by Casey Lane
But that wouldn’t be very responsible.
She nodded. "I’m not interested in a person with secrets."
He looked from side to side and met her eyes again. "Okay. I’m from the Tuscan clan."
Lyra instinctively moved back. "Tuscan? And Spencer said you were a prince." Her heart started pumping twice as much blood. "But that means–"
"Yes. It means that you killed my father."
Chapter Eleven
Lyra wasn't sure how she made it out of bed so fast, but before she knew it, she was at the bedroom door crouched in a fighting stance. She looked at the confused and sheepish vampire prince who still knelt on the bedspread. As his eyes met hers, she finally gleaned the family resemblance. His father had murdered hundreds of innocent humans, and if it weren't for weeks of training specifically geared toward taking the king down, she would have joined the list too.
"Don't come any closer." Her heart beat fast, helping to overcome some of the weakness in her legs. "I can't believe I let myself trust you."
Mace stepped off the bed, though he honored her request not to bridge the gap between them. "Lyra, you're not the only one who wanted my father dead."
"Yeah, I bet the relatives and friends of the hundreds of people he killed wanted a piece too." Lyra ignored the twitching of her still-healing quadriceps. "Stay right here, unless you have plans to meet your dad today."
With that, she stumbled out of the room and exited through the front door. As her eyes adjusted to an even dimmer hallway, she couldn't help but remember the terrifying battle with the Tuscan king. The image of the vampire's cold eyes would never leave her, no matter how many years and battles had stacked up in between. His claws were as sharp as razor blades, and she had the scars to prove it. As her legs sent the sensation of pins and needles to her brain, she wondered if there was any way in hell she could get herself psyched up for a second family battle.
From the sound of footsteps behind her, she knew that Mace hadn't honored her second request.
"Lyra, wait! You shouldn't go that way."
As she ignored the vampire and continued moving forward, she thought of every punch and kick and drop of blood that took place over a decade ago. If it weren't for her mentor, Piers, she would have died beside the king, choking on a pint of her own blood. Her handler would’ve just shook his head at her current unpreparedness. When she looked up for a way out, she realized something. Mace's apartment was the only door in the entire hallway.
Where the hell did he take me?
She turned a corner down another seemingly deserted hall.
"Just because my father was a homicidal maniac, doesn't mean I am!" Mace was taking it easy on Lyra, keeping the same slow pace as she was. "Maybe it skipped a generation."
"Skipped a generation?" Lyra never stopped moving as she spoke. "Wasn't your grandfather known as the Conqueror?"
"Maybe it skipped every other generation?"
As Lyra's legs regained most of their feeling, her slow shuffle became a marathon jog. But then she turned another corner to discover something completely unexpected. The ceiling gave way to a room as tall and wide as three airplane hangars combined. The room had a secret society feel to it, with artificial light beaming down upon spotless, metallic surfaces. The room was absolutely massive and impressive, and Lyra had no clue on Earth where to find an exit.
Upon hearing a noise to her right, she ran in that direction, picking up one of the futuristic weapons Mace had used a few days prior. She pushed several buttons on the side until she heard the satisfying purr of machinery humming to life. Only a brief second of fear snuck through her adrenaline.
I hope I don't make this damn thing blow us all up.
She used the gun to push open a slightly cracked door, and revealed a skinny bearded man wearing a polo shirt. He had both hands wrapped around a foot-long sandwich, which seemed to grab all of his attention, despite the scrolling lines of code dancing across his computer monitor.
Lyra stood up as tall as her broken body would let her. "Get me the hell out of here!"
The man's eyes opened wide as he released the sandwich from his grasp. It hit the ground with a squish.
His words came out rapidly without a breath of air to be found. "Lyra Thorne, the 57th vampire hunter in existence. The incredible, undefeated protector of humanity. I've been following your work for so long; it's amazing to actually see you in person. If you weren't holding a gun in my face, I'd want to shake your hand or hug you if you were up for that sort of thing. I assume you're not–"
"Shut up!"
The bearded man's hands rubbed together, causing some of the remaining breadcrumbs to float to the ground. "I'm sorry for all the talking. People have told me that I'm a bit of an over-explainer, and I can understand where they're coming from, but I think sometimes words are our best possible defense–"
Lyra aimed the weapon at his head. "In as few words as possible, tell me how I can get out of here."
The man nodded. "Of course, of course. But I'm pretty sure Mace doesn't want you to leave. At least that's what he–"
Lyra screamed. "I will shoot you with whatever the hell this is."
"Did Mace not tell you why you're here?"
Lyra relaxed her muscles slightly at this. "What do you mean why I'm here? What is this place?"
"I never quite got to tell you that." Mace leaned against the doorframe. "This place is where you continue your mission."
Chapter Twelve
Lyra backed farther into the room to keep her eyes on the man with the beard and Mace at the same time. She now trained her weapon on the vampire prince who'd taken her to this strange place. She assumed the skinny sandwich eater wouldn't pose much of a threat, but she'd been wrong about that sort of thing before. As Mace put his hands in the air, she spied a whiteboard beside him. She couldn't make out the words, or at least their meanings, except for one name that stuck out: Matthew Spencer.
She shook her head. "I want answers. Now!"
Mace took a step into the room and opened his mouth.
Lyra's finger twitched on the trigger. "Not from you!" She glanced toward the skinner of the two. "I want answers, Sandwich Man. Succinctly, if you can."
The man smiled and gave a dorky wave. "Hi, my name is Doug. As you know, I'm a huge fan of your work. In fact, I have a few questions about some of the holes in your timeline."
“Enough!" Lyra sighed and turned toward the vamp. "Fine, feed me a few more of your lies, Your Highness."
Mace smiled. In the midst of all this ridiculousness, she still somehow found his grin sexy.
"Doug is a hacker and a genius. He helps us to hunt down unhumans who aren't exactly on our side."
Lyra took another second to twice-over Doug. He certainly did fit the profile of a computer nerd.
She took a deep breath. "And whose side are you on?"
"Mine." A short woman with long, silver hair stepped into the doorway. She spoke with the confidence of seven decades, if not 70. "We're also on your side. Really, all of us are on the same side as humanity."
The woman seemed wise beyond her years. Maybe beyond everybody's years. She strode into the room like a person who'd accomplished more than you could ever dream possible.
But Lyra knew that being sure of yourself wasn't the same thing as being right.
Lyra kept her gun pointed at Mace, though she was no longer sure he was the biggest threat. "If you want me to trust you three, then I need you to answer some questions. For instance, where the fuck are we and why did you bring me here?"
Mace continued to keep his hands raised in the air. "I wasn't lying to you that this is a safe house. It's just not a safe house for the FBI."
The old woman's face creased in a grin. "When the vampires came under government protection, certain parties weren't so sure of their intentions. After your handler left you alone and the Order dissolved, somebody needed to step up and protect the world from unhumans who weren't so interested in the new status
quo." The woman kept walking until Lyra's gun was an inch from her face. She extended her hand toward her, as if there was no weapon or enmity between the two. "My name is Rhea, Ms. Thorne, and I assure you that if I meant you any harm, you would certainly know it by now."
Lyra had seen countless creatures and oddities in her time. But there was something about the woman standing before her that felt like she'd just met something new.
Lyra pointed the weapon to the floor and let it hang by one finger.
Doug ambled over and took the device from her hand. "With the settings you had primed on that thing, it would have splattered me all over the walls. See, the way I put this device together, it was meant to handle the molecular structure–"
"As for where we are–" Rhea gave her resident hacker a sideways glance. "We're currently 10 stories below the Hancock Tower. In a way, we're hiding in plain sight."
Lyra looked up into the main area of the hideout. She could hardly believe that there were thousands of people bustling around above them. Then again, she'd had no clue that something like this could have remained undetected beneath the city streets.
She flared her nostrils. "And someone whose father killed so many innocents is the lead member of your team? How am I supposed to believe that you're looking out for humanity with someone like him in control?”
Mace walked forward. "I never had a father. Not really. I didn't have any inkling to be like him or kill like him. If it weren’t for Rhea, I was a lot more likely to kill myself."
Lyra suddenly felt a stronger connection to the vampire. The same type of thoughts had crossed her mind on many different occasions.
A silence spread through the room, until Doug cut through it like an annoying knife.
"So, we're obviously the good guys. Now, when you stopped the apocalypse in 1998, how exactly did you kill that 20-foot tall demon creature? I've been trying to figure it out for years."
She raised an eyebrow at Mace. "Is he always like this?"
His seriousness melted away. "He is, but he seems to have a special spot in his heart for you."
Lyra rolled her eyes toward Doug. “Fire weakness. Molotov cocktail." She took a deep breath and sent a silent prayer upward through the tall building above before eyeing Mace again. "What do you guys know about someone named Coleridge? It was the one piece of evidence I was able to get out of Spencer before he blew himself up."
Rhea nodded as if she was processing the information outwardly. "Coleridge? Yes, his name makes sense. There is a Coleridge who runs a real estate company that's buying up foreclosed office buildings throughout the city. If there was someone plotting to kill unhumans, a few dozen abandoned buildings would certainly help that cause." Rhea glanced between Lyra and Mace several times with eyes that looked like they'd seen almost everything. "If you're up for it, I'd like you and Mace to go check this company out. That is, if you're interested in joining us?"
Lyra looked around the room. Doug seemed to be barely suppressing the joy that he seemed to feel from quizzing her on more of her landmark kills. She couldn't read Mace's look. He seemed frustrated and hopeful at the same time. But that didn't mean any of them were trustworthy.
She shrugged her shoulders. "Since I don't have a precinct to go back to, I guess I don't have much of a choice."
And since you guys might be my only chance of stopping whoever killed my friends at the station, you may be the only way I'm solving this case.
She smiled as if her decision had been made with 100% confidence. "I'm in."
Chapter Thirteen
Lyra and Mace looked up at the stunning Chicago high-rise from across the street. She had to admit, it was wild to think that one person could own that entire property. And for that person to be the last name mentioned by a suicidal maniac, she wasn't sure if that made it less or more impressive.
Lyra stretched out one leg on a nearby lamppost while she still felt the remnants of her injuries; fast healing had always been one of her favorite superhuman benefits. "So, I have another question."
Mace folded his arms. "Am I going to get to ask some questions, or is this just an extended interrogation session?"
During the trip over there, Lyra had learned more than a few things about the vampire prince. While he was the oldest living descendant of his father, the Tuscan clan's throne remained vacant. Even his vampire brothers and sisters didn't seem interested in following in their father's footsteps. She learned that while he was in a secret organization, he did actually work for the FBI as well. They knew he was a vampire, and they'd actually recruited him as part of a program to give disadvantaged unhumans an opportunity to thrive. She'd considered asking boxers or briefs, but she thought that might be too personal."
Lyra stretched the other leg. "Is this underground Scooby-Doo club your way of making up for your family's horrible, horrible crimes?”
He took a long, hard look at the building as he spoke. "Rhea came to me when I was at my lowest. I really didn't know how many more days I would last. She gave me an opportunity to do something good with my life." He turned his attention toward her. "She taught me that we don't always have to follow the path laid out for us."
Lyra wrinkled her nose. "Whatever. Your secret club and underground lair are pretty weird."
Mace laughed. She had a sudden desire to do everything she could to make him laugh and hear that sound again as many times as humanly possible. She stuffed the urge back down with all of the other inappropriate desires she'd conjured since they’d left the compound.
"It's way easier to bend the law when you're a secret." He looked down at her extended leg. "Are we warming up for a 5K, or are we actually going to go see this guy?"
She stood back up and stuck out her tongue. "I'm sorry for not being as naturally limber as a vampire prince. So, how are we getting in? Did Dougie Boy come up with some blueprints?"
The comm buzzed in her left ear. "Do not call me Dougie Boy. I have a PhD!"
"Does that make you Dougie Howser, MD?"
Doug grumbled on the other end of the line.
Mace let out a huff. "Stop it, you two. There are no blueprints. I actually made an appointment with Coleridge."
Lyra's shoulders sunk. "So much for being secretive." She watched the nearby stoplight change, and stepped into the crosswalk with a groan. "I guess we'll just go in through the front door. No covert mission necessary, I suppose."
Mace matched her stride for stride. "If it makes you feel any better, I did use a fake name."
She kept her eyes away from his. "I guess so. I always thought it would be fun to scale another building, that's all."
Mace opened the door to an impeccable lobby. She breathed in the cool, clean air of the pristine, high-ceilinged room.
Wow, whoever this Coleridge guy is, he must be doing pretty well for himself.
While the room looked as though it could handle hundreds of shoppers or businesspeople, they were met with an eerie silence as they entered. Their footsteps echoed throughout the nearly empty lobby, as they took the long walk to the lone receptionist's desk.
After Mace gave their generic fake names to the long-legged woman keeping watch, she led them over to the elevator. Seemingly out of nowhere, two broad-shouldered men, who filled out their black suits quite nicely, stepped toward the elevator as well to flank her and Mace. As the elevator opened, the four of them left the receptionist behind and took the awkward elevator ride skyward.
She whispered in Mace's ear. "I have a bad feeling about this. A guy with a creepy huge building is probably going to be pretty creepy himself."
He tilted his head toward her. "It's fine. It's an informational trip."
With his head so close to hers, she took in his scent like she had in the safe house's bedroom. She tried to block out the image of sharing that bed with him once again.
"Informational. Might end up executional."
Mace gave her the side-eye as the doors opened to another silent, beautiful hallway. One of the hulkin
g guards urged them to follow him. It was a short trip to the ornate door with the CEO’s name on a plaque to the side.
"Mr. Coleridge will see you now."
He held open the door with a meaty paw, and the two of them walked inside.
The owner of a massive building in the middle of one of the most expensive cities in the world sat in a chair with his back toward them.
He cleared his throat. "So nice of you two to visit. Won't you please take a seat?"
Lyra's chest tightened. The voice was chillingly familiar. Neither her brain nor her heart could truly believe who it was.
Her voice broke as she said the name. "Piers?"
As the chair turned around, her suspicions were validated. The man who had trained her to hunt the unhuman scourge was sitting right there in front of her after over a decade of absence.
"Lyra Thorne. It's so very nice to see you again."
Chapter Fourteen
Lyra's mind raced through years of intense pain and growth with the man sitting behind the mahogany desk. She'd spent so many hours looking up to her mentor; whether she was on the ground after a particular nasty training session or looking into his eyes when he explained yet another ancient curse she would have to dispel. She'd spent thousands of hours with the man, but after six years of training, one government announcement apparently caused him to vanish without a trace. Until now.
Lyra gripped the arm of the chair to her side. "Piers. I didn't know you were still alive. You never said good— You tried to kill me, didn't you?"
Piers' temples had grayed in the decade since she'd seen him, but he still maintained his stern, unforgiving demeanor. He was absolutely terrifying when she'd first met him at the age of 10. She was starting to rival his glower by the time he'd skipped town.
Piers sighed. "Guilty as charged." He glanced toward Mace. "And if it isn't the prince of the Tuscan clan. I'm truly honored by your presence."