by Tina Folsom
John recalled the photos that had been attached to the police reports. “Yeah.” He could see Oliver’s mind working, and knew which direction it was going. He’d had the same thought many hours earlier, but he hadn’t wanted to follow it to its conclusion.
“How many?”
“A dozen in the last five or six weeks alone.”
Oliver sighed. “Bastards. Sick bastards.”
“I was hoping that I was wrong. I was actually hoping that it’s just another group of rogue vampires.” It would be something he could handle easily. Because he knew how vampires thought, he knew how they acted, he knew their weak points. A vampire was after blood, first and foremost. Which meant while the kids would certainly be traumatized, they wouldn’t be irreparably harmed. Not in the way these bastards would harm the kids. It was painful to give it a name. “It’s a child sex ring.”
Oliver pressed his lips together in a grim line. “That would be my best guess.” He rose from his chair. “Sorry, man, but there are a lot of sick people out there.”
“Yeah, very sick.”
~ ~ ~
Two hours later, John walked into the small meeting room on the executive floor, where the offices of all of Scanguards’ directors were located. Three people were already waiting for him: Samson, Gabriel, and Quinn, who was Oliver’s sire and looked no older than twenty-five. With his attractive blond hair, he gave the air of a quintessential womanizer though he was happily blood-bonded to a vampire woman. They sat around the conference table talking and looked up at John when he entered.
Samson exuded authority despite his casual attire. His hazel eyes were alert, his black hair styled back, his shoulders relaxed.
“Evening, Samson.” John nodded to the other two. “Gabriel. Quinn.”
“Take a seat, John. Fill us in,” Samson said and pointed to the chair opposite. He glanced at Gabriel. “I hear Donnelly is trying to get us to take on a case. What have you found?”
John sat down and placed his file in front of him, but he didn’t open it. He didn’t have to. He’d memorized every pertinent fact. And now he had to make a case for Scanguards to accept this assignment. He’d done this dozens of times before, but never with as few convincing reasons and as much heartfelt passion.
“Over the last few weeks, there’ve been a large number of child abductions in the Bay Area. All of them were girls between the ages of nine and twelve. None of the parents received ransom notes. The kids simply vanished.”
“And you think vampires are involved in their disappearance?” Samson asked.
“Considering that some of the children were taken in broad daylight, no. However—”
“Then why are we even discussing this?” Samson asked. “Hand the case back to Donnelly.”
“I don’t think it’s that clear cut,” John protested. “This is big. Bigger than Donnelly’s people are prepared to handle.”
“That may be the case, but our arrangement with the SFPD is clear: we only get involved if we’re dealing with preternatural creatures. We just don’t have the manpower to do any more than that.” Samson made a motion to rise.
John shot up from his seat. “Please, hear me out, Samson. I think we’re dealing with child sex trafficking. These are little girls. If we don’t help them, they might be lost forever.”
Samson closed his eyes for a second and sighed. “Don’t think I’m heartless, John. I’m not. I feel for the children and their parents, but we can’t take on more than we can handle.” He exchanged a look with Gabriel and Quinn.
Quinn patted the file folder in front of him. “Everybody’s already taking on more assignments than they can handle. We’re spread thinner than a Japanese paper screen. And since we had to dispatch some of our men to fulfill our obligations with the Stealth Guardians, we’re short-staffed.”
John knew about that. Only a few short months ago, Scanguards had allied themselves with the Stealth Guardians. They’d agreed to help each other battling evil, and as a result Scanguards had dispatched some of their staff to help the immortal warriors in their fight against the demons, while the Stealth Guardians in turn helped out whenever their skills were needed by Scanguards. At the moment, the Stealth Guardians’ need for battling the demons outweighed Scanguards’ need for assistance.
“But this is important. We’re talking about kids. Innocents. I’m not confident that Donnelly’s people can handle this. They have no leads.”
“Do you?” Gabriel shot back.
John swallowed. “Not yet. But I can feel it. There is a connection between these children that will lead me to the culprits. I’ll find it. I’ll work day and night if I have to.”
Gabriel shook his head. “John, be reasonable. As much as we all want to help these families get their children back, it would be at the expense of others that we’ve sworn to protect. If times were different, if we had more men at our disposal, there’s no question that we’d take this case. But our hands are tied.”
“And you can’t work day and night,” Samson added. “I appreciate your dedication. But if you work twenty-four-seven, you’re going to burn out and you’ll make a mistake. One that might cost you or someone in your care their life. I can’t allow that.”
“And if one of those children were your child?” John barked, realizing he was marching into insubordination territory.
Samson’s eyes narrowed. “I’m going to ignore that question. Do you understand me, John? Hand the case back to Donnelly. This is their case. They have the resources. They will eventually make a break.”
“Eventually? That might be too late for these children.” Maybe it was already too late. Maybe some of them had already experienced horrors that would damage them for life.
Samson sighed. “If things change, if we can free up some men to help, we will. But as things stand now, I don’t see that happening anytime soon. I’m sorry.” He rose and marched out of the room.
John remained standing there, staring at Gabriel and Quinn. Both looked back at him with regret in their eyes. He cast a pleading look at Gabriel. “And the hybrids? Can’t they be assigned?”
“They already are,” Gabriel said and motioned to Quinn. “Quinn’s already put them on the roster according to their level of skill and training. We’re using them where we can. And much earlier than I would like to.”
“You do know what those people will do to these girls, don’t you?” John said, his jaw tight, his fists clenched. “What they’ve maybe already done.”
Gabriel squeezed his eyes shut for a moment, while the scar on his face seemed to pulse. Then he rose. “John, you have your orders.”
He left the room, while Quinn shuffled through his papers. “Damian and Benjamin are waiting for you in the V lounge. I suggest you get on with your work.” He rose and walked to the door. There he looked over his shoulder. “I wish there was something I could do.”
John grunted to himself and waited until Quinn had left the room. Then he sank back onto the chair, exhaustion and lack of sleep catching up with him. Or maybe it was just the knowledge that he had to face Savannah with bad news.
Scanguards wasn’t going to help her find Buffy.
9
The twins were indeed in the V lounge, though they didn’t seem to be too broken up about having had to wait for John. The rather lovely barmaid, a vampire female, made sure the handsome young hybrids weren’t bored. Just like their father Amaury, Benjamin and Damian were dark-haired and blue-eyed, with broad shoulders and an abundance of charm. It was easy to tell them apart, even though they were identical twins. They wore their hair differently, Benjamin preferring a shorter, more cropped style, while Damian’s hair grew over his ears and hugged his nape, though it was not as long as his father’s. In temperament though they were quite similar.
John actually liked the two hybrids. They were intelligent and easy to get along with. More than that, they were fun to be around. They had great taste in music, a dry sense of humor, and weren’t easily offended. Bo
th loved fast cars and drove Porsches, the same model their father drove. And while they clearly adored their parents, they were the kind of kids who were self-contained, realizing that their parents were also a couple that needed their own space. Because of that they’d recently moved out of their parents’ penthouse in the Tenderloin district, a rather seedy neighborhood in central San Francisco, and into another unit in the same building, which Amaury owned.
“Hey, John,” Damian called out to him. “Want a drink before we head out?”
Having had plenty of blood earlier when the lounge had been empty, John shook his head. “I’m good. Drink up.”
Benjamin downed the last inch of his glass, then wiped a drop of blood from his chin. Although hybrids drank blood—they had to if they wanted to maintain their vampire strength—they could also eat human food. Benjamin and Damian consumed plenty of both and had the physical strength to prove it.
Damian tossed the barmaid a charming grin and a promising wink, then placed his empty glass back on the counter. “See you later, babe. Gotta save the world.”
She giggled and blew him an air kiss.
John refrained from rolling his eyes and waited for the twins to join him.
“Where to?” Damian asked and gave John a pat on the back as if they were buddies.
“You tell me. You’re the one who wants to save the world,” John shot back.
Benjamin slapped his brother over the head from behind and said, “Doofus!”
Instead of being insulted, Damian chuckled. “You would have said the same to her had I not been faster.”
“Good thing you’ve always been a bit faster than me. Wouldn’t want to get in the way of you making an ass of yourself.”
“Shall we, gentlemen?” John interrupted and pointed to the door.
Both Benjamin and Damian made exaggerated curtsies as if they’d rehearsed it, then laughed at each other when they realized they’d both thought of the same comeback.
“Seriously, John,” Damian said as he and his brother followed him to the elevators. “What’s the plan for tonight?”
“Yeah, what can we help you with?” Benjamin added.
“Help?” He doubted that either of the two jokers could help him with what he had to do first. “You can get in your cars and follow me. I’ve got a quick visit to make.”
“Great, who are we visiting?” Damian asked.
The elevator doors opened and John stepped in, the two hybrids on his heels. “You aren’t visiting anyone. The two of you will stay in your cars and wait for me. It’ll only take two minutes. Got that?”
“Yes, sir!” they said in unison.
Well, at least they’d learned to follow orders. It was a start.
Minutes later, John sat behind the steering wheel of his Mercedes and shot out of Scanguards’ underground garage, two black Porsche Carreras following him. He took the most direct route to Lower Pacific Heights, not wanting to drag out the inevitable. Sure, he could have made a phone call instead, but there was still the matter of his jacket. He’d lent it to Savannah and forgotten it at her place the night before. It was the only reason he was driving to see her in person.
And not because he wanted to see her one more time.
Yeah, not even he believed that. He couldn’t care less about the jacket. In fact, it didn’t even make the top ten when it came to his favorite pieces of clothing. If he lost it during a battle, he would certainly not go back for it. Yet, he was using his jacket as a convenient excuse to see Savannah. How pathetic! He should know better. Not only would she be disappointed and angry once he told her the news that Scanguards wasn’t going to help her find Buffy, he was torturing himself by being anywhere near her. Yeah, he could admit at least that to himself. He had been thinking about inhaling her scent again ever since he’d said goodnight to her less than twenty-four hours earlier.
But nothing would come of it. Because he couldn’t allow it. Couldn’t allow himself to give into the need that had suddenly surfaced, the need to connect with a woman, not just for carnal pleasures, but to have another being touch his heart, just so he knew that he still had one. That it was still beating. That it hadn’t died with Nicolette four years earlier. But to allow another woman in would mean to betray Nicolette, to betray her love. A love he’d vowed would last forever.
Yet here he was, bringing the car to a stop in front of Savannah’s condo and turning off the engine. He sat there in silence. He didn’t need the jacket, could just as easily pull his cell phone from his pocket and dial her number, tell her over the phone—in a businesslike, detached manner—that Scanguards had decided not to take her case. After all, he’d warned her about it. Told her in advance that Scanguards didn’t take every case it was offered—though he’d lied about why. There was no evidence of vampire involvement in the children’s disappearances. With each additional police report he’d read, his conviction about it had strengthened. And though he could have lied to Samson and Gabriel, could have pretended that there was some evidence that pointed to vampires, he knew it wasn’t right. He couldn’t even blame his bosses for their decision. In their shoes, he would have made the same choice.
And now it was his job to be the bearer of bad news.
He looked at the phone in his hand, then at the door handle. His heart beat like a jackhammer, and he could hear his blood rushing through his veins, the sound thundering in his ears like a storm overhead.
Decision time.
~ ~ ~
Savannah shot up from the couch. Had she nodded off? It wouldn’t surprise her. After all, she’d barely slept the night before, and during the day she’d criss-crossed the city, visiting every spot she’d ever taken Buffy to. She knew it had been a long shot, but simply sitting around, doing nothing, waiting impotently, was worse.
There it was again, the sound that had woken her: the doorbell. She raced to the intercom. “Yes?”
“It’s John Grant.”
She buzzed him in and ripped the door open, watching him ascend the stairs to her floor. She couldn’t see his face—the light bulb must have burned out after she’d returned home. When he reached the landing and the light from the hallway illuminated his face, she knew the news he was bringing wasn’t good.
“No,” she murmured to herself. “Buffy? Did you—”
He reached for her hand and stopped her with a quick shake of his head. “No news about Buffy,” he said.
Her heart calmed by a fraction. But the solemn look on his face continued to worry her. “Something is wrong, isn’t it?”
He shut the door behind him. “We need to talk.”
She hated those words, because rarely did they mean good news. With a shaking hand she motioned to the living room and followed him. He didn’t sit down, but turned to face her, meeting her gaze. He shifted, visibly uncomfortable.
“When you came to see me in my office yesterday, I mentioned to you that Scanguards doesn’t take on every case that’s presented to them,” he started.
Her breath caught in her throat like a fat Santa Claus in a too-tight chimney.
John dropped his gaze to his shoes. “I’m sorry. But we can’t help you.”
She shook her head. Disbelief collided with the real fear that now she would never see her daughter again. “No. No. Please, don’t say that.”
She didn’t recognize her own voice. High-pitched, pleading, borderline hysterical. Yes, she was all that. Because she was a mother, a mother who feared for her daughter. A lioness who was prepared to do anything to get her cub back.
“I’m sorry, Ms. Rice, I wish there was something I could do. But the decision has been made.”
She shook her head, took a step closer to him. “Please, I’ll pay more. Double of what you normally charge. I have money, you can check. I’ll pay whatever it costs.”
“It’s not the money. It’s not about that.”
“Then what is it about? Please, tell me. What can I do to make you help me find my daughter? Please, you’re my
only hope!” She felt tears prick behind her eyes, but pushed them back. “The police haven’t been able to find any of the other children, and they’ve been missing longer than Buffy. You know they can’t help me. But I know you can.” She didn’t know where that confidence came from, but her instincts told her he would find her. If only he agreed to help her.
“You can’t know that. There’s no guarantee. Even if I could take the case. But I can’t. My hands are tied.”
There was compassion in his words, even though he stuck to his refusal. She’d seen that compassion before, when he’d first asked her about Buffy. Just like she’d seen something else that night. Something she would exploit now. For Buffy.
“If it’s not money you want, then something else.” She gripped his hand. “Anything you want.” She locked eyes with him and moved closer, bringing her body to within inches of his much bigger one. “I’ll give you anything if you help me. Anything.”
There was a flicker in his eyes, almost like a flame igniting. She hadn’t misjudged him the night before. Hadn’t misjudged the stolen looks he’d cast her way. The looks of a man who wanted something. Wanted her—or at least her body.
Yet, he didn’t react now. He stood as if frozen in place, his eyes the only part of him that seemed to be alive. But she wouldn’t give up, not when she’d just discovered his weak point.
“I’ll sleep with you as often as you want, however you want it. You can demand anything from me, no matter what it is, I’ll do it. I’ll fulfill all your fantasies without protest.” She took his hand and guided it to her breast, making him cup one globe. His eyes seemed to shimmer, while his lips parted. “I saw how you looked at me last night. Undress me if you want to. Touch me. I know you want to.” She grabbed his other hand and laid it on her other breast. Beneath his palms, though they were motionless, she could feel herself react. Her nipples were hardening, though she didn’t understand why. This wasn’t about her pleasure. This was about a deal she would make with him. Her body in exchange for his help.