Jean-Luc moved so fast he upset the goblet, dark blood staining the tablecloth. “I will not sit here and be accused of something I did not do. Rafe was here under the protection of Cinder and Cerberus, yet I am singled out. I may have been a Dark Angel once, but I swore loyalty to the Kaiser.”
“You are nervous, Jean-Luc,” D’Aquilla said, smirking. He pointed at small droplets of blood sliding down the man’s face. “If you are innocent, why are you sweating?”
“Why, indeed?” asked the Kaiser, his voice sounding deep and powerful. He stood and glided over to Jean-Luc. His shadow rose with him, making him appear taller than usual. He clasped Jean-Luc’s arm and forced the weaker vampire into a chair. “It’s time I learn who is loyal and who is not. We will start with Jean-Luc.”
“But I didn’t do it,” cried out Jean-Luc. He pointed at Salustra. “She did it! Salustra is the one who told me to release Rafe. She made arrangements to free Dragon and the other slaves with the help of Bechtel! It was their plan, not mine. I was just following orders.”
Watching close, Raven noticed Salustra neither trembled, nor grew nervous at the accusation. Captain Bechtel took a sip from his champagne, smirking. The Kaiser smiled at Raven, and with sudden, vicious speed, he plucked Jean-Luc from his chair and sank his fangs deep into the vampire’s throat. A groan escaped Jean-Luc as the Kaiser extracted every drop of blood before tossing the body to the floor, bones shattering on the tile.
“You should all see who I am in my true form,” the Kaiser said.
Stepping over Jean-Luc’s remnants, the Anax demon walked to Raven. With each step, he grew taller until he towered over six feet. Commanding a muscular frame with handsome features, he leaned down and kissed Raven’s forehead.
“What magic is this?” asked a stunned Raven.
“By choosing the form of a man much smaller than anyone else, I was testing you all. Most of you respected me out of fear. Some saw profit in it. A few of you believed I was weak.” He stepped back from Raven and spread out his arms, bristling with authority. “Is this shape more befitting your lord and master?”
“You have others?” asked D’Aquilla, worried. He put his hand on Madam Monique’s arm, keeping her from leaving her chair. Most of the vampires appeared nervous and frightened.
The Kaiser lowered his arms, turning his gaze upon him. “Maybe I do. The rest of you are made in my image, but none of you are as strong or powerful. It’s true. A spy destroyed my lab. Logan was no doubt responsible, but I shall find out who helped him. You will either serve me or suffer the same fate as Jean-Luc. I will have your oaths, now.” His words reverberated through the room, shaking the silverware and filling their ears.
Bechtel stepped forward. Shadowguard appeared in the room and took position behind each of the vampire lords’ chairs. The Turk, the large and powerful ruler of New York City, also rose from his chair. Others followed, including Mr. Rafferty, the west coast lord, along with Big Mike, the cowboy hat-wearing controller of the northern states.
“If you want us to swear our allegiance, Kaiser,” Big Mike said, “I would be the first to kiss you and your bride. I must admit, though, I’d prefer Raven.”
“I signed a contract to serve you and you alone,” D’Aquilla said, rising from his chair. He tossed aside his napkin. “Shall I sign one that assures you my soul upon my death? If that is what you want, then it is yours.”
Mr. Rafferty used the tablecloth to dab his forehead. It came away wet with blood. “When you gave me Los Angeles I swore an oath of faithful service to you, my lord. I will do whatever you ask.”
Raven had never seen her husband this angry before, and it set her heart racing. He was the fiercest man in the room. She had no doubt he could have killed every guest in a moment.
“I never questioned your loyalty, Salvatore. When I make you an immortal, you will then swear your soul. As for the rest of you who are Makers, I need you. Be at ease Mr. Rafferty, before you bleed from every orifice. Everyone here is a friend. If I suspected otherwise, you would be dead.” The room hung on his words, understanding the threat in his voice.
“I am loyal only to you, my lord and master,” Bechtel said, in a firm voice. “I have done my best to uncover the Dark Angel spies at the Citadel. Jean-Luc is but one of them. As for Salustra and Pallaton, I could not find proof they are involved. I am certain Rose orchestrated the prisoners’ escape with Logan’s help, and I’ll find out who her contacts are among the Shadowguard. I swear it.”
The Kaiser inclined his head as he took Raven by the hand. Brushing past the captain, they walked to the stairs. Bechtel cried out as the shadow slipped from the wall and enveloped him, before traveling up the stairs ahead of the couple. A smile appeared on Raven’s face as the terrified captain pushed through the Shadowguard and exited the front door.
“I want Bechtel replaced,” Raven said. “He’s not loyal to you. I’m sure of it.”
The door to the bridal chamber opened on its own, revealing a canopied bed and a roaring fire in the expansive fireplace. The shadow entered and caused the firelight to fade. Raven led her husband in, comforted by her new protector.
* * * * *
Chapter Sixteen
Highbrow woke from a dead sleep. Something cold and sharp pressed against his neck. His eyes adjusted, and he brought into focus a gray-bearded man crouched over his cot, holding a knife to his exposed carotid. Sparse moonlight revealed they were not alone. He was not sure how many others there were, as their camouflage blending well with the gloom. At least two men stood guard at the door, and another watched the window.
“Your bodyguard didn’t put up much of a fight.” The bearded man glanced over where Private Odin’s still form lay on the floor. “The kid ain’t dead, but he’ll have one helluva headache when he wakes up. Where’s the girl?”
“I don’t know,” Highbrow said. “Cadence left weeks ago and hasn’t been back.”
The leader pricked Highbrow’s throat with his knife. His breath reeked of booze, onions, and tobacco. Highbrow grabbed the man’s wrist, pulling the knife back. A dribble of blood slid down his neck.
“That’s no answer. Tell us where she’s at, boy, and I may leave you with your skin. I’m handy with a knife. Don’t bother shouting for your guards. There aren’t any left to help you, Captain. Where’s she gone?”
“Kill me, and you’ll never find her,” Highbrow said, trying to sound braver than he was.
The leader drew back and slugged Highbrow. The strike broke Highbrow’s nose and cut open his lip. A few more blows left Highbrow dazed and in considerable pain.
“You ready to cooperate?”
Highbrow grabbed his nose and shifted the cartilage back in place. He wiped it and spat out a mouthful of blood. Someone must have noticed the bounty hunters entering the camp. He expected soldiers to arrive any moment. He had to stall.
“What is the Kaiser paying you? I’ll double it.”
“Vamps pay with weapons, booze, and women. They allow us to go where we want, when we want, and that’s something you can’t offer. Dawn’s breaking. I’ll give you 10 seconds before I slice your throat. Where’s the girl?”
Highbrow caught his breath as he felt a thump on the underside of the bed. No one else noticed as Barbarella stirred. “You can’t trust the Kaiser. The Shadowguard never keep their word. I hope you were paid in advance. Even if you give them what they want, they’ll kill you. That’s what they do. They kill humans.”
“What a crock of shit. The soldier boy’s not going to tell us a damn thing,” a man with pockmarks on his face said. “I say we blow the barricade sky high, let the zombies in, and get the hell out of here. These dumb kids will never know what hit ‘em. We can double-back and look for the girl in Manitou Springs.”
“Shut it,” the leader said. “I’m not spending the next few days scouring the countryside. This is an in-and-out job.” He pulled back his arm, ready to hit Highbrow again. “Where is your commander, Captain Highbrow? Last chan
ce.”
“We had a fight,” Highbrow said. “Cadence is infected and dangerous. She took off with my best fighters a few weeks ago and hasn’t been heard from since. The radio is out, so is the phone. The only way Cadence can contact us is to come here. She’s not welcome and knows it. If she’s not at Pike’s Peak, she’ll pick a place close to the Citadel that is well-defended. She can’t be far, but your guess is as good as mine.”
“Wrong answer, punk!”
Highbrow scrambled, intending to reason with the leader, but found himself struck in the face once again. A well-placed kick sent Highbrow flopping back onto the cot. As he struggled to rise a second time, the pockmarked man drew his hunting knife and lunged. A brief scuffle left the blade lodged between Highbrow’s ribs. Searing pain reduced Highbrow to an unresisting lump the moment his attacker pulled the knife free. He pressed a hand to the wound, knowing he had but minutes to live and shouted for help.
“Barbarella! Kill!”
From beneath the cot rose a low, fierce growl. The bounty hunters were fear-stricken as the enormous werepuma appeared from under the bed and attacked them. One blow from her black paw ripped the red-scarfed man’s head from his shoulders. She turned her attention to the leader and sank her teeth into his neck. Both men collapsed, dead before they hit the ground. Shouts, screams, and gunfire erupted from the other hunters, rupturing the walls and shattering the windows. Highbrow threw himself to the floor, trying to avoid the terrified men, and crawled toward Odin. He grabbed the unconscious private’s leg and pulled him behind the desk as blood showered them both.
The door crashed open. A bounty hunter turned to flee and impaled himself on Dragon’s katana. The longhaired Chameleon struck down a second man, and panic spread as Dragon and his swords vanished from sight, then reappeared, killing the bounty hunters where they stood. Barbarella pulled a bounty hunter from the window and shook him like a rag doll. The hunter fired a few more rounds before he was slammed to the floor.
Dragon flipped on the lights. He bled from several gunshot wounds to his chest, but remained steady on his feet. Barbarella lay on top of the grisly remains of a bounty hunter, just inches from Highbrow. In the fray, her claws had gashed Highbrow’s leg, though he felt no pain. As he inched forward trying to reach Barbarella, Dragon knelt beside the werepuma. He lifted her massive head, but the werepuma did not respond.
“Micah is outside with Sterling and your soldiers. I don’t think any bounty hunters escaped.” Dragon tore a black scarf from his neck and pressed it against the hole in Highbrow’s side. “This is bad. I’m sorry we didn’t get here sooner.”
“I don’t have long to live,” Highbrow said, unable to hold back his emotions. “Take over for me, Dragon. You have to move the camp to Cadence’s hiding place. Tell her I’m sorry, and that I love her.”
“Tell her yourself.”
Dragon sheathed his sword and ripped open Highbrow’s pant leg, examining the deep wounds. He dabbed his fingers in a bleeding cut on his own forehead and touched the hole in Highbrow’s ribs and the punctures on his leg. Dragon found another scarf on the floor and wrapped the bite mark. Lifting Highbrow into a chair, Dragon turned to check on Odin. The young man was starting to come around.
“What happened?” asked Odin. “My head feels like a cracked egg.”
“Bounty hunters,” Dragon said, pulling Odin to his feet. He helped the soldier onto Highbrow’s cot. “You’re lucky to be alive. It’s just a bump.”
Micah appeared in the doorway. “Is everyone alright?”
The white-haired vampire held a bloodied sword and a pistol, but was unscathed. He took one look at Highbrow and Barbarella, and then glanced out the door. Pallaton and Rose appeared, both damp with snow, blood, and zombie sludge. Rose dropped her backpack and knelt beside the werepuma.
“We’re too late,” Rose said, as she examined the body. When she raised her hands, they were slick with blood. “There are so many gunshot wounds it’s a wonder she could keep fighting. I’m sorry, Highbrow, but there’s nothing I can do for her.”
“It’s my fault she’s dead,” Odin said. He sat beside her as she transformed into human form. Rose covered her with a blanket. “I never got a chance to tell her, Doc. She was the bravest girl I ever met.”
“I’m sorry, Odin,” Rose said in a gentle voice. “Her death isn’t your fault. Nor is it Highbrow’s. She died trying to save you. That was a brave thing to do.”
Odin nodded, his eyes streaming. He lowered his head, lips pulled taught and unable to speak.
“Why is he here?” Highbrow struggled to ask, jabbing a finger in Pallaton’s direction. His grief was bordering on anger. “How dare you show your face. Can’t you see what you’ve done? Do you know how many lives you’ve taken already?”
The former Shadowguard captain looked menacing with an eye patch. Pallaton’s left eye focused on Highbrow.
“My purpose in coming was to help Rose and the Dark Angels. I came to warn them about the bounty hunters,” Pallaton said, “but found Rose pinned down on the highway in a skirmish between the hunter’s scouts and zombies. Micah and Dragon showed up and convinced me to come with them to camp. Perhaps I shouldn’t have bothered. None of this has any meaning now that Raven has married the Kaiser.”
Rose stood between them. “Enough of this. I know what he’s done in the past, but he’s a Dark Angel. Barbarella’s death was not his fault. I won’t let any harm come to him.” She glanced at Pallaton. “Are you staying? You can’t go back to the Citadel.”
“The Kaiser will kill you if you return,” Micah said. “Forget Raven. She’s lost to you. I’ll smooth things over with Tandor and Picasso. They’ll understand you were trying your best to protect this camp. We don’t blame you for these attacks.”
“I damn well do!” Highbrow winced as his ribs flared with pain. “You’re not welcome in my camp, Pallaton. I don’t care what Rose or Micah say. Because of you, three of my patrols are dead.”
“Because of me Rose is alive. I know you don’t trust me, Captain, and I don’t blame you. If you allow me, I intend to return to the Citadel and help free the rest of your people and Raven.”
Before Highbrow could protest, Pallaton had vanished. Micah and Dragon cleared out the bodies. Rose reached in her backpack and gave two aspirins to Odin. He threw them back without water and gagged.
“You’ll be fine, young man,” Rose said. She laid a blanket over him and turned to Highbrow. “How are you holding up, Captain?”
Highbrow shrugged. He brushed at a tickle on his face and became concerned. He felt a single, thick whisker protruding from his cheek. “What’s on my face?”
The vampire doctor looked startled. Highbrow pulled a whisker out of his face and stared at it. Rose peeled the scarf from his stomach. She probed the wound and lifted his shirt. Pink scar tissue had replaced the hole in his stomach. The doctor unwrapped the other scarf, running her fingers along the bite marks. Both wounds had healed.
“This is odd, Highbrow. How did you survive a stab wound, unless….” Rose met Highbrow’s concerned gaze. “You’re infected. Dragon and Barbarella. It’s the only explanation for your recovery. Your wounds have already healed.”
“Highbrow is a Chameleon?” Odin asked through his tears. “And a werepuma?”
Rose took the whisker out of Highbrow’s hand and looked over it. “It’s a cat whisker,” she said.
In the distance, Highbrow heard the doors to the barracks open. His ears twitched as he picked up a conversation between Dragon and Sterling. He scanned a further distance and could hear groups of children outside talking all at once. Trying to sift through the voices, he focused on Dragon and heard him say the bounty hunters were dead. Nomad found their cars parked down the road. After Lt. Sterling alerted the camp, the officer sent the Dark Angels to the ridge to scout for Shadowguard. Highbrow closed his eyes and ran his fingers across the new scar tissue.
“I’m no longer human, Rose.” Highbrow glanced over to see
the vampire comforting his bodyguard. She smiled, sympathetic. Highbrow snapped to his feet. “I need fresh air. It reeks of death in here. Stay with Odin a while, please? I’ve got to sort things out in my head.”
“I understand,” Rose said, “but it isn’t the end of the world.”
Unable to listen anymore, Highbrow snatched his coat and stumbled out. Slain bodies were being loaded onto a truck, and Barbarella was carried out with respect.
The Bulldogs, Blue Devils, Panthers, Razorbacks, Valkyries, and a few remaining Amazons stood near the trucks. These were the last of the teen patrols. Highbrow gazed up as the morning sun streamed through the frost-covered tree limbs, noting how everything smelled differently and appeared much brighter. His senses were sharper. Cadence must have felt lost when she changed too. He wondered if his teams would still follow him when they learned the truth.
Aware of the sound of boots crunching through snow, Highbrow turned to watch Nomad walk toward him.
“Barbarella was a remarkable young lady,” Nomad said. “She was the reason more ladies didn’t die or get infected when that puma attacked her team. Always selfless. I sometimes thought she’d become one of your best officers.”
“Instead, I’m burying her,” Highbrow said. “Barbarella loved the trails near Midnight Falls. Will you help me bury her there?”
“Of course,” Nomad said, looking back at the teen patrols. “I’m sure they will want to join you. I doubt they would stay away even if you ordered them to. Funerals and grief bring people closer together. ”
Highbrow nodded. “Anyone who wants to come is welcome. I’d appreciate you asking the teams, Nomad. They respect and admire you. I’m not sure they will feel the same about me. Some may blame me for Barbarella’s death.”
The scruffy biker walked to the crowd of teenagers and shared the news with them. At once the teams loaded into a nearby passenger vehicle. Nomad joined them and climbed behind the wheel. Dragon and Odin delivered Barbarella to the vehicle and handed her body to the teams. With care, they positioned her in their midst.
Dead Hearts (Book 3): Vengeful Hearts Page 18