“He’s back here. On the other side of this barricade.”
“B-behind a barricade? What happened?”
“He…ah…went down. We helped him out of the crowd of people stepping over him.”
“Is he okay?”
“He’ll be fine.”
Kenny blew out a sigh of relief. “He better be. It was his idea to come here, but this place is totally creeping me out.”
Someone jostled her into Kenny. “He’s a cute little morsel, now, isn’t he? You saving him for later?”
The crowd kept moving and whoever had made the comment disappeared. She’d never been claustrophobic before, but this was ridiculous.
“See what I’m talking about?” he said.
Yeah, she did. “Come with me. We need to get you out of here.”
Careful not to slog any of his energy, she grabbed his hand, and they slowly threaded their way upstream, fighting for every step.
Would Caleb have returned by now from taking Joe down to the boats? One of them would have to escort Kenny to the beach, too. She didn’t like the idea of having to do it herself, but the cavern was too tricky for a human kid to negotiate alone, especially without a flashlight. And who’s to say he’d even obey them, although she supposed they could mind-plant the suggestion. Could she help him down to the beach and make it back before Jackson gave the order to go in?
Just as she was about to rap on the plywood, she heard shouts behind her. Someone yelled, “Raid!” and people started running.
She turned her head just as gunfire sounded.
What the hell—? They still had a few more minutes till go-time.
The crowd surged backward, jamming her shoulder into the wall. She stumbled, almost fell. Immediately, the corner of the plywood gaped open and she shoved Kenny through. But before she could reach for Alfonso’s outstretched hand, the crowd surged again and she was swept past him.
CHAPTER EIGHTEEN
IT WAS COMPLETE PANDEMONIUM when Alfonso burst into the maze, hell-bent on finding Lily. People, both human and vampire, ran in every direction. Strobe lights turned everyone into macabre automatons, their movements jerky, like old reel-to-reel footage. A terrified face here. Hungry, soulless eyes there. Although music blared even louder on this side of the panel, it couldn’t drown out the screaming.
Bloody hell. Where was she?
The crowd had carried her to the right, so he bolted in that direction, only vaguely aware of the people he elbowed past. Once outside, everyone scattered into a few groups. He spotted Jackson near the skeletal remains of a wooden roller coaster away from the main crowds, ushering a group of humans through the tall, windswept grass. Bright, silvery light from the moon hampered his efforts to shadow-move as quickly as he would’ve liked, but when he arrived at Jackson’s side, the eyes of the humans with him registered their shock.
“Have you seen Lily?”
“No, I thought she was with you.”
“She was, but we got separated.”
Why, for fuck’s sake, had he wasted valuable seconds ordering Kenny down the tunnel when he should’ve gone after her instantly? If only he could’ve stretched out his hand a little farther, he’d have latched onto her. Could she have gone the other way instead?
“Dude, you need to chill. Lily’s around here somewhere. She’s pretty capable of handling things on her own, if you haven’t already noticed.”
“Yes, but—”
“Yeah, but nothing. Seriously, my man, she’s around here somewhere.”
Maybe the rising panic in his gut was clouding his judgment. He’d find her; she couldn’t have gone far. He tried to settle himself enough to sense her presence, but all the commotion around him made it difficult. He had to remind himself that Darkbloods no longer needed a Tracker since the Night of Wilding party was over. Things would settle down soon after tonight.
With a sense that she was still inside, he pushed his way back through the confusing circular route with all its dead ends and wrong ways. The crowd had thinned out considerably. Most of the people were outside by now. When he got to the hole in the barricade that led to the tunnel, he was disheartened yet not entirely shocked to find she wasn’t there. Lily wasn’t the type of person to wait around while stuff was falling apart around her.
“Do you know how to get out of here?” asked a young human male, breathing hard. “I’m so friggin’ lost—I’ve gone past this spot three times already.”
One whiff told Alfonso this guy wouldn’t last much longer. He wasn’t a sweetblood, but he had a pretty unusual blood type, and getting out amongst all those adrenaline-hyped and energy-depleted vampires could cost him his life. Frankly, he was shocked no one had taken him yet.
“Get your ass in there,” Alfonso told him, pointing to the jagged hole made by the missing piece of plywood. He gave him quick instructions to follow the tunnel to the top of the cliff, where someone should be there to direct him. When he stooped to shove the guy in, he felt a tickling sensation inside his veins and smelled the faint scent of lavender.
Lily.
She was inside the tunnel.
He exhaled a heavy sigh of relief. She was safe.
“There you are, love,” she said from the other side of the panel. She gripped his hand, ready to haul him in. “Wondered where you’d gotten off to. Found another one, I see.”
Although the compressed brick of worry had been lifted from his shoulders, a nervous energy still nagged at his insides, keeping him agitated and restless. He couldn’t shake the feeling that something was still terribly wrong.
“Listen. Can you take him down to the beach? I’m going to go back inside. See if there are more stragglers that need to be rounded up.”
Without waiting for her reply, Alfonso turned and sprinted deeper into the Cave of Mystery.
The maze opened up onto a large, cavernlike room, built at the turn of the century to look like a cave with a soaring three-story ceiling and curved rock walls. One wall actually was part of the basalt cliff face, and the rest were made to just look like rock. Fake stalactites hung from the ceiling, along with hundreds of twinkle lights.
A crackling noise hissed from the speakers, and beams of green neon flashed out a preprogrammed light show into nothingness. The unmanned turntables in the middle of the large stage skipped over and over. Behind it were several brightly lit glassed-in rooms with the curtains pulled almost all the way closed.
Viewing rooms.
Just like the sex club where Kip had initially been held. Had they planned to do the same thing here?
From back here, Alfonso saw that a microphone stand had been kicked over and lay next to an assortment of handcuffs, silk scarves and—
Shit. A length of chain hung from the ceiling overhead.
Kinky sex paraphernalia. Maybe couples were doing it out here on the stage instead.
A few individuals staggered along the perimeter toward the mouth of the maze, but since they were vampire, not human, he didn’t feel the urgent need to help them. They’d made a choice to come here; let the Agency authorities round them up when they got outside.
“You guys really know how to kill a party,” one of them said.
“Just when it was getting good, too,” said another, sidestepping an overturned chair. “The show was about ready to start, and everyone was counting down to midnight. Goddamn Agency assholes.”
“Yeah, so bite me.”
Once the two losers had left, the room was eerily quiet except for the turntable noise. The earlier unease he’d felt was even stronger, standing the hair on the back of his neck on end. He palmed his kunai and walked forward.
A flash of movement inside one of the viewing rooms drew his attention. Through a half-opened curtain, he saw what appeared to be an individual dressed in a long flowing cape leaning over a gurney-size table.
Holy shit. Someone was feeding from a host.
He bolted forward, his eye on the figure in the viewing room, so he didn’t see the bod
y on the floor until it was too late. He tried to jump, but the toe of his boot caught on the guy’s foot. He stumbled, landing all his weight at an awkward angle on his bad leg.
Although he caught himself from falling, a sharp pain stabbed outward and he imagined all those internal stitches and pins popping loose. Gritting his teeth, he kept running, and when the neon flashed off, swathing the room in momentary darkness, he closed the distance to the stage and jumped up in one liquid movement of shadow.
A seamless piece of glass ran the length of the viewing rooms. Where was the goddamn door? He quickly scanned both directions, but couldn’t find one. It had to be offstage somewhere.
Sheathing both kunai, he withdrew one of his guns, stepped back and took aim at the glass. But before his finger squeezed the trigger, the individual lifted his head from his victim, his teeth dripping with blood.
And Alfonso’s heart stopped cold.
Although it had been more than a century before and the catacombs had only been illuminated by torchlight, it was a face he would never forget.
It was Christoph Rejavik, of the Order of the Red Sword.
His blood assassin.
Alfonso blinked once, twice. It wasn’t possible. Rejavik was supposed to be in Europe. And yet, there he was, standing just a few feet away with the blood of an innocent on his mouth.
Lily!
Panic rose in his gut before he remembered she was down at the boats. Safe and away from the assassin.
It’s just him and me. Right here. Right now.
A familiar wave of detachment washed over him as his body went on autopilot.
With the assassin dead and the shevala destroyed, Alfonso would no longer be easily tracked. He’d become just another Guardian, always on alert for Darkbloods and other reverts, but not the sole prey of a relentless, trained killer with one goal and one goal only. With his death, Alfonso could start living.
And Lily would be safe.
With the back of his hand, Rejavik rubbed his lips and stepped toward the glass. The tiny metal box, a seemingly insignificant piece of odd jewelry that had imprisoned Alfonso’s scent for centuries, dangled from the man’s fingernail.
Rage burned in Alfonso’s veins as Rejavik peered through the glass at him. Ever since he’d so boldly betrayed the Alliance, leading to Pavlos’s death, he’d known this day would eventually come. He just hadn’t expected it at this time or on this tiny island in the middle of the San Juans.
Rejavik stared through the glass, his eyes unfocused and pitch-black from the thirst. It was as if he couldn’t see where Alfonso stood.
How could that be? Had his assassin not tracked him here? Why was he not drawing a weapon?
Alfonso cranked his head around, looking for signs of a trap, but the place was empty.
It occurred to him suddenly that Rejavik truly couldn’t see him. With the lights blazing inside the viewing room, Alfonso was invisible in the darkness of the cavern.
Narrowing his eyes, he quickly took in Rejavik’s attire. The fucker was wearing a goddamn costume, because he was partying with the rest of the lowlifes at the Night of Wilding. The high-collared cape, the slicked-back hair, the frilly white cuffs. Except for the blood-tinged lips, which were the real thing, the whole getup was an over-the-top caricature of the vampire mythos.
Alfonso couldn’t believe his luck—his blood assassin was drunk on Sweet. That could be the only explanation for why he hadn’t scented Alfonso. He’d probably gotten caught up in the madness, as many did on the Night of Wilding.
And it was about to be his downfall.
A thrill surged through Alfonso’s body as he took aim, and he knew he’d remember this moment for the rest of his life. He would soon be rejoicing at the sight of the man’s body withering, then charcoaling before his eyes.
Rejavik lifted his head slightly and sniffed the air. A cold smile creased his face.
He might not see Alfonso, but he’d finally scented him.
With a hard set to his jaw, Alfonso squeezed off all the rounds in quick succession, the sound reverberating like a machine gun in the huge hall.
The damn glass spiderwebbed but didn’t break.
Startled, the assassin took a step backward, jostling the gurney behind him. His victim’s arm swung down and drops of blood hit the white linoleum floor in rapid succession, puddling obscenely next to a discarded fireman’s hat.
As Alfonso jammed in another clip, the assassin ripped off his cape, flinging the vestiges of the party behind him. He spread his hands over the shattered glass panel and looked for a way to go through.
Then someone hit a switch somewhere, illuminating the whole place with blinding incandescent light.
And Alfonso met Rejavik’s now-seeing gaze.
They stared at each other for a moment until the assassin nodded and touched his lips in a fang-slang greeting. “So thrilling to see you again,” he mouthed.
Rejavik cocked the heel of his hand back, preparing to punch the glass. Alfonso widened his stance and took aim again. As soon as the guy broke through, this silver bullet would give his brain a hi-how-are-you.
With his hand in midair, Rejavik’s attention was drawn to something behind Alfonso, and he stopped. Hearing heavy footsteps, Alfonso glanced back to see several Guardians entering the cavern. The stage shook as Jackson rushed to his side, weapons drawn.
“Who the fuck is that? Oh Jesus, he’s got the sweetblood we couldn’t find.”
“Just tell me Lily’s back at the boat,” Alfonso said through clenched teeth, not dropping his gaze from Rejavik’s. She needed to be off this tiny island. As far away from this monster as possible.
Rejavik leaned close to the glass and waggled his fingers, making the shevala swing wildly.
Yes, you asshole. You think you hold my life in your hands. But not any longer. This ends. Tonight.
Something stirred behind Alfonso and he heard several more Guardians approaching, but before his mind registered that it was Lily’s presence he felt, the sound of her voice filled the space.
“Alfonso, love, there you are.”
Panic vise-gripped his insides and a sour lump of bile rose in his throat. And when the assassin broke off his stare to look at Lily, Alfonso’s blood ran cold.
“Get the fuck out of here.”
With a slight smile, Rejavik surveyed the glass. It looked as though he was going to try busting through again.
“Hold on,” Jackson said, clearly not getting that this was much more than a sweetblood draining. “Access to the room must be on the second floor. I’ll approach him from behind.”
Rejavik’s gaze followed Jackson, then he took in the half dozen or so other Agents and slowly backed away. He was outnumbered, and he knew it. He reached inside his jacket, pulled out a stiff piece of paper, and set it on the body.
Then he disappeared out a back door Alfonso hadn’t noticed until now.
“Stay here,” Alfonso ordered Lily.
He tried to ignore the pain shooting through his knee as he scrambled off the stage, looking for a stairway, a ladder, a door—but all he saw was a bunch of scaffolding, trash and fake rock paneling. He couldn’t waste the time running through the maze again. The guy would be long gone by then.
He hauled ass down a hallway that seemed to be heading in the wrong direction but was his only option. His boots pounded out a lopsided beat along the hallway. As he approached the end, a mechanical rumble sounded from outside, getting progressively louder and higher pitched.
A helicopter? But it was too windy to fly the birds, wasn’t it?
He threw himself at the heavy door, cranking the handle as his shoulder made contact, but the door didn’t budge. Had to be blocked from the outside. However, nothing was going to keep him from Rejavik.
He took a few steps backward. Ignoring the tearing pain in his knee, he ran at the door full force, kicking it off its hinges and crashing onto the wet pavement. He sprang to his feet and saw a helicopter in the open area just be
yond the derelict Ferris wheel. Rejavik was climbing aboard.
“No!”
Running forward, his arms and legs pumping, he ducked under a weed-covered portion of an old roller coaster track, hardly aware of the rotor downblast. The bird lifted off as he raced past the Ferris wheel. He stretched his arms up and jumped, vaguely feeling a snap in his knee, but the landing skids were just beyond his reach. A roar shot from his chest; wind and rain lashed his upturned face. His enemy had slipped through his fingers.
So close.
He was so fucking close.
And yet somehow, he’d allowed the asshole to escape.
The helicopter skimmed the tops of the trees, the repetitive sound of the rotors mocking him. No matter what he did or how hard he fought, the blood assassin would always best him. Always.
He pulled off his knit cap, wiped his face with his forearm and winced at the pain in his knee.
How could he have been such a fool?
The house. Rekindling things with Lily. Her blood.
Yeah, he was brilliant. Real fucking brilliant.
Through his incredible selfishness, acting on his shortsighted desire to live a normal life, he’d put everyone around him at risk. He never should have agreed to help out the Agency, never should have dreamed he could be just one of the guys.
Now that Rejavik knew he was here in the Northwest, there was only one thing to do.
Grasping his thigh, he turned to see Jackson barge through the broken door and beeline toward him.
Perfect. Just the guy he needed to talk to.
Jackson opened his mouth, but before he could speak, Alfonso cut him off.
“Jacks, man, I need you to do me a big favor. It’s of the utmost importance.”
“Sure, but—”
“First, I need you to take Lily somewhere safe, somewhere I’ve not been to. Don’t take her to Region or to the Seattle field office. Maybe out to the resort where Mackenzie is staying, since I don’t know the location. It needs to have a top-of-the-line cloaking system and you need to cover your tracks.”
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