by Karen Payton
Connor relaxed a little. He felt certain Marius would not have seen anything over the last few weeks to change that view.
Juror Alexander appeared less indulgent of Serge, and glared at him as though it would speed up the process.
“Threatening the food supply is the charge I seek.” Serge’s sallow face wore a tentative grin. He could not even pretend to gloat.
Connor quickly veiled his amusement. He expected to stand there with a group of human captives to parade before the council; instead he has eight missing guardsmen.
“Have we not been here before, Councilor? You had nothing then and have nothing now.” Julian locked him in a disapproving glare. “Please, stop wasting the council’s time.” As Serge opened his mouth to protest, Julian raised his hand. “I know this girl lies in the mortuary, however, you cannot prove Doctor Connor is responsible for her death. Therefore, you have nothing.”
“If I could just examine the body. She was my property, after all,” Serge said weakly, making a last ditch attempt to persuade the jury.
“Last time I looked, Councilor Serge, you had not been elevated to juror status.” Julian’s rigid spine impressed his indignation on the court. “Are you suggesting the inspection of the girl’s corpse by Doctor Connor and Juror Marius is not good enough?”
“That is certainly not my intention.” Serge backtracked with reluctance. Still clinging to the prize, he added, “I just thought, with such a brief introduction to her in court, Juror Marius-”
“I have all my faculties, Councilor.” Marius stirred to answer. His dark eyes were dead pools as his lips condescended to smile. “I need no help from those of lower ranks.”
“We have examined the body. We are satisfied.” Julian looked to Alexander for agreement.
Alexander’s inclined head closed the argument.
Julian addressed the assembled vampires, avoiding looking in Connor’s direction. “Doctor Connor removed the girl from the farm. That much is true. Surgical Assistant Anthony’s testified that it was for her protection. The wardens confirmed the attack in the examination room.”
White faces in the gallery bobbed minutely in a ripple of agreement.
Julian met Connor’s calculated candor. “Doctor Connor could not have predicted the girl would commit suicide; therefore, he is guilty only of ignorance.” Julian resisted the twitch of amusement as Connor’s eyes sparked at the patronizing comment. “And maybe, stupidity. Case dismissed.” Julian pronounced.
The courtroom emptied quickly, and even Serge melted away.
Julian jerked his head, indicating Connor should join him in his chambers.
The jurors vacated the bench with fluid efficiency and the door thumped closed behind them, leaving Connor alone to enjoy the calm. The storm has been weathered, for now.
As he left the court, passing through the door and swinging left to join Julian in his chambers, the obstacle of Marius blocked his path.
“Juror Marius?” Connor raised an inquiring brow.
Marius tidied his slick dark hair and pinned Connor in his sights. “Every now and again, a vampire does something extraordinary,” he said slowly, weighing his words.
Connor nodded, but held his tongue.
Marius’ jet eyes gleamed with sober intent. “I wonder, Doctor Connor, are you such a vampire?”
“You flatter me, Juror Marius,” said Connor. “There is nothing extraordinary about me. That is, unless you count my talent for riling Councilor Serge.”
“You certainly have that.” Marius smiled solemnly as he stepped aside. “Well I mustn’t keep you, Principal Julian is waiting.”
“Of course.” Connor smiled in his turn, bowing his head as he walked past the juror and continued on along the hallway.
Stopping abruptly, he rapped his knuckles on the door and entered at Julian’s familiar command of ‘Come’.
“So, Anthony backed me up?” Connor asked quietly.
Julian’s face was serious. He finished hanging his robes in the wardrobe before answering. “He did, yes. But knowing him as I do, he was clearly fighting some demons. I did not press him in court, but if I had? I don’t know. You need to talk to him.”
Connor smiled grimly. “Believe me, I tried. He was not at the hospital. When I bumped into him outside the courtroom, his mood was… uninviting, to put it mildly.”
“Well, before he changes his testimony, find him.”
Connor nodded slowly, turning a speculative glance on Julian. “Oh, by the way, I just had an interesting encounter with Marius.”
Julian smiled. “He’s astute. He misses the old life, and he envies your fervor. But, he knows nothing about the humans.”
“Is he dangerous?”
“No, I think not. A minor complication, nothing more.” Julian crossed to his favored spot by the hearth and landed a blow on Connor’s shoulder as he swept past. “For now, it seems you are in the clear, so celebrate.”
Connor shrugged the fist-shaped dent from the fabric of his coat and grinned, surprised when the astringency of alcohol stung his sinuses.
Replacing the crystal stopper in the decanter, Julian turned a hundred watt grin on Connor. “Cheers,” he said with determined high spirits as he handed over a glass.
“Really?” Connor laughed. Swilling the brandy around the bowl, he raised a brow.
“Come, you’ve done this before, pretended to eat in front of humans.” Julian laughed in his turn. “It’s like eating beetles and worms, not good for you, but you can do it for a dare.”
“We’re not home free, you know. Serge will come back with something.” Connor frowned. “And, that vampire in the woods is a concern. If he was one of Serge’s, he would have been here today, and Serge would have made his case. I don’t like it.”
“I don’t like it either, but I’ve got his scent. If he turns up, I have Douglas’ body as evidence. We have a good shot at shutting him down. You are ready to move the humans out, in any case, so Serge will soon have nothing. Harry’s made up enough beta-blockers and pheromone spray to last?”
“It’s a two day hike to the derelict church, but yes, they are ready to move. The catacombs underneath the chapel are easy to guard, so they will be safe. It will be too cold to stay for any length of time, but, as a halfway house, it will do.”
“Well, in that case, honestly? I think we need to celebrate. If not the war, we won a battle today.” Julian put the glass to his lips, tossed it back and swallowed the burn. “Mmm, it’s not as bad I remember,” he spluttered.
“Okay.” Connor, resigned to the ritual, threw his head back and emptied the glass. He tilted his head and screwed up one eye. “I agree, Rebekah’s burn is far worse.”
“Oh, get out of here,” said Julian. He nudged Connor hard in the ribs. “I’m sure you can find a better way to celebrate, but, Connor?” Julian’s voice arrested Connor’s departure in midflight. “First, find Anthony.”
Chapter 40
Connor did not need to be told twice. First, find Anthony. A swift detour through the blood dispensary at the hospital confirmed a sneaking suspicion. Anthony went out with a hunting party, so he’s definitely angry. Not really surprised, but Connor felt irritation at the additional delay. The moment of his reunion with Rebekah scampered further away.
Covering the two hundred miles to the gateway of the hunting park at Exeter in fifteen minutes; it provided a blissful release of the tension Connor had carried since he stepped into the morgue and dressed the dead woman in Leizle’s hair.
As the thunderclouds in the dark sky cleared away, moonlight broke through and glinted on the metal strands of the eighteen foot tall chain-link barrier. The imposing perimeter fence meandered across the landscape from coast to coast, and even Connor’s vampire vision could not see an end to it.
With the human ghost town of Exeter lying behind him, Connor reined in his speed and performed an emergency stop when he ran out of road.
The boundary of the vast expanse of Dartmoor scrubland
was manned by vampire game wardens, supposedly to keep the big cats inside, but Connor knew better. The stocks here were as important to regulate as those of the human farm, and, a rotation of the hunting zones prevented the park being stripped of breeding pairs.
He stopped at the Exeter gate and waited until the warden ushered him inside and directed him to the brick built changing station. A vampire met him at the turnstile counter and Connor recited his unique identification number.
“LH5839204.”
As though he had the thousands of numbers tattooed inside his head, without batting an eyelid, the vampire said, “Ah, Doctor Connor. How are things at the London Hive?”
“Challenging, as always,” Connor smiled and took the parcel of clothes tagged with his personalized number. Turning away, he stopped as if a thought had just occurred to him. “Surgical Assistant Anthony of the London Hive, did he make it down here today?”
“Yes, he did.”
“And, are we in the same zone?” said Connor with a persuasive half-smile.
“I’m sure that can be arranged.” The warden barely paused retrieving Anthony’s information. “Zone B”
“Thank you.”
Connor strode away, anxious to get changed and track Anthony down.
The moorland was three hundred and fifty square miles divided into three one-hundred-square-mile zones, with a fifty-square-mile nursery. There were other hunting grounds at Bodmin Moor, but each hive member had their favorite haunts.
Anthony and Connor were no different. They had their own habitual hunting paths within each zone, so Connor was hopeful this would not be too difficult.
He entered the cavernous changing barn. It resembled an old library with twelve foot tall double-sided shelving units dividing the internal space into rows. Instead of books, the shelves were loaded with wooden crates. Collecting a crate and crossing to a wooden bench, Connor stripped off his clothes, folded them roughly, and dropped them inside. Unashamedly naked, he returned the crate to its numbered slot. Limbering up rock hard muscle as he moved, Connor returned to the bench, unwrapped his hunting package, and stepped into a leather loincloth which fit his never-changing physique like a glove. Modesty flaps at back and front brushed his thighs when he moved.
He left the changing area by the rear door, pausing when a vampire warden appeared and filled Connor’s outstretched palms with oil which he used to slick back his hair and rub over his torso. A daub of blue paint on his left shoulder blade allocated his hunting zone as B, and, when the gate into the moorland opened, Connor broke into a forceful run.
He covered ten miles, oblivious of the crosswind snatching at his body, and effortlessly scaled one of the large outcrops of granite where, in the height of summer, big cats laid out and sunned themselves. The artificial landscape provided stimulation for prey and hunting vampires alike. Offering caves, dens, and densely packed trees, both species had everything they needed to get the most out of their time here.
Right now, Connor just wanted to locate Anthony. From his vantage point, scanning the moonlit terrain, Connor watched hunting parties weaving through the trees. He hunkered down and waited for Anthony in what was their favorite resting place. How long will he be?
Distant flurries of movement, and the ebb and flow of snarls torn from vocal chords, punctuated the passing minutes. Connor honed in on each, hoping for a recognizable feature which would tell him it was Anthony.
Hearing movement thundering through the undergrowth, Connor’s eyes narrowed as a Siberian tiger broke cover with Anthony loping after it. If any doubts remained about Anthony’s mood, they were wiped out as, closing the gap, he launched himself forward and, in mid flight, wrapped his arms around the tiger’s chest. He dragged the cat to its knees with its paws still scrabbling as its brain yelled ‘keep running’. The tiger’s roar stuttered into a bellow of pain when Anthony tightened his grip. The feline ribcage imploded with a sickening wet muffled crunch. Anthony, grimacing until the tendons in his neck bulged, filled the night air with his own ferocious growl.
Connor frowned and rose silently to his feet. This should be a piece of cake.
The moonlight glimmered over Connor’s oiled body as he stood tall, and Anthony’s head snapped around, every muscle in his hefty frame turning to stone. His brown eyes glittered as they bored into Connor’s.
With a sharp nod, Connor sank back down on his haunches.
Moments later, Anthony dropped down beside him, dragging his hands down over his blood splattered face and wiping them on his loin cloth.
“Feeling better, I hope?” asked Connor carefully. Tuning out the red smudges staining his skin, he measured Anthony’s attitude, unflinching. This is crunch time.
Anthony’s jaw muscle ticked as the glittering excitement of the hunt faded. His usual reverence skulked in the depths, but his affront at Connor’s treatment of him surged forward. “Why?”
This was no time for shorthand, Connor needed to be clear. “Why? Why did I cut her? Why did I inject you with muscle relaxant?”
Anthony swallowed and flexed his fists. As a boxer, he would rather punch Connor than talk. As a vampire with aspirations to be as well respected as Connor, he had more sense. He nodded. “Both.”
“I apologize for using you, Anthony. I had to think fast to save the female from Serge.” Connor paused to make sure Anthony was listening. “The girl was going to be the first in the hybrid breeding program.” Connor’s lip curled with genuine disgust.
“Hybrid?” Anthony frowned. “Serge had the council’s consent for that?”
Connor knew he was tap-dancing now, bending the truth. “He had applied for it, yes.” Connor’s oiled chest heaved with pretended indignation. “I couldn’t let it happen. Serge is a deluded sadist.” Connor let his words sink in. “I had to intervene.”
Staring out, as though his concerns were written across the star-studded sky, Connor carefully chose words loaded with feeling. Anthony would know he meant every word. “It’s a crime against nature. We are an unnatural species. A hybrid is a step into the unknown. It cannot be allowed to happen.” For a moment, Connor lost himself in his own passion. “Would a hybrid breed be an immortal food supply enabling the likes of Serge to live forever? Or would he magnanimously die, allowing them to become the new immortals who no longer depended upon humans to survive?” Connor’s face tightened with a snarl. “The consequences are too horrific to contemplate.”
Antagonism drained from Anthony’s body. His shoulders relaxed as he shifted his weight, and Connor knew he had him.
Connor rubbed his hand over his face in real regret. “After the other girls’ deaths, I did hope to save her. I’m only sorry it turned out badly.” Not everything is a lie.
Anthony digested what Connor had said in silence.
Connor waited too. Having spent decades as a surgical intern, Connor hoped Anthony would not throw it all away.
“I understand your contempt for the hybrid scheme,” Anthony said at last. With an expression of understanding, he added firmly, “I guess we’ll just forget it?”
“That is what I hoped. I’ve known you a long time, I knew you would understand.” Connor dropped a hand onto Anthony’s solid shoulder. “And thank you, for trusting me enough to keep your doubts to yourself. Of course, the council may call upon you again-”
Anthony shrugged. “I have already told them the girl was startled and tried to run. The cut was an accident and I lost it. That about covers it, I’d say.”
Connor raised a brow as he said, “I’ll see you tomorrow, back at the hospital for rounds?”
Anthony nodded decisively.
Connor felt happy that, for now at least, Anthony was on board. It was enough. Though, I’ll need to be around when the questions start eating at him, as they surely will. He’s not stupid.
Surging to his feet, Connor reached out a hand and pulled Anthony up beside him. “I hope I haven’t ruined your night, but I didn’t want this to get in the way.”
&nb
sp; “We haven’t hunted together for a while. Seeing as we’re here, why don’t you join me?”
Frustration cramped Connor’s chest as he swallowed his refusal and smiled. “Sure, I’ve got an hour to kill.”
Anthony laughed and landed a blow on Connor’s shoulder much harder than he expected.
<><><>
Three hours later, the weather turned, and as always in England, when it rained, it poured.
After saying goodbye to Anthony, Connor changed back into his day clothes and cruised at top speed across the countryside. Closing in on the eco-town, he barely noticing the driving rain beating down. His body hummed with anticipation, and, easing back from a run to a prowling walk, he entered the eco-town tunnels.
Scraping wet hair out of his eyes, he sluiced away diamond-hued droplets which ran down his neck and lay shimmering on his skin. Moving purposefully along the dimly lit passageway, he arrived outside Rebekah’s den. Leaning back against the wall, he paused to listen, and absorb the scent and taste of her. Flattening his palms in a feline-like caress over the tunnel wall, his stroking fingertips carved grooves into the flint-hard surface. Connor was where he wanted to be, and all thoughts of Anthony melted away.
Sinking into revival sleep, he pushed away from the wall and stepped over the threshold. He laughed at her stunned expression as, for a moment, Rebekah’s mouth fell open. But in the next, she rushed forward and threw herself into his arms, laughing too, when he whisked her around.
Setting her back on the ground, he held her away from him, and gazing into her flushed face burned pleasure through him.
“You’re home,” she whispered, and he suddenly realized that he was.
“I’m home, but I’m very grubby, and wet,” he grinned.
Hanging firmly on to his shirt, Rebekah said urgently, “Did it all go okay? Leizle’s hair worked?”
“Yes, it worked.” His long fingers stabbed through his own greasy hair as he said, “But we have not tracked down the vampire that touched you.”