by D McEntire
The old sanatorium stretched out in two long sections flanking an equally long middle section. Every window was either damaged or completely missing. Even from the outside Tank could see plaster hanging from the ceilings and graffiti covering the walls, but the Rogues and the human females were nowhere in sight.
Tank flipped off the headlights and drove slowly to the side of the building, not wanting to alert any Rogues of their presence. The deal with Sonya didn't have him completely out of his mind enough to go striding through the front door.
Exiting the SUV, he quietly closed the door. To his surprise, the two newbies did the same without needing to be warned not to be stupid and slam them.
Tank tried a door on the side of the building. Finding it unlocked, he took the lead and motioned for the two newbies to follow behind Kern. Once inside, he stopped and pointed at the floor, silently warning everyone to watch where they stepped, knowing crackling glass or other debris under their feet was a sure way to announce their presence.
Dust scattered as he led them down the long hallway. The stale, musty air was strong and thick. It assaulted his nostrils. When his brain registered the source irritating his nose, he froze and held up his hand to stop the other Watchers before they ran into him.
Soggy plaster. Tank realized the scent to be the same he'd picked up in the last dream of Sonya.
"What's up?"
Tank took in a deep breath before answering Kern's question.
"She's here, somewhere." Motioning to continue forward, he approached a closed door at the end of the hall. Leaning against it, he listened and caught a whistled tune on the other side.
Slowly, he turned the knob. His relief at finding the door unlocked and the fact force would not be necessary to open it dissipated as the rusty hinges let out a loud squeak as soon as the door moved.
Just as he feared, the whistling abruptly halted. Tank knew they would soon be discovered as the element of surprise had been compromised. Time to move even though he had no idea how many Rogues were in the building, he told himself.
With a hard yank, the door opened to a set of stairs, which Tank descended in a rush. Reaching the bottom, he wrenched open a second door. It hit the wall with a bang. Once inside, Kern flanked him, and the newbies stood a few feet behind.
"What's with all the noise? Can't you just...?" a voice called moments before a Rogue entered the room. The vamp didn't' finish his sentence. He stared wide-eyed at the sight of the four Watchers standing before him.
"Where. Is. She?" Tank ground out between clenched teeth, clipping each word as he spoke. He saw the moment the Rogue realized who he was talking about, though the vamp quickly tried to mask what he'd already revealed.
"I don't know what you're talking about," the Rogue replied. Taking a sideways step, he leaned against the wall next to where he stood. "I also don't know what makes you think you can just burst in here. I'm not doing anything wrong. I just happen to like it in this old building, minding my own business."
Rage boiled, and Tank found himself unable to contain it. "You know damn well what I'm talking about. I know she's here, and I can smell the cologne in the room and on you. It's the same cologne I caught in her house. What have you done with her?"
Chaotic emotions breaking free, he sprang forward, and in a blink of an eye, he found himself standing in front of the Rogue, the vamp's shirt in his fists and his face inches from his. "If you've so much as ruffled a hair on her head, I'll make you pay. You'll be begging me to stake you."
Though he watched the Rogue's eyes widen once more, he could see the vamp struggle to maintain his appearance as being unfazed by the fact he faced Watchers, those employed to kill vampires.
A smirk spread across the Rogue's face. The sight ramped Tank's anger even more until it nearly reached critical mass. The nonchalant shrug that followed did the trick. Tank lost all thought, and with a roar of anger, he snapped the vamp's neck with such force, it nearly ripped the Rogue's head from the body. Disgusted at both himself and the bloodsucker, he flung the limp form across the room where it hit the far wall with a thud before sliding to the floor.
"Oh, that was great. Think we'll be able to find her now?" Eric said sarcastically, earning a glare from Kern.
Tank remained still, his chest heaving with the adrenaline of his anger. He knew he'd let his rage get the best of him. He had acted too quickly, and the arrogant thorn in his ass was right. The Rogue had been his best chance, and quite possibly his only chance, to find Sonya quickly, and now the vamp lay in a mangled heap on the floor.
"Man, what a mess. Well, what now, boss?"
Eric's first remark he'd been able to let go, but the second was one too many. Just as he turned to give the asswipe a piece of what boiled in his veins, Kern spoke, answering the sarcasm disguised as a question.
"We'll check the rooms."
Tank didn't react. Instead he continued to stand motionless, trying to rein himself in and regain control before he lost focus. Most likely more Rogues were in the building. He was the Commanding Officer, and the Watchers were under his orders. If he didn't keep his wits about him, someone could get seriously injured, or killed. Not on my watch, he silently vowed.
After a few minutes, Kern and the two newbies returned. Tank found himself silently praying for even the slightest hint of Sonya.
"She's not in the back," Kern advised before his eyes lowered. "We did find fresh blood, but no body."
The news of the blood and its possible source had his insides shaking, but before he could react, Trigg and Vane entered from the stairwell.
"Tank believes Sonya's here. Her house was empty, but her things were still there and all lights were on. There had been a male inside the house from the scent of cologne we'd picked up. It's also in this room and on him," Kern told the new arrivals as he pointed at the dead Rogue.
Trigg and Vane collectively glanced at the slumped mass on the floor, then at Tank with eyebrows raised. Tank wasn't about to answer and was thankful Kern shook his head to warn them off. This was not the time to ask questions.
"How'd you two get here so fast?"
Kern's words faded as Tank went to see for himself the blood Kern had discovered. Once he reached a small, dirt filled kitchen and saw the pools of dark liquid on the floor, the counter and in the sink, he almost went to his knees.
Heart pounding, he dipped a finger into the blood on the counter and brought it to his nose and inhaled. The blood was indeed human, but that of a male. Not Sonya.
After returning to the front room occupied by the Watchers and the dead Rogue, Tank's hands began to shake. He attempted to cover the trembling by placing them on his hips while he surveyed the room for any signs Sonya.
Aggravation set in quickly at his inability to fully calm himself enough to get a reading of the place. Panic, anger, fear all seemed to be working against him.
From the corner of his eye, he saw Nathan enter from a hallway off to the side of the room. "I found a set of stairs leading to a lower level."
Feeling as though he'd drown in what went on in his head, Tank jogged in the direction Nathan had indicated, hoping to outrun his dire emotional state.
Once through an open door, he came to a halt at the top of a set of stairs and noticed a soft sound emanate from somewhere below.
"I'm right behind you, brother."
Kern's declaration, spoken in a low whisper, and the hand the warrior placed on Tank's shoulder managed to break through to his common sense, helping him to rein himself in somewhat, to think clearly. An inner voice insisted upon caution and repeated several times the fact he had no idea who or what was down there.
Taking it slow, he descended the stairs then eased out of the stairwell after the last step.
Dust and clutter, knotted and hanging wiring and a multitude of pipes in various sizes snaking throughout the ceiling, filled the area. Tank gave the signal for the other Watchers to follow.
The stench of blood and decay overpowered the
stale and musty air present throughout the building, turning his stomach.
"Man, what's that smell?" Tank heard Eric whisper in a barely hushed voice, followed by Nathan's drawled reply. "Whoever smelt it, dealt it."
"Oh, real funny, dumb..."
Eric and Nathan's childish banter rocketed through Tank's brain, and he found it hard to believe the two's behavior while in this situation--Sonya missing and they were quite possibly entering a Rogue's lair.
Tank swung around to face them. The hiss that escaped and peeled back his lips to show elongated fangs came unbidden. "Shut up, you idiots. If I didn't have to babysit you, I'd rip you two apart and leave you here for the rats. Got it?"
Staring the newbies down, he noticed both seemingly shrink from his warning and obvious anger. When neither spoke again, Tank found himself placated, at least for the moment. After a long glare to reemphasize his point, he turned forward once again and followed the glow.
Rats squealed and scattered in different directions as he approached an open doorway. The scene triggered a flash of memory, and he realized he'd heard the same sound in his last dream. Another possible piece of the puzzle making itself known spurred him into action and he sprinted for the room. When he got there, he slid to a stop.
A small lantern hung from a nail high on the wall, giving off only enough light to multiply and enlarge the shadows in the room. The smell of blood was thick and mixed with another, more unpleasant scent--the sour smell of vomit.
As he moved forward, one particular shadow caught his attention until he realized what he saw. Tank's heart stopped in mid-beat. Sonya lay sprawled on a stainless steel table in the center of the room.
Lunging for the table, he sensed Kern on his heels and knew the warrior watched his back, but at that moment, he didn't care if a thousand Rogues hid in the shadows waiting to ambush them.
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Chapter Six
Never before had Tank seen something so horrid his chest felt as though it had caved in. Sonya lay motionless on the cold table. Dried blood smeared her blouse. Marring her flesh were numerous puncture wounds where she'd obviously been bitten and fed from repeatedly. Beads of sweat covered her skin and across her forehead. Her breathing was shallow. The dried blood on her lips and down her chin made the situation all too clear and he knew--she'd had been converted by a Rogue, one who'd mercilessly denied her proper medical attention or any support whatsoever. Also apparent by her current condition: the conversion had not yet completed. She still suffered the change.
"Let's get her out of here," Tank growled. He removed his coat and draped it over her body.
"Leave her alone," a small voice warned with only a slight tremor. "Get away from her."
Tank turned, noting all of the Watchers doing so as well, to see a boy standing in the doorway. Dirty hands, about as filthy as his short, sandy blond hair and wrinkled shirt and pants, held a pipe gripped tightly like a Louisville Slugger. Tank could tell the boy intentionally poised himself to appear as someone to be reckoned with.
"Hey, it's alright. We're not here to hurt her," Kern said softly, taking very small, almost imperceptible steps toward the boy.
Tank made no further movement to remove Sonya from the table until he assessed the situation and her safety. He noticed the boy's shoulders relax then sag. A wary gaze shifted from him to Kern, then around the room to the others before settling again on him and Sonya.
"Can you help her? She's awfully sick."
Tears welled in the boy's eyes as he lowered the pipe, which Kern quickly removed from his limp hands. Kern crouched and placed his hands on the boy's shoulders.
"Yes, we're going to take her out of here and make her better, okay?"
The boy nodded.
"Who did this to her?" Kern asked.
The boy lowered his eyes. "I don't know him, but he's a very mean man."
"Where's your family? Are you here alone?"
The boy took a deep breath and pushed a strand of hair from his face with his dirty hand, leaving a smudge on his forehead. "The two men killed the man and lady who'd adopted us. They were taking us to their home when the one who'd hurt Sonya tricked them into coming out here. I don't know what he told them, but we ended up in this basement, and another guy put us in a cage..." His voice hitched then trailed off.
Tank was trying to focus on the boy's answers, but most of his attention was still on Sonya as she lay perfectly still on the cold, hard table. Flashbacks from his dreams beat at him, making his heart ache because he hadn't found her sooner.
While Kern continued to speak with the boy and Tank prepared Sonya to be carried out of the building, Trigg stepped through another doorway to complete their sweep. Since he and Vane had found Rogues in another part of the building earlier, he wanted to make sure this area was clear, knowing if an ambush happened, Sonya and the boy would be caught in the middle.
A cage in the corner of the room caught Trigg's attention and he wondered if it was the one the boy had spoken of. Taking several steps forward, he noticed something lying inside. Reaching in, he grasped a tattered doll. Its clothes had definitely seen better days and the long, black hair was ratted and dirty. Trigg recalled the boy's words. "Another guy put us in a cage." "Us?" he muttered.
Movement within the shadows of the corner of the room made Trigg surge to his feet and ready his dagger in his fighting hand.
"Who's there? Come out. Now."
From behind an old, wooden desk peered a tiny face. The child hesitated a moment before leaving the shadows and stepping into the light. A girl. The breath left Trigg's lungs.
She was dressed in a dirty, faded yellow dress with no shoes on her filthy feet. Trigg figured her to be three or four years old. Smudges covered her cheeks from where she'd obviously wiped her dirty hands across her face several times.
Trigg's heart skipped a beat at the sight. Never had he seen such an angelic face, other than Robyn's of course. Suddenly realizing he had his knife drawn and had assumed his warrior stance, Trigg quickly sheathed his weapon and knelt to be at eye level with the girl in an attempt to not appear so intimidating.
"Hey, there."
Trigg relaxed his muscles until every feature softened. It dawned on him how easy it was to do so in the presence of this little girl standing wide-eyed only a few feet away.
He held out the doll and softened his voice. "Is this yours? It's okay. I'm not going to hurt you. We're here to help. We're going take the woman out of this place. She's really sick and needs a doctor."
The girl stood unblinking, wringing her fingers together, obviously wary of the stranger kneeling before her. The fear she radiated broke his heart.
Slowly, she eased forward, one small step at a time as if testing the waters. Trigg knew she'd no doubt bolt in a heartbeat if she felt threatened.
Keeping himself very still, he held his breath as she eased closer to the doll in his hand. When she got within a foot of his outstretched arm and the doll resting in the palm of his hand, she glanced at it then lifted her eyes to his. After doing this several times, she took another step forward, grasped his hand with tiny fingers and sank her fangs into his wrist.
When Trigg jerked in surprise, she gasped, releasing her fangs from his flesh. She suddenly lifted her gaze and stared up at him with the biggest blue eyes he'd ever seen. Those eyes showed sadness and told of horrible things a child her age should never have had to witness. The realization made his chest tighten. She looked so frightened at what would happen next that she didn't move.
Fangs. The thought popped into his head and the revelation made him frown. He recalled seeing the boy's fangs as well. Vampire children don't normally grow fangs until adolescence unless they'd been fed human blood.
Trigg's blood ran cold. Had they been feeding off humans?
Trigg took a good look at the child standing before him. No, she wasn't a Rogue, nor was her brother.
A shuffling of feet had Trigg praying she didn't bolt fr
om the appearance of more people.
The girl's brother, followed by Tank with Sonya held tightly in his arms, entered the room. Kern, Vane and the newbies were not far behind. Trigg glanced at them. When one of the newbies made a move to approach, Trigg lifted his other hand to halt the advancement.
"No, stay back."
Returning his gaze to the frail girl, he gave her a reassuring smile. "No one's going to hurt you. I know you're hungry."
He had nothing else to offer the child but his wrist. His inner voice urged him to provide for her, pointing out the fact how common it was for vampires to feed from one another, not to mention the fact the liquid in his veins ran strong.
Placing the doll in the girl's arms, he slowly sat on the dirt floor while drawing her ever so gently onto his lap and lifted his wrist to her mouth.
"Go ahead. Take what you need."
Cold, tiny fingers touched his wrist and hand. The sensation was so slight, like butterfly wings brushing over his skin. When he felt the tiny pinpricks of her fangs once more, he closed his eyes. His heart split at the top, then slowly began to crumble at the knowledge two children, one so very young, had been in this horrible place for God knew how long.
These children should be at home playing games and watching television, his inner voice raged. They should be having fun at the ice-cream shop with their parents, or playing in the moonlight and laughing until they cried.
He almost growled at those thoughts but was careful to control his emotions so as not to frighten the little girl, the last thing he wanted to do. She'd no doubt been scared enough.
Finally, Trigg opened his eyes, trying to mask the emotional turmoil inside. "What's your name?"
"She doesn't talk. She's Mya, and she's three. I'm her older brother, Si, and I'm ten," the boy answered for her.
Trigg turned his head to regard the boy. "It's nice to meet you, Si." He noticed how Si repeatedly glanced up at Tank who held Sonya in his arms. The boy obviously cared about the woman, he thought. She must have been an anchor for them, easing their fear of this situation.