by Hughes, Mary
“In a moment. If you do as I ask.”
My ears began to ring. “What do you want?”
“I have recently acquired a new…associate.”
“Congratulations.” I spat it.
“He’ll be a great asset to my organization. But before he’ll fully commit, he has a requirement. As a, well, shall we call it a signing bonus? As his signing bonus, he wants—you.”
My heart began to pound in my ears, wool-wrapped thuds over the ringing. “Me.” It was no more than I’d decided to do myself, but somehow hearing it in that dead rasp intensified the devouring horror. “What do you want?”
“Come meet him, my dear, get to know him. You’ll like him.”
“We’ve met,” I managed. “I wasn’t that impressed.”
“I was afraid you might feel that way. Which is why I engaged your artistic mother. She’s here with us. Oh, she’s fine, and she’ll stay that way—as long as you cooperate.”
I clenched my eyes.
“Come alone. Contact no one. I have spies in place, and I’ll know instantly if you deviate from my instructions. Do you understand?”
I forced myself to answer. “Yes.”
“Good. This is the address. Memorize it. Do not write it down. 2271 East Crescent.” He hung up.
I cradled the phone, dying inside.
This was it. Somehow I thought I’d have more time, to say goodbye, to put my affairs in order…but Nosferatu’s spies were watching. I couldn’t even write a farewell note.
A new horror struck me. What if I wasn’t able to free Mom before the mating? From what Elias had said, I’d have to devote every particle of my being to remaining sane, to concentrate on getting Gravloth into the sun.
Which would leave Mom alone with Nosferatu.
I had to leave a message.
But how? It had to be unreadable by Nosferatu’s spies. If only I knew a code, or a foreign language… Wait. I knew a language so foreign, it didn’t even use letters.
The address was in Chicago. Musical notes went from A to G—I could use them for the letters C, A and G. I grimaced. No one would get Chicago from CCAG.
Except in German musical nomenclature, B natural was H. With H, I could spell Chcag. I found a piece of paper and slashed a double staff onto it, then penciled the notes adding a natural sign to the B.
Now, how to code the address number? I’d have used first line 1, first space 2, and so on, except I was already using staff positions as letters.
Numbers, numbers…I snapped my fingers. The seven notes repeat themselves in higher and higher forms called octaves. One convention numbers the octaves. I penciled in C2, C2, C7, C1. A bar line, an E for east and…fuck. How did I do Crescent? CECE didn’t look anything like a Crescent.
Wait. Crescent, abbreviated, could be Cresc—like the musical word crescendo, which meant to get louder. The symbol was two lines opening up. I drew a < under the bar and inspected my message.
Not obvious. Nosferatu’s spies certainly wouldn’t figure it out. I could only hope Dragan was savvier.
If he even came back.
No, I couldn’t worry about that now. I had to find my mother and hopefully rescue her from a bunch of vampires before sacrificing myself on the monster mating altar.
I set down the paper and turned toward the door. Once I stepped through, I probably wouldn’t survive the next twenty-four hours.
For Mom’s life and that of my friends, worth it.
Still, I took a few seconds to gather my worldly possessions into a backpack to take with me. My purse. My flute. I swallowed as I gazed one last time around my home. I wished I could pack it all.
Slinging the backpack over my shoulder I spun for the door. Eyes followed me. My own eyes burned with tears. Mom’s kitchy art, appreciated by no one but me and, unaccountably, Dragan.
In case neither of us made it out alive, I grabbed a tiny dwarf, the last memento of my mother I might ever have, and stashed it in my backpack.
Then I flung open the door. Time to finish this.
The address was an empty store in an abandoned strip mall. I peered inside. Sunshine slanted through big plate glass front windows onto bare clothes racks and nude mannequins, the stripped corpse of a clothes store.
The front door was unlocked. I slid just inside, keeping to the pool of sunlight. Some of it was for courage, to combat the acid fear eating away the strength in my muscles. But some of it was calculation. I was dealing with vampires. While Dragan had struck out into the daylight, hopefully the sun would at least slow these guys down.
The middle of the store was shadowed. It took my eyes a moment to adjust, but my ears were wide open.
“Enough is enough.” The alto was Camille’s. “I should be first lieutenant—”
“She’s here.” That murky growl was Gravloth’s.
The crash of cymbal-sized boots neared. I cringed… They stopped. “Go get her for me.”
“Get her yourself.” That was Nosferatu’s dead rasp.
“She’s in the sun,” Gravloth said. “I just combed my hair.”
I blinked at that. The monster wanted to look nice for me?
“Master,” Camille said. “I should be first lieutenant. Let me show you what you’d be missing.”
“Because that worked so well last time.” That was Giuseppe’s sarcastic drawl. “Oh, put your breasts away, Camille. We’ve all seen them before.”
The one voice I wanted to hear, my mother’s, was missing. Guts twisting, I scanned for her as my eyes adjusted. The store was bare, but its skeleton was still evident in the metal hanger bars jutting like bones from the walls.
Four forms skulked in the shadows. The big hulk was Gravloth, the hourglass shape jerkily retying her halter strings was Camille. If the taller man was Giuseppe, the short, slender man must be Nosferatu. I’d seen pictures at CIC but he looked different in person. Smaller.
But where was my mother? My stomach fell into a bottomless pit. How could I rescue her if I couldn’t even find her?
I shoved my hair back with both hands, as if that would help me see better. Without knowing where she was, I was unsure what to do.
“You’re no fucking help.” Camille spun toward Giuseppe, her expression so angry I could see it clearly despite the shadows. “Why do I fuck you if you won’t support me?”
Yikes.
He touched her cheek with mock tenderness. He was wearing another disguise, a black wig, blue contacts and some sort of face putty that made him look like Julian, except Julian would never have worn that smug, scornful smile. “Because you love me, darling.” His drawled “dahling” was a taunt of hers.
“Bring me my mate.” A cymbal crashed—Gravloth stamping his foot. “Now.”
“Maybe you can be useful, Camille,” Nosferatu said. “Maybe you could be his mate. Then I wouldn’t have to pacify a human. Go on, try to interest him. Prove your worth to me.”
Her long-nailed hands clenched. “All right, I will.”
She misted, her clothes dropping to the floor, and reformed nude. She was as perfect as an airbrushed photo, or a marble statue, smooth golden skin, high round breasts, tiny waist and two gold hoops, the first drawing the eye to her dimple of a navel and the second farther down to her naked coral labia.
She tossed her mane of black hair. “I wasn’t trying before. Now I am.” She launched herself at Gravloth. Her long thighs wrapped around his tree trunk waist. Her nails lengthened and thickened into claws which she dug into his shoulders—as she seized his mouth in the wettest, tonguiest kiss I’d ever seen.
Part of me was happy at the reprieve. But part was screaming to get in there and mate him before she screwed my chance to save my friends. I could only hope my mother was somewhere she could run in the confusion. I took a step forward.
“Yuck.” Gravloth peeled Camille off him and threw her bodily away.
She flew backward into one of the jutting bars. It impaled her with a sick shuck.
There was a mome
nt of profound silence. I stopped short, staring in horror. The bar protruded from just below her breastbone. She hung like a puppet. Bloody bubbles popped in her mouth.
Then Giuseppe laughed. “That was the lamest seduction ever.”
“Help me.” She started wriggling on the bar. She was alive.
“Do something,” I yelled at them. “Get her down from there!”
“Says the next victim.” Giuseppe laughed harder.
“Master, please.” Tears glistened in Camille’s green eyes. “I worked so hard for you for so long. Promote me, as you promised.”
Nosferatu looked away.
And the Soul Stealer? He was busy checking himself out in the mirrored shine of one metal-clad post, slicking his hair back with a palm.
“Oh, for heaven’s sake.” I stomped to where she was pinned, grabbed her by the hips and pulled.
“Where did I go wrong?” She slid off the bar with a nauseating glissando of meat and blood, and dropped onto her feet, wavering. “Why won’t they help me?” Her yearning eyes were on the male vampires, her chest hole closing even as she spoke.
“Camille, some people are worth it. And some—” I pointed at Nosferatu and Giuseppe, “—are not. Why are you trying to please those dickheads? Live your own life.”
Her gaze jumped to me, surprised. She opened her mouth to say something.
“Mine.”
I spun.
Gravloth, arms extended, rushed toward me.
My stomach flipped. My legs burned with the need to run away.
But I’d come here for this. Besides, I’d never escape in time.
I stood there as the monster bore down on me. My life might be forfeit, and I might not be able to rescue my mother, but for my friends’ sake I had to be strong.
I closed my eyes and clenched my fists and prepared to be swallowed whole.
Chapter Twenty-Two
Dragan stared at the stemless notes and felt more helpless than he’d ever felt in his life, even when the vampire attacked his family and all he could do was die.
The lines blurred and tinged red. He squeezed his lids shut and heard the ping of a tear drop hit the paper. He opened his eyes, horrified to see the tiny flat in the key signature smeared with red…he sucked in a breath. The notes weren’t C-B-C-A-G, they were C-H-C-A-G, like Chicago.
With that key he decrypted Raquel’s musical message.
Life came back to him. He called Logan Steel. Logan and his twin came immediately in the limo, driven by Miyagi. Dragan wasn’t sure if Miyagi was in on the vampire secret or would need to be wiped later. But it didn’t matter now. They formulated a plan and sent Bo to pick up one essential Meiers Corners vampire and prepare their ambush while he and the Steels sped to the address.
Dragan dashed from the Alliance limo straight into the shadows of the alley behind the dilapidated strip mall. He pressed an ear to the concrete block, listening with his whole being. Six hearts beat, two human and four vampire. The vampires were in the middle of the store. One human was in the front of the store, and one in the rear, less than a meter from where he crouched.
He shut his eyes and accessed his blood memory, the smell/taste of every human he’d ever drunk from. The bright burning essence that was Raquel was in front. The human in back…the familial flavor was clear. Raquel’s mother. It confirmed his theory that Raquel had come here to rescue her. Which meant he had to rescue her first, or Raquel would never leave.
He located a window in the deepest shadows and misted through, snapping back in a dusty storeroom.
Mrs. Hrbek looked up and smiled. She opened her mouth.
He put a finger to his lips. She nodded.
As he led her toward the back door, he kept his ears open. In the store proper, Camille was begging Nosferatu to make her first lieutenant. Raquel’s heartbeat was rapid, frightened. Need rushed his veins to go to her, to pull her out of there, to run away with her and never let her go again.
But she’d come to rescue her mother—and he wanted, quite desperately, to please her. So rescuing her mother came first.
Things were heating up between Camille and the others. The hurled accusations covered the back door’s click as Dragan opened it and hustled Trudi out. The Alliance limo had moved to the end of the alley, according to plan.
Chafing, Dragan chivvied Trudi to the limo and shoveled her in. The instant she was safe he sped back to the abandoned store, barely tamping down the need to mist directly to Raquel’s side. As it was, he misted the instant he was within range of the window. He didn’t get deep enough in the shadows first and burned his edges.
He snapped solid inside the storeroom, his skin charred, but he’d heal. He breathed through the pain and glided to the doorway of the store proper, to map his next move.
Raquel was mid-store, her back to him, talking to Camille. “Some people are worth it. And some are not.” She pointed at Nosferatu and Giuseppe.
How brave she looked, how noble. His heart swelled with pride, and he wished fiercely to be one of the worthy ones.
“Mine.”
Dragan’s eyes cut right. The monster Gravloth was grabbing for Dragan’s mate.
Dragan blew apart and shot to her. He snapped back barely in time to snatch her from the monster’s claws.
Gravloth raked empty air. Dragan lifted Raquel by the waist and whisked her back the way he’d come. Through the storeroom, out the back door.
The monster’s roar erupted after them. Dragan dashed for the end of the alley as the fire door crashed open.
The limo’s spot was empty.
He hoisted Raquel in both arms—her eyes were wide and he could tell she’d barely processed the monster grabbing for her much less the fact that she was rescued—and glided as fast as he could go and still remain in what shadows there were. He knew where the limo was but he had two miles to cover and didn’t want to lose his strength to the sun this early.
Bam bam. Gravloth pounded the pavement in pursuit. The monster had extraordinarily large feet. Dragan’s heart beat faster.
“My mother?” Raquel twined arms around his neck. She must have finally caught up with what had happened. Though he couldn’t afford to take his attention from his feet he glanced at her, he couldn’t help it…she was gazing at him with sorrow and relief but above all love and he wanted to kiss her and bed her and never stop. Gravloth roared. Hot, fetid air blasted Dragan’s neck.
Sex later. Run now. “Trudi is safe.” Dragan put on a burst of speed.
Gravloth had the power of an ancient, but not the experience. Dragan’s abrupt acceleration caught him by surprise.
He left the monster’s stink behind.
The cymbal crash of feet became a cymbal roll. Dragan’s maneuver had bought him, not so much a window of opportunity, as an eye blink. He clutched Raquel harder to him. He needed to make the most of it, for both their sakes.
As he churned legs into the second mile, the sun burned his skin and eyes, his stamina burning away too. Worse, heat mixed unevenly through his body. At any moment he could burst into flames. Heart pounding, breath rattling, he forced all his strength into his legs and thrashed them like a blender.
A few seconds later a weedy lot came into blurry view. He didn’t have time to wipe the acid tears from his eyes. He could see another abandoned strip mall.
One door was open.
He dashed through it into cool dark. The stench of garlic struck him full in the face. But he was prepared for it and kept running, straight for the janitor’s closet in the back.
Seconds later Gravloth thundered into the store. Dragan was already locked inside the closet, Raquel tight in his arms.
An offended roar went up. Gravloth hadn’t been prepared for the garlic. It not only stank, but emitted fumes that were physically painful to vampires.
This wasn’t just a rescue mission; it was an ambush. While he’d saved Raquel and her mother, Strongwell and his lieutenant had prepared this place, installing a white noise generator,
webcam and monitor, and rubbing the entrance with fresh garlic, no doubt using heavy-duty gloves. The stench was to hide Dragan and Raquel’s scent, hopefully long enough for their ambush to work.
Dragan keyed on the monitor that was attached to a tiny eye aimed at the entrance and waiting for his opportunity.
There was Gravloth. The monster pinched his nose, casting around him for Raquel, hammer fist clenched in obvious frustration.
Right on schedule, a goddess of a female sauntered through the doorway.
Glossy black hair rippled from her widow’s peak to her tiny waist. In defiance of the cool October air, the hem of her flirty pink sundress rippled against her thighs. The dress showed off slim hips and exposed an unnaturally large, absurdly high bosom.
Dragan had never met Drusilla, Meiers Corners’s only full-time hooker. But if even half the stories about this young vampire were true, if anyone could seduce Gravloth into revealing a secret weakness, she could.
Gravloth spun and growled.
Drusilla only smiled and licked glossy red lips.
The monster paused. His battle mask softened while his fangs grew.
Her miles-long lashes batted coyly. “Hello, big guy.” Her purr rippled like a lover’s stroking hands. She sauntered nearer the monster and walked fingers up his massive chest. “Like what you see?”
He nodded.
While the Soul Stealer was distracted, Dragan caught Raquel’s wide blue gaze and held a finger to his lips. When she nodded, he clasped her tightly to him, dashed silently out of the closet and escaped out the back of the store.
“What are you doing?” she whispered as soon as they were outside.
“Trying to give you an alternative to self-sacrifice.”
The limo waited for them. Dragan slid in with Raquel. Raquel’s mother was in the front seat with Miyagi. Raquel’s whole body relaxed at the sight of her. “Thank you,” she said. “You’ve bought me time to say goodbye.”
Logan and Luke Steel were also in the limo. “Hopefully,” Logan said, “we’ll buy you a little more than that.” He showed them a tablet computer.
Its screen displayed the scene inside. Gravloth had grabbed Drusilla and was feeling her up like meat.