by D McEntire
Setting down his glass, Tank began to tell his Cell-mates about his dreams, only revealing the disturbing ones.
"I've been having dreams about her, about Sonya. In each one Sonya is reaching out to me, calling for help. She's afraid of something, and I can feel her pain. Physical pain." Tank gazed around the table, not seeing anything but concern and interest on their faces. "There's a mist. It's so thick I can't make out where she is. At the end of the dream she always says someone is coming, but it's evident that someone isn't coming to her rescue."
"Wow, that's spooky," Robyn said wide-eyed as she stood to retrieve a pitcher of sweetened iced tea from the kitchen counter. "So, you think Sonya's in trouble?" She asked, walking around the table to refill empty glasses.
Tank placed his elbows on the table and rubbed his temples. "I don't know what it means, that's why I'm bringing it to you all. I have a strong feeling in my gut she's in some sort of danger, but I don't know from what, where or from whom."
He shook his head, then allowed it to fall back on his chair as he closed his eyes. Anxiety welled inside. He was the commander of a Cell of Watchers and usually knew what to do. Not this time, and it aggravated him to feel as if he were spinning his wheels.
"What about the concert you were asking about? Why don't you check it out? See if you can pick up anything? Perhaps if you're around her physically, you might get more clues as to what's going on, if anything."
Tank nodded at Kern's suggestion. "Yeah, that's probably the only thing I can do right now." He hated to second-guess himself. Hated being unsure of anything.
"You want one of us to tag along?" Trigg asked as he chewed.
Tank was grateful the warrior didn't say the word need as if implying he couldn't work this out on his own. That was one thing his ego didn't need right now.
"No. I don't think it'll be necessary. Besides, this could turn out to be nothing." Tank tried to sound unconcerned, but inside he wanted to roar. An inner voice unwavering in its warning that the clock was ticking, sounded once again, and he was still sitting on his ass, doing nothing but yapping about his weird dreams.
The fax machine buzzed then chimed the customary tones when the call connected. Tank wiped his mouth on his napkin, stood and tossed it on his chair, then made his way to the office. When he walked through the door, the machine had just finished receiving the data, and a white sheet of paper rolled out onto the paper tray.
Tank picked up the fax and scanned its contents, then puffed out a breath. Things just keep getting better and better. He turned on his heels and stalked out of the office, taking their new orders from Headquarters to the kitchen to lay out news sure to make everyone's evening.
"Love letters from Headquarters?" Vane asked around a bite of mashed potatoes.
"Seems we're being called in to assist another Cell."
"Where is it this time?" Trigg asked in a tone laced with disgust.
Many Watchers hated to go to other Cells, which Tank totally understood. Not knowing the area was bad enough. Putting your life in the hands of someone you don't know well, or maybe had never even met, was not comforting in the least. They were all on the same team, but it didn't mean everyone's skills were up-to-par.
"The Cell in Bardstown needs assistance in a planned raid on an old estate. It's scheduled for tomorrow evening." Tank turned to Kern. "Kern, they want two Watchers, which will leave me pretty short-handed here."
Tank knew Kern had been working on his training, as well as his mental state. Experiencing eight months of torture had taken a hard toll both physically and mentally on the warrior.
"If there are no objections, I'd like Vane and Trigg to head to Bardstown. Kern, you'll stay and help me with the second order of business from our friends at Headquarters."
Tank knew the guys were going to be irked at what he was going to say next. "Seems we have to do some training..."
"Don't tell me they're sending out some twits..." Trigg growled.
"WITs, Trigg. They're called WITS. Watchers in Training," Tank corrected, trying hard not to laugh at Trigg's endearment for the newbies.
Trigg waved his hand. "Yeah, whatever. No matter what you call them, it's babysitting, and it's a pain in the ass."
Robyn laughed and ran her hand up and down Trigg's back, trying to soothe his agitation, but it didn't diminish his scowl.
"Well, like I said, you and Vane will be in Bardstown so you won't have to deal with them, that is, unless they're still here when you get back. Now, the missive says you two are needed only for the one mission. There's been a surge in Rogue activity around the downtown area, and the Cell's discovered their hole."
"They must be in town for the tour of historic homes," Robyn said with a smile as she took a bite of her dinner.
"Or shopping," Rosa added, laughing loudly before she sobered. "Man, I wish I were there. I'd love to go shopping." Her mouth turned into a pout.
Vane leaned over and kissed her. "You always want to go shopping, mi dulce," he answered, his lips hovering above hers.
"Can we get back on track here, people?" Tank said a little louder than necessary in order to get everyone's attention. "Are we settled then? Anyone have anything else?"
No further business was brought forth, Tank adjourned the meeting, and they finished their dinner. Afterwards, the guys expressed their thanks to Robyn for another delicious meal, then vacated the dining room to gear up for a stroll around town before Trigg and Vane left for Bardstown.
The night air definitely had one hell of a bite, Tank thought as he, Trigg and Kern climbed out of the SUV. He'd chosen the black 2008 Cadillac SRX because of the five foot sunroof, which stretched all the way to the last row of seats, not to mention there was enough seating inside for seven passengers. Watchers were not small men and needed the legroom.
The lights from Vane's black Mercedes shown briefly in Tank's eyes as the Watcher parked behind the SUV. Tank had figured they'd have at least a half hour wait while the warrior dropped Rosa off at the lounge where she sang. He should have known, he told himself, that he wouldn't have to wait long thanks to the warrior's lead foot.
"Since it's Friday night, we'll head over to Fourth Street. Most likely it'll be packed with people, which means Rogues will be casing the place for dinner. Let's get to it, gentlemen."
Leading his Cell-mates, Tank headed in the direction of the sounds and smells of one of the liveliest spots in downtown Louisville.
The covered street, known as Fourth Street Live, was lined on each side by bars, restaurants and shops. Music blared while accompanying video played on large screen televisions hung high on poles for viewing by patrons.
"Vane, Trigg, you two take the establishments on the right. Kern and I will take the left. Keep your comlinks open, and don't take any unnecessary chances. If there are more than the two of you can handle, or shall I say should handle, call for backup. Got it?"
When Trigg gave him a mock salute before walking away, Tank couldn't stop his low growl at the Watcher's flippant attitude. He wanted to choke the Watcher, but reminded himself that was merely Trigg's way. Though the warrior still had a ways to go, he'd managed to change somewhat for the better since meeting his mate, Robyn.
Kern tried to stifle a laugh, but was unsuccessful. Tank glared at him. "Come on," he said through gritted teeth, then turned and headed for the bowling alley located near the end of the street. Though he planned on patrolling this evening until the crowds dissipated after closing time, he wasn't naive enough to think they could protect them all. Especially when the humans and civilian vampires left the area and were out of their line of sight.
When Tank entered the bowling alley, he immediately found himself bombarded by flashing lights, loud, thumping music and choking cigarette smoke and grimaced. The place looked more like a bar than a bowling alley, he told himself as he tried to adjust to the sound of base-heavy music pumped through speakers hung high on the walls and a disco light flashing sparkles of color across the ceiling
and glossy bowling lanes.
The pounding beginning behind his eyes threatened to bring him to his knees, but he trudged forward, weaving his way through the crowd and ignoring the crashing sound of bowling balls striking pins.
The stench of blood and evil hit him like a brick--Rogues. Turning to Kern, he saw from the expression on the Watcher's face the warrior had also caught the scent.
Quickly pushing through the crowd in the direction of where the scent emanated, he caught sight of three Rogues standing in the corner, hovering over a table of women who were laughing and falling for the flirtation and false charm. If only they saw through the mask. It would certainly make things easier. Humans wouldn't allow themselves to be led into the shadows of desolate places and fall prey to the crazed killers. But, that will never happen, he told himself as he prepared himself for confrontation amidst the crowd.
Drawing nearer, he noticed one of the Rogues look up. The smile he wore faded instantly as he elbowed the Rogue next to him.
"Well, look who's here, Kern," Tank drawled with a bright, toothy smile at the Rogues. "Seems like we've just bumped into some old pals of ours."
Tank made sure the Rogues understood his smile was anything but congenial. It held a promise. A promise of the battle to the death--theirs.
The women glanced at Tank and Kern, their eyes wide before turning to the Rogues for reassurance. Tank couldn't blame them. On one side stood three charming, seemingly harmless men, and on the other stood two tall, muscular warriors.
With that in mind, Tank glanced at his Cell-mate standing beside him. Kern looked intimidating with faded blue jeans, tight, navy blue T-shirt pulled over a white thermal knit shirt and black boots. Shoulder length, dark hair made the warrior's piercing, blue eyes stand out like shinning, cold sapphires. That gaze now bore into the Rogues like daggers.
Tank didn't doubt he looked even more dangerous, with skin black as night, but with an odd glow other Watchers had often commented about seemed to shimmer as he moved. He topped Kern by several inches, which said a lot. Not one for casual clothing, he wore his normal attire--black leather pants, black T-shirt stretched tight over his muscular chest and arms, and black shit-kickers. The long, black leather coat he sported flared as he walked.
For a moment, Tank considered removing his sunglasses as he figured the dark shades were not helping to ease the human females, then thought twice about it knowing his strangely colored eyes would only make their fears worse.
One of the Rogues gave the women a feigned apologetic look, then murmured he and the others would return in few minutes. "We need to talk to our friends. Don't go anywhere. We promised another round of drinks before walking you ladies to your car."
Tank inclined his head and spoke directly to the women in a mannerly tone in an attempt to soften the obvious impression they had of him and Kern. "Yes, ladies. Please excuse us for a moment, and I apologize for the interruption. It's a matter of life and death." While speaking the last part, he gave a pointed glance at the Rogues while sporting a knowing smile.
Relief inched its way into his mind at the Rogues' willingness to take this battle outside and away from witnesses. He didn't need the headache of the bloodsuckers starting a brawl in the bowling alley, among the humans, creating exposure he didn't have time to deal with. He hated to think of how exhausting it would be to wipe the memory of everyone in the establishment.
Stepping aside, he followed the Rogues through the crowd and out the rear exit, but as soon as he and Kern cleared the door, it slammed shut behind them. He turned to see five additional Rogues in the alley. They stepped up to flank the three he and Kern had followed outside.
Christ. He should have known, Tank mentally scowled. A fourth Rogue had evidently slipped out and alerted others.
Smiling at the line of Rogues, Tank didn't allow their number to affect him in the slightest, recalling many times he'd single handedly fought more than stood before him now. "Well, well. I'm glad your friends could join us. The more the merrier, I say."
Tank glanced at Kern. Though the warrior didn't speak, he nodded in agreement. Tank could tell the Watcher silently observed the situation to get a feel for their opponents and gear up for the fight.
"You didn't think we were going to let you keep us from our dates, did you?" the Rogue who'd spoken to them in the bowling alley snarled. "We have three beautiful ladies at our table, and we wouldn't want to keep them waiting."
Unsheathing his weapon, Tank heard the soft ring of Kern's as he did the same. He assumed his battle stance. Ready for the fight, he waited for the Rogues to make the first move.
In the blink of an eye, the Rogues advanced in unison, baring fangs and claws, eager to sink them into Watcher flesh.
Turning in a single fluid motion, Tank lashed out with a long, sharp dagger in each hand. One blade found its mark, slicing through the abdomen of a Rogue. The bloodsucker staggered in agony as he pressed his hand to the gaping wound, unable to staunch the flow of blood. Within moments, the vampire lay face down on the ground.
Tank glanced at Kern and found the Watcher holding his own without any obvious difficulty. Before leaving the cell, he'd had some reservations about asking the warrior to patrol with them tonight as it hadn't been long since Kern and Marie had come to their Cell. Watching the warrior block the set of claws slashing toward his face and throat, he realized his concerns were unwarranted. Kern ducked, then struck in low with his knife, sending another bloodsucker to the ground.
Tank couldn't help but smile as Kern continued without hesitation to face another Rogue. A true warrior to the core, he thought of the Watcher, and nothing could take that away from him.
"Damn. Looks like we almost missed the fun."
Tank heard Trigg's drawl from the end of the alley. The Watcher's feigned disappointed tone was followed by a remark from Vane.
"I think my feelings are hurt. No one invited us to this party."
Tank chanced a glance to the end of the alley to see Trigg standing with legs apart and hands on his hips while Vane leaned against the brick wall of the bowling alley with arms crossed over his chest.
Ducking another swipe at his head, Tank bit out a retort. "Well, you're invited now. Get the lead out of your asses and help us dust these assholes. I've got better things to do than dance with these goons all night."
After a moment of laughter erupted from both Trigg and Vane, they joined in the fight. Tank listened to the other warriors' grunts, and the scraping of boots and shoes against the asphalt until the noise level slowly died down to nothing but the sounds of heavy breathing.
Sheathing his daggers, Tank took in the sight of several piles of ashes, the only evidence the Rogues had ever existed.
The single clap of hands had him turning to see Kern rubbing his hands together, then brush Rogue dust from his shirt. When Kern straightened, the pleased expression on the Watcher's face forced a laugh from Tank's throat.
"Looks like you enjoyed that, Kern," Tank said as he slapped the warrior on the back then squeezed his shoulder. "Glad to have you with us, brother. You've made an excellent addition to our team."
He meant it. Not only was he thankful the Watcher had been saved from months of hell in captivity, but the presence of Kern and his mate at the Cell seemed to have added to the already growing family atmosphere there.
"Thanks for the opportunity. Time I got back into the game and let me tell you, it felt good."
"Come across any more Rogues?" Tank asked, turning to Trigg and Vane.
"We caught a whiff of a couple in the bar, but they disappeared out the back."
The remainder of the evening's patrol was relatively quiet. Only a few additional Rogues made their appearance and were quickly dusted. All in all, it was a productive evening, Tank thought. More importantly, Kern had shown the warrior had returned with a vengeance.
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Chapter Three
"Time to head to Bardstown," Vane said with a sigh as he
walked toward the kitchen for a snack, just as Tank had predicted the warrior would do as soon as they stepped into the house from patrolling the city's streets.
"You ridin' with me, amigo?"
Vane's voice was muffled from where his head was inside the refrigerator.
"Yeah, I sure as hell ain't ridin' you on my bike."
The vision from Trigg's barked remark almost made Tank laugh.
"Ah, amigo, why not? I've always wanted to be a biker bitch."
Vane's retort managed to release the chuckle Tank had been holding.
When Rosa approached the kitchen, Tank stepped aside to allow her entry. He watched her playfully push Vane away from the fridge, then take his place at checking the contents inside. Even from where he stood Tank felt heat radiating from his brother as the man eyeballed the backside of his mate. And from the way Vane clenched and unclenched his hands, he knew the man itched to settle them upon the firm, rounded globes outlined beneath the pair of pink cotton pajama pants.
Tank imagined how he'd feel in that situation. He had no doubt the material of his pants would cause some major pain to the hard-on he'd sport if a woman like that presented her goods close enough for the taking.
"Tank, you hungry?"
Deep in thought, not over the scene before him, but the one playing out in his head, Tank vaguely heard his name being called, until it was practically barked.
He blinked to find three sets of gazes upon him. Then he noticed the Saran wrapped plate of lunchmeat and cheese Rose held out in front of her.
"Sorry. What?"
"Are you hungry?"
After Tank shook his head, he shifted in an effort to ease the erection caused by his wayward thoughts. Chancing a glance down at the front of his pants, he was relieved to find the dark leather seemed to be doing a good job at masking the evidence.
Leaning against the doorframe, he watched Vane sit heavily on one of the kitchen chairs, blowing out an exaggerated sigh as if it had been a long, grueling night. Just as he'd expected her to do, Rosa rolled her eyes. The woman knew her mate well, he mused.