Phantom Shadows ig-3

by Dianne Duvall

  Only Tanner seemed satisfied with the plan.

  “If you encounter Emrys’s shadow army and are tranqed,” Seth cautioned, “immediately move as far away as fast as you can and call your Second before you pass out. Do not try to capture the humans at your own expense.”

  “This would all be far easier if we had an antidote to the tranquilizer,” Roland pointed out, looking at Melanie. “Have you devised one yet?”

  Melanie’s heart flipped over nervously. She had, but . . . “We’re still working on it.” From the corner of her eye, she saw Bastien glance at her, but avoided his gaze. For some reason it was hardest to lie to him.

  “As I said,” Seth instructed, “if you’re drugged, though it goes against your every instinct, leave the battlefield, call your Second, and secure your own safety.”

  That did not go over well at all. Every man and woman present was trained to fight to the death if necessary, not to flee.

  Guilt suffused Melanie. She could spare them what they no doubt considered such an indignity if she could just gather enough courage to test the damned drug she had manufactured to combat the tranquilizer.

  Seth looked at David. “Anything else?”

  David shook his head.

  “That will be all for now.”

  Chairs scooted back as immortals and their Seconds rose.

  All gave both Bastien and Tanner a wide birth.

  Melanie didn’t have time to draw any conclusions before the room around her blurred and she abruptly found herself standing in the middle of a field with Bastien, Seth, and Tanner.

  Seth released the two mens’ shoulders and looked at Melanie with some surprise. “My apologies, Dr. Lipton. I didn’t realize Bastien was touching you or I would have waited to teleport him.”

  “Oh.” That was what teleportation felt like? Cool.

  Wintery wind buffeted her. A full moon illuminated the clearing enough for her to see a dirt drive overgrown with weeds and several large holes in the ground that looked as though dirt had erupted from them.

  “Where are we?”

  “My lair,” Bastien answered, dropping his hand from her arm. (Had his fingers lingered for a moment?) “Or what remains of it.”

  The lair that had housed his vampire army?

  Melanie surveyed the area again, unable to see beyond the dark trees that formed a small amphitheater around them. If Seth hadn’t meant to teleport her . . . “Should I leave?” She didn’t know where she would go, but . . .

  “No,” Seth said. “I didn’t mean you weren’t welcome. I only wished to apologize for teleporting you without first warning you.”

  “Apology accepted.”

  Tanner held his hand out to her. “I’m Tanner Long, by the way.” He was an attractive man, perhaps in his midthirties and dressed in slacks and a dress shirt. His short blond hair really stood out against the darkness characteristic of the immortals. His wire-rimmed glasses also set him apart physically. He sort of looked like a banker or an accountant. Maybe a professor.

  A hot professor, Linda would likely say before singing “Teach Me Tonight.”

  Melanie shook his hand. “Melanie Lipton. Nice to meet you.”

  “Nice to meet you, too. This is the first opportunity I’ve had to thank you for everything you’ve done for Vince, Cliff, and Joe. I think some of the immortals and humans at the network have been fighting vampires for so long that they’ve become numb to their plight. You haven’t.”

  That meant a lot to her. “I wish I could have done more for Vince.”

  “You tried to help him when no one else, save Bastien, would. He appreciated it, believe me.”

  “Thank you.”

  Bastien’s gaze swung from Melanie to Tanner, then shifted to Seth. “So why are we here?”

  “I didn’t want to tell you in front of the others that I’ve chosen Tanner to be your Second. I thought you might say something stupid like—”

  “I don’t need a Second,” Bastien protested.

  “That,” Seth finished.

  Tanner examined Bastien thoughtfully. “You needed a Second when you were working with the vampires.”

  “That was different.”

  “Not really.”

  Seth held up a hand to forestall whatever Bastien intended to say. “If you want to execute your duties as an Immortal Guardian without a babysitter, as you put it, you need a Second.”

  “No, I don’t.”

  Tanner frowned and propped his hands on his hips. “I thought you were happy with my work.”

  “I was.”

  “If you’re worried that I won’t be able to fight by your side, you can relax. The network’s been training me for almost two years now.”

  “It isn’t that.”

  “Then what is it?”

  Melanie was curious to know that herself. She would’ve thought Bastien would be happy with the arrangement.

  “If you become my Second, you will be ostracized at the very least and—”

  Tanner laughed. “Hell. Is that what’s worrying you? That I won’t be accepted by the other Seconds? This isn’t high school, Bastien. I don’t give a rat’s ass who likes me and who doesn’t.”

  Chapter 4

  Bastien stiffened. While he didn’t appreciate his concerns being so easily dismissed, he thought Tanner wasn’t seeing the full picture. “You’re right. This isn’t high school. It isn’t a popularity contest that means nothing in the greater scheme of things. It’s life or death. If the other Seconds don’t accept you, you won’t be able to count on them to back you when you need them.” He looked at Seth. “Tell him.”

  Seth shook his head. “They’ll back him or they’ll answer to Chris Reordon.”

  “Who would love nothing more than to see me fall. I’m sure he would feel the same way about anyone he considered my ally.”

  Melanie spoke. “If that were true, I wouldn’t have a job.”

  Bastien stared at her. “What?”

  “Who do you think pushed Mr. Reordon to allow you more frequent visits with Cliff and Joe?”

  “Seth.”

  “Actually,” Seth said, “it was Dr. Lipton. I merely offered my approval.”

  “And Richart and I both refused to let Mr. Reordon chain you up in the holding room,” she said. “He may not have liked it, but he didn’t fire me.”

  Bastien still didn’t understand why Richart had stood up for him. Or Dr. Lipton for that matter.

  As for Tanner . . .

  Bastien glanced uneasily at Melanie. He would really rather not do this in front of her, but didn’t see any way to avoid it. Seth wasn’t going to leave this unresolved.

  “Look,” Bastien told the only man he had truly considered a friend in many, many years, “the last decade has been beyond fucked up for you. What happened to your son was horrible enough.” Tanner’s boy had been kidnapped and murdered by a pedophile, whom Bastien had himself tracked down and punished . . . very slowly. “Then you got tangled up in my folly and lived every day surrounded by vampires who apparently wanted you dead whenever I wasn’t around.”

  “Vampires who aided me in my quest to get every fucking pedophile off the street.”

  “I’m just saying this is a chance for you to have something better. If you serve as my Second, people will give you shit every time you turn around. You don’t need that.”

  “Sure I do,” Tanner retorted with a grin. “Kinda makes life interesting, don’t you think?”

  Bastien stared at him a moment, then shook his head. “All right, you crazy bastard. I was trying to help your sorry ass, but if you’re determined to be miserable . . .”

  “Misery loves company,” Tanner quipped.

  Bastien, Seth, and Melanie all rolled their eyes.

  “Now that that’s settled, Tanner can move into David’s place.” Seth tilted his head to one side and seemed to listen for a moment. “I’ll take him there now so he can get settled.”

  Him? “Aren’t we all going back?”r />
  “No. I think it would be best to let David’s place clear out a bit before you return.”

  “Don’t want to taint them with my presence?”

  “No. Just trying to save David’s new furniture. The paint is still drying from the scuffle that arose at the last meeting we held. And the new furniture hasn’t even been around long enough to gather dust. I don’t want to risk your opening that mouth of yours and saying something asinine that will give the others an excuse to kick your ass again.”

  “It isn’t my fault if they can dish it out, but can’t take it,” Bastien said.

  “Something you might try to keep in mind,” Seth added, “is that David doesn’t have to open his home to immortals, their Seconds, and members of the network. He does it because he knows how lonely this existence can be and wants to provide us all with a family that we can turn to for company, for comfort, hell, just for fun. Family that we won’t have to watch age and die. I didn’t ask him to mentor you. He offered. When everyone else called for your execution, David welcomed you into his family. The least you could do is refrain from instigating altercations that reduce his home to something that looks like a tornado hit it.”

  Damn. Seth really knew how to make a man feel like a teenager being upbraided by a parent. As old as Bastien was, that was quite an accomplishment.

  Bastien refused to duck his head and say, “Yes, sir.” He hadn’t asked for any of this.

  He would, however, see if he couldn’t restrict his acerbic commenting to the training room where less damage would be done if a fight ensued.

  “The others should leave to begin the night’s hunt shortly. I’ll ask Richart to come for you then.” Seth met Melanie’s gaze. “Are you warm enough, Dr. Lipton?”

  She smiled. “I’m fine, thank you.”

  Seth returned his attention to Bastien. “You have company.”

  Bastien looked at Melanie.

  “Not her,” Seth said with exasperation. “A handful of vampires are headed this way. You’ll hear them momentarily.” He reached out and touched Tanner’s shoulder.

  “Wait!”

  “What?”

  Bastien stared at him. “What are you doing? Aren’t you going to take Dr. Lipton with you?”

  “No. I want her to continue monitoring you.”

  “While I’m fighting vampires?” Bastien asked incredulously.

  “She’s been trained.” Seth looked at Melanie, who nodded she was okay with it.

  Then Seth and Tanner disappeared.

  Bastien couldn’t believe it. He turned to Melanie. “What did he mean you’ve been trained?”

  She shrugged sheepishly. “I can kick ass.”

  She said it with such reluctance that Bastien felt a rush of amusement. His lips twitched as he fought a smile.

  “What?” she demanded with a frown. “You think I can’t?” She crossed her arms in a defensive pose that only drew his attention to her lovely breasts.

  “No, it’s just . . .” Eyes up. “You looked so chagrined when you said it, like someone admitting they’d just farted or something.”

  She laughed and lowered her arms. “It just felt weird to say it. I’ve never been comfortable tooting my own horn.”

  Something as simple as her smile should not make his heart race and his body react in unsuitable ways. It really shouldn’t.

  But it did. It also cast a spell that made it impossible for him to avoid smiling back.

  This was not good.

  The sounds of several bodies approaching through the trees reached his sensitive ears. Five vampires ambled in their direction. They were still a couple of miles away and seemed to be in no hurry. The scent of blood—several types—accompanied them. They must be fresh from feeding.

  Very odd. The insanity that infused vampires was usually accompanied by extreme paranoia that prevented them from getting along. Even the vampires who had banded together under Bastien’s rule had only refrained from attacking each other over the least provocation because they feared what Bastien would do to them. He hadn’t lied when he had told the others that vampires had to fear you to follow you. Like the vampire king, Bastien had had to make an example of a few before that fear had solidified. He hadn’t done so with a machete. But it had nevertheless been unpleasant.

  “What is it?” Melanie asked. She had the loveliest brown eyes.

  Keep your head in the game!

  “Five vampires, fresh from feeding.”

  And damned if it didn’t sound like an ordinary bunch of guys out killing time until the next movie started at the nearest theater.

  This could potentially be interesting.

  He would’ve looked forward to the confrontation if he weren’t concerned for Melanie’s safety. “What kind of training are we talking here?” he asked. “Self-defense?” He needed to know just how vulnerable she would be when the vampires attacked. He’d like to think they wouldn’t, that he would luck out and find new allies on his first night searching, but vampires always attacked. If they didn’t, they were plotting something.

  “Self-defense,” she confirmed. “Martial arts. Weapons. Speaking of which, I’ll need to borrow a few. I don’t usually carry when I’m at work, because Mr. Reordon doesn’t want Cliff and Joe to get their hands on them.” Expression brightening, she reached into her back pocket and pulled out what looked like three EpiPens, but were—he assumed—auto-injectors packing the tranquilizer. “Except for these.”

  Bastien considered them thoughtfully. Three auto-injectors. Five vampires. He could work with those numbers. Perhaps he could begin to forge ties with the vampires tonight after all.

  “I tell you what . . .” He drew his katanas and gave them a twirl. “Do you know how to use these?”

  “Of course.” Her pragmatic response, utterly devoid of boasts, convinced him she spoke the truth. Richart’s Second crowed about his skills all the time, but Bastien had yet to see the boy win a single sparring match.

  “Then I’ll trade you these for those.”

  Melanie eyed his weapons. “I’d rather have the daggers.”

  Smiling, Bastien returned the katanas to their sheaths and drew a dagger from the loops sewn into the lining of his coat.

  Melanie offered him the auto-injectors with a sly smile. “You work fast.”

  His pulse picked up.

  When he didn’t respond, she motioned to the forest. “Already planning to recruit?”

  He shrugged and studied the auto-injectors. Melanie was just too irresistible at the moment. “No point in waiting, really. How do these work?”

  “Remove the red cap, press the tip against their skin, and hold it for three seconds.”

  Bastien removed all of the red caps. “Three seconds is a long time.”

  He could cross a football field from end zone to end zone in three seconds.

  “I know. But usually auto-injectors take ten seconds to deliver a full dose. I cut it down as much as I could.”

  He nodded and handed her another dagger. Then another. And another.

  Each one she tucked into a different pocket.

  The vampires were close enough to catch Bastien and Melanie’s conversation now.

  He caught Melanie’s attention, touched his ear, then motioned to the forest on the east side of the clearing.

  “It was the vampire king’s fault,” he said, beginning his performance. “He should never have believed the lies.”

  She nodded. “He’d be alive today if he hadn’t. He and his army.”

  The vampires stopped moving. Their voices hushed.

  “It’s the old sleight-of-hand trick,” he went on. “Keep the vampires’ attention focused on the immortals—”

  “And they’ll never see the new enemy coming,” Melanie finished, her soft, warm voice filled with regret.

  “Vampires as a whole will be as easily extinguished as the vampire king and his army. Immortals, too.”

  A nearly silent conversation began among their audience. />
  “Most vampires think the Immortal Guardians quelled the king’s uprising.”

  “Some know the truth. But not enough. The immortals never would have achieved victory if so many of the vampire king’s followers had not already been destroyed,” Bastien lied.

  “Well, now that vampires no longer have a leader, I don’t know how to warn them.”

  Foliage rustled as the vampires put on a burst of speed and raced for the clearing.

  Bastien moved to stand in front of Melanie, then cursed when she took two steps to the side and frowned up at him.

  Reddish leaves already loosened by the cool weather burst from the bushes on the east side of the clearing and tumbled to the ground like candy from a piñata.

  Dirt rose and fell in a cloud as the vampires skidded to a halt and faced them, all in a line, hands at their sides as if they were gunslingers preparing for a showdown.

  Rather slovenly gunslingers.

  Sans guns.

  The vamps ranged in size from Melanie’s height—roughly five foot five—to nearly Bastien’s height of six feet and possessed the standard rangy, never-lifted-a-weight-in-their-lives build undisguised by baggy jeans. The blond wore a leather jacket he had probably filched from one of his victims. His auburn-haired friend wore a Carolina Panthers sweatshirt. The third vamp, whose short, raven hair was slicked back with what looked like an entire can of Murray’s Pomade, wore all black. Black pleather pants. Black dress shirt. Black pleather tie. Black belt. Shiny black loafers. Bastien couldn’t decide exactly what look the vamp had been going for, but he’d missed it whatever it was.

  The other two vamps, who Bastien surmised had not been vamps for very long, wore matching Tar Heels sweatshirts.

  Three of the vamps, the ones whose eyes were already glowing and whose fangs were exposed, were splattered with blood. The other two weren’t.

  “Who the hell are you?” the blood-speckled blond in the leather jacket demanded.

  “Yeah,” the vamp with auburn hair seconded. “What are you doing here?”

  Bastien made a show of looking around. “If I’m not mistaken—and I’m not—this isn’t your property, so I have every right to be here.”