by J. L. McCoy
“All right, kitten, all right,” Corvus placated, holding his hands up. “You may play with the big gun. Just promise to keep a firm grip on that thing when you pull the trigger. Its recoil is no joke.”
“Like I said, Dark One—” I smiled. “—I’ve got this.”
“Ammunition is in the drawer under the display. Magazines and extended mags are in the cabinet above it.”
“Let me get you geared up, Morrison,” Hagan offered helpfully and began walking over to the holsters and vests as I set the gun down on the table near me and started unloading boxes of .50 cals.
“Ifreann na Fola,” Hagan exclaimed a few minutes later as he came to stand beside me. “You’ve got RIP ACP rounds for the DE?”
“Silver core, too.” Corvus smiled knowledgeably. “Specifically designed to spilt apart on impact and inflict unparalleled shrapnel damage. The silver center will kill instantly upon direct impact with the heart. Though if you’re shooting at Stanus Octavius, please keep away from the heart. We want him alive.”
“And I thought An Dílis were the only ones with the cool toys.”
“We fight Dark Ones, too, Day Walker. Remember that next time you want to get all high and mighty with us just because you can walk in the light. Most of the time, we take care of the problem before it even lands on your radar.”
“You missed the mark with Stanus,” I said seriously, over my shoulder, as I continued to load the RIP rounds into another extended magazine. “And with Amun.”
“Those were extraordinary circumstances.”
I chose to drop the topic before the conversation delved deeper. I was still pissed off that I had to deal with Stanus’s ass in the first place and doubly angry that he got his disgusting paws on my best friend. I didn’t want my anger to say something my ass couldn’t take back.
Hagan selected a few guns and joined Corvus and me as we loaded extra ammo into magazines. Once we had twenty mags each, we packed them into our own ammunition bags and threw in several additional boxes of bullets. I reminded myself to grab my clutch and dagger from the plane. I didn’t want to be without my dagger in a fight. Guns jammed, but my dagger would always be true. Plus, if I ever ran out of ammo, the dagger was all I’d have to protect myself.
After a quick “How To” lesson on loading and reloading the Desert Eagle, Hagan had me stand still while he strapped on my gear. I was given a thigh holster with a specially modified dual hip reloader that held two mags, a tactical shoulder vest that held a backup DE .50AE under my left arm, three additional magazines under my right, and had a wicked cool spine speed reloader in back. One quick cross of my elbows would drop the reloader down for easy and quick access to my six backup extended mags that held ten bullets each. Lastly, he fitted me with a leather left thigh holster that my dagger would later go into.
After stepping back and silently appraising my gear, he snapped his fingers and looked up into my eyes. “You need a boot gun.”
“Why on earth would I need three guns, Hagan? These two beasts are more than enough.”
“Just in case. Go pick out a smaller one that you can fit inside the top of your boot.”
Doing as I was told, I strolled over to the wall and gave it a long glance. “What about this one?” I asked, selecting a small but pretty badass looking pistol.
“Very nice.” Hagan smiled.
“That’s one of my favorite guns,” Corvus said, having finished gearing up himself. “If you take it, I want it back.”
“What is it?” I asked, fingering the star-shaped serrations on the side.
“That’s a Hellfire 3, 9mm handgun from Mayhem International. Coincidentally, they are custom made in Austin, Texas.”
“It’s the perfect boot gun for you, Morrison,” Hagan interjected, grabbing RIP rounds for it. “3.7” barrel with a VIP grip; fifteen in the mag with one in the chamber gives you sixteen rounds of ‘fuck you up.’”
I chuckled at his verbiage. Hagan was kind of adorable when he was excited, and boy did he get excited when he talked about guns. “I chose well then. Thank you for letting me borrow it, Frost.”
“You’re lucky you’re so gorgeous, kitten. I never let anyone touch that gun.”
“Flattery will get you nowhere with me.” I smirked, rolling my eyes. “But thank you just the same.”
“Aww, kitten. I think we’d be good together if only you’d give it a chance,” he replied saucily, taking a few steps toward me.
Hagan growled loudly and flashed over to stand between Corvus and me. “Back. The. FUCK. UP! She’s not yours, Dark One. If you want to play with something, go play in traffic.”
“She’s not yours either, Day Walker,” he retorted, seemingly unaffected by the murderous gaze in Hagan’s eyes.
Sighing, I shook my head, stuffed the newly loaded Hellfire in my boot, grabbed my ammo bag and headed back up the stairs. I was getting awfully tired of them fighting over stupid shit, but what more could I expect? I was traveling with two different races of vampire, sworn enemies. They had hated each other for an eternity. One trip across the ocean wasn’t going to change that.
Back up top in the hanger, I headed straight for the plane and quickly snagged my eight-inch dagger from my clutch purse. I chose to leave the purse on the plane as I knew we’d be using it to travel back to the States.
As I descended the airstairs, Hagan and Corvus were coming out of the bunker. They were strapped to the gills with guns and extra magazines. Hagan even had what looked to me like a sniper rifle.
“I take back my previous statement,” I said, following them to the blacked-out SUV awaiting us. “We look like extras in a badass Goth music video.”
Chapter Twelve
The sun had finally set, and we were halfway to our destination, according to Corvus. He said Stanus owned a mansion just outside of Immenstadt, which was on the north shore of Lake Constance near the Austrian and Swiss borders. He shared with us aerial photos of the property and told us everything he knew about the compound, which wasn’t a whole hell of a lot. Rumor had it he kept a small staff there year round, as well as security forces. I had no idea what we would be up against, but felt ready to finally confront and catch the bastard who hurt my best friend.
“What if we entered from the north?” I asked, pointing to a spot on the far side of the property. “The trees there will provide coverage if we need.”
“There’s a small hill a click or so behind that,” Hagan said thoughtfully. “We should use the snipe scope to check it out first.”
“Agreed.” Corvus nodded appreciatively.
“How many security guards do you think he keeps stationed there at any given time?”
“We’ve had reports of fifteen when Stanus is home and as few as three when he’s away,” Corvus answered me. “But, those reports are from known associates of his only giving us the information in exchange for sparing their lives, so you never know if it is truth or lies. I think we should be prepared for a small army, though... just in case.”
“With what we’re strapped down with, we can handle a small army.”
“Don’t let the guns give you false confidence, Morrison,” Hagan chastised. “That would be a costly mistake.”
“Can’t die, remember?” I smirked, looking over at him.
“Let’s just stop testing the theory, okay?”
“To have your powers...,” Corvus whispered to himself, a far-off look in his eyes.
Hagan growled and lunged for him then, his hand wrapping around Corvus’s throat. The movement was so quick I almost didn’t have time to react.
“It is not a gift,” he shouted in his face. “It is a curse! Scum like you will always want her power. You will always hunt her down and seek her out, trying to persuade her to your side or to see your view on things. You only want to use her, and she is not a fucking toy! She is a Day Walker; a very loved, cherished, and, most importantly, protected member of the Day Walker race. You say some fucked-up shit like that again, little man
, and I’ll end you. Get me?”
“Hagan, please,” I whispered softly. “He doesn’t truly understand the dangers my powers bring me. He can’t. Please, let him go.”
“Yes, Day Walker,” Corvus stated dangerously, his eyes flickering pitch black as his fangs slid down, “do let me go.”
I’d never seen cool-as-a-cucumber Corvus get this upset before, and I was worried. Atticus made me promise no harm would come to his son and, most importantly, that Hagan would never touch him. Hagan just crossed a line, and if Corvus chose to inform his father about it later, there’d be hell to pay.
Speaking to Hagan in broken Irish Gaelic, I reminded him of such.
“Needs work, Morrison,” Hagan stated gruffly as he released Corvus and sat back in his seat.
“Touch me again, Day Walker—”
“He won’t,” I promised quickly. “Hagan will never touch you again. We are all going to get along and be civil to one another. Our mission is much more important than your incessant squabbling.”
“He should apologize.”
“Never,” Hagan stated matter-of-factly.
“You know what? I’ve had it with your fighting! If you two can’t get along and respect each other’s personal space, then I’m sorry, Hagan, but you will have to go back to Austin. I need us working as a cohesive team to catch Stanus. If you guys can’t do that, then I’m going to ask you to leave. I have to travel with Corvus, Atticus demanded it, but I don’t have to travel with you. I love you, you big ol’ brute, but I can’t have you here if you two can’t get along. I can’t. It could ultimately endanger both your lives.”
The SUV was silent for a long moment, the only sound emanating from them was a sigh from Hagan and the snick of Corvus putting away his fangs. After a terse minute or so, Corvus was the first to speak.
“I apologize for what I said. I should not have commented on your powers. It was uncouth of me.”
“Apology gratefully accepted. Hagan?”
“I will not touch the Dark One again.”
“And?” I prodded.
“And I promise not to argue with him... for your sake.”
“Thank you, Hagan,” I said softly, reaching over to gently squeeze his leg. “I desperately want you by my side during all this; I need you by my side. Your presence makes me feel secure.”
“Are you getting soft on me, Morrison?” Hagan harrumphed.
“Only where it counts.”
Half an hour later, we were belly down on the crest of the hill overlooking Stanus’s compound. Hagan was peering through the rifle scope using infrared technology and had just reported no movement whatsoever.
“You think he’s not there?” I inquired, frustrated.
“I see no guards on the grounds, but there could possibly be someone inside. The curtains are still drawn.”
“If I were Stanus, I’d have men patrolling around the clock. He’s in deep shit and he knows it.”
“I agree with Miss Morrison,” Corvus offered. “Maybe he was smart enough not to come back here.”
“He’s not that smart,” I quipped. “He fucked with me and started a war.”
“I think we should split up,” Hagan provided, folding up the legs on the rifle’s bipod. “Morrison can take the north side corner of the fence, and you and I will take the east.”
“Risky, don’t you think?” I asked, my brow furrowed with worry.
“You can handle yourself; it’s Corvus I’m worried about.”
“So kind of you,” he replied dryly.
“Enough chitchat. We get over the fence and into the house then meet in the kitchen and sweep the house together if we haven’t met any resistance going in,” Hagan directed, then continued. “If we meet resistance, take them out quietly. We don’t want them alerting anyone else. Copy?”
“Copy.”
“Got it.”
We split up then, and my heartbeat picked up a bit as the adrenalin flowed. I was more than ready to get Stanus, deliver him to the leader of the Dark Ones and in turn save my father’s life, and then fly back to Austin to deal with the fallout from my argument with Archer. I knew there was going to be severe consequences. He was completely furious and that worried me.
Stealthily, I bent lower to the ground and flashed over to the north side of the compound wall. With my back against it, I crouched down and listened intently for any indication that I was seen. A full minute of silence told me I was safe, so I carefully scaled the wall and quickly hopped over, dropping down into a squat and making myself as small as possible. Still no sign of guards, and that had me concerned given Corvus’s previous report.
I waited another few heartbeats before standing and pulling out my gun. Flipping the safety off with my right thumb, I cautiously began my journey to the main house.
The compound was huge, but the land it sat on more so. The house was styled in old German architecture and made out of the finest stone. Approaching it, I could see that it was very old and briefly wondered how long Stanus had lived here off and on.
Nearing a back door, my heartbeat picked up more as my ears listened intently for any signs of life in the house. I heard the faint sounds of dishes rattling and my brow creased as I dropped into a squat again. What on earth? Staring at the door, I wondered how I was going to get in. Should I break the glass? No, that’ll make too much noise. Do I try the knob? If it’s locked, maybe I could quietly break it using my vampire strength. What if there is an alarm? Shaking my head, I sighed. Talking to myself was not exactly normal, and I knew I was far from normal anyway. But answering myself... well, that was a whole different pair of crazy pants. I really need to stop doing that, I silently mused.
A rustling came from behind the door, and I had a two-second warning before it swung open. Like my very existence depended on it, I darted to the shadows and flattened myself against the stone house, not twenty feet from the back door. An older woman walked out, humming an unfamiliar song and carrying with her a bag of trash, her ruffle-bottomed apron swinging in sync with every step. I watched for a few seconds as she strolled down the walkway and to the trash can located by the garage.
I wasted no time flashing to the now wide-open back door. I took a one-second survey of the empty kitchen and darted in, thankful for the twist of luck. Footsteps pounded nearby, and I knew in that moment I’d been discovered. How, I did not know, but I did know I had two choices here. I could run and hide or I could stand my ground and face the two individuals I heard coming. The former sounded smarter, but the anger in me made me choose the later. Leveling my Desert Eagle, I widened my stance and prepared to meet trouble.
“Wer zum verdammt seid ihr?” the first man asked, his own gun drawn and pointed at me.
“I have no idea what you’re saying, but I’m guessing it’s not ‘Welcome.’”
The second man arrived just then, gun in hand as well. “Drop your weapon,” he demanded in heavily accented English.
“You first,” I commanded, using vampire speed to pull the second gun out of my vest and pointing it at the man.
“Lege deine waffe hinunter und ich werde dich nicht ins gesicht schießen!” the first man commanded loudly.
“I already told you I don’t speak asshole,” I said, my eyes darting back and forth between them. “What did he say?” I asked the second man.
“He said he won’t shoot you in the face if you put your gun down.”
“Well, it looks like we officially have ourselves an old-fashioned Mexican standoff here, because I’m not dropping my weapons,” I stated plainly, tightening my grip on the guns.
“Sie sagte etwas über mexikaner,” the second man relayed to the first, and he looked confused at the news.
“Where is Stanus Octavius?” I demanded.
“He is not here,” he answered, and his voice resonated with the sound of cold hard truth.
“Then where is he?” I shouted.
“Yes, where is Stanus?” I heard Corvus ask behind me a second before I he
ard a female whimper.
The two men in front of me immediately held their weapons up and to the side. The cavalry had finally arrived.
I felt safe enough to turn my head then and saw Corvus and Hagan behind me, guns drawn. Corvus had his to the woman’s head, and a quick inspection of her uniform told me that she was a maid. Her rapid heartbeat told me she was human.
“I don’t know,” he answered again in his heavy accent, and this time the sound was harsh and biting.
“He’s lying,” I reported.
“Lassen sie ihre waffen fallen und treten sie weg von ihnen,” Hagan barked, and I watched as the two men looked at each other before laying their weapons down on the ground and kicking them a few feet away.
“Where is he?” Corvus demanded again, coming to stand beside me, his gun still on the maid’s temple.
“Put your gun down, asshole,” I hissed angrily as I took in her shivering form. “You’re terrifying her.”
Instead of putting his gun down, he took the barrel off the maid’s temple and pointed it at the second man. “I said. WHERE. IS. HE?” he screamed staccato as his eyes flickered pitch black.
“I’d answer him if I were you. He’s packing silver bullets in that gun,” Hagan said.
The two security guards looked at each other before the second one reluctantly answered. “Mr. Octavius only said that he would be traveling for a while, and if we needed to contact him, he could be reached through the Hôtel Saint-Merry in Paris.”
The tinkling sounds of truth rang through the room. “He’s telling the truth, Frost.”
“Was that so hard?” Hagan asked, lowering his weapon.
I glanced over at Corvus, but he still had the maid by the bicep and his gun still trained on the men. “You are now known associates and sympathizers of Stanus Octavius who is wanted for high treason and the attempted murder of our leader. If it were just you and I here, I would put a bullet into each of your heads and never give it a second thought. Your life has been spared today because we are in the company of Day. But make no mistake... I will not forget your faces,” he stated ominously. “If I ever see them again, you will meet the final death.”