Blood Unleashed (Blood Stone)

by Tracy Cooper-Posey

  “Sweet Jesus. Me, too,” Marcus said. “You’re one stubborn son of a bitch, Ricky.”

  Rick growled and lifted his head. “You dare use that name!”

  Marcus shrugged. “Stop me, oh powerful one.”

  Rick surged up from the bed, rolling over Ilaria, to pin Marcus down, his hands on each shoulder. He looked at Ilaria. “I’ll keep him still. You drive him mad.”

  She grinned. “That’s wicked.” She reached between their hips and stroked Marcus cock, which was stiffening and elongating already. Then she smiled to herself and gripped Rick with her other hand and stroked in time with her left hand. He hissed in reaction, and his hips thrust. Marcus groaned. “She’s taking advantage of us both.”

  Rick’s eyes were half closed, but he smiled slowly. “You would allow a chit of a woman like her to do that?”

  “Hell, no,” Marcus growled, “but you’re the one on my fucking shoulders.”

  Rick moved. Ilaria was fast, but Rick was faster. He leapt on her, flipping her over so she was on her stomach on the bed. He picked up her hips, lifting her so she was propped on her knees. His hands spread her knees and a shiver of delight slid through her.

  Then Marcus lifted her head, his hand under her chin and she knew she was going to be skewered from both ends.

  Happy anticipation made her salivate as the pair of them drove into her, claiming her. Filling her.

  She was exactly where she had chosen to be.

  Chapter Thirty-Two

  Marcus could feel tiredness dragging at him as they walked downstairs just over an hour after they had pulled Ilaria into the bedroom. Tiredness and a deep contentedness. He ignored the tiredness. Some more coffee and he’d be good to go.

  There were even more people in the room than before, including one Marcus recognized with a jolt. Patrick Sauvage stood next to Nial. He looked pale, but a lot taller than Marcus had thought him to be. Oddly, he didn’t seem as large across the shoulders as he had always appeared to be on film. His muscles were no more well developed than Marcus’. In the flesh, his magnetic presence that dominated the screen seemed to be missing.

  Nial introduced them and Marcus shook his hand. Patrick gave him a warm smile. “It’s hard to get used to all this, isn’t it?” he asked.

  “All what – vampire stuff?”

  “Yes, exactly.” Patrick’s smile grew even warmer.

  “But you’re...aren’t you a vampire?”

  “I am now,” Patrick told him. “But I had a year of wandering around going ‘what does that mean?’ every time they opened their mouths. It’s hard to catch up on thousands of years of experience.”

  “Tell me about it,” Marcus muttered.

  “You’re with Cyneric and Ilaria, aren’t you?”

  “I...ah...yes.” The question, put so bluntly, had caught him by surprise. It was the first time he had been asked about this very new relationship and the first time he had confirmed it aloud.

  Patrick considered him. “You must be a very special person, for two vampires to want you in their lives.”

  Marcus blinked. “I hadn’t thought of it that way.”

  “I don’t think Kate has either.” Patrick grinned, showing even and very white teeth. “But I think she is one of the most unique people I’ve ever had the fortune to meet. Working with her was a dream. So I am looking forward to getting to know you, Mr. Anderson.”

  “Marcus,” he correctly automatically, bemused.

  Sasha tapped him on the shoulder, dragging his attention away from Patrick Sauvage. Patrick smiled easily. “I’ll let you meet everyone else.” He walked away, leaving Marcus with Sasha and Nial, who had listened unabashedly to the entire conversation. Nial wore a small smile. “He has that effect on people,” he assured Marcus. “Until you get to know him better.”

  “What, is he an asshole when you get to know him?” Marcus asked.

  “He’s one of the most genuine people I’ve ever met. Patrick has had to face himself and his demons most of his life. It’s had an interesting effect.” Nial looked at Sasha. “Major Mikhailov,” he acknowledged. “We didn’t get a chance to speak, earlier. Marcus vouched for you.”

  “Please. I am Sasha.” He looked over to where Patrick was speaking to Winter. “That is the Iron Duke, isn’t it?”

  The Iron Duke was one of the characters Patrick had played in about six action adventure movies so far. It was a globally successful franchise. Even Marcus had slipped into the cinema to watch the last two movies. They had been pretty decent.

  “That’s Patrick Sauvage,” Nial confirmed.

  “He is a vampire? How did this not come out in your newspapers before now?” Sasha asked.

  “He wasn’t a vampire before now,” Nial replied easily. “Major, Marcus assures me you know about the existence of vampires, so you are here under his protection, but it is with the understanding that the same secrecy applies to this meeting as you would apply to one of your GRU committee meetings.”

  “Of course,” Sasha said, with an incline of his head. “I understand secrecy very well.”

  Nial raised his voice. “Everyone…”

  The room fell silent as everyone turned to face Nial. Marcus stepped back so he wasn’t standing in the middle of the room with his back to everyone. Sasha took up position next to him.

  “Thank you for returning at the appointed hour,” Nial said. “Given the latest developments, it’s time to hold a fast strategy session and to bring you all up to date. We need to move quickly.”

  Ilaria was sitting with Winter and Kate. Next to those two women, she looked small and delicate, but she did not appear to be intimidated by the company she was keeping. She had been doing most of the talking since they had entered the room and Winter had snagged her attention.

  “Major Mikhailov,” Nial said. “It’s time for you to explain how you came to be here.”

  Sasha stepped forward and gave a short nod of his head to everyone there. “Like Marcus, I am in intelligence. I am GRU, based in Moscow. Five days ago, I was alerted by our computer experts that someone based in Los Angeles had hacked into our archives and had read certain files concerning the death of my sister three years ago. She was also GRU. The files are top secret, but they are not considered important and the matter has been officially closed, so my superiors were puzzled by the unauthorized access, but not alarmed.”

  “No one should have been able to detect any trace of me,” Rick said. “I’ve hacked into Russian databases many times and not stirred a single alarm.”

  Sasha gave a small smile. “We have got much better at electronic surveillance in the last few years. We caught you, did we not?”

  “So Rick’s probing was spotted,” Nial said. “And they sent you?”

  “I asked to be sent.” Sasha grimaced. “I had thought that the only person in Los Angeles who would be interested in my sister’s files would be my friend Marcus Anderson, whom my sister loved. But he is CIA, so it was possible he was looking for official reasons. I came here to investigate the address the DNS number gave us. There was a name – Adrian Xerus. But that was not the man I found at that address. Instead, I found Marcus.”

  “Adrian Xerus is the name Roman is using at the moment,” Nial said. “You asked to speak to me when you found Marcus. Why is that?”

  Sasha glanced at Marcus. “I was surprised to find my friend in the company of vampires. At the GRU, vampires are acknowledged fact, but it is a most secret fact. The GRU has been monitoring vampires for several years while they decided what to do about them. There are very many vampires in Russia.” He glanced around the room. “I have not met vampires before, but I owe a great debt to Marcus, for reasons that lay between us two alone. Because Marcus is with you, I must warn you. The GRU and Russian military do not like the veiled threat that so many powerful people represent. There is a fear there that if vampires were to gather and organize, they would be too great a threat to contain. They are planning a pre-emptive strike against vampires. Th
eir plans are nearly complete.”

  “Rick?” Nial asked.

  Rick stirred on his feet. He was standing by Garrett, near the door that led onto the central stairwell. “It’s typical Russian thinking,” he said, “driven by generations of paranoia and revolution. We could warn the Russian-based blood and they could take steps to minimize the effect of the strike. Vampires have infiltrated even the GRU. There’s one problem, though.”

  “Those vampires who are in positions of power are most likely members of the Pro Libertatus,” Nial finished. He glanced around the room. “I believe the time is here when we must step over the division between the Libertatus and us. Heru has been defeated, his slave and pet assassin removed from him and thanks to Rick and Marcus, a large number of his League members are dead.”

  “Heru doesn’t like defeat,” Rick said. “He will be angry and he will hit back ten times harder than the blow we have dealt him.”

  The people in the room stirred uneasily, looking at each other. Ilaria looked afraid.

  “Will he use the Blood Stone?” Nial asked, voicing the question everyone was thinking.

  Marcus knew, now, what the Blood Stone was. Rick had explained to him the history and the potential of the doomsday weapon.

  Rick paused for a good long moment before answering. “Heru is capable of using it,” he said at last. “He will not care about the consequences. He will focus only on the power it will give him. He never could see too far into the future.”

  “But will he use it? Has he been provoked enough?” Nial insisted.

  “I don’t know,” Rick said flatly.

  “I warned the Libertatus about the pyrrhus,” Nial said. “That threat has been lifted, but we are working under a threat of a different scale, now. For the present we do nothing more to provoke Heru. Is that understood?” He was looking directly at Rick and his gaze shifted to Marcus. “Marcus, you need to talk to your people. They should know, too.”

  Marcus nodded his agreement, although the idea of him bringing McLaren up to speed on vampire activities was a startling one. How quickly things had changed! “Should I wake people up, or can it wait until tomorrow?” he asked Nial.

  Nial hesitated. “Tonight,” he finally decided. “By tomorrow, Heru will have had another eight hours head start on whatever he might be planning next.”

  Marcus fished out his cellphone from his pocket. “I’ll step outside and call,” he said.

  Rick followed him out onto the verandah and sat on one of the wicker chairs there, a still black form in the dark. His presence and silent support was reassuring. Marcus leaned against the stone half-wall and dialed McLaren’s private cellphone number. This was the second time he had used it in the last few weeks.

  The phone rang out, as it had the last time. Patiently, Marcus dialed again. It flipped to voicemail again. Marcus disconnected and dialed again. McLaren didn’t have his phone turned off, so he would notice the calls coming in one after another. He would eventually pick up just to stop the interruptions. Marcus didn’t think he would be asleep.

  On the fourth try, McLaren answered. “This had been be spectacular, Anderson,” he growled. “I’m in the middle of a field operation here.”

  There was only one active unit in the division office. Marcus and his team directed and passively controlled local assets only. For McLaren to be involved in a field operation, meant that the vampire unit was active.

  “On American soil?” Marcus asked, amazed.

  “Vampires are considered alien residents of the United States. There have been developments since you last graced us with your presence,” McLaren snapped back. “So spit it out, Anderson. I don’t have time.”

  “I’ve become involved in vampire activities here in the city,” Marcus said. It was a massive understatement and a huge over-simplification, too. “I’ve learned something tonight I thought I had better pass along.”

  He could almost hear McLaren’s abrupt shift in attention. Perhaps he’d even stopped moving. “What have you heard?” he asked. “And remember this is an open communication thread.”

  “There is a vampire in the city, called Menes Heru. He’s very old. Ancient old. So he doesn’t think like modern people. He has a doomsday weapon, McLaren.”

  “Christ, you’re about twelve hours behind the news,” McLaren snarled. “Where the fuck do you think I am?”

  Coldness gripped Marcus around the middle. “Who is your source?” he asked. “Who fingered Heru?”

  “That is none of—”

  “He’ll blow the fucking city up, McLaren!” Marcus shouted and Rick stiffened. McLaren was silent.

  “You have to understand,” Marcus urged him. “Heru doesn’t care about humans. He just wants to dominate other vampires. He’s not going to think about the millions of people here. It won’t make him hesitate. You’re wading into the middle of one of the most dangerous civil wars in the history of the world, McLaren, and you might think you know what you’re doing, but I guarantee you don’t. You rushing in on Heru confirms that you have no fucking idea at all.”

  Silence.

  “Pull your team out,” Marcus begged. “Wait until you know the full score.”

  “You’ve already proved your information is old, Anderson. Don’t use this number again.”

  There was no click of disconnection. Just the bland dial tone.

  Marcus turned and leaned on his hands, breathing hard. “Do you know where Heru is?” he asked Rick.

  “One of the remaining League locations,” Rick said quietly. “A warehouse in south central L.A. A private house belonging to the head of their human cadre. A shipping container in the rail yards—”

  “It won’t be the yards,” Marcus muttered.

  “Heru would not deign to accommodate himself in such rough quarters,” Rick agreed.

  Marcus strode inside. “Ilaria!”

  His bellow caught everyone’s attention. Nial straightened up from leaning over to speak to the woman they called Kurshid to look at him. “What has happened?”

  “The CIA is moving in on Heru. Tonight. Now. They’ve got their own source of information.”

  “Pro Libertatus, most likely,” Rick said, from behind him.

  Nial nodded.

  “But they think they’re moving in on the pyrrhus,” Marcus pointed out. “That’s the last thing you told the Libertatus. They don’t know about the Blood Stone.”

  Roman moved closer. “You don’t want that thing unleashed,” he said, his voice low and heavy with warning. “You have to stop him.”

  Nial stared off into the middle distance. “That’s a tall order. There will be CIA and all manner of humans around him, if they find him where they think he is.”

  “Ilaria!” Marcus called again and waved her to him.

  She stepped into the center of the ring of men standing in the middle of the room and looked at him.

  “Where is Heru?” he asked. “Where did you go to report in?”

  She frowned. “There is a house. In Baldwin village, near the airport—”

  “I have the address. That’s the human’s house,” Rick said.

  Marcus put his hand on Ilaria’s shoulder. “Ilaria is how you reach out to Heru, Nial. If Ilaria shoots a shell loaded with pyrrhus, it will kill him. I guarantee it.”

  Nial blinked. “I didn’t say kill him.”

  “How else do you intend to stop him?” Rick said reasonably. “This CIA raid will push him into retaliation, and if it doesn’t, the next event will. He’s losing, Nial. The League is disintegrating around him, and humans are closing in. He’s cornered. You have to kill him before he uses the one last weapon he has left, the one he thinks will solve all his problems.”

  “Cyneric is quite correct, Nathanial,” Kurshid said from her comfortable chair. “You only have one choice. You must kill him.”

  Nial spun to face her. “There is no other way?”

  “Events have conspired against you, Nathanial,” she said. “You have run
out of time. We all have. He must be killed.”

  Chapter Thirty-Three

  Ilaria checked through the scope, her forefinger curled over the trigger guard.

  “All set, Ilaria?” Marcus’ voice asked softly in her ear.

  “We’re all set up here,” Kate said, from behind Ilaria. “Very clear sight lines. This building was a good choice.”

  “Ilaria is the one that chose it,” Rick said. He was on the ground with Marcus and the rest. Kate and Winter were standing at the other windows, flanking Ilaria on either side. Ilaria lay on the battered table they had pulled up to the window, the Timberwolf she had borrowed from Sebastian snuggled up against her shoulder. The Timberwolf sniper rifle was her rifle of choice. This one was a borrowed gun, but the Timberwolf was such a precision instrument, she was confident that she would be able to hit her target without needing a spare. All the same, there were five of Marcus’ pyrrhus filled cartridges in the box – he had drilled into the tips of the cartridges Sebastian had on hand, then filled the centers with pyrrhus, using the tools and equipment in Nial’s well-equipped basement.

  Once Ilaria had indicated which window she wanted to use, Winter had broken into the appropriate apartment, picking the lock with speedy skill. They were on the third floor of the building, a quarter mile away from the noise, lights and chaos surrounding the small bungalow on the street perpendicular to this one. Ilaria’s view ran straight down the street the bungalow was sited on. Laid out below her, blocking all access to the bungalow and most of the houses on either side and across the road from it, was a blanket of cars, vans, trucks and more, most of them with lights revolving.

  There were people everywhere. “I see FBI jackets down there,” she said. Marcus had assured her the ear bud would pick up her normal voice and distribute it to everyone else.