by Nina Pierce
“That pig research may just save your life,” Ronan shot back.
“As a vegetarian, I suspect that research will simply waste needed university funds and will be as useless as the pigs themselves.” Hope set down her glass with a bang, spilling some of the drink over her hand. “Aww, jees, Glenn I’m sorry about that. I know your pigs are important to you. I didn’t mean—”
“No offense taken.”
“But your pigs. I—”
Glenn pulled the towel off his shoulder and wiped up the mess. “Don’t you worry, Hope. Takes a lot to insult me.”
“No doubt Glenn’s very adept at dealing with rude drunks.” Ronan swirled the wine in his glass, inhaling its aroma before sipping from the glass and savoring the dark liquid.
Hope spoke through gritted teeth. “Ronan, I don’t need to go a round with you. I just came in for a quiet drink and some face time with Alex.”
“Someone call my name?”
Glenn watched the co-owner of O’Malley’s sneak in from the kitchen as if she could hide her arrival from him. Though Alexandra Flanagan hadn’t told him specifically where she was headed when she’d dropped her apron under the bar and gathered her purse, she’d said she wouldn’t be long. Three hours was longer than it took to run a typical Thursday night errand. Whatever the hell that might be.
“Evening, Alex. You working the kitchen tonight?” Ronan asked.
“Yeah, something like that.” Alex smiled apologetically at Glenn.
Their short order cook, Chris Dillon, had left unexpectedly an hour before Alex, leaving him to finish the evening by himself. Not that it was a problem for Glenn, but their behavior was just a little suspect.
“Chris have the night off?” Hope asked.
“He went home sick,” Alex replied. “Can I get anyone anything?”
Ronan finished his wine in one swallow. “How about another glass of your finest?” The way his eyes followed the woman with the Irish pixie features, Glenn had no illusions the man’s nightly visits had anything to do with the wine they served.
“The usual Merlot?” Alex asked, slipping in behind the bar.
“Nothing like a local California wine and a beautiful lassie to end a perfect evening,” Ronan replied.
Glenn didn’t miss the wink Ronan shot Alex as she uncorked the bottle and overfilled his glass. Though the two vampires worked together at the university and were decades older than their twenty-something appearance—infancy in the grand scheme of immortality—Glenn hoped nothing would ever develop between them.
Ronan had shown up in South Kenton six months ago with the lush winds of spring as part of the solution to Glenn’s very desperate plea to the vampire tribunal. He would be here only as long as it took to discover the reason behind the recent rash of vampire murders and then he’d move on to the next place where vampires threatened either humans or their own species.
Alex had become part of his family a decade after Glenn had settled in this Northern California mountain town forty years ago. She’d found her way to him, a stray in need of saving. Glenn had made it his personal mission, nearly a century ago, to help new vampires find their way in the mortal world. His reputation had spread and now, countless numbers of young vamps came to him. Drawn by word of mouth, they sought explanations, training and—if possible—redemption.
Every single one of those he’d saved over the years hummed softly in the background of his consciousness, permanently connected to the very heart of his being. Some, like Alex, were closer to the surface. Until recently, her internal monologue was as much a part of him as his own thoughts. Tired of his presence in her head, she’d managed to block him. Glenn shouldn’t miss her quiet whispers, but after thirty years of listening to her dreams and fears, the silence was deafening.
Like so many of his protégés, Alex had lost her mortal family. Her parents believed she’d died the night of the vampire attack thirty years ago. But Glenn’s blood and tender care had brought her from the brink of death into the world of immortality. It had taken nearly three years for her to swim out of the sorrow of losing her former life. Glenn had broken his own codes, allowing her to live with him until she’d become secure in her new life. By then, she was working with him and they’d slipped into a comfortable life running the tavern. In the decade that followed, Alex had received her PhD in chemistry, taken the job at the university and somewhere along the road, crawled under his skin and burrowed her way into his heart. He loved her like a daughter.
But there was just something a little off about the way she’d been acting recently. Alex stacked glasses in the dish bin beneath the bar while Glenn absently polished its surface, wishing she trusted him enough to share what was really going on.
“I’m surprised to see you here tonight, Hope. What’s up?” Alex stifled a yawn.
“Boredom. There are only so many re-runs a girl can watch before being driven insane.”
“Twasn’t a long drive,” Ronan muttered.
Hope ignored the comment or, more likely, her human ears didn’t hear the insult. “Josh is working tonight and I’ve got tomorrow off. I get to cover the Harvest Hoe Down on Saturday.” She saluted with her glass. “Yay, me” Hope took a long pull of her drink. “Anyway, I walked over and thought I’d hang while you closed down the bar. I’m hoping to catch a ride home.”
“Tonight?” Alex pressed a hand to her stomach.
“Oh, sorry, I didn’t expect you to have plans. My bad,” Hope said.
“No, I didn’t mean that.” Alex pasted on an overly cheerful smile and swallowed hard.
Without the ability to hear her thoughts, Glenn didn’t know if it was guilt or sickness clogging her throat. But now that he looked closely, Alex didn’t look well. He wondered if the disappearing acts over the last couple of months had anything to do with the recent weight loss she refused to discuss.
“Of course I can take you home.” Alex grabbed the overflowing bucket of dishes. “I just need to get these done.”
Hope picked up her drink and jumped off the stool. “Why don’t I join you? It suddenly got downright cold sitting here.” She aimed her last statement at Ronan.
“And unexpectedly crowded,” Ronan responded, sipping thoughtfully at his wine.
Alex rolled her eyes, but made no comment at their antagonistic banter. “I’d love your help, Hope.” Alex stifled another yawn into her shoulder as she started past Glenn.
“If you weren’t feeling well, you didn’t need to come back,” he said so only she could hear. “It wasn’t like I couldn’t handle the raucous crowd alone.” He shot a look over his shoulder at Ronan and the other two customers sitting at the bar nursing their drinks.
“I know you could. But I felt bad leaving right after Chris.” Alex’s hair bounced around her chin as she tried to add enthusiasm to her voice. “It’s just that I needed to run an important errand that couldn’t wait.”
“I know what you told me, child. But I have eyes, don’t I? You’re dragging around here like you haven’t been feeding enough.”
Alex propped the dish bucket on her hip and reached up to caress his cheek. “I appreciate that you worry about me, Glenn, but really, I’m fine. I just had something that needed to be done tonight. I couldn’t put it off. It’s done now. I told you I’d be back and now I’m here.”
“Well, at least leave the dishes and take Hope home. With all that’s been going on in town, I don’t want her walking home alone tonight.”
“Fine, but you can’t keep me from coming back and helping you close up.”
Before he could argue, Alex disappeared through the kitchen door Hope held open.
“What was all that about?” Hope asked as the door flipped closed behind them.
“You know Glenn. He worries too much.” Alex set the bucket of dishes in the sink and turned on the faucet, relieved to be away from Glenn’s scrutiny. She’d heard the faded sound of his concerned thoughts and had shored up her mental blocks. His suspicious gaze had sear
ched her face seeking the truth. Perhaps remorse had her misreading his furrowed brow. It was probably nothing more than concern puckering his wise expression and pursing his lips, but the intensity sparking in the ancient vampire’s eyes had churned the guilt in her belly. Alex hated being so duplicitous, even if she did it to protect Glenn.
“Yeah, well you don’t look like you’re feeling so good.” Hope dragged a chair from the corner and settled at the butcher block island in the middle of the kitchen. “You’ve been losing weight.”
Alex had felt an instant connection with this woman a year ago when the human had started dating Josh and coming into the tavern with the firemen. After thirty years of being immortal, it felt good to make a true connection with the normal life that had been ripped from her. “Don’t you start on me, Hope Grayson.”
“I’m just saying. You’ve been moping around the last few weeks like somebody ran over your dog.”
“Don’t be so melodramatic.” Alex added soap to the bin and let the suds overflow the dishes. “I don’t even own a dog.”
Hope drained her martini. “Figure of speech, my dear. Figure of speech. My point is you look like shit. Your eyes are carrying more bags than the Duchess of Cambridge on a three day press junket. And your hair? Well let’s just say I’ve seen straw with a smoother texture.”
Alex hadn’t noticed until this moment how the words slurred from Hope’s lips. She laughed, trying to make light of the brutal truth of her best friend’s assessment. “How many drinks have you had?”
“Three. But don’t change the subject. What’s going on with you? I’m a reporter. I smell a story.”
Alex couldn’t tell Hope the truth. There were just too many things the woman wouldn’t understand about how the exhaustion weighing down Alex’s limbs went against her very nature. Bone-weary and barely able to pull herself through her days, Alex hoped she would soon be on the road to feeling like the person she hadn’t been in many decades. But there was no way to explain any of that to Hope without exposing a world that existed only in the woman’s nightmares.
Trying to lighten the mood, Alex forced another laugh. “What you smell, Miss Hope, is the alcohol stewing your brain.” She dried her hands on her apron, untied it and threw it on the sideboard. “I’ll leave those to soak. We need to get you home.”
Hope stood and hugged her tightly. “And you my dear friend need to get some sleep. I don’t like seeing you this way.”
“You’re as bad as Glenn. You both worry too much. I’m fine.”
Hope held her at arm’s length, her gaze scouring her face, but Alex refused to break. The woman could tell she was lying. Alex could see the disappointment in the way she shrugged and headed out the kitchen door. Like Glenn, Hope had too much respect for her privacy to call Alex on her obvious lies. Guilt knotted hard in her gut, making her queasy, but Alex had no choice in the matter.
No one—least of all an honorable vampire like Glenn or an innocent human like Hope—needed to know her whereabouts this night.
Chapter Two
Though everything around Reese hummed with nervous energy, including the humans pumped up on adrenaline, his bunched muscles remained still. Sitting in the back seat of Engine One as it screamed through the night, Reese was singularly focused on the job ahead. When he’d accepted this assignment a year ago, he’d held little hope being undercover as a firefighter would offer much in the way of excitement. But the physical and mental demands of fighting fires were grueling and more of a challenge than he’d expected—even for his physical superiority.
The air tank strapped to his back had been released from its storage area in the back of his seat within minutes of closing the back door. Both the gloves and mask in his hands would be pulled on at the scene. Even immortals couldn’t survive the high heat and noxious fumes fires produced.
Josh sat beside him, working the thermal imaging camera out of its holding box and powering it on. Reese leaned forward, making sure the images were feeding to the monitor between them. If someone was trapped, they were assigned the rescue. Even after thirteen months in the department, no mortal had discovered the unique talents the two men possessed that made the job of pulling victims from burning buildings a simpler task.
The engine turned into the parking lot of an apartment complex, everyone in the truck evaluating the scene. Only one apartment on the second floor of the structure was currently involved. An orange hue glowed from its windows, but no flames had escaped into the night. Probably a kitchen stove fire or a cigarette carelessly tossed into a bedroom wastebasket. The residents of the building huddled in dazed confusion in the corner of the parking lot. Many clutched clothing, photos or purses like prized possessions, knowing it may be all that remained after the beast raging above them had been slain. A young couple comforted each other and a crying infant. Reese assessed all this in the seconds it took Timmons to pull the engine into place.
The firefighters jumped from the truck, each knowing the role they would play in saving people and property. An older man broke from the crowd, running toward the engine, frantically waving toward the building and shouting, “She’s still up there.”
Deputy Chief Sykes laid a beefy hand on the man’s shoulder. Frantic victims didn’t disseminate accurate information. Mere seconds meant the difference between rescue and recovery. “Tell us who’s up there and where she might be.”
“Mrs. Linscott. She’s got Alzheimer’s. Back apartment. Second floor. I tried—”
Sykes turned to his men. “Burkett. Colton. Don’t wait for water. They’ll be right behind you. Fire appears contained on the west side. Watch yourselves that it doesn’t flash over.”
Reese didn’t need to look behind him to know McLeod was running a line from the hydrant to the engine while Timmons pulled the hose from the rack on the truck. The two men would work together to bring water into the building while he and Josh began the search. Their platoon was a finely tuned instrument, each moving as synchronized as a Swiss watch.
It went against Reese’s nature to run toward fire. And that’s exactly why they’d taken the jobs. The tribunal believed no one would look for vampires working as firefighters and their undercover investigations would be more fruitful. They’d been accepted without question into the brotherhood. And though it appeared no one suspected what they were, they weren’t any closer to discovering the motive behind the unsolved fires than they were thirteen months ago when they’d arrived.
With his bunker suit and the air tank strapped to his back, Reese had added no less than sixty-five pounds of gear. He barely felt the added weight as he donned his mask, flipped the switch at the bottom of his air tank and entered the building, noting the lack of smoke in the foyer. He leaped up the six stairs to the first landing in one bound, his gaze sweeping the darkness of the two lower apartments. No one here. Rounding the corner, he could hear the pull of air behind him as Josh followed. Both reached the second landing in two graceful leaps.
Reese turned another corner, looking up the eight steps to the second floor. The heart of the fire lay ahead of them and to the left. It pumped black smoke into the hall like blood through arteries. The light on Reese’s shoulder barely cut through the dense air. If there was someone up there, they needed to move quickly. Fire. Smoke. A disoriented elderly woman. It was a sure recipe for disaster.
Neither McLeod nor Timmons could see from this angle, so he and Josh jumped to the second floor hallway.
Fed by furniture, carpeting and wood, the fiery animal to his left mushroomed. Windows exploded in the burning apartment and instinct had them ducking away from the noise and flying debris. The heat intensified and the fire hungered for more nourishment. Tongues of flame licked across the apartment ceiling, but the fire wasn’t Reese’s concern. He could see Timmons and McLeod pressing up the stairs with the hose at the ready. He ignored the tempest and entered the apartment on the right.
No lights were on, but with his keen sight Reese didn’t need them to see that
only smoke, not flames rolled along the ceiling in this apartment. It hadn’t yet come down to eye level. For the benefit of anyone who might be watching the monitor in the truck, Josh turned on the imaging camera and swept it around the living room.
“Clear.” Josh’s voice was tinny and hollow through the side speakers of his mask.
“Hello. Anyone here?” Reese called into the apartment. Nothing.
Josh moved through the living room toward the kitchen while Reese split off to search the rooms on the other side of the apartment.
“Clear,” he heard Josh shout again.
Turning the corner into the hall, he nearly ran into her. The frail woman appeared unaffected by his presence. Veins glowed through the papery skin of her hands. Her nervous fingers laced and rolled over each other as her eyes searched the night. A cotton nightie ballooned on her frail frame. “Dark. It’s so dark. Where’s Benjamin?” Her pale eyes turned to him. He watched the soft expression of confusion harden to terror. “You’re not here to help me find Benjamin. You … you …” Her finger shook at him as her shuffling feet moved her unsteadily toward the refuge of the bathroom behind her. “You unholy creature. Don’t come near me.”
Damn. Reese had no idea if the bunker gear frightened her or if unconsciously she sensed something deeper. Animals, children and the elderly often sensed his true nature.
It didn’t matter what spooked her. He needed the docile victim of a moment ago, not the frightened women stubbornly backing away from him. Reese pulled off the helmet and face mask. Only the black Nomex hood covered his head. Not procedure, but he needed her to see him as human and calm down, or taking her from her apartment would not be pleasant for either of them. “Mrs. Linscott. I’m Reese. I’m a local fireman. You need to come with me. Your building is on fire. You aren’t safe.”
“Benjamin!” she shouted for help as she retreated into the bathroom and attempted to shut the door. Reese held it open with his heavy boot. The radio in his ear confirmed Timmons and McLeod were getting ahead of the fire next door. Still, they needed to find this Benjamin and get them both clear of the building in case it flared and the situation became more dangerous.