“Yeah,” Henry said. “I rigged it so the indicator lights would light up when she armed and disarmed it, but the control panel is a dud and doesn’t actually activate anything.”
Asshole, Susan muttered mentally.
Stanislav’s lips twitched.
“You two go around back,” the leader ordered. “Paul, you’re with me.”
Footsteps clomped on the wraparound porch, heading for the back door.
Stanislav cursed silently. If all four had instead opted to pour through the front door, taking them out would’ve been fairly easy. No one could’ve come up behind him. All bullets would’ve been fired from the same direction. And bullets would be fired. His acute sense of smell picked up the scent of gun oil.
But their divide-and-conquer approach nullified that.
Ideally, he would simply slip outside and face them there to keep them from even entering the house. But the sun hadn’t sunk close enough to the horizon for the trees to the west to provide him with adequate shade. Stanislav was stronger, but full strength continued to elude him. And with his memory lacking, he wasn’t sure how quickly the sun would damage him and sap his strength.
Vampire.
He cursed as the word again floated through his mind. He wasn’t a vampire. He couldn’t be. As Susan had said, vampires weren’t real. They were fiction and folklore and… hell. He just didn’t want to be one. Vampires were monsters. If the oddities Susan knew about didn’t drive her away from him, surely that would.
A tall shadow appeared behind the frosted glass window in the front door.
At the same time, boots shuffled to a halt at the back door.
Stanislav eyed the entrance to the basement, located about halfway between the two. Henry and the others seemed convinced the package was in the basement. Why not let the four of them come to him and lure them farther away from Susan?
On silent feet, he dashed over to the basement doorway and ducked inside. Avoiding creaky boards was harder to do here, so he simply leapt from the top of the steps to the dirt floor, landing as nimbly as a cat.
Several loud thuds sounded above as one of the men applied either a boot or his shoulder to the front door. It flew open with a pop, then slammed into the wall.
Similar sounds erupted from the other door.
Stanislav eased back into the farthest part of the basement, letting darkness enshroud him. He had been down there often enough to know where the light would strike and where it wouldn’t once they flipped the switch.
His eyes on the doorway above, he tucked the 9mms into the back waist of his pants. This was Susan’s home, and he might end up killing these men. If possible, he wanted to do so without bloodying up the place and splattering the walls and floor with evidence that would implicate her if police came knocking.
“The basement’s over here,” Henry said above.
“Don’t you think we should make sure the place is empty first?” the first man drawled.
“Oh. Right.”
“Dumbass,” one of the other two muttered. “Go check upstairs.”
Well, hell. There goes plan A. Scowling, Stanislav strode forward. Guess I’ll have to settle for plan B.
What’s plan B? Susan asked.
Damn it. He’d slipped and forgotten to shield his thoughts. Don’t worry about it. Just get out of sight. Henry is on his way up.
Henry was actually stomping up the stairs like a petulant teenager who had just been grounded by his parents.
Stanislav shook his head. Sweeping a hand across Susan’s workbench, he knocked a few of her tools to the floor.
The stomping stopped.
Four heartbeats picked up as everything above went silent.
Then a floorboard creaked.
They’re heading for the basement, Susan told him mentally.
All of them? he thought.
I think so.
A moment later, slow thuds confirmed Henry was descending the stairs to rejoin his friends.
Stanislav melted back into the shadows once more.
A figure suddenly filled the doorway above, the silhouette of a man with his arms extended, his hands aiming a gun into the darkness.
“You see anything?” Henry whispered.
“No. Hit the lights.”
Henry’s hand appeared as he reached in, felt around the wall, then found and flipped the switch.
Dim yellow light spilled down from one bulb at the top of the stairs and a second at the bottom.
Stanislav breathed deeply, concentrating on keeping his fury under control so his eyes wouldn’t glow and give away his location.
“Paul,” the leader grunted.
Another man elbowed Henry out of the way and joined the leader on the landing. “I got your back, Ed.”
Stanislav studied the leader as the man cautiously descended the stairs, aiming his gun in front of him, then to the side as he examined the basement. Ed appeared to be in his late forties. His head was shaved but showed the shadow of a receding hairline. His skin was leathery from too many hours in the sun. His jaw thrust forward as he squinted and searched for the source of the sound he’d heard. His shoulders were broad and muscled. But he carried extra weight around his middle like a former athlete who had let himself go.
The beefy hands clutching the handgun were poised to pull the trigger as Ed planted his boots on the dirt floor at the base of the stairs. “This as bright as the light gets?” he asked softly.
Paul glanced at the light switch. “Yeah.”
“Charlie,” Ed muttered, “get your ass down here.”
A fourth man entered the basement and crept down the stairs.
“Henry,” Ed ordered, his beady eyes still searching for Stanislav, “check the place and make sure we’re alone.”
Henry hesitated. “What if the woman’s here?”
“Do whatever you want to her,” Ed said, “as long as you keep her from calling 911 while you’re doing it.”
Stanislav closed his eyes as a blast of fury whipped through him.
Keep your head, Susan advised mentally, and don’t worry about me. I can handle Henry. He won’t expect me to be armed.
Nevertheless, a low growl rumbled forth from Stanislav’s throat.
Ed and Charlie both jumped and swung their guns toward him.
A second later, Ed straightened. His shoulders relaxed as he lowered his aim. “Shit. It’s just the damned dog.”
Charlie squinted, trying to make out the beagle in the shadows. “She left her dog behind? Is it a mean one?”
Stanislav shot forward in a blur. Ed and Charlie sucked in sharp breaths, their eyes widening. Stanislav knocked their weapons from their hands before they could squeeze the triggers, then struck them both with his fist.
The two men sank to the floor, unconscious.
Up on the landing, Paul cried out. Panic seizing his features, he squeezed the trigger over and over again.
Stanislav dodged to the side and sprang up the steps. Pain shot through his shoulder as a bullet pierced it. But he didn’t slow. In a blink, Stanislav yanked the gun from Paul’s hand and slammed it against the man’s temple.
Paul collapsed to the floor as thuds sounded above.
Stanislav stepped over Paul into the doorway.
Henry raced up the stairs to the second floor.
When Stanislav started after him, a hand grabbed his ankle.
Swearing, he turned to deal with Paul.
Susan’s breath caught when gunshots pierced her ears. Her fingers tightened on the grip of her 9mm. The second one remained tucked in the back waist of her pants. Stan!
I’m okay, he responded instantly. But Henry is heading your way again.
Thuds reached her ears. Two sets. According to her telepathy, Stanislav produced several as he fought off a man he’d thought unconscious. The others heralded Henry’s flight up the stairs.
Shit. She aimed her 9mm at the doorway, holding it in her right hand and supporting it with her left as her
brother had taught her. She kept her index finger near—not on—the trigger, ready to squeeze it at a moment’s notice.
First the chest, then the head, she could almost hear Nick murmur in her ear.
No. Don’t kill him, she reminded herself. Stanislav needed answers.
Heavy footsteps hit the landing and accelerated into a dead run.
Backing up against the wall near the door, Susan lowered her aim.
Henry burst through the doorway.
Susan fired two shots.
Henry cried out as blood spurted from one of his thighs. His leg buckled. His weapon clattered to the floor. Stumbling forward, he fell to his hands and knees.
Susan’s breath quickened. Her heartbeat drummed in her ears. Keeping her weapon trained on the howling man, she glanced down long enough to locate his gun on the floor and kicked it aside.
Henry gripped his thigh and spun around. “You bitch!” His face mottling with fury, he lurched to his feet.
Susan tensed, preparing to fire again.
A large form shot past her in a blur. A breeze accompanied it, whipping her hair forward.
Henry yelped as he flew up and slammed into the far wall.
Susan gaped.
Stanislav pinned Henry high against the wall with one hand wrapped around his neck. Henry’s eyes bugged as he frantically tried to peel Stanislav’s fingers away from his throat. His worn boots dangled several feet above the floor.
How had Stanislav moved so quickly? Susan hadn’t even seen him and she had been staring right at Henry when Stanislav grabbed him.
She eyed the duo with astonishment.
Stanislav held Henry up with only one arm as if the man weighed no more than a cat. But he must weigh at least two hundred and fifty pounds. Henry was not a small man.
“Touch her and you die,” Stanislav growled, tightening his hold. A growing stain glistened on the back of his shirt where a hole frayed the fabric above one shoulder blade.
Had he been shot?
Susan took a step forward. “Are you okay?”
He glanced at her over his shoulder, his eyes blazing with amber light. “Did he hurt you?” he demanded in lieu of answering. She didn’t need his empathic gift to know he was furious over the possibility. Rage poured off him in waves.
“No.”
“Why the hell didn’t you kill him?”
“Because you need answers.”
He returned his attention to his captive. “Can you find any in his mind?”
Susan focused on Henry.
Henry’s panicked gaze clung to Stanislav. Shit! His eyes are fucking glowing! He really is a fucking vampire! Ed was right! He’s a fucking vampire! He’s gonna kill me! He’s gonna drink my fucking blood!
Frustration filled Susan as she struggled to navigate the man’s muddled mind. “It’s just more vampire bullshit. I can’t find anything helpful.”
Stanislav lifted Henry away from the wall, then slammed him back against it.
Henry whimpered and wet himself as pain and fear distorted his features.
“Who sent you?” Stanislav demanded. “Who do you work for?” He had to loosen his hold a bit to enable the man to speak.
“No one,” Henry blurted, drawing in a frantic breath.
“Bullshit. You intended to hand me over to someone in return for payment. Who?”
Henry shook his head. “I don’t know. Ed didn’t tell me his name.”
Stanislav addressed Susan over his shoulder. “Is he lying?”
She shook her head. “Not according to his thoughts. I don’t think Ed shared many of the details with him.”
Stanislav shifted his hold.
Henry’s eyes bugged as he fought for breath and continued to pry at Stanislav’s immovable fingers. His face reddened. His movements slowed. His eyelids lowered. Then he ceased moving.
Stanislav opened his hand.
Henry dropped to the floor, landing in a heap.
Susan stared down at the man, her heart in her throat.
Was he dead?
“Unconscious,” Stanislav said. Turning toward her, he closed the distance between them and swept her into his arms. “Are you sure you’re okay?” he asked, lifting her feet off the floor and burying his face in the crook of her neck.
Nodding, she wrapped her arms around him, the 9mm still clutched in one hand. “They shot you?” she asked as her body began to tremble.
“I’m okay,” he murmured. “It passed through without hitting any major arteries or organs.”
Tears welled in her eyes. “Let me see it.”
Lowering her feet to the floor, he shook his head. “No time. I need you to read the others’ minds and see what they know about me. Are they working alone? Will others follow? Anything you can find.”
“Okay,” she choked out.
Stanislav cupped her face in his big hands and bent his knees a little to put their eyes more on a level. “Are you sure you’re okay?” When she was unable to prevent a tear from spilling over her lashes, he swept it away with his thumb.
“I’ve never shot anyone before,” she whispered.
He pressed his lips to her forehead. “I know. And I’m sorry you had to do it. But it was self-defense, sweetheart.” He backed away, his amber eyes full of regret. “We need to get moving. Are you okay with that?”
She nodded.
He pressed another kiss to her forehead. “Come downstairs with me.” Grabbing Henry, he tossed him over his uninjured shoulder and left the room.
Susan followed on shaky legs. How could Stanislav move so smoothly and carry Henry as if he weighed nothing when he had a bullet hole in his shoulder? As far as she knew, he still wasn’t even at what he considered full strength.
Stanislav dumped Henry on the floor by the back door. “I’ll get the others.” He retrieved three unconscious men from the basement and dropped them beside Henry. “Can you find anything in their thoughts?”
Susan stared at the man with the shaved head. She braced herself for the ugliness she knew she would find, then drew in a deep breath and read his mind. Or at least she tried to. She frowned. “There’s nothing there.”
Stanislav scowled. “What do you mean? He’s the leader. He must know something.”
Susan shook her head. “Whatever he knew is gone. When I say there’s nothing there, I mean there’s actually nothing there. No memories or anything else.”
Stanislav stared down at the man. “You mean he’s like me?”
“No. You may not have memories, but you have thought. This guy doesn’t.”
Squatting beside him, Stanislav pressed his fingers to the man’s neck, then swore.
“What?”
Gripping the man’s chin, he tilted his head to one side. Blood trailed down from his ear. “I hit him too hard. He’ll die before you’re finished reading the others’ minds.” He rose. “Scratch that. He just drew his last breath.”
Susan swallowed. The man was dead? They had killed him?
“No.” Stanislav corrected her. “I killed him. What about the others?”
She pointed to one. “He’s a blank slate like the bald one. You must have hit him too hard, too.”
He loosed another expletive. “And the last one?”
“Still alive, but as clueless as Henry.” She frowned. “Or he’s almost as clueless. These guys aren’t working alone. They’re part of a larger group. All friends who banded together and intended to split the reward reaped from Ed’s deal, whatever it was.”
“Somehow that doesn’t surprise me. Can you see who Ed made the deal with?”
“No. But the rest of the group knows Henry and the others came here today.”
“Then they’ll come looking for them. We need to leave before they do. Do you have any gloves? Dishwashing gloves perhaps?”
“Yes.”
“I have to take care of these men.”
Take care of them how? she wondered.
“While I’m gone, don the gloves and go
upstairs. Use toilet paper to wipe up any blood Henry or I spilled. Don’t toss it in the trash. Flush it down the toilet so Henry’s friends won’t find it when they search the place.”
The idea of more assholes searching her home and invading her privacy made her shudder. “Should I use cleaner?”
“No. They’ll smell it. When they get here, I want them to find only an empty house with two busted door locks. I want no signs of a struggle. As soon as I’m done with this, I’m going to dig another hole in the basement. With any luck, they’ll think you’re still out of town and believe their buddies have fled with the merchandise.” Beneath Susan’s astonished regard, he tossed the two dead men over his uninjured shoulder. “Once you’re done, make the bed and tidy everything as you would’ve if you’d gone out of town. Grab your purse, phone, keys, and laptop and come downstairs. Wipe up any blood you see on the staircase, too.” Spinning around, he disappeared through the back door.
Susan stepped into the doorway to see where he was going… only to discover he was already gone. Leaning out, she glanced left and right and saw no sign of him. Nor did she hear any rustling nearby.
How the hell had he done that?
Giving the unconscious men a wide berth, she hurried into the kitchen and grabbed a pair of vinyl gloves from the box beside the cleaners under the sink. Setting her 9mm down, she pulled them on, then reclaimed the weapon and headed for the stairs. She had only scaled five or six steps when a noise sounded below.
Heart stopping, she swiftly aimed her weapon over the banister at the back door.
Stanislav stepped inside, his burden gone. Spotting her, he held up his hands. “It’s okay. It’s just me. I had to come back for the other two. This is going to take me a minute, so call out to me mentally if you hear or see anything that makes you nervous.” He leaned down and tossed the other two men over his shoulders.
“What are you—?”
Too late. He was already through the doorway again.
Double-timing it up the stairs, Susan quickly snagged a roll of toilet paper from the bathroom and wiped up every drop of blood she could find, flushing the evidence down the toilet. It seemed to take her forever to make the bed and tidy the room. Her nerves were so frayed that she jumped at every stray sound.
How much time did they have before Henry’s friends would come looking for him?
Awaken the Darkness Page 16