by I. T. Lucas
If anyone noticed, he had an excuse ready. After all, Sebastian had said on more than one occasion that he was waiting for Robert to show more initiative. Adhering to the goals of their original mission, Robert would claim he'd decided that patrolling the clubs was more important than patrolling the base, and two men could handle a four-hour shift without requiring replacements.
Chances were good, though, that no one other than the two remaining patrolman would notice. Worst case scenario, Robert would knock the two out. Aggression and violence weren’t his dominant traits, but that didn’t mean he couldn’t summon them when needed.
His biggest worry was Sebastian, but after the sadist was done with Carol he usually retired to his suite of rooms for the night. Tom, who was Robert’s other worry, would be out trying to snatch more girls for the basement.
Calling the men and sending them out in two waves, Robert was pretty sure no one had noticed the four additional crews. Not unless someone counted the remaining cars. Luckily, there were two separate parking lots and he doubted anyone would check both.
Everything was going according to plan.
Almost.
When an hour later Sebastian emerged from the basement, stinking of sex and blood, a murderous rage threatened to destroy Robert’s carefully thought out plan. The other him wasn’t as meek and subservient as the one Sebastian and the others were familiar with.
Killing that evil son of a bitch would have been the most satisfying thing Robert had ever done in his life. It even crossed his mind that it would be easy to do with only four men on the premises. There would be no one to stop him, and Robert had no doubt that he could overpower Sebastian. The guy was a head shorter than him and probably weighed at least fifty pounds less.
He stifled the urge.
Saving Carol was more important than this momentary satisfaction. Killing Sebastian wasn’t part of the plan, and Robert was not the kind of man who could come up with a new one on the spot.
Better stick to what he had planned so carefully, taking into account every obstacle no matter how small.
“Goodnight, Robert,” Sebastian said as he passed him on his way up.
“Goodnight, Sebastian.”
His commander stopped and turned around, casting him a curious glance. “Is there a problem, Robert?”
He was well aware that this other part of him sounded very different than what Sebastian was used to. Instead of fear, Robert was pretty sure he was radiating hatred and aggression. “No, sir. I just need to release some steam. A visit to one of the girls is in order.”
Sebastian nodded in agreement. “You do that. Sexual frustration will diminish the quality of your performance.”
“As soon as I’m done with tonight’s duties, I will.”
“Good.” The sadist turned back and kept climbing.
Robert waited a few minutes, then climbed up to Sebastian’s third-floor residence. Standing by the door, he listened for the sound of running water.
For the next twenty minutes, Sebastian would be taking a shower.
Going down the stairs to the second level, Robert headed toward the control room.
“How is it going? Anything worthy of notice?” he asked, looking around for the screen monitoring Carol’s room. As instructed, it was completely dark. A few of the other girls were sleeping as well, so her light wasn’t the only one off. The watchers had muted the sound on all of them. Again, Carol wasn’t the only one listening to music, and some of the girls were watching movies in their rooms. The guys had no choice but to turn it down, otherwise the cacophony of sounds would’ve been unbearable.
Perfect.
“Nothing. It’s just as peaceful and as boring as every other night.”
“Good. No news is good news, right?”
“Absolutely.”
“Do you guys need anything from the kitchen? I can send someone up.” He knew they didn’t. There was a fridge in the control room, and earlier he’d made sure that it was fully stocked with soft drinks and snacks.
The guys shook their head in unison.
“Goodnight, then. If you need me, I’ll be downstairs in my office.” He made a face. Everyone was making fun of his pantry workstation, and he played into it, feigning business as usual.
One of the guys chuckled.
With part one and part two accomplished, it was time for part three. Supplies.
His weapons, one change of clothes, and the little cash he had were rolled up in a blanket in his room. Dropping his comforter on the floor, he added two pillows, a few cans of soft drinks, and several protein bars, then tied everything together into one tightly packed bundle. With a quick glance out his window, he double-checked the location of the patrolmen. Satisfied that they were on the opposite side from where his minivan was parked, he dashed downstairs and loaded the weapons and cash in the trunk, folded up the third row and then spread out the comforter and the pillows in the back to make it as comfortable as he could for Carol.
Time for part four. The most difficult one that required the most careful calculation.
The patrolmen needed to be at the furthest possible point away from the building, and nowhere near the line of sight to both the front door and the lot where his car was parked.
Five minutes and twenty-three seconds later, Robert was down at the basement. His shoes discarded at the top of the stairs, he rushed in his stocking feet through a corridor completely devoid of light, counting his steps to make sure he arrived at the right room.
As he stopped in front of Carol’s door, he forced his breaths to come out shallow and soundless. The music blasting from the inside was sure to drown out any noise, but he didn’t want to take any chances. Inserting the key into the lock, he turned it gently and pushed the door open.
Counting his steps again, he arrived at Carol’s bed and fumbled in the dark until he found her arm. Her bicep twitched, but she didn’t utter a sound. He slid his palm down until he reached her hand and pulled gently. She resisted for a moment, giving the pillows a few pats before letting him help her up to her feet.
He pulled and she followed, waiting for him to re-lock her door. He could feel she was struggling to maintain her balance. Poor girl, between the beating and the drugs and the darkness, she was in a terrible state. Robert bent at the waist and wrapped an arm under her butt, hoisting her over his shoulder. As careful as he was not to touch any of the fresh welts, she couldn’t suppress the groan that escaped her throat. It was okay, though, there were no listening devices in the corridor or the stairwell leading up.
“Hold on for just a little longer,” he whispered in her ear, counting his steps all along until he reached the stairwell. Thank Mortdh, there were no cameras in the main living areas. Only the basement. Outside was a different matter, though. A few were mounted on the perimeter of the building, and many more were on top of the wall surrounding the compound.
Except, he knew where each and every one was and how to slip out unnoticed. Pushing his feet back into his shoes, he went out the front door that he’d left purposely wide open. Now, all he needed to do was creep close to the building’s walls until he reached the side parking lot.
Easy. Carol’s weight barely registered.
She was such a tiny thing, and yet tougher than most men.
With a press of a button, the back door to his minivan lifted open, and he lowered Carol gently to the little nest he’d prepared for her. It got cold out here at nights, and she wasn’t in good shape. Given the strong coppery scent coming off her, her wounds were still fresh and bleeding, and now that he looked at her in the light of the pale moon, he could see that her shirt was soaked through with blood.
“I’m sorry,” he whispered. “But you’ll have to take the shirt off. You don’t want the blood to crust and stick the fabric to your healing skin.” He wanted to offer her the option of his bite, but it was too embarrassing. It was such an intimate act, and probably the last thing Carol wanted.
“Help me. I can’t
do it myself.” She lifted a pair of red-rimmed, tear-misted eyes at him, breaking his heart into a thousand pieces. Until now, he’d only seen her after several hours had gone by and she was somewhat recuperated from her ordeal.
This was fresh.
“I could bite you to help with the pain…” He rubbed his hand over his neck. “But the problem is that I need to be… ah… you know… to produce venom…” He sounded like an idiot. But there was no way to say what needed to be said without sounding either like a pervert or a stuttering moron. Robert preferred the second option.
Carol smiled feebly. “It’s okay. I’m actually relieved that you can’t get aroused seeing me like that. Besides, I’m already drugged out of my mind with all the pills I took. I don’t want to be completely knocked out.”
Robert let out a breath.
Gently he lifted her T-shirt up and over her head, barely stopping a horrified gasp when he saw what the sadist had done to her back. Even the sight of her naked breasts stirred nothing in him.
He should have helped her escape days ago. “I’m so sorry,” he whispered again, wiping her tear-streaked face with a corner of the comforter.
Gripping his hand, she brought it to her lips and kissed his palm. “Thank you. I swear that you’ll never regret helping me. I’ll make it my life mission to make you glad that you did it. You have my word.”
As he lifted their joined hands and kissed hers, tears he hadn’t shed since he was a little boy pricked the back of his eyes. “First, let’s get you out of here in one piece. There are soda cans and power bars over there, and if you need to relieve yourself there is also a big plastic container with a lid. Stay down, don’t lift your head. The windows are darkened but these are immortals you are hiding from. Sebastian leaves at six o’clock in the morning, and I have to deliver breakfast to the girls and then collect the trays. That way no one will realize that you’re missing until lunch, and it will give us a few hours' head start. I’ll try to be here around eight.”
She nodded and lay on her side, her hands clasped in front of her. He tucked a pillow under her cheek. “Try to get some sleep.”
“Thank you,” she whispered as he closed the trunk.
Chapter 14: Nathalie
It was after midnight when Andrew returned from his meeting with Kian. She’d made him promise to come home to her at any hour of the night and tell her about it, or at least whatever he was allowed to.
The worst thing was not knowing what kind of danger her fiancé and her father would be facing. Andrew reassured her that he was probably staying behind on some noncombat duty, but that wasn’t the case with Bhathian. He was going to be there in the midst of the fighting.
Was it going to be a commando operation? A full on assault? Something else? It wasn’t as if she was versed in military terminology or strategies. All she knew was that no matter what they called the offensive, people always got hurt or died fighting.
“Why aren’t you in bed?” Andrew asked as she opened the back door for him.
Nathalie had felt too restless to sleep and had passed the time waiting for him by preparing dough and putting it in the freezer—an emergency supply she’d been meaning to make for weeks and hadn’t gotten the time for before. “I was too nervous to sleep. Do you want some coffee?”
Andrew rubbed his temples with his thumb and forefinger. “Yeah, coffee would be just what the doctor ordered.”
“Headache?”
“Yeah.”
“Would you like a couple of Motrins?”
“No, not yet. Maybe the coffee will help.”
Nathalie had brewed some ahead of time and kept it in a thermal carafe. She grabbed a tray and loaded it with two mugs, the carafe, and leftover pastries. “Let’s have it upstairs.”
“I’ll take it.” Andrew took the tray away from her and headed up.
A smile tugged at her lips despite the worry churning in her stomach. She loved that Andrew was such a gentleman. Even though he was well aware that she was schlepping trays all day long, he would never let her carry anything while he was around.
As they sat on the couch in the den, Nathalie poured the coffee into the two mugs, put sugar and cream in hers and handed Andrew his. Like the macho man he was, he liked it black with nothing added. “What parts can you tell me?” Nathalie asked without preamble.
“We deploy tomorrow afternoon.”
That was unexpected. “During daylight?”
“Yeah, the plan involves ‘hikers’ who will go first and disable the surveillance cameras for us, one at a time, while we creep behind them.”
“I see.” Made sense. Hikers at night was not something one expected to see.
Suddenly, it dawned on her that he’d said we. “I thought you were not taking part in this. Being a ‘puny human’ and all.” She made air quotes.
“I’m not. I’m driving and helping whenever I’m needed, bringing up the rear.”
As if that was supposed to put her at ease.
Nathalie crossed her arms over her chest and pinned Andrew with an angry stare. “I don’t care. You shouldn’t be there at all. You said so yourself. These immortals are faster, stronger, and better trained than any elite special-forces unit. You are no match for them, Andrew. If you feel you must participate, you should be handling communications or something like that, miles away from the actual fighting.” Her voice was rising in volume and she was running out of breath as panic and anger began constricting her throat.
“I’m going to be fine.” Andrew pulled her into his arms.
She shook her head, but then sagged into his warmth, letting the hot tears flow and soak his shirt.
“Look, I’m not going to be anywhere near the fighting. I’m just driving the bus with the warriors, and Kri is driving the other one. They wouldn’t have allowed a female anywhere near the Doomers.”
Was he telling her the truth? Or was he feeding her a modified version to prevent hysterics? Nathalie wished she had Andrew’s gift of detecting lies.
Except, even if he wasn’t twisting things around for her sake, it didn’t mean she had no reason to worry about Andrew. Besides, Bhathian would be fighting, probably at the front line. She was getting nauseous just thinking about him getting hurt. Or worse.
He’d come into her life only recently, and she wanted more time with him. Much more time. They hadn’t talked face to face ever since Bhathian had revealed to her that he was her father. He’d been so busy training for this mission that he hadn’t had time for more than a phone call.
Nathalie had no idea how the families of servicemen could handle this. Every time their loved ones left the house there was a chance they would not be coming back. So yeah, to some extent it was true for everyone, but for a soldier the odds were higher by an order of magnitude.
“I can’t help worrying. I worry that Bhathian might get hurt. I worry that the Doomers will circle around and attack the rear. You can’t predict everything.”
“You’re right. Sometimes shit happens. But what is the alternative? Sit around and do nothing? Hope that someone else will do the job for us? Guess what? No one would. I’m capable and well trained. Even if I can’t join the front line in this fight, I feel obligated to do all I can from the back. I’m sure you can understand this, true?”
Oh, hell. He was right, and she had no choice but to nod in agreement. A man like Andrew, who had spent most of his adult life saving and defending people, couldn’t stand idly by, content to let others handle the job. It would have been devastating to his ego.
“What time do you need to be there?”
“We are meeting at nine in the morning to go over the details and leaving at three in the afternoon. It will get us there around five. The hope is that the Doomers will be busy with dinner, or at least part of them will. They are not expecting any attack at all, let alone one in broad daylight. The security will be lax.”
Hearing him talk about the upcoming battle, it all sounded so reasonable, so mundane—as if he
’d gone on missions like that so many times before that he was neither excited nor fearful at the prospect of yet another one.
“I wish I could just turn off this worry, but I can’t. There is a tornado swirling inside my stomach, making me nauseous and short of breath. I hate feeling like that, and I don’t know what to do about it.”
Andrew waggled his brows. “I can think of something that will take your mind off of it.”
“God, Andrew, is this the only thing you ever think about?”
“Pretty much. Yep. And especially now.” He leaned and in one swift move lifted her onto his lap—the hard length beneath her butt proving that he hadn’t been joking around.
“It’s late. Aren’t you supposed to be well rested before going out on a mission?”
“I don’t need to wake up early tomorrow, and besides, with the jacked up level of testosterone in my system, I won't be able to sleep anyway. I’d rather make love to you than to my fist.”
Nathalie chuckled. “As if I would let you cheat on me. Not even with your own hand.”
He nipped her earlobe. “I love it when you get all jealous and possessive. Makes me feel like a stud.”
“You are—my stud-muffin.” She wiggled her ass on top of his shaft, the friction pulling a hiss out of his mouth.
“Baby, you have no idea.” Andrew pushed to his feet, almost knocking over the folding tray table with their coffees as he rushed to the bedroom with her giggling in his arms.
Dropping her unceremoniously onto her bed, Andrew attacked her clothes, getting her naked in seconds. There had been no finesse to his moves, and it was a wonder none of her things had gotten torn as he’d jerked them off her body.
Maybe because she’d been helping him along, just as impatient.
Expecting Andrew to shuck his clothes next, she squeaked in surprise when he dove between her legs, spreading her thighs as far as they would go. Without a second delay, he began licking her in long drags from top to bottom and back again, groaning in pleasure as if she was his favorite flavor of ice cream.