by L Ann
In the process of checking her own weapon – a SIG Sauer P226 – Morgan glanced up at him. “Did we come to ask nicely?”
“Well no, but –“ Taz finished the sentence with a shrug, watching as Morgan tightened her leg holster and slipped the pistol into it and then leaned against the car.
“How would you like to deal with our uninvited guests?”
Taz quirked an eyebrow, tossing a quick glance at the building and smiled. “Sure, it would be my pleasure.” He took a longer, more pensive look at the building – specifically the top floor – then nodded. “From the scent, there’s at least three of them and they haven’t been here longer than five minutes.
“You tripping the fire alarm should delay them a few minutes and it’ll take the closest fire fighters a good twenty minutes to get here.” He smiled again. “Yeah, more than enough time.”
“More than enough time for what?” Morgan asked.
“For me to take care of the Sunshine Boys and you to handle retrieving the recording part,” he answered. “So long as it’s understood – Kayla doesn’t get whacked. What you do to anyone else, I couldn’t care less.”
Morgan looked blank. “Who is Kayla?”
“She’s the reporter who told me about the video. You shouldn’t have any problems ID’ing her. She’ll be in one of the viewing rooms with the guy who recorded the Cherry Hill attack.”
Morgan shrugged. “I can’t make any promises. If she gets in my way, she’ll be dealt with. I’m sorry.”
“She’s a powder puff. I can guarantee she won’t give you any trouble.”
“There's trouble and then there’s trouble. I’ll do what I can but I won’t make a promise I can’t guarantee I can keep.”
Taz knew he had to be satisfied with that, but he didn’t like it. “Let’s do this instead,” he said. “Why don’t you take care of the Rromas and I’ll deal with the other situation.”
Morgan frowned, finally looking at him. “You’re in a relationship with this girl, aren’t you? Don’t let it overshadow who and what you are,” she told him softly, almost gently. Not giving Taz a chance to respond, she pushed away from her perch against the car and moved swiftly away into the darkness.
“Women! Just have to get the last word,” he muttered then followed, chuckling at the raised middle finger he got in response to his words.
They moved rapidly to the back of the building discovered one of the fire doors ajar. Taz eased it open, and they slipped through, scanning the walls for a fire alarm.
“Scent is fairly strong,” Taz sniffed the air in the darkened corridor ahead of them. “There’s more than three. And, if I know Rromas, they probably left at least two on the ground floor as lookouts.”
“It’s not worth evacuating the building. The Rroma won’t try for stealth.” Morgan slid the gun out of its holster and flicked off the safety. “You go on. I’ll catch up with you after I’ve dealt with whoever is down here.” She watched Taz take off for the stairwell before closing her eyes and turning her attention inward. She focused on the sounds of her heartbeat, her breathing and deeper to that calm centre where training took over. Opening her eyes, she listened for the sounds of the building, discarding those that seemed normal and focusing on the ones that were out of place – a hiss of breath, the creak of leather, and the smell of oiled metal… of weapons.
Silently, she padded toward the far end of the corridor, keeping to the shadows, until the scent of the two Rroma guards came to her. Keeping her gun firmly in hand, she reached around and pulled out the knife that rested in the small of her back with her left hand.
Dispatching the two unwary vampires was simple enough – both were arrogant enough to have believed no one would see or hear them and they were more interested in discussing what they would do once they’d finished for the night than they were in listening for intruders. She had sliced one’s throat before the second had realised anything untoward was happening and, by that point, it was way too late for him.
Wiping the blade on their clothes, she stepped over them, aware that within a few minutes there would be nothing left but a pile of cloth and ashes, and headed back for the stairwell.
~*~
What would have taken a human – even an athlete in tiptop shape and at a full run – at least four minutes to navigate the stairwell to the sixth floor took less than two for Taz. He paused at the entry door, ear cocked for sounds of activity on its opposite side. There were considerable – sounds, that is. Numerous voices, the thump of footfalls on concrete, and the rustle and swish of synthetic fabric against human skin.
Time? He checked his wristwatch as memory kicked in. One of the numerous talks (of which he’d only partly paid attention to) with Kayla concerning her daily activities at KOMO-TV. Some of the staff arrived early, somewhere between the hours of 1:30 and 2:00 AM.
It was 2:45. “Shit!”
Getting the people in the hallways and offices would be child’s play. As simple as using the infallible vampire ability known as ‘The Veil’ – the art of invisibility. The problem was in the presence of others – i.e., potential witnesses and/or unexpected interruptions. He hadn’t wanted to admit – to Morgan especially – but the stealthy approach was better suited to the Necuno. Taz had always found shock, surprise and panic to be the better strategy.
~*~
Morgan recognised vampire voodoo when she saw it – the group of people walking silently toward the elevators was not natural and Morgan knew it was down to Taz’s mental suggestion that they vacate which had them moving like a single hive mind. Moving to one side, she let the eerily silent group pass and gave a moment’s recognition to the skill required to send so many people under at one time. She caught up with Taz where he stood outside an office, his face intent as he listened to the voices inside.
Slowing to a stop beside him, Morgan waited for him to acknowledge her, eyes narrowing when he raised two fingers, then pointed at himself. A nod told him she understood the message – two other vampires inside, probably Rroma. He laid a hand on her arm and motioned for her to follow him back down the corridor.
Once they were out of hearing distance, Taz spoke, keeping his voice low. “There’s two more Rroma inside, along with Kayla and the guy who brought in the tape.”
“Then we’re out of options. We have to get in there and there’s no way of doing it without the girl seeing things she shouldn’t.”
Taz shook his head. “I think there might be a way.”
~*~
“Well, that worked out better than I expected.” Morgan broke the silence as they entered Shadowfall. “And your girlfriend survived.”
“She’s not my girlfriend,” Taz’s denial was immediate.
“What then? Your fuck buddy?” Morgan’s laugh was brittle. “Call it what you will. You’re sleeping with her.”
“You jealous?” Taz countered.
“No. Were you sleeping with her when you came to Vegas?”
“Hadn’t even met her,” Taz grinned. “You are jealous.”
“What have I got to be jealous about?” Morgan asked. “It was a weekend, not a declaration of eternal devotion.”
“It could have been more than a weekend if you hadn’t shot me.”
“Yeah, right,” Morgan laughed. “What happens in Vegas…”
“Stays in Vegas – yes, I know the saying. Doesn’t make it true though.”
Morgan shook her head. “I’m not talking about this anymore.”
Taz smiled, pushing the button to call the elevator. “So, you accept that there is a this to talk about?”
“No,” Morgan disagreed. “I’m saying you’re talking rubbish.”
Taz gave her a sidelong glance. “So, if I suggested we go back to my suite, take all our clothes off and roll around naked together – you’re telling me that wouldn’t tempt you?”
She scowled, ignoring the sudden heat that flooded her. “Absolutely not!”
Taz spun on his heel and leant forward un
til his lips were against her ear. “Liar,” he whispered, then continued the move which took him past her and into the waiting elevator car.
Morgan followed him more slowly, taking position at the opposite site of the compartment, her arms folded across her chest. “I’m not lying.”
“Who are you trying to convince? Me or yourself?” Taz smirking, pushing the button to take them up to his floor.
“Convincing you doesn’t matter, does it?” As soon as the words left her mouth and Taz’s smirk became a full-blown smile, Morgan knew she’d made a mistake. “I meant that I don’t care whether you think I’m lying or not.”
A definite lie. Her heartbeat had sped up by a good five beats per minute since they had entered the elevator. And her scent… GOD… so strong he could almost chew it. More than likely involuntary, but it was sending a very clear message to Taz. She wants me – not doubt about it.
And I want her. No use trying to deny it. It’d been all he could do to keep his hands off her since she first showed up in Shadowfall. And that bothered him. Confused the hell out of him. She was a gorgeous woman, yes. But still, just a woman. One he’d already bedded. He rarely – very rarely – had any residual yearnings for any woman after the first dance between the sheets. It was always ‘been there, had that, what’s next?’. But this one – this one touched him in a way; in a place; none of the others had ever reached before.
“Why did you sleep with me in Vegas?” His complete change of direction made Morgan blink.
“It seemed like a good idea at the time. Now I’m not sure it was.”
“So, let me get this clear in my head. You decided, out of the blue, upon sight of me, that I’d be a great first lay?” He watched with some fascination as Morgan went scarlet.
“That wasn’t how it was!” she denied.
“How was it then?” He arched an eyebrow. “I would like to know. I’ve gone over that weekend in my head a million times and I can’t see why you felt the need to shoot me.”
“Why does everything have to be about you?”
“Because it was me who took the bullet?” He pushed himself away from the wall and took the three steps needed to stand right in front of her. “We had a good time. Hell, it was better than good. You wanted me as much as I wanted you. And then you fucking shot me!”
“I will shoot you again if you don’t back off.” There was a thread of warning in her voice.
“Tell me you don’t think about that weekend. That you haven’t once wondered what could have happened if we’d followed it through.”
“I don’t think about it,” Morgan repeated his words flatly.
“You are,” Taz planted his hands either side of her head and bent forward so their eyes were level, “a liar.”
“I am not lying,” she hissed in return.
“Then why do you want me to kiss you?” he asked.
“I don’t!”
“No?” Taz lowered his gaze, knowing hers would follow, to where her hands had risen of their own accord and were clutching at the lapels of his jacket. He timed his next move to perfection – waiting until Morgan’s eyes lifted to meet his; he smiled at her look of startled confusion and dipped his head to capture her lips.
Morgan’s first instinct was to fight and, had Taz attempted to hold her in place in any way she would have, but he touched her with nothing other than his mouth and even that was featherlight, easy to break away from, and she found herself straining forwards instead, chasing his lips with her own and it was her hands that gripped the material beneath her fingers tightly and hauled him closer.
“You know –“ an amused masculine voice brought them back to their senses, and they separated abruptly. “That’s why the emergency stop got invented.”
“Fallon.” Taz turned toward the man who had just entered the elevator and forced a grin as he fought to regain control of himself. “Good to see you.”
“Taz.” Fallon extended a hand in greeting and they shook. “Modales, mi amigo. Where are your manners?” The new arrival eyed Morgan with an undeniably roguish grin. “Who is your lovely companion?”
“Fallon Wylde meet –“ Taz paused and glanced over at the woman in question, who returned his look with an angry one of her own. “Meet Anna.”
Fallon slid forward, skirting the deliberate obstacle of Taz’s form to take Morgan’s hand and raise it to his lips. “A name as enchanting as the one who possesses it...”
“Charmed,” Morgan’s tone made it clear she was anything but.
The swish and ding as the elevator opened again came as a relief to Morgan and she tugged her fingers free from Fallon and stalked past Taz into the corridor.
Soft male laughter and a murmured “that one will burn you if you’re not careful, mi amigo,” told Morgan that Taz had exited behind her and she quickened her pace, thinking only to keep some distance between them.
It didn’t work.
“Whoa. Hold up a minute.” He caught up with her, both hands held up as if to ward off retaliatory attack as he blocked her path. “One of us has to report to the Old Man. Why don’t I do that? You go back to my suite and get comfortable.” His grin, known to make women melt into a puddle at his feet, flashed on again and he pressed his key-card into her hand. “Throw on something sexy and I’ll be back in ten or twenty minutes.” He nodded, not waiting for a response. “Yeah, that sounds good. See you soon!”
Morgan watched him depart, her lower lip hanging. She couldn’t decide whether he was just that confident about himself and his own attraction or had developed a sudden death wish and wanted her to take the starring role. She was still mulling over that two options when she arrived back at the suite.
What bothered her more, however, she considered as she opened the suitcase that had been delivered to the suite earlier, was her own reaction to him. He was the only man she had ever met who made her want to do things she’d never missed in her ninety-plus years of existence. Not only that, he was the only person who made her lose her temper so easily and quickly. Shying away from the obvious fact she found him attractive, Morgan told herself that her unusual behaviour was due to tiredness. A long hot shower and eight hours solid shut-eye was what she needed.
~*~
Meerschaum pipe and cigar, silk smoking jackets, coconut-sized goblets of brandy – Taz couldn’t help laughing to himself at the visual comparison of his father and Hamish to Holmes and Watson. Although he seriously doubted that Conan Doyle’s celebrated imagination could have even come half-close to some of the adventures the two men across the dimly lit suite had experienced in their extended lifetimes.
“Mission accomplished.” Taz held up a small, but professional-strength SONY camcorder as he perched on one of the high bar stools.
“Backlash?” The elder vampire half-murmured over the rim of his goblet – which was ‘Zuron-ese’ for ‘did you handle it in your usual careless, bloody fashion?’
Before Taz reacted to the implied criticism, Hamish rephrased. “Details, my boy.”
“We ran into a couple of unexpected challenges,” Taz resisted the urge to chuckle. “Nothing we couldn’t handle, though.”
“There’s two more Rroma inside, along with Kayla and the guy who brought in the tape.”
“Then we’re out of options. We have to get in there and there’s no way of doing it without the girl seeing things she shouldn’t.”
Taking a moment, Taz tasked his heightened senses to gauge the situation within the room. He could easily make out and pinpoint four distinct heartbeats – two human, two vampire. One of the former, male, was slow and rhythmic, signifying he was most probably unconscious. The other, female – Kayla – was racing out of control. She was terrified to the point of hysteria. But then, Taz didn’t have to guess on that score. He could hear her sporadic, high-pitched chant of “Please don’t hurt me. Please don’t hurt me’ mixed in with heavy breathing and the occasional nasty giggle.
Position-wise Kayla and the Rromas were at the centre of
the room, at least eight feet from the door.
“Only one way to deal with it,” he told Morgan.
Zuron snorted. “Let me guess. You kicked in the door like a pair of television policemen and rushed in with guns blazing.”
“No,” Taz contradicted. “I knocked on the door, yelled ‘Pizza Delivery’, and waited until someone inside opened the door.”
The look on the face of the Rroma who answered the door was priceless – for about two seconds. He barely had time to let go of the doorknob before Morgan’s 9mm silver parabellum round put a dime-sized hole right between his bushy eyebrows. He dropped like the temperature at sunset in South Dakota in October, at which point Taz was already inside and across the room.
The second Rroma was oblivious to what had transpired. He stood ogling – drooling – over Kayla, who cowered against the wall in bra and panties, discarded clothing scattered at her bare feet.
“Obviously, they weren’t pros,” Taz said. “They were playing with her. Forcing her to do a striptease before they fed on her – among other things.”
“And you put him down while he was distracted?” Hamish prompted.
“You could say that.” Taz gave a hard laugh. “At the last second he was tipped off by Kayla’s reaction to my presence. He reached for his gun and swung toward me. I broke his nose with the barrel of my Beretta and laid him out. Then I put Kayla under, had her get back into her clothes and sit at one of the work tables. Then I put her to sleep.”
Morgan had gone straight to the room’s other human occupant when they entered. The Rromas had roughed him up a little, nothing more serious than a cut over his left eye and couple of bruised ribs before they put him under and laid him on the floor. She found the camcorder still in his backpack. They hadn’t had a chance to set it up for viewing before they were interrupted.
“So, we got lucky,” Taz finished.
“I’m impressed, Taz.” Hamish saluted with his brandy and took a large swig.
Zuron, characteristically, was not so easily swayed. “Clean up? Loose ends?”