Lucifer (Vampires in America: The Vampire Wars Book 11)

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Lucifer (Vampires in America: The Vampire Wars Book 11) Page 24

by D. B. Reynolds


  “Maybe I should shower in my room,” she said breathily. “My clothes are there, and—”

  “Good idea,” he said, but his eyes were hot, his power limning the hazel with a gleam of old gold. He set her aside and climbed from the bed, his cock standing straight out in enticing invitation. “Eleanor.”

  She lifted her gaze from his erection to his grinning face.

  “You can have this later,” he said, gripping himself in one hand and stroking up and down.

  Her eyes narrowed. “Remember what you said, Lucifer. Payback’s a bitch.” She stood up and stormed from the room, wishing she wasn’t naked, but going with what she had. At least this way, she wouldn’t be the only one getting an eyeful of what she couldn’t have.

  “Ten minutes,” Lucifer called as she opened the bedroom door. “Make it quick, bella.”

  She snapped off a salute, and waited until she was out of his sight before breaking into a run. Ten minutes? He was insane. She couldn’t even wash her hair in ten minutes, much less anything else. She’d have to leave it dirty and confine it in a tight braid, as she always did before going into a fight. Because even if the gods smiled on them, and they had no one to contend with in the tunnels but a few guards, she needed to be ready to fight. And if the worst happened, and Lucifer had to challenge Kasimir, then she’d be ready to help him with that, too.

  “I REALLY HATE TUNNELS.”

  Lucifer glanced at Eleanor and grinned. They were creeping down the public tunnel beneath the university, heading for the utility closet with its concealed door. They had Andy’s map, but Lucifer didn’t need it. He remembered exactly how to get into the secret tunnel, and how to get back out again, too. That was the important part—getting safely out at the end. And tonight, with a little bit of luck, they’d be taking Colin Murphy out with them, which would make it more important than ever that they make a fast exit.

  “Tunnels aren’t so bad,” he offered. “Especially these. They don’t really go anywhere, just up and back. It’s easy to figure out where you are.”

  “I still hate tunnels,” she grumbled. “No fresh air.”

  He had to agree with her on that. They could use some air circulation. During the normal course of the day, there would be a lot more foot traffic down here, with people opening and closing doors almost constantly. Maybe that brought in a regular flow of fresh air during those times. But right now, the air was stale and still.

  “It’ll be worse once we get beyond that closet door,” he warned her.

  “Yeah, but I figure we’ll be so busy fighting for our lives that it won’t matter by then.”

  He chuckled softly, then held a finger to his lips, cautioning her to be quiet as he pushed open the door to the closet. Vampires had greatly enhanced hearing, compared to humans, and despite the length of tunnel and a total of three solid doors between them and the vampire guards, a stray sound could easily give them away.

  Lucifer waited until Eleanor had walked past him into the closet, then quietly closed the door to the public tunnel, checking to be sure it was secure. Satisfied that they wouldn’t be interrupted, he moved over to the hidden exit behind the shelves, with its keypad lock.

  “Ready?” He sent the word to Eleanor telepathically, as a reminder that they had that link, and that she should use it.

  She touched his shoulder briefly, and nodded. “Be careful.”

  He winked back at her and punched in the door code.

  Once they were in the secret tunnel, with the closet door closed behind them, Lucifer pulled out a small flashlight with duct tape covering all but a very thin strip of lens. Vampires had remarkable sight, but even they couldn’t see in perfect darkness. He flicked on the flash, and then held up a hand for Eleanor to wait a moment, while he scanned down the tunnel, using both the dim light and his vampire powers. He was risking detection by doing it; Yamanaka was dead, but Kasimir wasn’t. He could easily be visiting Murphy in his cell tonight. But that was precisely why Lucifer had to scan ahead, and why it was worth taking a chance. He needed to know if his enemy was lurking behind door number two. He was fully prepared to fight Kasimir when the time came, but he’d prefer to have some warning as to when that time would be.

  It wouldn’t be tonight, however. There were four vampires and one human somewhere at the end of all this darkness. And none of the four vampires were powerful enough to be Kasimir.

  “Four guards and one human,” he ‘pathed to the waiting Eleanor. “Hopefully the human is Murphy,” he added.

  Eleanor gave him a thumb’s up, and then, as if they’d been working together for years, rather than days, they eased down the dark tunnel, their footsteps perfectly silent despite the gritty floor. They didn’t stop at the dead-end this time, but continued down the short hallway to the final turn, and kept walking until they were standing right outside the first, possibly guarded, door.

  Eleanor examined the door, looking for a lock, and not finding one. Andy had said this first door was unlocked and unguarded, but it had been some time since his lone visit to the place, and Lucifer wanted to be sure nothing had changed. He also scanned for a guard behind the door, but didn’t sense anyone in the immediate vicinity. In fact, all five of the life signs he’d picked up earlier—four vamps and one human—were remarkably stable. They all seemed to have picked a spot and stayed there. That made sense for Murphy, since Lucifer was sure the human was bound. But he would have expected the guards to maintain a shifting routine to avoid getting stale. It seemed instead that they had pulled back into the main section of their makeshift prison. Pulled back and kicked back by all signs of it. Maybe because they weren’t expecting any visitors—something that would make Lucifer’s job much easier, if it were true.

  There was no handle on this side of the door, so Lucifer put one hand on it and pushed. It swung open smoothly on well-oiled, silent hinges. Once they were both inside, he started to close the door again, but decided against it. If they happened to be running for their lives on the way out, especially if they were carrying a badly injured Murphy, the few seconds it took to get the door open could make a huge difference. So he left it open, and they forged ahead.

  The tunnel went straight for another twenty or so feet, and to a casual observer, that was the end of the tunnel system. But Lucifer had studied the map, and knew there was more. He led Eleanor through a darkness so deep that his shielded flashlight couldn’t penetrate it, but his hands worked better than his eyes this time. Running his hand along the left wall, he located the extremely narrow passage that was the next leg of their journey. It went on for no more than five feet, which was a good thing, because it was barely wide enough for Lucifer’s shoulders. He’d never been claustrophobic, but he abruptly understood what it must be like to suffer from that malady. When the passage made another right turn and opened onto a new, wider tunnel, he breathed a discreet sigh of relief.

  The narrow passage had been harrowing, but it was nothing more than he’d expected. So far, everything was exactly as Andy’s map had indicated. Lucifer flashed his light down the wider tunnel, and saw the second security door. This one, too, was unguarded. It should have been good news, but he frowned.

  “No one there. Maybe they’re on break,” he ‘pathed to Eleanor, smiling, though she probably couldn’t see it.

  Eleanor let her amusement filter through their telepathic link, and he caught the slight gleam of her smiling eyes.

  “This will be their main section,” he reminded her, deadly serious once more. Beyond this point they’d have to fight, and probably kill, whatever guards they met, in order to rescue Colin Murphy. He hated dragging her into this dangerous situation, but this was what she did. She was a warrior, and she belonged here just as much as he did. Maybe more. This was her lady’s territory, after all.

  She nodded solemnly.

  He pushed on the door. It opene
d as easily and silently as the last one, but what waited for them on the other side was quite different.

  Two guards stood just beyond the door, looking more like friends having a chat than vampires guarding a valuable prisoner. They spun when the door opened, their eyes going wide at the sight of Lucifer striding into their dungeon, his power revealing itself in a gold light that dripped from the walls and lit the dull, concrete floor. The two guards backed up a few steps, eyes flaring red as they reached for their blades, knowing instinctively that only hard steel was going to help them. They attacked as one, coming at him from both sides, blades cutting high and low, trying to overwhelm him before he could bring his power to bear.

  Lucifer snapped out a blade of pure energy, cutting it from side to side, parrying every thrust. He could have taken them both out with raw power, could have knocked them both unconscious with a single blow. But he was reluctant to waste his power, not knowing what or who else he might be forced to deal with before the night was over.

  Besides, he had a secret weapon that neither of the two vampires had noticed. Until Eleanor stepped out from behind him, and ran the lead guard through with her blade, stabbing him first in his stomach, and then pulling out her blade and running him through his heart when he bent over to clutch at his spilling entrails.

  The other vamp stared at his buddy’s gruesome death and shouted a warning, a call for help, as he backed farther down the hall, nearing another bend in the corridor. Two more guards raced into sight, and Lucifer stepped out to meet them, trusting Eleanor to watch his back.

  These new guards were bigger than the first pair, with bright, red eyes that betrayed their minimal vampire power. They were exceedingly well trained, working together like a fine-tuned machine, their movements so coordinated that it was like facing a single, deadly opponent. Lucifer was an excellent fighter, but these two were formidable, and he was outnumbered. He could hear Eleanor at his back, cursing above the slap of flesh and the clash of blades.

  A slash of unexpected pain forced his attention back to his own fight, blood dripping from his arm briefly before he used a small dash of his power to seal the wound. He snarled as anger replaced the cold determination he’d begun this fight with. His blood was far too valuable to be spilled on a filthy dungeon floor.

  “Fuck this,” he hissed, and let his power flow. It raced down his arm and out through his fingers, forming a golden blade of pure energy.

  His opponents’ faces betrayed their shock. They hadn’t thought to measure his power when he’d shown up in their tunnel, and now it was too late.

  Lucifer felt the sudden rush of energy that told him Eleanor had dispatched her opponent. But he couldn’t turn to look, he was too busy avoiding a thrust by the vampire on his left, who’d thought to take advantage of what he’d assumed was Lucifer’s distraction. Lucifer plunged the golden blade of his power into the vampire’s heart, and reduced it to charred bits of flesh a moment before the vampire died in an explosion of dust.

  Lucifer grimaced, baring his fangs as he twisted back to deal with the final guard. He was done with this fucking battle. It was time to grab Murphy and get the hell out of there before someone stronger showed up to try and stop them. Someone like Kasimir.

  He whirled toward the last guard, golden blade shining, but Eleanor was there before him. Her bo staff was a blur of movement as she drove the guard back, jabbing him in the gut to bring him down to her level, and then snapping the staff up and striking him in the jaw, before slamming him against the wall. She could have used her blade then, could have run him through the heart and been done with it, but her teeth were bared in a grin, a low growl of pleasure humming from her throat as she spun into the air and launched a brutal sidekick.

  Lucifer stood back and watched in admiration. They didn’t have time for this. They didn’t know if the guards had gotten off a distress call, or what other enemies might be on their way right now. But this brutal fighter was his Eleanor, and that realization had the power to stop cold every other thought in his head. She still looked like his pink and cream princess from New Orleans, but no one from back then would have recognized her in this fierce fighter who took such pleasure in the violence of battle.

  No one but him. He’d know Eleanor anywhere. She could never hide from him. His heart sang like a tuning fork whenever she was near. He grinned as his pink princess brought the guard’s head down to her knee and knocked him out cold.

  “Finish it, bella. We have to get Murphy out of here.”

  She glanced over at him, and then without looking thrust her blade backward directly into the guard’s heart. He died in a cloud of dust, while Eleanor gave Lucifer a wink and a smug smile.

  Lucifer took her hand and kissed it. “This all seemed a little too easy. I don’t like it.”

  She shrugged. “Maybe Yamanaka was supposed to be here tonight. You said no one would know he was dead.”

  “Maybe.” He turned to study the door at the end of the hallway. It had a small barred window, and was secured by a thick slide bolt that looked like it weighed as much as the entire door.

  Lucifer paused long enough to scan into the room behind that door. “One human,” he murmured to Eleanor. But this set-up still didn’t feel right. If someone had enough power, he could shield himself from detection, even from Lucifer. And, damn it, this had all seemed too easy.

  “You worry too much,” Eleanor said, and stepped in front of him to slide the bolt back.

  Lucifer bit back a protest, but readied his power against the possibility of a booby trap on the bolt mechanism. When nothing happened, he breathed a cautious sigh of relief. But he still couldn’t shake the sense that something was wrong.

  Reaching out, he stopped Eleanor when she would have rushed into the room. Whatever trap their enemy might have waiting for them, he could deal with it better than Elle. She was a wicked fighter, and deadly in battle, but he was a power. It would take a hell of a lot to knock him out of the fight.

  Lucifer stepped into the cell. Because that’s what it was, no question about it. The walls were rough concrete that looked as if it had been slapped over raw dirt. The air smelled of blood and sweat, and other things that were meant to humiliate the prisoner and remind him of his helplessness. A primitive metal table was shoved to one side, and behind it . . .

  “Colin Murphy, I presume,” Lucifer said quietly, grinding his jaw against the rage that wanted to rise up and destroy this fucking cell, to bring down the roof so it could never be used again.

  “Who the fuck are you?” Murphy demanded. His voice was scraped raw by the weeks in captivity, and he looked awful, like he’d lost a lot of weight in a very short time. His cheeks were hollowed, and the torn remains of clothing hung on his powerful frame. Dried blood streaked his face and neck, and his knuckles were torn to the bone. His ankles were shackled to each other, and the thick chain was bolted to the floor, giving him just enough room to utilize the primitive sanitary facilities that lent such a lovely bouquet to the air of the room.

  Murphy’s wrists were shackled as well, but despite all of that, the man stood there defiantly, his jaw clenched with determination, his gaze full of fire as he twisted the chains around his fingers, ready to fight to the death, rather than surrender.

  “My name is—”

  “Colin!” Eleanor shoved past him and around the table, throwing herself into the human’s arms and wrapping herself around his waist.

  “Eleanor?” Murphy whispered in disbelief. His head dropped down to touch hers, and for the first time since they’d stormed the room, he began to shake. “What’re you doing here, babe?”

  Lucifer could hear the tears in Murphy’s voice, could sense the psychological toll that captivity had taken on the man, a toll he’d covered up before he’d known who they were. It was an emotional moment, a moment of life and death for Murphy. And yet . . . Lu
cifer eyed his Eleanor in the man’s arms and wanted to rip those arms from their bloody sockets.

  “Eleanor,” he growled, and then warned her via telepath. “Bella, you gotta get the fuck away from him before I shred him.”

  She stiffened in surprise, then turned to give him a narrow-eyed glare. “He’s a friend, Luc. A friend who’s been through hell.”

  “And I’m a possessive fucking vampire with an aggression problem.”

  She raised her eyes to heaven, as if seeking something there, but straightened out of Murphy’s embrace, careful to do it slowly, while keeping one arm around his back for support. “Sit down, Colin,” she said. “Let me get rid of these fucking chains, and we’ll get you out of here.”

  Murphy sat, but his attention was all for Lucifer, whom he eyed with suspicion. “Who’s that?” he muttered half under his breath, but Lucifer could hear him.

  “Lucifer,” Eleanor said, identifying him absently as she worked on the locked chains. “He’s one of Aden’s people, on loan to Sophia to help find you. He’s good at this stuff.”

  Murphy grunted, then shifted his gaze to Eleanor’s bent head. “Where’s Sophia? Is she all right? They kept feeding me someone else’s blood, and I couldn’t feel her anymore.”

  “She’s fine, and once we get up to street level, you’ll feel better, too. Damn it,” she cursed, yanking at the chains.

  “Move,” Lucifer ordered, still not happy with Eleanor’s proximity to a male for whom she clearly had feelings.

  Her head came up at his sharp tone, but she understood his plan. She took a step to one side and braced Murphy a moment before Lucifer hit the shackles on the man’s wrists with a sharp burst of power that fried the lock and snapped the heavy bracelets open.

  Murphy sucked in a long breath and exhaled. And then did it again, filling his lungs with oxygen, despite the stench in the room, as if the manacles on his wrists had somehow kept him from breathing properly. Beneath the bracelets, his wrists were rubbed raw, with new abrasions on top of the old, and a glint of bone or tendon showing through.

 

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