He nodded like a bobblehead doll. Olivia released her hold on the weak-minded man, and they whisked to the first floor hallway, leaving the clerk alone and bewildered. They ducked around the corner, and Doug snagged her around the waist with one strong arm and placed a kiss on her head.
“You are something else, do you know that?”
“I have my moments,” she murmured. Olivia held up the keycard and flashed him her fangs. “Time to clean house.”
They flew up the stairwell, and the stench of the rogues grew more pungent. It was strongest at the ninth floor landing and stuck in Olivia’s throat.
“We do one room at a time,” she said, peering through the small window at the top of the door. “And we do it as quietly as possible.”
“Shit.” Doug ran a hand over his mouth. “I can’t imagine this is gonna be fuckin’ quiet. Vamps make a lot of damn noise when they get dusted.”
“Not much of a choice.” Olivia gripped the door handle and drew her gun. “Ready?”
Doug nodded and drew both guns, but he captured her gaze before she ducked through the door. “Be careful, Liv.”
“You too, detective.”
Olivia ran the key through the reader on the first door, swung the door open, and they whipped into the room with guns raised. Olivia had seen plenty of death and destruction in her day, but this place looked like something out of a horror film.
The next three rooms they checked were the same, and all told, there were over thirty dead humans, but no vampires. Doug said nothing, though she sensed his rage building, knowing it was only a matter of time before he completely lost it. His anger ticked up twice as much with the dead women.
With only one room left, no sign of the rogues, and sunrise thirty minutes away, Olivia was beginning to think they found a new place to nest and had abandoned this one. She and Doug stood outside the last room, and just before she opened it, a familiar scent filled her nostrils. She flicked her wide eyes to Doug and saw that he’d picked up on it as well.
Jerry.
“That little weasel,” Doug seethed.
He kicked the door open, and side by side, they stepped into the room with guns raised. “Wait,” Olivia shouted. “Don’t shoot.”
Jerry was chained to the bed and blindfolded. Thick ropes of silver were wrapped around his neck and gagged his mouth, while all four of his limbs were lashed to the bedposts.
Michael Moriarty stood calmly next to him with a gun pointed at his head.
“Took you long enough,” Moriarty snapped. He inched the gun closer to Jerry, who was passed out cold. While Olivia was pretty damn mad that her snitch had snitched on her, she didn’t want him to die. Moriarty flicked his beady eyes to Olivia. “Your friend here decided to warn The Maker and tell him about your little visit.”
“Who turned you, Michael?” Olivia tightened her grip on the gun. The faint scent of Rogue One filled the room like a phantom. “Tell us, or you’re going to end up like the rest of the rogues.”
“I gotta admit—I freaked the fuck out when I woke up at the medical examiner’s office, but once I got a taste of her and drank her sweet blood… everything felt better.”
“You killed Miranda?” Doug said through clenched teeth. “Too bad you and your maker missed our little party in the tunnels.”
“Yeah, he was pretty steamed that you two wiped out his brand-new coven.” He jutted his chin out. “I mean, there was a hell of a party around here, and you had to go and ruin it.”
“Moriarty,” Doug said tightly. “You and me go way back, and you know I’m not going to play these games. You’re gonna go down one way or the other. Human. Vampire. Cloud of dust. I don’t give a shit.”
“Paxton,” he spat. “Even as a vampire, you’re a pain in my ass. I know this will be a blow to your overblown ego, but this whole situation has nothing to do with you.” Moriarty smirked and shook his head as he leered at Olivia. “What the hell did you do to piss him off so bad, huh? You know, you’re the whole reason he came back to New York and started getting this coven together. Then, after you wiped ’em all out in the tunnels last night, I wanted to help him build it again. He was so steamed all he could think about was killing you and hitting you where it hurts, so he’s moved on to phase two. He left me here with Jerry so I could give you a message.”
“Me? Phase two?” Olivia’s brow furrowed as she struggled to understand what this could possibly have to do with her. “What are you talking about, Moriarty?”
A smile slithered across his face as he leered at her. “Been back to your club tonight, Olivia?”
Panic slammed into her as she realized what he meant. “Oh my God.”
Moriarty laughed. Olivia saw the microscopic movement of his finger tightening on the trigger, but before he could shoot, she flew across the room, tackling him against the wall. His gun fired and clattered to the floor.
Somewhere through the frenzy of rage, she could hear Doug’s voice calling her name as she sank her fangs into Moriarty’s neck and ripped his throat out. Blood sprayed over her as she tore his head from his body, turning him into a cloud of smoking ash.
Shaking with fury and drowning in panic, two strong hands gripped her arms and shook her, pulling her from the abyss. As her vision cleared, she found herself looking into a pair of painfully beautiful blue eyes—eyes that were laced with worry and a touch of fear.
“Liv?” He said her name gently as his fingers curled around her upper arms. “Liv, are you alright? Hey, can you hear me?”
She blinked as the fog lifted. Olivia allowed herself to lean against Doug’s body for support as she regained her bearings. It had been a long time since she lost it like that, and it was more unsettling than she remembered.
She glanced to the bed and saw the bullet had missed Jerry, and although Doug had released him from the silver, he was pretty banged up. The burns were healing; however, the little guy was pretty out of it.
“Wake up and get out of here, Jerry,” she said in an unsteady voice.
“I’m sorry, Olivia.” His dark eyes filled with tears, and his slim body shook uncontrollably as he struggled to remain conscious. “I was going to call you, but didn’t want you to be mad at me for being big jerk.”
The cold hand of panic grabbed her by the throat as everything that Moriarty said came rushing back. Olivia clutched the front of Doug’s coat. “The girls and Damien.”
A sob choked her as it all came together.
“Oh my God.” Her wide eyes latched onto Doug. “The Maker—it’s Vincent, and he’s going to kill my family.”
* * *
Chapter 16
As they approached The Coven, Doug’s concern for Olivia grew with each passing moment. She kept trying to communicate with the girls since they left the apartment but was met with a deafening silence. Apprehension and worry rolled off her in thick waves, and when he suggested they get Pete, she balked at the idea. There was no time.
Doug could feel the pull of the sun as it began to rise. He hoped like hell that it wouldn’t weaken him, but he figured it would affect this asshole Vincent the same way. The only positive thing he could find in their current situation was that they still had a full set of ammo and a boatload of sterling silver.
When they reached the club, they went to the back entrance in the alley. Doug grabbed Olivia’s arm and turned her to face him. In the dim light he could still see her green eyes clearly, and they were hard, cold, and full of vengeance, but he also sensed fear. She was terrified that the girls and Damien were already dead.
“Wait a second.” He took her face in both hands and paused, wanting to choose his words carefully. She resisted. “Hey. I know we have to get in there, but listen to me for a second.”
Doug’s gut clenched as he stared into the pools of green. She always tried to act so tough, and when he saw her lose it back at the hotel, s
he revealed her vulnerability.
“I know you’re frightened and worried about the girls, but we can’t go running in there half-cocked. We need a game plan.” He dropped his hands and folded them over his chest, wanting to give her the freedom to take the lead, even though it went against his nature. “You lead, and I’ll follow, but I want to make sure we’re on the same page.”
“It’s quite simple really.” Her jaw set defiantly. “We get in there and see what’s going on inside the club. Then we blow Vincent’s arrogant fucking head off.”
“What about the girls?” Her stern expression faltered at his mention of the girls. “I know you don’t want to accept it, but it’s possible that they could be dead already.”
“No.” Olivia shook her head furiously. “They might be incapacitated, but they’re not dead. I’d know it, Doug. They’re a part of me, and I believe that I’d feel it if they were destroyed.” Her mouth set in a grim line, and her voice dropped. “I will not lose them.”
Before he could say another word, she spun on her heel, and instead of going to the door, she shoved the dumpster aside as if it weighed nothing, revealing yet another entrance to the network of tunnels. “You didn’t think I would walk right into the club, did you?”
Doug smiled and shook his head as they dropped silently into the tunnels beneath the club. They flew down the corridor and then up a flight of stairs, stopping outside her office, but Doug grabbed her arm before she opened the door.
I can feel movement in the building, and if I can sense them, Liv… His mind touched hers. Then they can obviously sense us, so I’d say any element of surprise is out of the question. He released the safety on both of his guns. “Ready?”
Olivia nodded once and drew both of her weapons. She hit the red panel to the left of the door with her shoulder while Doug stood ready with both barrels pointed at the door. She squatted below Doug’s guns and trained her weapons on the small office as well, but it was empty.
They slipped inside as the door shut soundlessly. Pounding music from the club filled the space, and he could feel the deep bass beat through his entire body. The club may have been closed, but it sounded like good old Vincent was having a private party.
Doug went to the door and listened intently, taking full advantage of his enhanced hearing. Even above the music he could make out the sound of a man talking. He didn’t recognize the voice, and he heard a woman weeping softly.
Anger fired through him as he fought his instinct to open the door and start shooting. He had no idea what condition the girls were in, and he didn’t want to jeopardize them further.
Olivia was at her computer and typing away on the keyboard, trying to pull up her security cameras. Motherfucker. Her voice shot into his mind with all the force she’d intended. He disabled my security cameras.
No more dicking around. Doug tilted his head to the door. I’ll go in first, and you follow. Vincent obviously wants you, and he is using your coven to get you. The more I think about it, the more I’m convinced he hasn’t killed the girls. In my experience, guys like this want an audience, and if he were going to kill them then he’d want you to see it.
Olivia’s eyes widened briefly before her expression settled back into a mask of calm. Open the door. She rose from her chair and raised her weapons. Now.
Doug threw a prayer to the universe. He turned the knob slowly, then swung it open and pressed his body against the wall before peering around the corner. The hall leading to the main floor of the club was empty.
The music tumbled around them, and the lights flashed as though it was Friday night and the club had a packed house—but they knew better. Guns extended, Doug stepped through the door and moved slowly down the short hallway with Olivia at his side. When they reached the opening to the main floor, she stopped dead in her tracks, and he felt her begin to shake.
Trixie was lashed to the top of the bar with several ropes of sterling and looked passed out, if not worse. She wasn’t moving, and through the flashing, colorful lights, Doug could see smoke rising from her flesh as it burned beneath the silver.
At the center of the dance floor, her bouncer Damien was tied to a chair and gagged. His head lolled back, and blood soaked the white T-shirt he wore. Even with the music, Doug could hear the faint, dwindling sound of his heartbeat.
There was one other faint heartbeat coming from the German shepherd. Van Helsing lay bleeding on the floor by Damien’s feet, and his tail lifted briefly, acknowledging Olivia’s presence.
They inched farther into the club side by side, and as they reached open space, they shifted so that they were again back-to-back and ready to battle. Doug, facing the DJ platform, swore loudly when he saw Sadie. She had thick chains of silver wrapped several times around her body and tied to the platform.
“Rogue One is in here somewhere, Olivia.” His fangs erupted, and his body hummed with tension. “I can smell him.”
He could feel her strong, lithe body against his, tense and ready to spring into action. He admired her restraint. It had to tear her up to see the people she loved in agony, but to her credit, she kept it together.
“I smell someone else too,” she seethed. She stopped abruptly, and the muscles in her body tensed further. She turned her head to the left and shouted, “Where the fuck are you, Vincent? You’re a sick old fuck. You started this whole mess to manipulate me into coming back to England, didn’t you?”
Only the music responded as it continued to blare around them.
“Answer me, damn it!”
“You should know me better than that, Olivia.”
The male voice, edged with sadness, drifted over from the far side of the club. They swung around toward the voice and aimed their guns in the direction of the VIP booths on the other side of the dance floor. The rapidly changing colorful lights were messing with Doug’s vision, and for the first time since he was turned, his night vision was failing him.
He and Olivia moved toward the center of the dance floor.
“Vincent?” Olivia said sharply as she looked around the club. “You fucking coward. Show yourself.”
Seconds later, to the left of the VIP booths, a tall, regal man stepped out from behind a small wall divider. Doug fleetingly remembered that the hallway behind it led to the restrooms.
Vincent had his hands behind his back and moved toward them cautiously.
“Hello, Olivia.” His voice was etched with sorrow. “This is not what you think, my child.” His eyes widened when they landed on Doug. “My, my, my. I never forget a face, especially yours. The only human I couldn’t glamour.” His brow knit in confusion. “And here you are, and now you’re one of us? Fascinating.”
“Vincent?” Olivia’s voice was shakier as soon as she set eyes on her maker. “Why are you doing this?”
Doug tightened his grip on both guns as a glint of silver caught his eye. Partially hidden behind Vincent’s disheveled shirt and tie was a rope of sterling silver. It was wrapped around his neck, and Doug glanced down to see that the chain dragged behind him.
“Olivia,” Doug said evenly. “It’s not him. Vincent’s not The Maker. Look at his neck.”
As he uttered the words, Vincent’s face twisted in pain as he was yanked backward and fell to his knees. A man Doug had never seen before stood behind him, holding the rope of silver in one gloved hand and a gun in the other. Next to him was the little blond waitress, Suzie. She wept quietly as he pointed the gun at her head. Doug immediately sensed that she had been turned.
“Hello, Olivia,” the man growled. “Long time, no see.”
“Oh my God,” she said in a rush. “Brutus.”
***
Olivia had never been more shocked in her three hundred years. Brutus, Augustus’s son and the vicious piece of shit she made sure was sent to hibernation, was standing before her, larger than life. Olivia kept her guns trained on h
im, and the only reason she didn’t fire was because of Suzie.
“Nice to see you haven’t forgotten me.”
“I should’ve put you down when I had the chance, you sick piece of shit.”
“Do you really think that my father, a czar for the Presidium, would allow that? I don’t think so.” He tugged on the chain, causing Vincent to howl in pain and hiss at his captor. “Stop your whining.” He sighed. “Actually, I’ll stop it for you. You’ve served your purpose, old man.”
A split second later, Brutus yanked viciously on the chain tied around Vincent’s neck, and Olivia watched in horror as his head popped off like a macabre party favor. As he exploded into a cloud of ash, white-hot pain shot through Olivia and bloomed in her chest as Vincent died. She arched back and screamed in excruciating agony as Doug swept in and caught her with one arm, cradling her against his broad chest.
“Hurts like a bitch, doesn’t it? I remember when our maker bit the dust. It hurt like hell. My father and I cried like a couple of younglings.” Brutus laughed and pulled Suzie in front of him, still holding the gun to her head. “But you know what hurts worse? Starving in a hibernation chamber for fifty years and going mad with hunger.” His hate-filled eyes glared at them. “The blood thirst? Damn, girl. That shit will make you crazy.”
Olivia scrambled weakly to her feet with Doug’s help and pointed her gun at him again, even though her head felt like it was going to split open like an egg.
“You did this?” Her voice wavered, and her vision blurred as Doug’s voice touched her mind. Let me take him out with a clean shot to the head.
Olivia glanced at Suzie’s tearstained face. No. It’s too dangerous for Suzie.
She cleared her head and sharpened her focus, looking for other vampires in the club, but her senses were wonky from the impact of Vincent’s death. As her dizziness faded and her senses cleared, the distinct foul stench of Rogue One filled her head. Brutus was the rogue? How could that be? Olivia shook her head as if she could shake off the confusion.
Tall, Dark, and Vampire (Dead in the City) Page 23