Lily followed the scent through the kitchen, where the intruder had fingered all the pictures and artwork on her refrigerator. He’d circled around into the living room and paused next to her upright piano.
Just knowing some stranger had recently walked these rooms made her skin crawl. He had been standing in this very spot not long ago, looking at her things, breathing this air. Had he touched the piano keys? she wondered when she noticed the cover had been lifted. She always kept it closed. Had he moved through quickly or had he taken his time? Never had she felt so violated. No matter how much cleaning and scrubbing she’d do later, she knew she’d never be able to shake the horrible feeling that a stranger had gone through her things. One thing was certain: she’d not spend another day here.
At that moment, the door burst open with a bang. Instantly, her Glock was in her hand and she was taking aim. The first thing she saw was a colorful snake tattoo on a muscular arm and a hand holding half a sandwich.
She lowered the weapon. Jackson.
“Sorry, Lil, it’s just me.”
She holstered the gun. “Jesus. Don’t you ever knock?”
Undeterred, he stuffed the sandwich into his mouth and disappeared into her kitchen. “We can’t find any evidence that the guy broke into any of the other units,” he called out. “I think yours is it, Lil.” She heard the refrigerator door open.
“The DB was all over this place.” She looked over the dozen or so family photographs on the piano. The black and white prints were in various frames that she and her mother had found and painted black. “He touched all my pictures.”
“I’m sorry, Lily. Looks like they really want you. Good thing you weren’t here at the time.”
Alfonso emerged from her bedroom, worry plastered all over his face. “Your closet doors were open. I think he may have taken an item of clothing.”
“DBs tracking the Tracker.” Jackson barked out a laugh, but stopped when both Lily and Alfonso glared at him. “Sorry. I find it funny, that’s all. You know, kind of ironic.”
“Yeah, and we’re both laughing.” She turned to Alfonso and knew she was doing a lousy job keeping the worry from showing on her face. “The asshole took a picture, too. One of me and Zoe.”
CHAPTER SIXTEEN
ALFONSO SAT AT THE FRONT of the boat while it plowed through the surf toward the tiny island. He slipped a hand inside his jacket and checked for the umpteenth time that his kunai were safely stowed away along with the rest of his weapons.
Yep, all there and accounted for.
He retucked a piece of hair under his knit cap and shielded his face from the spray of seawater, then glanced over his shoulder.
Lily was talking animatedly to one of the other female Guardians seated at the back of the boat near the motor. Although he couldn’t hear what she was saying, he loved watching her gestures, her facial expressions. The passion she had for her work as a Guardian and for the Council’s work instilled in him a tremendous sense of pride. He was proud of who she was, what she stood for and what she was capable of accomplishing.
Last night, Lily had tracked the DB scent from the hotel they’d found earlier straight to a boat launch at a seldom-used state park north of the city. No doubt the DBs were heading to the island location, getting ready for the Night of Wilding party. With dawn only a few hours away, they hadn’t had time to secure a boat to investigate further. But when BloodySunday had received an all-important email from an HG friend, they’d determined this was indeed the location of the biggest Night of Wilding party. Tonight they’d had just enough time to assemble the boats before they had to leave.
If things went wrong tonight, Lily could get caught up in the middle of it all. Technically, she still was a target. Hell, if he’d had things his way, she’d have listened to him and stayed back at the field office.
But of course, she hadn’t.
Although he’d tried.
And here she was.
Funny thing was, he loved it.
An endless series of waves, stirred up from the incoming storm, pounded onto the shore, muting any sound of the pontoon boats. The engines cut and the three skiffs glided onto a muddy, half-moon-shaped beach.
Alfonso was the first one off, followed closely by Jackson, who looked like he might vomit. His complexion was pale and a bead of sweat trickled down from his temples.
“Seasick, my man?” Alfonso relieved him of his heavy duffel bag.
“Guess you could call it that. I hate water. As in, really hate water.”
“It’s a bloody shame the biggest Night of Wilding party had to be on an island the year Dom’s gone and you’re in charge of the field operation.”
“No kidding. I’d rather be back patrolling one of the other parties. Let someone else handle this one.”
“Knowing Dom, he’d have made you come out anyway.”
“Yeah, suppose you’re right.”
Alfonso reached around and caught the heavy weapons duffel Lily tossed to him, then he helped her off the boat, careful to set her down on the beach side of a wave.
After everyone else came ashore and the boats were secured, the Guardians scrambled over snags of giant drift logs and assembled near the rocky cliff face.
Moonlight peeked out from the heavy cloud cover long enough to illuminate a weathered sign arching over a set of rickety wooden stairs.
Welcome to Beacon Amusement Park est. 1901
How fitting that Darkbloods would use an old theme park as the site of their macabre celebration. It was an atmosphere straight out of Hollow Grave.
“Vel-comb,” said Gibby, holding out a hand to Tambra as she climbed over a piece of smooth driftwood. “Come inside so vee can suck your blood. Vee promise that you’ll only feel a leetle prick. That is all. Then, buh-bye.”
Lily rolled her eyes as she unzipped a bag and strapped on her weapons. “Yeah, a very little prick.”
“Good one, Lil,” Jackson said.
“Touché, princess,” Gibby said. “You’re just upset because you haven’t seen Mr. Skippy in a while.”
“I’ve never seen Mr. Skippy, and, believe me, I don’t care to.”
“Would you chill for a change, Gibby?” Jackson said.
“Me? She started it.”
A rumble sounded in Alfonso’s chest. He stepped forward, his lip curled back, exposing the tips of his fangs.
Lily put her hand on his bicep. “It’s okay, love,” she said low enough that only he could hear. “He shoots his mouth like that all the time. I’m used to it. We all are. I just flip him shit right back and try to ignore him.”
Some of the don’t-fuck-with-my-woman tension slipped away, although he continued to stare at Gibby through narrowed eyes. Now the guy was joking around with one of the other females, who seemed to find what he said funny. Alfonso listened to the easy banter the others shared. They functioned as a family. They all were individuals who respected and cared for each other while working toward a common goal.
It had been so long since he’d felt like part of a family. Although he fought for the same causes as they did, believed in the same things, he had always done so alone. Was he even capable of working with a group? He wasn’t sure if it was in his nature or not. Lily seemed to thrive on the camaraderie. But him? He just didn’t know.
“All I can say,” Lily added, “is there’d better not be any clowns up there. If so, Ima be a little freaked out.”
“If I can manage the water,” Jackson said, “you can deal with a clown or two.”
She eyed Gibby. “Guess you’re right. I already have.”
Jackson wiped his sleeve across his forehead and cleared his throat. “Okay, listen up. The old theme park is located on the top of this bluff, facing the shipping lanes. With the storm coming, we don’t have a lot of time. Their guest boats are already starting to arrive on the old boardwalk on the other side of the island. Sadie, Jonah and Gibby—you’ll approach the park from the south. You’ll need to wade through the sea arch loca
ted on the other side of those headlands.”
“Sadie, me and you, girl,” Gibby said, winking. “If you get scared, just hold on to me. Okay?”
“In your dreams.” She adjusted her ball cap down low over her forehead, probably to keep from making eye contact with him and giving him the wrong impression.
“Guess I shoulda put my waders on,” Jonah said facetiously.
“With the tide going out, the water will be shallow,” Jackson said. He snapped shut one knife holster, then slid a knife into his ankle holster. “But don’t come back that way. The tide will be turning in just over an hour, right, Cordell? If it’s in by the time you come back and you get caught on the headlands, you’ll be screwed. It’s way too dangerous. Especially if you’re bringing human victims out with you. The waves crashing through that arch pack quite a punch. You’ll need to get back to the beachhead via an alternate route.”
“You’re right,” Cordell said. “There are reports of people being swept out to sea at this very spot at high tide. Especially with gale-force winds and the turbulent surf conditions we have tonight.”
“Why don’t we helicopter them off the island?” Gibby asked. “Isn’t the chopper standing by on the mainland?”
“It is,” Jackson said. “But it’s grounded due to the winds. Believe me, I’d much rather fly them out. We’ll take them by boat first, before having our guy try to land the bird. He’s good, but I don’t know if he’s capable of miracles.
“Tambra, Draven,” he continued, “we’ll be taking the north entrance. Just around the corner, there should be another old wooden stairway that leads to the top. Lily, Alfonso and Caleb—you’re heading straight up the cliff. There should be a series of caves past that outcropping that will lead you into the middle of the park, right, Cordell?”
“Yep. Straight into the old Cave of Mystery attraction.”
“Watch yourselves in there, people. They’ve got a few live sweetbloods. So have your wits about you and don’t forget your desensitization training.”
“Any idea how many humans might be there?”
Alfonso cleared his throat. “From what I could tell on the game forum, quite a few wanted to come, but the invitations only went out to vampires who fit the moderators’ demographic, although I’m sure a few humans will slip through the cracks and be in attendance.”
“They’re probably hoping that will happen,” Jonah said.
Tambra snorted. “Yeah, no doubt.”
“So you got invited?” Gibby asked Alfonso.
“Nope. Guess I didn’t fit their profile.”
“Hold on.” Gibby looked up from strapping on an ammo belt, a confused look plastered on his face. “I’m coming in late here. How did you find this place if you didn’t get an invite? I heard you tracked someone to the boat launch, but how did you know this was the party? I thought the location was under lock and key.”
Alfonso pointed to Lily. “It was all her. She had the idea to reach out to a couple of gamers in the forums that we were pretty sure were vampires. My online persona got pretty chummy with a few of them who were loose enough with the information they shared about themselves. From that, we were able to find where they lived. Lily was prepared to track them to the party location when one of them emailed me asking if I was going.”
“Bada bing,” Gibby said, nodding his head appreciatively. “And here we are. Nice work, DeGraff.” He gave her a high five and finished buckling his belt.
“Do we need to review our plans once we’re inside?” Jackson asked.
“Nope.”
“I’m good.”
“So am I.”
As everyone dispersed, Jackson clapped Cordell on the back. “Thanks, man, for coming when Shannon’s been so sick. Is she doing any better?”
Cordell shrugged, rubbed the tops of this thighs with a pained look on his face. “We’ll see. Glad you could use me out in the field for a change. Nice to get out from behind all those keyboards and screens.”
Had the guy been hurt? Alfonso wondered. Out of habit, he flexed his own knee, but it felt just as strong as the other one now.
“He’s a changeling,” Lily whispered. “It healed his spinal injury, but he’s never quite gotten used to having the use of his legs again.”
A few minutes later, Alfonso, Lily and Caleb scaled the rocky cliff face and found the cave entrance. They shadow-moved easily through the pitch-black cavern and made it into the abandoned theme park well ahead of the others.
REJAVIK SNAPPED HIS FINGERS. “I want the hair pulled back on this one. It needs to be away from his neck. The clients need to see what they’re bidding on and this is all part of the package. And this one needs her makeup retouched. Didn’t you use waterproof mascara? You know they’re going to be crying, but we can’t have them drugged up. And that dress. Is that the best you can do? I wanted Grecian goddess, not trampy harem.”
The cocktail glass in Ventra’s hand broke, spilling ice water onto her strappy heels. One of her underlings handed her a napkin and quickly picked up the pieces.
She was selling a fantasy and the female’s harem attire was part of it, as were the Roman gladiator, the Catholic schoolgirl, the fireman and the stripper.
Rejavik had taken over as if this were his own pet project. The guy was a regular Tim Gunn…with fangs. If he said make it work, people, she was going to totally lose it.
Calm down. Get a grip.
She inhaled a cleansing breath through her nostrils and let the anger seep out slowly, and as she dried her hands, the napkin came away red. With detached interest, she licked the deep gash on her palm and watched the edges slowly knit back together.
If things went as planned, tonight would be a big success, and Rejavik would point out her efforts to the Alliance. She’d get the recognition she deserved, and she’d have opportunities dropping into her lap. And she’d be richer…oh, God, would she be richer. As she fingered the sapphires dangling from her earlobes, her thoughts briefly turned to the matching bracelet that she didn’t yet own. It would’ve been perfect with this outfit.
Next time. She’d be wearing it for the next blood rave she organized. All she had to do was put up with this bullshit for a few more hours, then it would all be over, and he would be gone.
Oh hell, a few hours wouldn’t kill her. She could put up with anything for a few hours. She’d done it before, and she’d do it again, if she had to. It wouldn’t be the first time she compromised herself in the short term to get what she wanted in the long run.
She eyed the mascara tracks on the petite brunette. With rosy cheeks, porcelain skin and Shirley Temple curls, the girl looked younger than her seventeen or eighteen years.
Ventra’s fangs, which had never fully retracted after the sweetbloods had arrived a few hours ago, stretched out from her gums until she had difficulty keeping her lips closed. It’d been way too long since she’d had any Sweet. It hadn’t seemed right to indulge herself when they were saving any they could find for tonight’s big party. Without having secured an Agency Tracker, they’d had to seek out these sweetbloods on their own. She’d been hoping they’d capture more, but she would have to make do with these. The precious liquid was worth far too much for her to waste on herself. At least not right now.
Rejavik, on the other hand, seemed to have no such qualms. He’d drained one of their hostages yesterday and looked to be about ready to do so again. On the opposite side of the staging room, he was leaning in close to one of the male captives, a little too interested in the whole process.
If he takes another one, I swear I’m going to rip his throat out.
She turned her attention back to the young woman, who was shivering uncontrollably in her thin muslin gown. Her scent was mouthwatering. Clearly, Ventra had been depriving herself for too long.
Personally, she didn’t find the Goth goddess look as unappealing as Rejavik did. Not at all. It was basically an advertisement.
It said the girl was scared.
And
everyone knew what that meant.
Ignoring the terror in the girl’s eyes, Ventra advanced a step closer, brushed a hand over the springy brown curls. If only she could take a sip…
Caught up in the heady bloodscent combined with a perfume that had probably come from a T-shirt store in the mall, Ventra hardly noticed as fresh tracks of black seeped from the girl’s eyes and quiet sobs shook her shoulders.
No, the thought was nice—very appealing actually, but she couldn’t chance it. Someone would pay handsomely to drain this little morsel.
Ventra gave her one last head-to-toe as one of her people clamped a thick gold cuff around the woman’s neck.
“Hold on, now. That’s way too tight,” Ventra said, running a finger under the collar.
Even as she cowered away from her touch, the girl snapped her gaze up in surprise, obviously thinking she’d found a sympathizer. Too bad it wasn’t her comfort that Ventra was concerned about.
“Look here. It needs to be loose enough for access to the jugular. We need to consider the customers. Many don’t feed off the hoof very often and they might only be comfortable this way. Old school? Maybe. But there’s nothing wrong with that. I’m not a fan of these rigid collars. What happened to just a simple chain? They accomplish the same thing.”
The girl sobbed and her knees buckled. Before she hit the ground, Ventra reached out, caught her easily by the elbow and set her back on her feet.
“Ask him,” her assistant said, nodding his head toward Rejavik.
Ventra ground her teeth together when she saw Rejavik affixing a collar around the neck of one of the male sweetbloods. Figured. If the guy weren’t so powerful, she’d have taken his ass down a few pegs by now.
The driving beat of techno music blared louder for a moment as the outer door opened, then closed. One of her most loyal assistants approached.
“Watch her, will you?” she commanded of the Darkblood attending the girl. “I don’t want any unnecessary bruising until after the sale is made. Do you understand?”
“Yes, ma’am.”
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