The only advantage I have right now is time. Lucius and Dexter most likely haven’t received my texts yet, meaning Garrett doesn’t know.
But why make things easier on them?
I immediately scratch the obvious choices—I-10 west, or I-17 north, or US93 to the northwest. I have no desire to head to Los Angeles, Las Vegas, Flagstaff, or south into Mexico. On the last point, for starters, my Spanish muy sucks ballsackos.
As I drink my coffee, I start looking at other options and settle, for now, on northeast. I’ll cut up to I-40 and arrive in Albuquerque just around dark. That’s about a seven-hour drive.
From there?
Well, I’ll be able to make a few phone calls to decide my next step. But Albuquerque is large enough I should be able to hide out overnight. As far as I know, there aren’t any vampire nests there. I’m sure the wolves likely have people they know there, but I don’t know any personally.
With a game plan now, I take one last bathroom break, buy a couple of gallons of antifreeze, just in case, and a couple of gallons of drinking water, some snacks, and head out.
Despite my nerves, the drive goes without a hitch. I quickly find a hotel room in a busy section of town far enough from the interstate that I feel comfortable stopping for the night.
And I have to stop for the night. I’m exhausted. I can’t keep my eyes open.
I don’t even bother turning on my phone, either. I know it’ll be full of texts from Dexter, Lucius, Garrett, and others. I want to text Garrett and Amber, but if Dexter hasn’t already told them what’s going on, I damn sure don’t want to admit it yet. I also don’t want there to be any way to ping the phone and locate me.
Fortunately for me, I’m smarter than the average bear, and I save my contacts in Google Contacts so I can retrieve them.
Which is where I refer to, via my laptop, to find a few numbers I need. I sync one of the cheap burners to my contacts and, ten minutes later, I know what my plan will be. But I’ll need to get up before dawn to make some late phone calls. If I reach out too soon, someone might tip off Lucius and Dexter, and give them time to mobilize people to look for me.
Thus, I take a shower, set every alarm I can, and, after bracing the door with a chair, I reluctantly fall asleep.
Unfortunately, my dreams are filled with a mix of nightmares about losing Dexter to my phantom dog, and it attacking Lucius and the others, and Garrett and Amber, and—
I sit bolt upright as the first of my alarms goes off.
Fuckballs.
It’s 3:27 a.m., and time for me to get ready.
I use the room’s crappy single-serve coffeemaker to brew me a cup while I grab a wake-up shower. Then, after I’m safely in my 4Runner, I make the first of my calls.
The first two people had already heard from Lucius. So I kindly thank them and hang up without asking for help. They were longshots, but my third should be a safer option.
I power down that burner and set it aside. I’m certain Lucius or Garrett will try to track me through the burner number and find out I’m here.
That’s okay, because by the time they do, I’ll be far from here.
I break out the next burner phone, which I charged while I slept, turn it on, and import my contacts into it. All I need to do is stay one step ahead of everyone, reach my destination, and stay there until Dexter and Lucius and Garrett all forget about me and go on with their lives.
The third phone call I make…
As I predicted, Neimus has not heard from Lucius. He hasn’t heard from Dexter, either.
Or Garrett.
And, thankfully, Neimus has a lead for me and promises to not tell anyone I called, should they call looking for me. He agrees to me using a different alias for reference for the next call I need to make, so Lucius and Dexter won’t track me, should their inquiries lead that far.
One more phone call, and I now have a destination and a lead on a job.
Doesn’t matter I’ve ripped my own heart out in the process, or that I was finally starting to feel like I was home and had an extended family, of sorts.
The important thing is that I can protect them all by getting the fuck away from them as quickly as possible.
I start crying as I start driving. Because every mile I drive is another mile further from Dexter.
And I sense it’s another mile further from the only man I’ll ever really love.
A man whose heart I’m likely breaking right now, and I hate myself for that.
* * *
Dexter
Eilidh won’t respond to my texts or answer my phone calls. Her voice mail quickly fills up.
It’s likely she’s turned off the phone and won’t turn it on again.
She doesn’t even have a bank account. Who doesn’t have a bank account? Credit cards? How does she survive? She must have a heck of a stash of cash and pre-paid cards to make it this long.
I will spank her for that when I find her. For making it harder for me to find her.
Three days after Eilidh’s disappearance from Tucson, and I’m not sure if Lucius or Garrett wish me dead more, because I’m constantly asking for updates. I can’t think straight not knowing if she’s safe or not.
There’s been no sign of her at all in the past forty-eight hours, other than two of Lucius’ contacts reporting back to him that she called them, but as soon as they admitted Lucius had called looking for her, she thanked them and hung up.
From a burner phone. Which she’s already stopped using, because it can’t be tracked any further than Albuquerque. Garrett sent men out looking for her, but she had too much of a head start on them. I’ve got men looking for her. We all have people looking for her.
Even Jackson King’s mate and her hacker friends haven’t located so much as a hint of Eilidh’s whereabouts. The e-mail address Lucius and Garrett had for Eilidh hasn’t been logged into in over a week. It is likely a throwaway account. There were no contacts associated with it that Kylie could sort through.
My beautiful, brilliant girl is adept at hiding her trail, unfortunately.
Meanwhile, I spend my nights heading to Club Toxic, up to the office, to go over any information we’re able to glean. Lucius’ conference room is now my base of operations.
That’s where I’m sitting, my eyes closed and trying to think, when Lucius once again tries to be helpful.
“What if she decided to return to the UK? Perhaps she feels she would be safe there? Maybe she’s gone to Wales?”
I start to argue with him when something pings my memory, making my eyes pop open. “Shit!”
“What?”
I open my laptop and use Google Earth to do some searching. Once I’ve confirmed the spelling, I run a search…
And then I stupidly have one answer that I have no idea how it fits in with the rest of the puzzle. “That’s it!”
Lucius arches an eyebrow at me from across the conference table. “What? Do you know where she is?”
“No! I know what the symbols on her ring are!” I spin my laptop around and show him. “They’re the same symbols etched in rocks on an old ring of standing stones in Wales!”
Lucius’ brow furrows, a deep scowl making him frown. “Well, that is interesting, but I don’t understand how it’s relative to locating her.”
“You and I are in agreement that damned thing is a gwyllgi, right?”
“I mean, I don’t know what it is, but that certainly fits.”
“Gwyllgi originated in Wales. Maybe if I can figure out where the hell that thing is coming from, it might be another way of locating her. And maybe it has something to do with her ring.” I grab my phone and call John and Mark to get the jet ready to leave for Wales ASAP.
When I end that call, I start gathering my things, but Lucius stops me. “Are you sure you want to do this? Shouldn’t you stay close by for when we locate her?”
“Look, this is important. If I find her, it’s not like I can compel her and drag her back. She’ll just run away again if
this thing shows up. Stopping whatever this is, finding out if it can even hurt us, is every bit as important as finding her. Right?”
He doesn’t look convinced, but he finally nods. “I suppose you are correct.”
As I return to my hotel to join up with my men, I pray I’m right about this. Because I have to find her.
But even more importantly, once I do find her, I have to be able to hold on to her.
And that won’t be possible until we figure out this part once and for all.
28
Dexter
I have plenty of time shut up in the private cabin of my jet to contemplate my situation. Returning to the UK is always a melancholy experience for me, even in the best of times and under the best of circumstances. It’s yet another reason I decided to relocate to the US when I knew it was time to move on.
The irony isn’t lost on me that, less than two weeks ago, I thought my last time traveling to the UK would be to say good-bye to my old love and greet the sunrise.
But then, I thought I’d be able to bring Eilidh here to see where she grew up in Cardiff and show her around Scotland.
Now?
I come seeking answers, and I will have them.
I have people on the ground in the UK scouring libraries and museums and universities for more information on the standing stone ring in question. There are two similar ones with similar markings, but of the three, that one in particular is the only one with those exact markings, matching the ones on Eilidh’s ring.
It’s not a language, per se, and no one’s ever figured out what the symbols mean. Like so many symbols from this period in history, the meanings were lost to the mists of time.
The other two stone rings, the markings are similar, but slightly different. No one knows what they mean. No one knows for sure what the stone rings were used for, although working hypotheses are, as always, some sort of ritual space.
Still say it cannot be a coincidence that the only time I’ve found those markings replicated is on this stone ring, and she is from Wales.
Twenty-four hours after my departure from Tucson, I’m standing with John and Mark at the stone ring in Wales, not far from Cardiff, and staring at markings that exactly match the ones on Eilidh’s ring. There’s something about this place, but I don’t know what.
And we’re still no closer to locating Eilidh, puzzling out what is pursuing her, or how it figures in with this stone ring.
Mark kneels next to one of the stones and traces the symbols with his fingers. “Perhaps the ring is part of a ritual they conducted here?”
“What was the moon phase the night she saw the thing?” John asks as he thumbs through information on his tablet. “Standing stones were frequently aligned to solstices and equinoxes. Maybe it’s a moon phase trigger?”
I dig out my phone and look. “Night of the full moon.”
“Do we know any of the other times she saw the thing?” Mark asks.
“No.” I walk through the center of the ring of stones and…
I drop to my hands and knees and lower my face, until it’s nearly at the ground.
It’s as if I can smell the faintest traces of…something.
Not her, but…something odd.
Something maybe not of this world.
Gooseflesh rises all over my body, and that’s damn sure something that hasn’t happened for well over a thousand years.
“What is it, sir?” Mark asks.
“I don’t know. Maybe nothing.” I stand and look up at the waning moon.
Give me your secrets, damn you.
Before dawn the next morning, I am safely in my estate in Scotland and falling asleep in a bed I never dreamed I’d ever sleep in alone again.
Not once I met Eilidh.
Still no sign of her, and I’m trying to convince myself it’s just because she’s that good at staying hidden, and not because something’s happened to her.
No record of either of her passports being used to leave the country. No record of her on any flights, or trains, or buses.
Nothing.
Like she’s disappeared from the face of the planet. She could give classes on it. Even the former CIA spook who’s joined Garrett’s pack gave her disappearing skills high praise.
Maybe, once I find her, one of her “things” she can do is give new vampires lessons on how to stay off the grid.
I, on the other hand, am going to give her one hell of a fucking spanking when I finally get my hands on her again.
Then I’m going to spend an entire night with her tied up and squirming under my hands and making her beg to come.
Then another spanking.
I have to believe she’s safe. If I allow my mind to drift to dark places, it’s too easy to sink into depression, and I don’t want to do that.
I need her to be safe.
I need her.
Kylie and her hacker friends have started sorting through traffic camera images in and around Albuquerque, trying to use image recognition software to see if they can find her license plate in any images to get a hint of what direction she headed.
But it’s a big fucking country.
We have flags out for the two phone numbers we know about—the one she used to use and the one she made the two phone calls on. No doubt she had more than one burner with her and switched phones as soon as she knew Lucius had already spoken to both of the people she called.
Clever, clever girl.
Emmett Green, Garrett’s father, offered to call in favors and have law enforcement issue a BOLO for her and her vehicle, but that’s only as a last resort. I’d rather Eilidh not end up on any official radar like that, if possible. It could come back to impact us in unexpected ways later.
Besides, she’s broken no laws. Technically. I mean, using the fake ID and having her license plate issued to it is against the law, yes, but it’s a victimless crime.
Or maybe she didn’t really love you, asshole.
There is that possibility. That I moved too fast, she got scared, and this was the perfect timing for her to leave.
I’ve paid Garrett to hold Eilidh’s apartment, as-is, so Amber can keep trying to see her.
So far, no luck.
She insists that Eilidh’s father is alive, however. And that Eilidh and I will end up together.
That she is alive and safe.
There are no secrets to be learned at the stone ring tonight. I’ll keep people here, watching the ring and monitoring it with remote cameras. Maybe if they pick up something, it’ll provide a clue.
The only thing I can do now is wait until we have some hint of where Eilidh is, unless we uncover more evidence about the stone ring.
Unfortunately, waiting is a skill I’ve had a lot of practice at.
Doesn’t make it any easier. Especially when my soulmate is somewhere, out there, and I have no idea where, or if she’s in danger.
* * *
One night six weeks later, I’m sitting on the ground in Scotland, outside the third of the three standing stone rings, when my cell rings.
My hope soars when I see it’s a Tucson number that’s not Lucius’ or Garrett’s numbers.
“Dexter Van Sussex.”
“Hiya. It’s Kylie.”
Kylie King, hacker extraordinaire. If my heart were beating, it’d be racing right now. “Please tell me you have something.”
“I have something.”
I jump to my feet. “Really?”
“Really. I just verified thirty minutes ago that she boarded a ferry in Bellingham, Washington, and took it to Whittier, Alaska. I confirmed her license plate and everything. She used an assumed name, but she transported her Toyota, so she still has it.”
“What? Seriously? She’s just boarded a ferry to Alaska?”
“Oh, sorry, no. I mean, I just confirmed it. She actually took the ferry weeks ago. My bad. Sorry, dude.”
My hope sinks. “Weeks ago?”
“Yes. Frangelico is working his sources who know th
e vampires in that region, trying to learn who the wholesale blood suppliers are, and running down leads that way. If we can track who receives shipments of blood on the regular, that’ll give him a starting point to ask for assistance locating her. Garrett’s talking to shifters up there, too. Trying to locate the shifter bars, fight clubs—anywhere she might feel right at home and able to do her thing.”
I groan. “Alaska is a big place. It’s enormous and remote.”
“Don’t worry—we’re working on it. I would suggest making your way to Anchorage. They have larger hotels there. Chances are, she’s still on the Kenai Peninsula. Or possibly up in Mat-Su, just to the north. Once we find out where she went from Whittier, or if she’s still in Whittier, we’ll be able to let you know where to go. It’s doubtful she’s still in Whittier, though.”
“Why can’t I just fly into Whittier, then?”
“For starters, it’s tiny. I don’t know what you’re flying on, but your pilot needs to check if their airfield can even handle your plane. Secondly, Whittier is tiny. Did I mention it’s tiny? You kind of need a specialized type of quarters to—”
“Okay, I get it,” I wearily say. “It’s a small town lacking in vampire-friendly accommodations. I’ll fly into Anchorage.”
“Excellent. We’ll keep working on this and hope to have more news for you within twenty-four hours. I’ll call you back from this number as soon as we know anything.”
“Thanks.”
I hang up and blur the mile back to where my pilot is waiting with a helicopter. I make a couple of quick phone calls to start preparations to move me, and then sit back as we take off to return to my estate. I’ve scoured every inch of the three standing rings multiple times over these past six weeks and have yet to find any answers.
The general consensus is perhaps the stone ring activates the apparition somehow, maybe in conjunction with the ring Eilidh has.
The last full moon, John, Mark, and I were standing at the stone ring outside of Cardiff and waiting for something, anything to happen.
Nothing happened, except I think I got another whiff of that scent, sort of like Eilidh, but kind of not. Then it was gone again so quickly, it might have simply been my wishful thinking.
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