by Judith Post
Caleb threw back his head and laughed. "Not an ill thought-out plan."
"That's why I wanted to warn you."
Caleb stared. “You didn’t call me for permission to help, did you?”
“I don’t need your permission.”
“And you weren’t warning me about my generals, were you?”
“I can protect them as well as you can.”
"Oh, dear brother, you called to warn me that I’m in danger. You care." Caleb's voice dripped sarcasm.
"Get over it. I want to go Home."
“If I were thrown in the pit, you’d be free. You could return Home without me.”
“That’s not my plan.”
“You do care. You want to take me with you.” Caleb was silent a moment, then said, “The thing is, we are home, bro."
"Really? Slang? An angel that likes rap?"
Caleb's smile lit his blue eyes. "You've heard of heaven on earth? We've found it." His image dimmed and he retreated before Enoch could answer.
Enoch stalked into the apartment. Caleb, in his usual arrogance, wasn't as worried as he should be. More good vampires could be lost before he realized how serious the problem was. He could be lost if he didn’t control his temper. Enoch poured himself a cup of espresso and let the hot, strong liquid jolt his system. Warning Caleb wasn't enough. Enoch would have to do more. He reached for the phone and dialed Danny.
Chapter 8
"Can't talk now," Danny said. "Big meeting."
"What about lunch? I can pick you up at noon."
Danny hesitated. The police station was on the east fringe of the city in what the newspapers deemed an undesirable area. "What's the deal? Must be important."
"I want some feedback. I'm willing to resort to bribery to get it. Name the restaurant. The sky's the limit."
Shit. This must be serious. Still, Enoch always picked up the tab when they went out to eat, and the truth was, Danny was so busy lately, lunch was about the only time he had free. "Where do you want to go?" he asked.
"You name it."
"The seafood place on Main Street. Remember it?"
"I walk past it a lot. Always wanted to give it a try."
Danny knew that Enoch and Vornonika spent most nights, walking in the wee hours. The restaurant would be closed when they peeked in its windows. "Good." He couldn't keep the gloat out of his voice. The place was too pricey for his budget, but money was no object for Enoch. "See you at noon."
Danny had a few hours before Enoch got there, and a few days of work to cram into them. How did he always get behind? If people would just be peaceful, law abiding citizens for a couple of weeks…. But he didn't really expect that to happen, so he nodded to Derek, at the desk next to his. "Ready, kid?" They'd get to this meeting, put it behind them, and then get down to real business.
An hour and a half later, armed with new information on health benefits, a different system for keeping track of mileage on their cars, and more mundane essentials, they trudged back to their desks. Bureaucracy! What a beautiful thing! Danny hunched over his paperwork and meant to fly through as much of it as possible. By noon, though, he was waiting at the curb for Enoch, not one case filed.
"Why the big frown?" Enoch asked, pulling up in his sleek, green Jag.
Danny stared at it and shook his head. "I'm in trouble, aren't I? You're pulling out the big guns to impress me—the fancy car and a pricey restaurant. What do you need? A spleen? Maybe a liver?"
Enoch shook his head. "Always suspicious."
"Comes with the job…and knowing you."
"So let's start small." Enoch pulled into traffic. "Why the look of doom and gloom?"
"I lost an hour to a meeting this morning, and the rest of the time I spent at a house, listening to a hysterical wife who swore her husband was missing—just disappeared into thin air for three days—only to have him walk through the door with the new girlfriend he met in Vegas. Talk about ugly. Good thing I was there, though. The wife went straight for a butcher knife, and I think she'd have won. The husband was still pretty tipsy."
"How long had they been married?"
"Long enough to have two kids—both in middle school. Probably a mid-life crisis. The guy's between jobs. The wife's the one who makes the payroll. Now his sorry ass is going to be out on the street."
"Can't feel too sorry for him."
"Neither can I. What was he thinking?"
Enoch pulled into the restaurant's parking lot. "Your job is never boring."
"Look who's talking."
Once in the restaurant, they concentrated on their menus. The place was everything Danny had hoped it would be. Good food, fun atmosphere. When he finished an order of deep-fried scallops with fries on the side, Danny rubbed his stomach, satisfied.
"How was your grub?" he asked Enoch.
"Delicious." His friend, as usual, went high class with the halibut special.
Danny drained his beer glass. "So, what's the emergency?" His moment of indulgence was gone. Time for the real world and its problems again.
Enoch sipped the last of his white wine. "I need to buy a house. It needs to be a fortress with lots of privacy."
Danny didn't even try to look surprised. When it came to Enoch, he expected high drama. "Tell me about it." He already knew the basics, so he listened as Enoch filled in the rest. Vamps and humans were teaming up, just as Enoch suspected, and Bart and Claudia had come to Three Rivers to take a stand. "I don't want you to be too far from the city," Danny told him when he finished. "I want you close enough that I can keep in touch and help."
Enoch grew silent when the waiter appeared. He paid their bill, then tossed a twenty dollar tip on the table—his usual—and motioned for Danny to follow him outside. Once in the privacy of the Jag, Enoch stressed, "Vamps are part of this, too.
I don't want you involved."
"So you've told me. I hate to break it to you, but if you're going to kill people—and if you're talking about a fortress, that makes me think you're planning a war, so there'll be casualties—we mortals don't turn to dust. You're going to have a body count, and I need to explain that somehow. So we have to work together."
"Not a good idea. I'm even worried about Bart and his generals. I don't know what we're really up against."
Danny didn't back down. "The vamps are your problem. But people are my line of work, even if they're someone's pets."
"A vampire's pet."
"Then they should be kept on a leash. They can't run free in Three Rivers."
Enoch sighed. “I’m not going to win this argument, am I?”
“For an angel, your odds are slim. You lose more arguments than you win.” It had to be frustrating. Enoch did everything he could to protect people, and they did everything they could to make it difficult. Danny could relate. He was a cop. It came with the job.
Enoch didn’t even pretend to disagree. "Okay then, where do I find this house? I need solitude, and you need me to be close to the city."
"That's what housing mags are for," Danny said. "We'll get one on our way back to the station." He had Enoch stop to grab two home listing books at the closest grocery store. They parked at the back of the store's lot and flipped through their pages.
"No good, no good." Danny skimmed through the houses on the market.
"What about this one?" Enoch pointed to an ad on the southwest side of the city. It showed a huge, stone house with crisp, white trim. Solid, white columns supported a deep front porch and a portico. It sat on a decent sized lot with a two-car, stone garage and a big shed at the back of the property.
Danny let out a low whistle. "Talk about privacy!" The city landfill bumped up against it on one side, a wetlands lay behind it, and a gravel pit was across the street. Giant pines bordered the yard on the west. They separated it from a nature preserve and bog that led to farm fields farther down the road.
"No one should get caught in our cross fire there. We can battle without anyone knowing it."
Esp
ecially since most of their wars would take place at night, when everything around the house would be closed. Danny gave a satisfied whistle. "It's remote and still only five minutes from shopping centers. It's perfect."
Enoch nodded, reached for his cell phone, and called the realtor's number. Ten minutes later, he'd offered full price on the house, sight unseen, with five thousand over IF the owners agreed to move out over the weekend. A few minutes later, the realtor returned his call. When Enoch hung up, he looked satisfied.
"No problem," he told Danny. "The owners want to move out of town and downsize. They'll rent an apartment until they find something in their new area. We get the house on Monday."
Danny shook his head. It must be nice to have a shit load of money, but he wasn't jealous. Enoch had earned it.
They didn't talk on the drive across town. When Enoch pulled to the curb to let him out, Danny said, "I'm starting to think my real battle is with paperwork and computers. Wish me luck."
"That's still better than husbands who bring girlfriends home from Vegas."
“Being stupid. My point.” Danny gave Enoch a wave and stalked toward the station doors. Derek met him before he reached them. "We gotta go. A guy called us on his cell phone. He has a knife stuck in his head."
"Is it a butcher knife?" Danny asked, trailing behind him.
"No. A blade from a bar fight. Why?"
"Nothing." Danny felt better. He wanted the wife he'd met this morning to move on with her life and get over her husband. He wanted the killer who was stalking vamps in Three Rivers behind bars. And he wanted a little breathing space before his wedding in August. But he was a detective. The nights were getting warmer. More people were out and about. And things usually got busier. It was part of the job.
Chapter 9
The homeowners were ecstatic their house had sold. They called Enoch to arrange a time when he could come and see it. They told him that their new place would be too small for most of their furniture, so if anything interested him, they'd give him a reduced rate on it.
When his friends woke, Enoch told them his news. He wanted Voronika to go with him for the tour, but she wasn't interested. "It's a military base, not a home. Take Bart."
Enoch swallowed his disappointment. He'd hoped the house would excite Voronika, that she might want to decorate it, plant a garden. Who knew? Maybe she'd want to settle there when the war was over. He looked at Bart. "You?"
"Can't go," Bart said. "It's daylight until after nine. No one's going to wait to show us around that late."
"We can at least drive by it tonight, so that you can see it," Enoch said, "then I'll meet with the owners tomorrow."
Bart nodded. "Glad you found something. I should warn you. You might have another guest soon. Bertrand's on his way here."
Enoch knew the younger soldier with the Australian accent. He'd fought beside him once in New Zealand. "Are hunters in his territory?"
"Two burst into his nest, looked everywhere for him, but couldn't find the hidden passage that led to his underground chamber. I told him to join us here."
Enoch exhaled a frustrated sigh. "Nowhere's safe for your men. Whoever this is can find any vampire he's after."
"That's why I'm glad you found a fortress."
The girls weren't interested in inspecting the house, so after a quick meal, Bart climbed in Enoch's Land Rover, and they started across the city. They only made it a few blocks when Bart said, "Pull over. We have a problem."
Enoch parked at the curb and watched as a vampire's image wavered before Bart. "Hunter…shot… too many stakes… through wing. Landed hard. Can't fly…hiding. Need to warn you…."
"Where are you?" Bart barked.
"Close to a bridge. Fort. Almost to your apartment .…"
Something whistled past Bertrand's image.
"Have to go!"
"We're on our way!"
Enoch made a U-turn and flattened the gas pedal. At the river, he turned toward the old, wooden fort that commemorated the first settlers to the city. He jumped the curb and skidded to a stop on the grass. Heavy steps ran across the foot bridge that connected the fort's location to a nearby park. Enoch raced after them.
Bart called, "Bertrand?" When no one answered, he went to search for him.
Enoch made it to the edge of a parking lot when an engine revved to life, tires squealed, and a silver Audi sped toward Main Street. Damn! He called to Bart. "He's getting away. Can you fly and grab him?"
But then he looked at the traffic going up and down the streets. A vampire couldn't just swoop from the sky and land on a car roof without causing chaos. He called again. "Never mind." When no answer came, he retraced his steps and found Bart, crouched over a pile of ashes with a heavy, wooden stake lying nearby.
Bart's expression said it all. Bertrand.
A little breeze blew up, and Enoch quickly reached out and touched the ashes. He closed his eyes and faces passed before him—the same faces he'd seen before. The same hunter who killed Bertrand had killed the man in the bank building.
Bart raised a dark brow in question.
"This wasn't an intended kill," Enoch said. "Just dumb luck. He must have seen Bertrand in the sky and decided to go for him."
Bart stood and kicked the stake with such force, it jammed itself a few inches into the wood of the fort. "I'm ready to go back to the apartment."
Enoch nodded. He'd go see the house by himself tomorrow. Voronika was right. It was just a base, a war camp. Everything from now on would be about strategy.
Chapter 10
Gino Rienzi couldn't believe his luck. He was still waiting for a new bloodsucker partner to show up and tell him where to find his target, but guess what? He didn't need the dumb bastard. He'd found the thing on his own!
He almost whooped with joy as he drove across town. This deserved a celebration—a victory drink. He could finally pack up and leave this hick place. There was a nightclub out north he'd been wanting to try. He called Manny on the way.
"Got him!" he said. "My job's done here."
Manny hesitated. "Not what I heard. You shot the wrong one."
"Can't be. He had wings. He flew over me. Who does that but a vampire?"
"He wasn't the right one. Your vamp partner's been making the rounds, looking for our guy. No luck yet. You're lucky you didn't stake him, you dumb shit."
Gino tightened his hands on the steering wheel. "You could have told me my partner made town."
"No need to. I spelled it out for you. Our guy contacts us. Tells us where to find your mark. I call you. You stake the vamp in his sleep. End of job. You come home. But you? You don't listen so well."
"This job sucks."
"It's a hit. It's what we do. Get it right." The phone went dead.
Gino cussed under his breath. He really needed that drink now. Maybe a lot of them.
He parked in front of the sprawling nightclub. Screw it. He'd been up and down every street in Three Rivers, looking for his vamp. How was he supposed to know they came in groups? Every hunter had been given a rogue to work with, but Gino's first partner was an idiot who'd led him to the wrong victim. So the vamp was called home. Wherever that was. Where did a vampire hang his hat? Or hang himself? Gino had no idea and didn't care.
Gino didn't like this job, didn't want it. But it's not like he had a choice. He'd gotten the phone call when he was home in New York. He had a new hit—a guy with leathery wings and long fangs, but no worries. One of his own would rat him out, and Gino could stake him during the day. At first, he thought his boss must have gotten whacked too hard on the head. Either that, or maybe he was going senile, but then Luigi had been staked in a hotel room—one of the big, old bosses. And then Mario had been staked in Chicago, at a party no less. His boss told him that vamps did it as a trade off.
"I ain't working with no horror movie freak," Gino said.
"You don't have to. Their people call me. I call you. You ain't involved in nothing but the kill. How hard is that?"
>
He made it sound easy. Gino didn't believe him, but when the call came, he grabbed the crossbow he'd been given, got his wooden stakes, and went hunting. Problem was, when he broke in the office door where his mark was supposed to be snoozing, the guy reached for a gun and Gino had to drill him. There was lots of blood but no dust. Their informant needed a brain.
With no little vamp tattle tale, Gino was lost. How did you find a vampire that didn't want found? Manny promised there'd be another rogue, but no one told Gino he'd already shown up.
He walked into the biggest bar in the club and plopped onto a stool. The girl serving drinks caught his attention. Tall and lean with long blond hair, she had an easy way about her. At the moment, she was chatting up two cops. When she came to take his order, Gino winked. "What's the matter? They need to check your I.D.?"
She smiled—all warm and friendly. A flirt. He liked flirts. "No, they're friends of my dad's. He's head of homicide."
"Really?" Gino's mind was buzzing with ideas. If this girl listened to her dad at all, she'd hear station gossip. His smile matched hers. "Is that supposed to scare me?"
"It usually goes one of two ways," she said. "When people find out, and they always do, they either dump me or pump me."
"Pump you?" Naughty images filled his mind.
"Some people are turned on by cops. They try to dig for juicy details that don't make the papers."
"In this little burg? There can't be much going on."
She raised a blond eyebrow. "Is that so? Where are you from that's so exciting?"
"New York, and we just had a guy staked in his hotel room."
"Read the papers. We had a guy staked in his office."
Gino opened his eyes wide in surprise. "Small world."
“Who knew? Now that we've broken the ice, what can I get you? You came here for a drink, right?"
"How about a gin and tonic…and a date?"
"I don't date customers."