by Rawlyns, Nya
“Dogleg, dead ahead. See that?” Smithy did a chin point, not daring to take his hands off the wheel.
The Sea-Doo skittered and fishtailed as it negotiated the turn, the running lights wavering in the humid mist rising off the water. Smithy managed to coax additional rpms out of their engines, closing the gap. They hit the turn, easing through it, then straightened and forged ahead, the hull bouncing slightly in the wake from the other boat.
Magda leaned close and shouted into Smithy’s ear over the whine of the engines, “They’ll stop to offload at the bridge. It’ll either be a gunner to take us out or they’ll move Damien to a vehicle, or both. Either way we need to take out the bridge and the shooter.” She didn’t bother with ‘otherwise we won’t be around to follow after Damien or anyone else.’
“Let’s make it both, girlfriend.” Smithy gave her a toothy smile.
“One shot, that’s all this sucker’s good for.”
“That ain’t the only projectile we got.”
“Oh.” Damn. Smithy could call her whatever he damn well pleased. He was diabolical.
“You swim?”
“Like a fish, darlin’.”
“Okay, here’s the play. There’s only two of them plus Damien in the boat. One’s going onto the bridge, the other’s going to have to muscle Damien to the vehicle, probably with a driver to help, but I’m only guessing. But Damien’s big and he’s dead weight and a rocking boat isn’t going to help.”
“You want me to handle the bridge and the other?”
“If you can. Leave me off a couple of seconds before. I’ll make sure the vehicle’s not going anywhere.”
“Howzat?”
She opened her vest, displaying a deadly collection of throwing stars and short-handled blades. Smithy looked impressed but his expression turned thoughtful.
“Take my Sig. Just to make sure.”
“You’re a good man, Smithy.”
“That’s what all the ladies say… Heads up, they’re slowing. Get yourself ready… and good luck.”
The man eased them closer to the canal edge without reducing speed, cutting through thick vegetation and branches poking from the low bank. Magda braced on the transom, the foothold narrow and slick with spray, giving the rapidly approaching bank her undivided attention. At better than thirty miles an hour she didn’t want to hit the ground wrong and waste precious seconds.
Smithy fed her information. “The man’s on the bridge already, setting up. I can’t see no vehicle but looks like they’re moving a body to higher ground.” The boat lurched once, twice, as the starboard chines scrapped the edge of the levee.
It felt a lot like bumper cars, seriously jostling her, the footing precarious at best.
Smithy shouted, “NOW!” and launched the rocket. She felt rather than heard the backblast from the solid propellant motor, her right calf taking the brunt of it. She’d have some serious burns to contend with later.
If there was a later.
She hit the ground awkwardly, slipping down the short slope, until a tangle of weeds or brush halted the skid. Cursing roundly, she scrambled up the bank, ignoring the thunderous explosions to her left. She couldn’t even think about Damien, whether or not they’d successfully off-loaded him far enough before their little world turned into hell on earth.
Or even if Smithy had managed to get off their speedboat before smashing it into the stern of the Sea-Doo.
She dodged around chunks of burning bridge littering the ground, circling, desperate to find the vehicle. The glare and flames robbed her of her night vision; she ran on instinct, not bothering with stealth.
She had one and only one chance.
Samuels was reluctant to abandon the humans to the swamp but he had a suspicion it wasn’t over yet. They had Damien but he hadn’t been their primary target. Trinity was after bigger fish. And with both himself and Rinj to choose from that made for a very attractive all you can kill buffet.
Rinj. Did you eliminate your targets?
Yes and yes.
Good. Then get your sorry ass to the limo and make sure Catrina’s alright.
Copy that. Way ahead of you.
Get her to safety. That’s priority one.
And the driver?
Samuels wasn’t sure about Rinj’s tone of voice. He sounded oddly… concerned. Fearful.
Take him, leave him, I don’t care. I’ll leave that up to you.
Might not matter…
Samuel’s was on the edge of reaming out his second in command but he held his temper and waited.
Looks like he’s about to die of happiness…
A hand on Samuels’ arm distracted him from pursuing Rinj’s cryptic statement.
“Sir, the bridge has been taken, the humans will be cut off. They’ve got boats patrolling close in but I expect they’ll be coming this way soon enough.”
“Thanks, Jonas. You and Bill, go find the humans. Get them to safety with as few casualties as possible.”
“Rendezvous point at alpha murray?”
“Yeah. We’ll have pickup arranged by the time you get there. Hold tight.” That was a promise he felt confident in rendering. The only problem was… could they get rescuers there before sunrise?
That thought had obviously crossed his lieutenant’s mind but he only said, “Yessir,” and didn’t press for assurances.
“And, Jonas? I’d take it as a special favor if you saw to Captain Reese’s security for me.”
The man nodded he understand his assignment and left to reconnoiter with the humans.
Samuels regretted he could not see to the woman’s safety personally. But he needed to discover exactly what forces Trinity had brought to the field. This was way more than a few dis-satisfied young bucks looking to put notches on their stakes.
Rinj and the others had warned him about the risks to coming in a group to New Orleans. With so much instability in their own backyard it should have come as no surprise that the cancer had spread to their second most important Haven.
He’d been lured here by his ego and arrogance, prepared to put on a good show and make a statement. Whoever was behind this was shitting blue bricks at the thought of Damien taking over the subculture venues in the Big Apple, and they didn’t mind letting him and the rest of the Council know of their displeasure.
That meant getting Damien back safely and getting him up to Gotham alive and kicking. Then he would see how the pieces fell together.
He took two long strides and cleared the canal in a single leap. A small neighborhood of vacation cottages, most still buttoned up that early in the season, loomed to his right. He angled to the southwest, loping through the barren yards, circling to come up behind whoever held the bridge.
He needed names but faces would do.
Damn, he wished he could fly…
The vehicle sat at an angle to the sandy road, about fifty yards upstream of the bridge. Some debris had showered around the sedan but it didn’t look as if the fireworks had wreaked any damage.
Magda stayed to the marshy side, dodging around brush and the occasional tree, until she came parallel with the car. Two men stood near the trunk, arguing in what sounded like Spanish. She could hear them just fine but she didn’t habla the language well enough to catch more than a word or two.
Damien was either in the trunk or on the back seat. She couldn’t risk putting out feelers just in case the vamps had that particular skill set. Most didn’t but there was no way to tell in advance.
She’d planned on taking out the vehicle knowing that she might be stranded, with Damien still comatose and sunrise not all that far off. Her plan, such as it was, involved spending the day with her Sire immersed in a cesspool of slimy water, dodging outboard props and fish hooks. Despite the amusement value with having Damien freak out over his phobia, it didn’t take a genius to realize that wasn’t a very good first choice.
The two vamps were powerful, probably older than her, and looked like they’d had military training at
some point. Body carriage and impressive personal arsenals gave that away.
Who are these guys anyway? They aren’t local talent. What the hell has Samuels gotten us into?
If there’d been only one she might have considered immobilizing him with a little interrogation thrown in now that her curiosity was aroused. But the numbers didn’t add up in her favor, nor was time on her side.
She glanced toward what remained of the bridge, hoping against hope that Smithy had made it and was lurking somewhere ready to jump in. Her gut told her otherwise and that made her madder than hell.
She unsnapped the vest, spreading it so it hung open, the pockets and throwing stars readily accessible. The Sig sat low on her hip. Removing it from the holster, she chambered a round carefully, cringing at the distinctive click.
The men paused their chatter and looked toward the remains of the bridge, reaching for their weapons.
Striding out of the darkness she grinned, fangs fully extended, and said, “Hello boys, were you waiting for me?”
CHAPTER EIGHT
Debriefing
Pouting in the corner, Catrina shifted from one foot to another in a jerky rhythm that sent her dreadlocked tubes whipping about her shoulders.
Clack, clack, clack.
Rinj gave Samuels a look, then turned to the girl and said, “Come with me, my dear. I believe we have some unfinished business.” She muttered something in a guttural tongue that left no doubt about what she thought of that idea. Rinj laughed, genuinely amused. “I’m not sure that’s possible but I’m willing to fi—” His voice cut off as the wall unit eased shut.
Samuels looked about the living room, not bothering to mask his relief. His gaze settled on Reese momentarily, then moved on to Magda. The rest of the human team had been debriefed and sent to patrol the area until backup arrived. His own men sheltered in a safe house nearby, recuperating. Smithy was the worst off but the others suffered infrared burns also.
He’d kept his promise but it had been a near thing.
Magda said, “I don’t think coming back to Damien’s place was wise. We aren’t nearly secure enough…”
The Council head interrupted, “It’s secure. Trust me.” He settled in a leather recliner, his face etched with weariness. “Let’s wrap this up. We need rest and then we need to get the hell out of Dodge.”
“You still want to drag Damien to Gotham, after all this?” Magda slurred the words, her body close to surrender to the daylight.
Reese stared in defiance at Samuels and agreed with Magda. “She’s right. The elder escaped your noose. If you take Damien, you’ll open us up to every fringe group from Houston to Shreveport.”
“Jensen will stay and assume temporary control. The situation will be handled.”
Magda sneered at that suggestion.
He’s a fucking accountant. You can’t be serious.
He’s also a fucking ex-la basse police. Do not underestimate the man, my dear. And whatever you do, never turn your back on him…
Samuels stretched his long frame and glanced at Reese. She nodded and rose from the couch, taking her leave.
“I’ll be with you shortly, Captain. I just need a word with Magda.”
When Reese shut the door quietly, Samuels gave his undivided attention to the lean woman sitting in rigid defiance across from him. She looked oddly androgynous, all angles and planes, pale skin framing wide, luminous, angry eyes. Lethal in ways his men would never understand, let alone match, she exuded sensuality and danger—an almost irresistible allure. How Damien had managed to secure the loyalty of this warrior and a sideshow freak would require contemplation, an exercise for later, for when he was more alert, more focused.
I’m asking how… but perhaps I should be asking why.
Silence hung heavy in the narrow space between them. Finally Magda broke the stand-off. “He won’t hurt her, will he?”
“The girl?” Odd that she was more concerned about her than her Sire.
Peeved, Magda spit out, “Of course the girl. And her name’s Catrina.”
Samuels grinned. “Yes, I know. As well as I know my own name. And it’s not ‘fuckwad’, not unless you have plans…?” He liked watching the tiny uptick to her upper lip as she fought back chagrin at being caught out. Like all warriors she was stone cold in battle, her face a granite mask. But here, with him, her emotions, and her thoughts, betrayed her at every turn.
Exactly where do your loyalties lie, I wonder?
With effort, he pushed his aching body out of the recliner and towered over the warrior woman. “We’ll talk more tonight, Mags. Catrina will be safe with Rinj, for now.”
“If he…”
“He won’t. You have my word.” Striding to the door, he gave her one last instruction, “See to him, Mags. I need Damien back home, in my city. Last night was just the start, a mere coming attraction.”
Magda watched the power that was all that held their race safe from annihilation slip through the gap in the paneled wall.
She whispered, “Yes, I’ll take care of him. I always do, don’t I?”
****
Rinj stalked the narrow hall dividing the main eating area from their sheltered nook. Despite no longer requiring the long hours to recharge, the man liked his beauty sleep, especially when his companion provided creative entertainment.
Samuels held the door open and bid his second to enter. The sounds of diners enjoying an expensive repast, cutlery clinking, a squeal as a cart wheel jostled over the rough pine boards, the murmur of conversation, muted laughter…
He liked this space, one of the few he’d regret losing should it ever come to that. Over the centuries he’d learned not to get attached… to things, to people, even to philosophies. But here, amidst the sensory delight of aromas he could no longer appreciate except as a distant memory, he felt strangely engaged to a world that threatened to render him and his kind irrelevant.
They were few—his kind—their genetic material lost. Of all the obscene punishments, losing his ability to create, truly create from his own unfiltered DNA a replica of his gifts, his thoughts, his ambitions… that was the ultimate denial of the self.
Yet here he was, living proof it could, and did, happen. He and Damien, two brothers, not of the same blood but birthed, not hatched like specimens in a petri dish. Unique in every way. Condemned by the same fate.
Samuels shook off his destructive thoughts and motioned Rinj to sit at the round table taking up much of the room.
“Would you like something to drink, my friend?”
Rinj settled gingerly onto the thick cushion, his brow furrowed in pain.
Samuels smirked and observed, “You are wearing your gi this evening. I take it you had a pleasant…” he turned his face away, not wishing for his second to see his enjoyment at the man’s predicament, “…um, interlude?”
Rinj growled, “Bourbon, neat and make it a double.” He grimaced, then said, “Fuck that. Just bring me the bottle. And oxy, all you can dig up.”
Samuels issued a silent order and continued his train of thought, “Well, she didn’t kill you like she did that hapless human. What was his name, again?” He knew the man’s name because Reese had reamed him a new one at the loss of Lance Corporal Walkens, but he liked deviling Rinj. He hadn’t liked the price Reese enacted as payment for the loss of one of her best men and occasional lover.
Rinj wriggled in the seat, clearly uncomfortable.
“Why didn’t you stop her?” Rinj glared and gave him the bird. “Sorry, I forgot about your… appetites.”
The man looked contrite, almost embarrassed. “I couldn’t even if I’d wanted to.”
One of the human wait staff knocked politely and when Samuels bid him enter, the male sidled through the door bearing a tray service. He set it down on the table and filled two heavy crystal tumblers with a caramel-colored liquid. From his breast pocket he withdrew a plastic vial and set it at Rinj’s elbow.
“Will there be anything else, sir?�
��
“No, Marco. I think we’re all set.”
They watched the older man leave their sanctuary and turned their attention to sipping the fragrant whiskey. Rinj popped the cap on the vial and dumped the pills on the linen tablecloth. He fingered each in turn, his eyes greedy.
“Not too many of those, my friend. I need you alert, not floating in la-la-land.”
“Damn it, Samuels. You have no idea…”
“Then explain it to me.”
“I-I can’t, not exactly. I saw what she did to the human. I thought she’d just drained him, though how she managed without opening an artery I’ll never know.” He sighed. “When I got there, the man was already too far gone. I tried to stop her. But…”
“But what?”
“He didn’t want me to. He begged me not to touch her. He knew he was dying. He didn’t care.” Rinj chugged his drink and poured another. “Good Kami, he was in a place I’ve only dreamed about.”
“And so you had to test it for yourself.” Samuels’ tone indicated he thought that was beyond foolhardy, even for one as strong as his second. “You know, Rinj, she’s just been turned. She has no control whatsoever. She needs guidance, she needs to learn to curb her inhibitions.”
“That’s where you’re, we’re, all wrong. She was in perfect control, she knew exactly what she was doing. She could have stopped. She chose not to.”
“And you know this how…?”
“Because she didn’t drain me. She took me there…” His body vibrated, eyes nearly rolling back in his head, the memory so powerful he groaned in an agony of desire. “Not even you could resist. Not even you.”
Samuels hoped that wasn’t true but his second wasn’t prone to exaggeration, except in the pursuit of earthly pleasures… and pain. He asked, “Do you know why?”