Prey till the End (The Endangered Series Book 3)

by S. L. Eaves

“Good, get me a pair. And Xan, I need you to do some detective work for me.” She jots down a couple numbers from her phone. “This is Lori's cell, the one below it belongs to Hailey, the hunter Striden kidnapped. Can you run a trace on them? He called Lori from her phone. There's a good chance he's going to be where one or both these phones ends up. I'm going wherever the suit goes, but either of these phones ends up elsewhere, that's where you guys go at sunset.”

  “I'm no Jiro, but I'll see what I can do.” Xan boots up a second laptop.

  Rex returns with goggles, a ski mask and a hooded jacket.

  “So she went after this werewolf alone in the middle of the day, hours after Malik impaled her. What the hell was she thinking?”

  “She wasn't,” Xan grumbles.

  Crina fidgets with the goggles. “She feels responsible. Plus you heard her exchange with Malik....her state of mind right now...she's primed for a suicide mission.”

  “This Striden character really that bad?” Rex asks. Xan and Crina exchange glances.

  Chapter 25

  Pulling up along the sidewalk, the bike idles as I stare across the street at the address Striden texted me. The building looks familiar and the sign out front tells me why. I check my phone again to make sure I read it right. Then I open the GPS and all I can do is shake my head. Of course it's right. He's going after everything and anyone I've come in contact with.

  I call Hailey's phone; it goes straight to voicemail. Striden must be laughing so hard right now.

  There's no way he's at this address. But he wants me to go to the DIA headquarters. Which means one of two things: he's telling me he got to Abrams too or he's sending me on a wild goose chase because he doesn’t want me finding him. Or both.

  There is a third option, but even he's not crazy enough to be inside there. It's not as if he's gone and turned himself in, which means if he is inside it's not going to bode well for anyone else in there.

  After parking my bike behind a dumpster a few blocks away and stowing my bag in the dumpster, I climb to the roof and make my way over to the DIA's west coast facility. It's not as if I can just walk through the front door. Not looking like this.

  The building's exterior walls give me little to go by. There's a big modern glass entryway with a two-story lobby complete with skylights. Otherwise, it looks like a generic office building with cinder block walls and small windows fitted with blinds. I need to find a way inside. A place like this must have excellent security. I try to envision what the clan would do. If I call Crina back, after she chewed me out she'd probably let me ask Xan and Rex for help infiltrating their security system. But I made my choice and I have to see this through without their help.

  Leaping from the neighboring building, I land to the left of the lobby and run up to peer through the skylights. The layers of UV coating on the lenses make it difficult to discern much in the way of details but I can get a pretty general outline of what's below. The people mulling around the lobby don't seem in any way alarmed or on their guard. He's not in the building. Or if he is, they don’t it know yet.

  Catching a glimpse of a familiar face as he enters from the street, I climb gingerly across the glass in a crotched position. Yep, it's Sullivan. I recognize his pronounced chin and military buzz cut. He really needs a new style.

  Sullivan worked under Abrams as part of the special projects division Abrams headed when I was assisting the DIA with Trion. I recall him being good at following orders; he never asked too many questions and trusted his instincts. He doesn't fold under pressure, is familiar with my kind, and is just who I need on my side right now.

  I watch him ascend the escalator. He's looking down at his phone and I resist the urge to knock on the glass. He turns down the hall to my right.

  This is the closest thing to a break I'm ever going to get. I scamper across the roof, kick in the vent and drop into the air duct without giving myself time to talk myself out of it. Thinking really just cramps my style. Someone below hears me moving around in the narrow ventilation shaft.

  “What the hell? Is that a rat? Ugh.”

  It's a woman's voice and she seems disgusted by the shuffling above her. When I reach the slotted cover that looks into her office, she’s staring directly up at me.

  Whoops.

  I've always been bad at stealth. Why should this occasion be any different?

  In one sweeping motion I punch out the vent and descend on her right as her shocked expression begins to turn into a scream. It's quickly stiffened by a blow to the head. As I slide her unconscious body behind her desk, Sullivan knocks on the door.

  “Hey, Jane, everything okay in there?” He eases the door open. It's glass, but our encounter happened along the wall farthest from the door and I'm able to remain out of view. “I was walking by and heard—”

  I grab his arm and yank him into the office. He immediately produces a gun from inside his suit jacket. With his wrist clutched tightly in my left hand, I pin him against the wall, covering his mouth with my right hand.

  “Sullivan, relax, it's Lori,” I try to articulate through the thick black mask. It comes out muffled and indiscernible. He responds by trying to wrestle free.

  He brings his knee up to my abdomen and I'm forced to flip him on his back to avoid the blow. Given that's my weak spot right now, it could have worked had he made contact. He's strong, but I'm stronger. I rip the gun from his hand and gesture for him to calm down. I'm on top of him, resting my knees on his chest. Sullivan punches at me as I use one hand to unzip the hooded mask and the other to deflect his blows.

  “Lori?” He freezes when I remove the mask, instantly recognizing me.

  Good, I wasn't sure he would. It's been years, but then the no aging thing does help with that and vampires probably remain somewhere prominent in the memory bank.

  “Hey, Sullivan, fancy meeting you here.” I give my best attempt at a disarming smile. “I need your help. I think this location's been compromised. Can I get off you without you setting off alarms or anything?”

  He nods rapidly. “Yeah, yeah, I'll hear you out. Where's Jane?”

  I slide off him and point behind her desk.

  “She's fine. She'll regain consciousness shortly.”

  There's a faint amount of sunlight streaming through the window's venetian blinds and it starts to singe my skin. I cross to the blinds and close them, then check that there's no one watching us through the door.

  Sullivan gets to his feet, brushing off his suit. I scoop up his gun and hand it to him, moving in one swift blur so he remembers how fast I can be if needed.

  “So did you miscalculate my office? Because I'm two down.”

  “Saw you through the window, tried to time my descent so I could intercept you from the hallway. Your colleague here was a wrong place, wrong time scenario. Is Abrams around?”

  He scratches his head. “Probably not, he's not based out of this office. I rarely see the guy anymore. I can call him if you need me too though. I think I still have his cell.”

  He's not based out of here. So this isn't about him.

  “Maybe, but right now I'm more concerned with the people in this building. I got a text from Striden to meet him at this location. He abducted a friend...err associate of mine and her kid. Human. Both of them.” Hoping that'll work in my favor. “I need to track them down.”

  “Whoa, wait. Striden?”

  “Former CEO of S&D Pharma. Presumed dead in an explosion. Ties to terrorist organizations—”

  “I know, I know. His name just came across my desk. He was spotted by an operative in the area. I'm not directly involved, but some of my colleagues have been asked to re-open his case file. Hell, there’s even a meeting about him scheduled tomorrow.”

  “Well that might have something to do with why this location is on his radar. I just recently learned he was alive myself. Relayed it to Abrams when I saw him the other night.”

  “Shit.” He rubs the scruff on his chin. “Does this have anything to do
with the recent string of homicides? No offense, but we'd been looking into your kind for those and he's a wolf right?”

  “Yeah he's a werewolf. Not sure why he's in town. The homicides are being committed by vampires, a new clan, might be connected.”

  “Why would he be here? Or want you to come here?”

  “That's what I need to find out.”

  “Hmm…We can start by checking the security footage. There's cameras at every access point. I doubt he strolled in through the front door, especially with captives, but he may have entered through the parking garage or basement...the humans he has- are they connected to the agency?”

  “No. I mean not to my knowledge.”

  Sullivan looks at Jane's desk. “Alright. Well I can't do anything from here. I can take you to the surveillance room...” He points at my suit. “Going to be rather conspicuous in that.”

  “Sunlight fries me. No other option.”

  “Right. Okay then, follow me. Anyone asks I'll say we're testing out new technology.”

  He opens the door, I zip the mask back into place and follow him down the hall. A few people stare, but not as many as one might expect.

  We head down a stairwell in the rear of the building, enter a door to the first floor and proceed down a hallway. Sullivan stops at a sealed doorway, checks that the coast is clear, and turns to me.

  “Once we enter this room, the first thing I will do is call Abrams. His verbal clearance will cover my ass if this turns south. Understand I'm taking a big risk in trusting you here. Mainly I just don't want this to turn into a scene. I know what your kind is capable of, but that also means I'll be first in line to stop you if it turns out you're playing me. Got it?”

  I nod and gesture to the door.

  He takes out his phone and, presumably, pulls up Abrams' number. Then presses his thumb on the scanner. A second later the pad beeps green and the door slides open.

  The room is lined wall-to-wall with screens and fortunately no windows. An older gentleman with sleepy eyes looks over his shoulder at us. Someone forgot to wake him up for retirement. Good to see they have top notch security in this place.

  “Hey, Sullivan, what's up?” he asks as he straightens in his seat. His regards me curiously, but seems to know better than to ask.

  “Hi, Barry, I need to look up some footage, mind taking a break for thirty?”

  Barry stands and stretches. “Happily,” he responds, picking up his coffee.

  When the door closes behind him I quickly remove my head gear. Unbreathable materials are really hot, it must be well over hundred degrees in this suit. I pull out my phone and try Hailey's one more time while Sullivan attempts to reach Abrams.

  Sullivan has more luck getting through than I do and after a moment he hangs up and turns to me.

  “Well Abrams okayed me assisting you. He wants us keeping him in the loop. He was pretty alarmed that Striden called out this building. Thinks we should evacuate as a precaution.”

  “Understandably. But I vote we find out just how worried we should be before we alarm everyone else, but it's your call to make.”

  Sullivan nods. “Let's see if we can find some evidence first.”

  He starts hitting buttons on the nearest screen and almost instantly the middle row of flat screens begins showing footage from different times of the day.

  “You said he texted you right? What time?”

  “He called mid-kidnapping so it'll be after that. Most likely.” I scroll through my phone. “That was three hours ago.”

  “Three hours?”

  “I wasn't in L.A. at the time. And I didn't Google the address. I thought I was meeting him somewhere more inconspicuous like a warehouse.”

  “Makes sense. But gives us a big window to work with though.”

  I scrutinize the footage, eyes darting from screen to screen. We comb through footage from what must be a hundred cameras covering the interior and exteriors of the building.

  After several painstaking minutes of scanning footage, I spot a man dawning a maintenance suit and baseball cap carrying large duffle bags.

  “There,” I say, pointing to the screen.

  Sullivan rolls back the footage and replays it. A large figure crosses the parking garage with a bag in each hand. They look heavy and bulky. He carries them with ease, nodding at a man in a suit as he passes. The cameras in the parking garage never capture his face, but I'm certain that it's him.

  “Do you think that's him?” Sullivan asks, replaying the footage frame by frame. At one point he says something to the guard.

  “I'm sure of it. And those bags look heavy.”

  “It's suspicious, but we've had a lot of plumbing issues so maintenance guys have been coming and going all week. Uniform looks official.”

  He pulls up more footage from that timeframe. Finds an image of him walking away from a white windowless van.

  “Plain white van kinda screams malice doesn't it?” I give him a look that dares him to argue.

  He nods. “Yeah, doesn't match the logo on the cap or jumpsuit.”

  Seconds later he's on the phone calling in extra security teams to survey the building.

  When he rejoins me, I point to where Striden enters. “What's this door lead to?”

  “Basement access. Not much sensitive down there. Old evidence lockers, archived files, small ammunition storage. You need to pass both thumb and retina scans to get into any of the rooms.”

  He looks through more footage, trying to find the right hallway. Eventually shakes his head.

  “We don't have much in the way of cameras down there.”

  “Let's go see for ourselves then.” I start for the door, bumping into a man as he enters the room.

  “You called, sir?”

  Sullivan points at the screen. “I need you to pull all the footage you can with that man on it. I need to know when he entered, when he left – if he left – and whether he still had those bags.”

  “Yes, sir.” The man nods and takes the seat formerly occupied by Barry.

  Sullivan follows me into the hall. “This way. Stay close, you won't get far without my clearance.”

  We proceed to go door-to-door, checking each room for anything suspicious. I'm not really sure what to look for, but Sullivan seems to make note of whether anything has been moved or changed. When we step out of the ammunition room he gives a confused 'all there' shrug and we continue our search.

  “Sullivan,” he answers his phone as we scan rows of archived files. “Understood. It may be a false alarm, but contact the bomb squad for me and have them bring a team over just in case. No don't evacuate. Just the intruder has a history with explosives so I want to be ready.”

  I find him a couple aisles over.

  “Any developments?”

  “They have footage of him leaving. No bags in hand. He was only in the building for seven minutes. Just enough time to slip in, drop off those bags and slip out.”

  “That why you’re thinking bombs?

  “Not ruling it out.” He checks his watch. “But we're getting into after-hours here so if he was planning a large-scale attack, he missed his window.”

  “They capture his ride out?”

  “Scanning parking garage footage now. Doubt he kept the wheels though.”

  When we can't spot anything suspicious in the file room, we proceed to the next, passing a plain, unmarked door as Sullivan points up the hall to a door marked “Evidence.”

  “Hold up, what's in here?”

  “Janitor room. Mops and towels and such.” Sullivan shrugs and heads for the more alluring evidence room.

  “The only door down here you don't need clearance for?”

  That stops him.

  I try the handle, it turns. I ease it open. My jaw instantly drops.

  Motherfucker.

  “Call those bomb squad guys and evacuate the building. Now.”

  Sullivan runs over to the door while hitting buttons on his phone.

  I
step inside and squat down to be eye level with the little girl. Hailey's little girl. Who Striden left bound and gagged and wearing what appears to be an explosive vest. She looks up at me with wild tear-filled eyes.

  “Hey there, Arianne, right? Remember me? I'm a friend of your mom's.”

  She nods. I peal the tape off her mouth.

  “Where's mommy?” Her voice trembling.

  “Yeah you heard me. A bomb.” I hear Sullivan from the doorway.

  “Seriously man, she's already scared. Make the call down the hall.”

  “Sorry,” he says as he pockets the phone. “How much time do we have? These types usually have a countdown on the trigger.”

  I turn back to Arianne, trying my best to seem comforting.

  “We're going to get you back to your mom, first we need to get you out of this jacket. I'm guessing it's pretty heavy right?”

  “Yeah, it's really uncomfortable. That man put it on me. He has my mom.”

  “Can you hold real still? We need to take a better look at the vest.”

  She tenses up. It's not like she can move well anyways. In the back there's a box with a digital timer. There's just over seventy minutes.

  “That's odd.” Sullivan observes. “It's almost too much time. Like he wanted to give us a chance to find it.”

  “It's set to go off after sunset. He wanted me to be here. And if you're investigating him I can see him wanting to disrupt your operations.”

  “And to do this to a child. This dude's a sick fuck isn't he.” He looks to the kid. “Sorry.”

  “You don't have kids do you, Sullivan?”

  “Actually I have two. They're why I swear so much.”

  The girl looks up at him with tears welling in her eyes. “Can you get this off me?”

  Sullivan nods. “Yeah, Arianne is it? That's a pretty name. How old are you?”

  “Five. I'm going to be six in three weeks.”

  “Darn right you are.” Sullivan gets back on the phone. “How far out? Yeah we've located the device. A vest. One fuse box. A kid. Yep.”

  He hangs up. “They'll be here in a few minutes.”

  “Can't we just pour water on it or something? It looks like a cheap little box.”