To Love and Serve

by Caridad Piñeiro

  “Do you know where Benjamin lives?” she asked calmly, but her hands gripped her knees tightly.

  “I do,” Ryder answered at the same time Hernandez said, “No.”

  An uneasy look passed between them, then Ryder rattled off the address. “The entrance is around the back and very secure. It’ll be hard to get in.”

  “My badge will take care of that,” Hernandez replied.

  “You mean badges. We’ll meet you there in half an hour,” Diana said.

  A charged silence followed before her ADIC agreed. “All right. Half an hour.”

  The line went dead. As dead as Diana’s gaze when it met Ryder’s. As lifeless as her voice when she said, “Want to tell me what’s going on?”

  “Separate, but together, remember?”

  She blew out a ragged breath, and again, she jammed her fingers through her hair, holding it off her face. “Separate? Do you think that’s possible when Jesus is involved?”

  Ryder narrowed his eyes. “Is that how I draw the line in the sand? I only ask for your help if it’s one of your friends?”

  She let her hair drop and scrubbed her face with her hands. Shaking her head, she said, “No. No, of course that wouldn’t be fair.”

  “Fair?” he blurted out. “Nothing about what’s happening is fair.”

  “You’ve always told me I was born to serve, Ryder. And you’re right.”

  “You just spent another night puking up your guts, your heart racing like it’ll burst from your chest. Your health is—”

  “At risk. I know that. I’m tired. I’m sick. But I’ve been tired and sick before. I didn’t let it stop me.”

  He nodded, and held out his hand to her. Yeah, he’d seen her during those times, even before she’d been contaminated with his blood. She slipped her hand into his. The hand with the sapphire and diamond engagement ring he’d placed there earlier. He ran a finger over the ring and asked, “What about your job? You’re still on limited duty.” He didn’t think Hernandez could protect either her- or himself if anyone found out she was on the street investigating. Hernandez knew that, too, which meant he was really worried to ask for help.

  “This isn’t easy for me,” she said. “I may have to decide between my life and someone else’s.”

  “And between your world and mine, because I’m not sure you should be involved in our undead stuff.”

  She regarded him. “Is it that sharp a line? Your world or mine? Because both worlds are right here in this bed with us, day in and day out.”

  Ryder said nothing, just glanced down at their hands. At the engagement ring he kept fingering, almost afraid she would remove it.

  But she wouldn’t. She loved him.

  “I need to get dressed,” she said when he remained silent, and slipped out from under the covers. “I can’t go meet Jesus looking like this.”

  He kissed her hard. Filling the kiss with so much hope and love, the cold knot he sensed in her center loosened, and warmth flooded through her into him.

  When they broke apart, she ran her thumb across his lips in a caress and smiled. “Come on. Let’s get going.”

  …

  Diana let out a small sigh of relief. Their badges had worked. The doorman at Benjamin’s building was not going to challenge two FBI agents waving their IDs in his face.

  But as they boarded the elevator, Ryder said, “The doorman just made a phone call.”

  “To the Slayer Council?” Diana asked. Ryder shrugged. “Probably. Just like I report to Diego, Benjamin and Michaela no doubt report to their Council.”

  She turned to Jesus. “Do you know who they report to?”

  Her friend shook his head. “We tried not to talk about those things. It was too hard when our worlds collided.” He bumped his fists together and then mimicked an explosion, complete with sound effects.

  Diana frowned. “So all we know is that Michaela was meeting with Benjamin tonight? But not where?”

  Jesus’s lips thinned. “Correct.”

  They got off on a floor with only one door. Jesus opened it using a passkey the doorman had provided, and they entered. He let out a low whistle at the spectacular view of the city from the floor-to-ceiling windows, the over-the-top artwork on the walls, the designer furnishings, and the flat-screen television large enough to be seen from the Jersey Palisades across the river.

  “Where do you guys get the dough for these kinds of digs?” he muttered.

  “Focus,” Diana said firmly. “Look for anything that could tell us where they might have gone.” She went to one side of the immense room where a glass and chrome table held an all-in-one computer, keyboard, mouse, and nothing else. She moved the mouse, and the screen sprang to life. Password-protected, naturally.

  She cursed beneath her breath and turned to find the men. “Anything?”

  The whole place was neat as a pin and from the looks on Jesus’s and Ryder’s faces, there was little to be found on this floor. Damn.

  She jerked a thumb in the direction of the floating staircase and headed that way, but the front door flew open before she could reach the first step.

  An Amazon of a woman marched in, her long strides practically chipping the marble floor with her killer stilettoes. They’d make formidable weapons. Her wiry muscles bound together the sturdy bones of her warrior’s body. Scars on her arms and shoulders proclaimed that she’d seen her share of battle. Diana suspected the bulky leather vest the woman wore hid weapons she could use quite effectively.

  The Amazon stalked straight to Diana and blocked her way up the stairs.

  “What is the meaning of this?” Her regal tone matched the stately way she stood before them, arms bracketed on her hips. The doorman and another large, muscular man flanked her.

  A second later, Jesus and Ryder assumed similar positions, guarding Diana.

  “We’re looking for Michaela,” Diana replied, unintimidated. “She’s missing, and from what we can see, so is the Council member she was going to meet—Benjamin.” She mirrored the other woman’s stance, hands on her hips, drawing back her suit jacket with the action. It was a well-practiced move that displayed her badge and the grip of her gun nestled in her holster.

  The other woman sneered. “Do you think that peashooter frightens me?”

  “Probably not as much as the thought of Benjamin and Michaela betrayed by one of your trusted Council members,” she countered with dead calm.

  Her answer cut the woman’s aggression, bringing the first hints of doubt. “Impossible.” But even as she said it, she glared at her two foot soldiers. “Leave us,” she commanded.

  They scurried out of the room like two whipped dogs. Once they were gone, Ryder jumped in, “One of them failed to carry out the termination order on Benjamin’s brother.”

  The woman’s face was a mask of disbelief. “There’s no way a Council member would fail to comply with such an order. The penalty for defiance is death.”

  “Michaela believes it’s possible. Benjamin, too. He came to you, didn’t he?” Ryder challenged, and Evangeline’s proud stance deflated, along with the last of her arrogance.

  “Yes, he did. This morning. Benjamin told me his theory, but…I didn’t believe him.”

  “And now you have doubts, since both Michaela and Benjamin are missing,” Diana said.

  Evangeline gave a majestic rise and fall of her head. “He said he was returning to the home of one of the Council members to confirm his suspicions.”

  Diana pushed out a breath. “We have to assume Benjamin thought that was the member who’d defied the Council’s order. We should retrace his later steps and see which member he visited.”

  Evangeline shook her head. “Not a chance. I know where you’re going, but I won’t release the locations of our people. It would be too dangerous.”

  Diana shot a frustrated glance at Ryder and he laid a restraining hand on her shoulder. “So what do you plan to do?” he asked the slayer.

  Evangeline motioned to Benjamin�
��s apartment. “This area is already compromised. I’ll call the other Council members and ask them to meet us here.”

  Without waiting for their response, she flew up the stairs.

  Jesus bounded forward a step or two, then whirled back to face them. “We’re running out of time. I’ve seen this guy’s handiwork and if both Michaela and Benjamin are under his control—”

  “We’ll find them,” Diana promised, praying she was right. The whole thing was even more gruesome than the usual human serial killers she dealt with.

  The minutes ticked by, seemingly endless, until Evangeline slowly descended the stairs. Her hand shook on the banister, and beneath her smooth brown skin was a hint of pallor.

  “I haven’t been able to reach Aja.” A thread of uncertainty tangled in her tone.

  “Are you surprised?” Ryder said. “You know what Bartholomew can do.”

  Evangeline leaned forward, almost nose to nose with Ryder. “Why do you think we failed him out of slayer training? We saw the evil in his soul. Saw the danger he presented. There was only one way to put an end to it. So we did.”

  Ryder wouldn’t be cowed by the slayer, and even from a few feet away, Diana felt the two powers grating against one another like sandpaper against rough metal. She stepped between them before it got worse, forcing Evangeline to look down at her from her much greater height.

  “Didn’t do a very good job, did you?” Diana said evenly.

  Evangeline curled her hands into fists and raised them at her sides, but Diana didn’t back away. “While you delay, their lives could be at stake. We need to know where to find Aja. Now.”

  “You’re not going without me,” the slayer said.

  Diana gestured toward the door. “By all means, lead the way.”

  Chapter Twenty-nine

  Michaela awoke slowly. She knew she was alive from the sharp, throbbing pain in her side. She was alone in the darkness, in a room with rough walls that glistened with wetness. It was as if the stones were weeping. Maybe they were tears for Benjamin and her.

  She had no doubt Bartholomew was holding his brother captive.

  She had no doubt he intended to hurt him. Kill him.

  She had to help, somehow. She tried to rise, but the pain was unbearable and threatened to pull her back under. Gulping in short, deep breaths, all that she could manage without screaming, she chastised herself.

  She’d been such a fool, falling for the fake injury. The slayer power she’d sensed had been less than full force, but not because of injury. It was because Bartholomew had not reached complete slayer potential.

  The Slayer Council had warned her during her training that she had too much compassion. That it made her weak. They had impressed upon her to fight her kindness if she really wanted to embrace all that being a slayer meant. But she’d rebelled at being as cold-hearted as they were. Damn it, they’d been right.

  Fuck. She rolled onto her back again. When Bartholomew had dumped her on the floor, the hard landing had helped to partially drive out the stake. She glanced down at her side where the bloodied, gleaming wood stuck out of her ribs. A stinging numbness spread outward through her flesh from the silver nitrate saturating the stake.

  With her hybrid physiology, the poison was not as lethal as it would have been for a vampire, but it seriously inhibited her healing. If she yanked out the stake in one pull, she’d likely bleed to death. But if she didn’t get it out, the poison would do more and more damage to her system, with the same result.

  Maybe if she extricated it a little at a time, she could heal in slow spurts along the path of the stake. Then extract it fully after a few pulls, and find a way out of wherever it was Bartholomew had tossed her.

  Find Benjamin. Help Benjamin.

  Gripping the stake with one hand, she pulled.

  Her tortured scream echoed against the stone walls.

  The sound chased her down into the darkness.

  …

  “Single stab wound to the heart. A quick kill. In and out, and you’re done, normally,” Diana said as she stared at the lifeless body of the female Council member.

  Evangeline stood at the foot of the bed, waves of anger radiating from her body, emotion chipping away at her control over her slayer power. Her gaze darted to where Jesus crouched over bloodstains on the polished wooden floor, and then returned to lock on Diana. “Why do you say ‘normally’?”

  Diana pointed to the almost surgically neat knife wound just beneath Aja’s sternum. “He drove up in one swift move, but kept the knife there until the very last beat of her heart. Maybe for minutes after. That’s why there’s only a small amount of blood. The heart had stopped beating when the knife was extracted.”

  “There’s more blood here, and splatter against the wall.” Jesus rose, and walked to examine the pattern on the otherwise meticulous white of the modern-looking bedroom.

  Diego, who had joined them when they called with their report, strode to the wall and took a sniff. “It’s not Aja’s.”

  Diana nodded. “It can’t be. This knife wound would not produce that kind of spatter pattern. Plus it’s too high for a woman of this height, or Michaela’s height, for that matter.”

  “Do you think that’s Benjamin’s blood?” Evangeline asked. “He told me he’d already spoken to Aja. Do you think she’s the one he came back to see?” She gave Diana a little shove to move her away, then bent to modestly cover Aja with the robe.

  “If Benjamin is about six foot two, it’s a strong possibility,” Jesus answered.

  “There’s more blood here.” Ryder pointed to a series of droplets about a foot and a half from the wall and directly in front of a large mirrored panel.

  Diana scanned the floor from the more obvious blotch of blood Jesus had identified earlier to the scattered droplets leading to where Ryder stood. Facing Jesus, she said, “He was standing not far from where you are. Then he fell there.” She motioned to the larger patch of blood on the floor.

  Jesus nodded and marked the likely scenario. “He came in through the door and saw Aja. He started walking over to her, and something surprised him.”

  Diana continued, studying the wall, “He turned, and was struck across the head with something heavy and vicious. It must have cut him severely to cause that kind of spatter.”

  She examined the stains on the floor. “He landed here, but he was moved. The blood pattern over here is smudged. These other droplets would indicate that Bartholomew picked him up and carried him toward that mirror.”

  “What about these?” Ryder asked. She walked to where he stood, careful to not disturb any of the blood evidence on the floor. “He stopped here for something. There are more drops on the ground because Benjamin was still bleeding.”

  She leaned forward, scanning the edges of the mirror. It was framed with ornately carved wood, making it hard to pick up on any hand or fingerprints. Pulling her jacket sleeve down so she wouldn’t leave trace behind, she pushed against one edge of the mirror. It gave just a little, and the panel shifted away from the wall.

  “Damn.” Shooting an accusatory look at Evangeline, she said, “It would have saved us some time if you’d told us about this.”

  The other woman lifted a negligent shoulder. “We all have secret escape routes in case of attack. We don’t share where they are, to protect their secrecy.”

  Using a sleeve-covered hand, Diana pulled open the mirrored door to reveal a short hallway leading to what she assumed was a hidden stairway. The floor and stairs were made of cement and the blood trail was more visible there, as was a partial boot print.

  Jesus had come up behind her and looked over her shoulder. “Michaela showed me some crime scene photos from NYPD. That boot print looks familiar.”

  Ryder peeked into the hallway and nodded. “It’s a big size, just like in the photos. That’s about all I can tell.”

  “This is the case Daly is working?” Diana asked, starting to put together all the various pieces. All the calls made in
the last couple of days.

  Diego considered her for a moment, then said, “We believe Bartholomew slashed and staked two vampires, then murdered a homeless man in one of the Central Park tunnels. Daly is working the human case.”

  “We’ll have to call him in on this,” Jesus said.

  “No, you won’t,” Evangeline said firmly. “Whatever she’s done, Aja was a slayer, and we take care of our own.”

  Diana was almost afraid to ask what that meant, but decided it wasn’t the time to argue. Each second they delayed could cost someone their life. And her boss his happiness, if anything happened to Michaela.

  “Care to tell where this tunnel leads?” she asked Evangeline.

  Another careless shrug came from the woman. “To an exit far from this building. A hard-to-find exit, to avoid discovery.”

  “Down we go, then.” Diana led the way for the group, Ryder and Jesus just behind her. Evangeline and Diego hung to the rear, almost shoulder to shoulder, neither one trusting the other enough to be last and expose their back.

  Most people thought that walking up fifteen stories was hard, but going down was no walk in the park, either. By the time she was halfway down the hidden staircase, Diana’s legs were trembling from the exertion and sweat trickled down her back beneath her jacket. The chill in her gut was spreading outward, and as she rounded one landing, a spurt of nausea dizzied her. She fought it back and kept up the pace, anxious to hit the secret exit and hopefully determine which way Bartholomew had gone with Benjamin. She had no doubt they’d find Michaela there as well.

  By the time they hit the ground floor, her heart chugged in her chest like the little engine that couldn’t. They followed the blood droplets to the boiler room door. It was open. Inside, the droplets were farther apart, almost as if Bartholomew had been running, carrying Benjamin.

  Had he feared discovery? Or had he been in a rush to get back for his other victim? In the far wall there was another door, this one secured. Jesus pulled out his lock picks and sprang it. Diana looked at the three civilians as she drew her weapon. “You need to hang back.”