“Jesus,” Matt said again, the hairs on the back of his neck stirring at the description, somehow knowing this was more than a simple crazy man going after cops.
“When the other cop saw the perp rip his partner’s throat out, he began to shoot. His first two shots hit his partner, but he said he put at least four slugs dead center in the bastard and it didn’t even slow him down. He was coming after the cop when three more patrol cars arrived and he just turned and ran off into the darkness.”
“He ran off with four bullets in him?” Matt asked incredulously.
Shooter nodded. “Yeah, and that’s not all. The surviving cop gave a description of the perp that reminds me of someone we both know.”
Matt felt a chill go down his spine and his bowels turned to water as he remembered the phone call at Sam’s apartment the other day. “Morpheus?”
Shooter nodded. “Either Morpheus or one of the other bastards just like him.”
“Oh shit!” Matt said, “I need to call Sam! The son of a bitch may go there next.”
Shooter held up a hand. “Whoa, slow down. I already thought of that. I sent a couple of men over to stay in front of the girls’ apartment for the rest of the night.”
Matt’s face blanched. “Shooter, you know two men won’t be able to stop him if he wants to get to them.”
“Not usually, Matt, but remember, he’s taken some shots tonight. I figure he’ll lay low for a day or two until he can fully recover before he makes a move on Sam or TJ.”
“I hope you’re right,” Matt said, still not convinced.
“Yeah, me too,” Shooter said. “But, just in case I’m not, as soon as you get off, I thought we’d go on over there, pick up the women, and all go to a hotel or someplace he won’t think to look until we can sort this out.”
Matt stood up, all thoughts of sleep forgotten as he began to shrug out of his bloodstained scrubs. “Good idea. Give me five minutes.”
Six
As soon as Matt had changed into fresh scrubs, he and Shooter rushed out of the break room and down the corridor toward the parking lot. Matt’s gut was churning and his mind wouldn’t let go of the possibility that Shooter was wrong and that at that very moment the monster Morpheus might be tearing down the door to the girls’ apartment. He knew the bastard was obsessed with Sam and there was no telling what he might do, gunshot wounds notwithstanding.
“Shooter! Matt!” a voice called out from the waiting room.
They stopped and turned, both surprised to find Chief of Detectives, Damon Clark, standing there. Matt noticed he’d gained some of his weight back since his recent abdominal operations and, other than appearing somewhat sleepy, looked healthy.
“Hey, chief,” Shooter said, while Matt just nodded, not wanting to be delayed by any conversations that weren’t absolutely necessary.
Clark looked over his shoulder at several men and three young women in the waiting room with him. “I’m here with the mayor and the chief of police,” he said.
“Oh?” Matt said. He hadn’t noticed them standing off to the side.
Clark wiped his face with his hand, as if he could erase the fatigue evident on his face with the gesture. “Yeah. The brass always turns out when an officer is killed in the line of duty,” he explained.
As Matt looked over the chief of detective’s shoulder at the group of people in the waiting room, he noticed the dean of the medical school, Dr. James Shufelt, was standing next to three young women who were red faced and teary eyed.
“Why is the dean here?” Matt asked, his gaze returning to Damon Clark.
“Oh, I guess you didn’t know,” he answered, glancing over his shoulder and lowering his voice to make sure the others couldn’t hear him. “The young woman who was attacked, Catherine Williams, works in the dean’s office. Those girls there are also from the office.” He gave a grimace. “They were out tonight celebrating Catherine’s twenty-first birthday.”
“Jesus,” Matt whispered. The significance of Morpheus attacking a woman who worked in the medical center suddenly dawned on him, and it made his heart thrum with fear. The son of a bitch was sending a message to Sam, that he could take her any time he wanted.
Clark pursed his lips, a speculative gleam in his eyes as he stared at Matt and Shooter, wondering why they appeared so frightened. “Where are you two off to in such a hurry?”
“Chief, we really don’t have time to go into it right now,” Shooter said, glancing at his watch. “We think Sam and TJ are in danger and we’re going to get them someplace safe.”
“Danger?” Clark asked, surprised. He’d met both Sam and TJ during the hunt the previous year for the so-called Vampyre Killer and had grown quite fond of both of them. “What kind of danger?”
“I’ll explain it to you later, Chief, but we’ve really got to go now. Okay?” Shooter was practically jumping up and down in his haste to get going.
“Does it have anything to do with what happened tonight?”
“It has everything to do with it,” Matt said, his face showing his deep anxiety.
“All right,” Clark said. “But, Shooter, call me on my cell phone as soon as you’ve got the women situated and tell me what the hell’s going on!”
“Yes, sir!” Shooter said over his shoulder as he and Matt practically ran out the door.
As the two men separated to get in their cars, Matt called, “I’ll call the girls on my mobile and tell them to be ready for us when we get there.”
“Right,” Shooter shouted as he jumped over the driver’s door to his Mustang convertible without slowing to open it and hurriedly started the engine.
While Matt raced out of the parking lot, he pulled out his cell phone and pushed the number one and then the send key. He had Sam and TJ’s apartment number on his quick dial.
After five rings, Sam answered the phone. “Hello?” she said, her voice thick with sleep.
“Sam,” Matt said, his voice filled with the urgency of the situation.
“Matt?” Sam asked, “What time is it?”
“Sam, darling, I don’t have time to explain. I want you and TJ to pack up enough clothes for a few days and be ready for Shooter and I to pick you up. We’ll be there in fifteen or twenty minutes.”
“What’s going on, Matt?” Sam asked, her voice suddenly sounding awake and more than a little alarmed.
“We’ll tell you when we get there. Now please, sweetheart, get moving!”
He punched the disconnect button so she couldn’t ask any more questions and he concentrated on his driving, trying to keep up with Shooter who was barreling down Fannin Street at almost eighty miles an hour.
Less than fifteen minutes later, Shooter slid to a stop in front of the girls’ apartment complex. He jumped out of the car and walked rapidly over to the police patrol car sitting in front of the building, getting there just as Matt arrived.
Shooter leaned in the driver’s side window. “Hey guys, how’s it goin’?” he asked, glancing over his shoulder at the surrounding shadows as he spoke.
Officer David Giles, the driver, gave a half-grin as he answered, “Nothing much going on here, Shooter. We’ve been taking turns walking around the place every five or ten minutes and we haven’t seen anybody yet.”
Shooter reached in the window and shook Giles’s hand. “Well, thanks again, man. I owe you one,” he said.
“No problem, Shooter. Glad to be of help,” Giles said and he started up the car and pulled slowly down the street.
As Matt jumped out of his car, he noticed Shooter had his service revolver out of his holster as he moved toward the girls’ front door and was holding it down by his right thigh, ready for action should Morpheus jump out of the shadows.
For all the good a gun will do him, Matt thought, knowing that bullets were a small protection against one of the Vampyri.
Sam opened the door, still wearing her nightgown, her eyes widening a bit at the sight of Shooter holding his pistol at his side.
S
he stepped to the side without speaking and the men entered. Matt immediately shut and double-bolted the door behind them.
TJ walked out of her bedroom, wearing only a long T-shirt. Matt figured it was one of Shooter’s since it had the initials HPD on the front of it. He quickly averted his eyes from the sight of her braless breasts through the thin material.
Sam put her hands on her hips and cocked her head in the way that Matt knew meant she wasn’t budging until they told her what was going on.
“Now, will you two please explain just what is happening?” she asked, her green eyes flashing. “You’re scaring me.”
Shooter looked at Matt and put his pistol in its holster under his jacket, clearly expecting him to explain the situation.
“Okay, here’s the short version,” Matt said. “I got a call a few days ago from someone I’m sure was Michael Morpheus.”
He held up his hand when both Sam and TJ started to object. “I know, we thought he was dead, but believe me, it was him.”
“What did he say?” Sam asked, her eyes clouding with fear at the thought of the monster who had abducted and assaulted her.
“He let me know he was plenty pissed off at all of us and that he was going to pay us a visit,” Matt said.
“Why didn’t you tell us?” TJ asked, her eyes flashing with anger and moving to Shooter.
“It’s a long story,” Matt said. “But tonight, a girl was abducted and raped, and the description she gave of the man who did it fits Morpheus.”
“She survived?” Sam asked, astounded that anyone could manage that when one of the vampyres decided to feed on them.
“Yeah,” Shooter said with an ironic smirk. “She had some pepper spray in her purse and sprayed it in his eyes and mouth. While he was reacting to that, she jumped out of his car and ran down the road and happened to chance upon a couple of patrolmen who were in the area. Morpheus killed one of them, but he took four or five slugs in the chest and it didn’t even slow him down.”
“Pepper spray?” Sam said, nodding her head slowly. “That would certainly cause him some problems.” She glanced at TJ, whose eyes showed she too understood.
“The Vampyri have super-acute senses of smell and taste, so the spray would have a much greater effect on them than on humans,” TJ explained.
“Now,” Shooter said with some exasperation, “would you two please get some clothes on and let’s get out of here. If Morpheus is here in Houston, he probably knows where we all live.”
“Shooter and I suspect that as soon as he’s completely recovered from the gunshot wounds, he plans to come after us,” Matt added.
Sam looked at TJ. “Let’s get packed, TJ.” She cut her eyes back at Matt and there was little warmth in them. “We’ll have time to talk later about why these guys didn’t tell us about Morpheus’s phone call.”
Matt knew from the tone of her voice he was going to have to do some fast-talking to get back in her good graces. Sam was both very intelligent and very independent and he was going to have to come up with a good reason why he hadn’t told her of Morpheus’s call.
He followed her into her bedroom and got there just as she shrugged out of her nightgown. The sight of her naked body almost made him forget his fears of Morpheus.
He moved quickly to her side, put his hands on her shoulders and turned her around, bringing her naked body tight against him. “Darling, I love you,” he said, testing the waters.
She leaned her head back and shook her head, her lips tight. “I love you, too, Matt, but you’re still going to have to tell me why you didn’t inform me about Morpheus still being alive.”
Suddenly, feeling the bulge in his groin that her nakedness had caused, she looked down and then back up at his face, which was now blushing furiously. “And don’t think that thing down there is going to get you out of trouble this time,” she said, a hint of amusement in her voice.
He forced himself to let her go and he turned his back. “You’d better get dressed so we can get out of here,” he said, his voice husky with desire.
Without looking, he heard her rummaging in her closet.
“Where are we going?” she asked from behind him.
“Shooter and I thought we’d check into a hotel, using assumed names. That should give us some time to decide just how to handle this,” he answered.
She suddenly appeared next to him, dressed in jeans, blouse, and sneakers and carrying a small suitcase. “And just how are we going to check into a hotel without giving our names? They require credit cards, you know.”
“Shooter’s going to flash his badge and tell them it’s police business—witness protection or something like that,” Matt answered.
She moved into the living room and found TJ and Shooter waiting for them. “Okay, let’s get moving,” she said.
Shooter took his pistol out. “I’ll go first,” he said. “When I give the all clear, the rest of you follow and go directly to the cars. Matt, you drive the girls in my car and I’ll follow in yours. I want to make sure no one is following us.”
“Okay,” Matt said, exchanging keys with Shooter. “Which hotel do you want to go to?”
Shooter thought for a moment and then he snapped his fingers. “How about the Westin Galleria? It’s relatively close to the medical center and since it’s attached to the Galleria shopping center, it’s always busy. The more people there are around us the less chance of a sneak attack by Morpheus.”
“Good idea,” Matt said.
Shooter went out the door, his pistol held loosely at his side and his eyes flicking back and forth, not missing a thing. When he got to the curb he turned and signaled Matt to follow with Sam and TJ.
As they moved quickly down the sidewalk toward the cars, Matt felt the hair on the back of his neck stir. It irritated him that this was all happening again. When they’d killed most of the members of the vampyre group in New Orleans last year and scattered the rest, he’d thought this kind of nightmare was over for him and his friends. And later, when both Sam and TJ seemed to respond so well to the medications that would eradicate the vampyre bug from their systems, he’d dared to hope they would all be able to return to leading some sort of normal life again.
Now we’re running through the night and hiding from some monster that wants to make Sam his mate and suck the life’s blood out of the rest of us, he thought. Not exactly a normal life by any stretch of the imagination. As he hurried the girls down the sidewalk, Matt’s neck burned and itched with the feeling that someone was watching them from the shadows. He looked on both sides, but couldn’t see anything out of the ordinary. This is no time to get paranoid, he told himself, managing a small chuckle. Who needs paranoia when the truth is bad enough?
When Matt and the women were loaded into his car, Shooter jumped into Matt’s Miata, placed the pistol on the seat next to him, and followed them down the street toward the Galleria, still keeping a close watch in the rearview mirror to make sure no one was following.
Still caught up in the logistics of getting them all to a safe haven, Shooter hadn’t had time to think of what they’d do next, or how long they were going to have to remain in hiding. There’d be time for that later, when they were sure they were out of the reach of the monster Morpheus.
Seven
While Matt and Shooter were getting the girls checked into the hotel, Michael Morpheus was having his own problems. After running off into the night to escape the cops, he found himself naked and shivering with the shock of several bullet wounds to his chest and abdomen.
Even though the vampyre body can easily repair such damage, given time, the initial shock and pain of injury is the same for them as for Normals. Morpheus was hurting, and hurting badly.
He’d managed to run far back into the densely wooded part of Hermann Park and burrowed into some heavy brush to give his vampyre body time to begin to heal. Even though the particular makeup of his blood usually allowed almost miraculous healing properties, Morpheus was at a severe disadvan
tage. He hadn’t fed for some time and he’d lost almost a third of his blood volume from the gunshot wounds. He was in severe pain and wouldn’t be able to find another victim to replenish his strength until the cops finished their search of the park and went on their way.
He gritted his teeth against the burning agony of his wounds and hunkered down in the heavy cover, waiting for the police to give up the search and leave the area. To take his mind off his pain, he let his thoughts center on the vengeance he would take against those who’d caused him to be here—Sam and her friends. The thought of the wholesale bloodletting he had planned for her friends, and of the things he would do to his mate’s body to make her atone for betraying him, almost made him forget the agony in his chest.
Finally, some time after midnight, the last of the flashing red and blue lights were gone from the park. Unfortunately, the police had run off the many parkers and lovers who’d been in the park and Morpheus, when he crawled out of the brush, found the park deserted.
He was still weak and very shaky from loss of blood, though his body had healed the wounds enough to stop any further bleeding. Now, all he needed was a new prey and some fresh blood. He began to walk toward the bright streetlights of Fannin Street, hoping somehow to find someone to feed upon. His body had reverted back to its human form, but he was still naked and covered with dried blood and pink puckered skin where the policeman’s bullets had torn him open.
When he got to the park’s entrance off Fannin, he stayed well back out of the light and squatted next to a park bench, waiting and hoping that someone would enter the park, even though it was by now well past midnight.
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