“How can the many within this world allow the few to perpetuate such horror?”
“I haven’t discerned the answer to that yet.”
“There is so much wrong to be righted.” Aragon shook his head sadly. “The mist makes it difficult, but I may have detected Stefanie’s scent about the middle of the west side. I’ll need to get closer to be sure. The vampire scent is strong. There is more than just Vasquez here.”
“According to the map Sam put together,” Jared said, “the housing for the nuns is located near that section of the west wall. My bet is to search there first. We’ll circle again to be sure, then move to the north point where we are to meet Sam and Annette.”
After circling and verifying their impressions, the Blood Hunters moved out from the compound’s perimeter to the meeting point. Sam had chosen well. With the north’s observation deck being so high above the jungle canopy, it left Corazon slightly vulnerable to ground activity. A white gravel road glowed like a pearlescent path, and they positioned themselves with it in sight.
“This time I could hear more conversation above the painful moans,” Aragon said.
“I, too,” Jared said. “Furtive tones, speaking apprehensively about a Vladarian war?”
Before Aragon could answer, the distant hum of an approaching vehicle rose above the noises within the compound. They slipped farther into the shadows. It would be disastrous to be detected by a Vladarian’s sharp night vision.
A few minutes later, a white Hummer and a dozen trucks appeared. Inside the Hummer they could see Pathos, Cinatas, and the red demon Nyros, plus two others. The rest of the trucks were open and filled with armed men, some mortal and some demonic.
Pathos was here, and Annette was on her way. Aragon exploded beneath the rapid rush of bloodlust and fear shooting fire to his every cell. The memory of what Pathos had done to Annette, how he’d rendered her so helpless, raged inside Aragon. His fangs cut into his lip, and his muscles bulged, tearing apart seams. His barely leashed control cracked. All Aragon could think of was eliminating Pathos now before there was the slimmest chance that Annette could be harmed again.
Jared grabbed his shoulder as Aragon stepped into a fleeting beam of moonlight, but Aragon shrugged it off. No matter what, I’ll eliminate the threat to the woman I love.
No matter what.
Annette heard the harshly uttered words, and this time, rather than comforting her, they sent her heart racing with fear. “Something’s wrong, Sam! We need to run faster.”
Already her side ached and her lungs were raw with the effort to breathe in enough of the damp oxygen to feed her body’s need.
“What do you mean?” Sam gasped, picking up his pace to move ahead of her.
“It’s Aragon.”
“Hell, we can’t afford for anything to go wrong. We’re still ten minutes away from the checkpoint, at the very least. We’ll have to abort the mission. Maybe try again tomorrow.”
“Make that ETA five minutes,” Annette gasped, adrenaline forcing her past her ability. She reached out to Aragon with her mind. Maybe her spirit could touch his and help.
Aragon!…Aragon?
No answer.
All she could feel was a solid wall of roiling emotion. She tried to run faster but was already straining harder than she ever had. Her muscles seemed to be losing their ability to function.
“Dear God, please,” she cried, tears negating what little visibility Sam’s light shed on the ground. Positioned in front of her, he moved quickly down the path people had worn between Corazon and the Mayan ruins of Xunantunich. Then she tripped and fell, hitting a sharp rock that cut painfully into her forearm and forced a sharp cry from her as her breath exploded from her lungs.
Something slammed up against the savage flood in Aragon’s mind and made him pause, stopped him from rushing after the vehicle in which Pathos rode. He had to shake his head hard to clear it enough to understand what it was his mind had heard.
Annette. She was hurt and near. He could feel her desperation.
What’s wrong? he asked harshly, forcing his mind to work above the bloodlust filling his desires.
Need you. Come.
Aragon went to move, and only then did he realize that Jared had him on the ground with his legs pinned. How had that happened? He sucked in air, searching through the savage fog in his mind, but came up empty. He must have been truly out of his mind, a very frightening thought.
“Jared. Let me rise.”
“No. Not until you shift.”
“Annette needs us. She’s called me to her.”
Jared stirred. “If you start running for Pathos again, I’m going to render you unconscious.”
Aragon grunted. “You can try.” He hoped the playful tone of his voice would reassure Jared that he had his senses back.
Jared let him up.
Aragon leapt to his feet and began running back into the jungle, away from Pathos. He heard Jared’s sigh of relief. Apparently his brother had doubts that he would be able to back up his threat. Amusement helped Aragon rein in more of his were-being, but his wolf form was still in full force.
A minute later he found Sam and Annette crashing through the jungle. Annette didn’t pause or hesitate; she launched herself against him and wrapped her arms around his neck. “You need me,” she said.
“Yes, he did,” answered Jared. “I wouldn’t have been able to hold him another five seconds. He would have gone after Pathos and practically eliminated our chances of getting to Stefanie.”
“She’s here? He’s here?” Annette backed from Aragon’s arms, her whole body wrenching with both hope and apprehension. Her mouth went dry as her heart hammered with joy and apprehension. “We have to get to her before Pathos does. We have to hurry!” She started to run, but Sam grabbed her arm and swung her around.
“You go off half-cocked without a plan, you’re only going to get us all dead. We have to think. What area do you think Stefanie is in, and what is Pathos doing here? Something doesn’t sound right.”
“Stefanie’s scent is strongest at the midpoint of the west wall,” Aragon said.
“We’re going to search the nuns’ quarters you’ve indicated are there,” Jared added. “Pathos and an army of demons and mortals were at the north gate, and from what I could hear, they aren’t welcome. All is not well within the Vladarian Order.”
“When did all of that happen?” Aragon asked sharply. “I didn’t hear—”
Jared set a hand on Aragon’s shoulder. “You were too caught up in the craze. I’ve been there. Nothing was able to reach me when the moon was out. Speaking of which, unless we come up with a new plan and act fast, we’ll lose the time of our greatest strength.”
“Why change plans?” Sam asked. “We were going to create a diversion anyway. Pathos’s arrival with armed men only makes it better. Just let me get up a tall tree with this little door buster, and we’ll send Vasquez’s gates and doors to steel heaven. North, south, east, and west, here we come.”
“I know Pathos,” Aragon said. “Last night, Annette and I got the upper hand, with hundreds of Underlings as witness. Once he catches wind of our scent, he’ll be relentless in his pursuit and have every demon after us as well.”
“I knew I needed a blowtorch,” Annette muttered. Just the thought of running into Pathos and Nyros again filled her with dread. That dread turned cold at Aragon’s next sentence.
Aragon looked at Jared. “This isn’t bloodlust speaking now. It’s time. I will stop Pathos tonight.”
Sam got into perfect position. The tree he’d shimmied up was high enough to give him a damn good view of Corazon. Too good. Memories started edging in at the sickening familiar scents of human suffering and despair. The pressing, humid heat set every muscle in his body aching. The burning at the base of his skull started. His hands trembled as he raised his doctored M-16, putting the north gate in his sights.
But the gate wavered, shimmering like a vision on the desert. Sweat poured in
to his eyes, carrying a stinging bite that blurred his vision even more. He set the gun across his lap and mopped his brow with the sleeve of his shirt. That’s when the first pain shot down his spine. His body drew up, and he nearly fell out of the tree. He had to latch onto a branch, cutting his hand on a spur. Blood ran down his arm, a river of red that sent a second shard of pain ripping down his spine.
No! His mind screamed at him. No! This was not going to happen.
He jerked the gun up, gasping for air to no avail. Re-sighting did little good. The gate, the limo, the gate, the limo—they kept merging as the horror of the past crept closer, determined to steal his mind.
He pulled the trigger, and as the little bomb exploded in a flash of light, filling the air with the screams of burning demons, Sam felt a steady calm wash over him. Reloading his next little surprise, he took aim again. Years of fear fell beneath a wave of cold rage that had been welling in his gut and choking him since he’d escaped the death camp below. He was going to raise all hell and then mow the bastards down.
“Why are we sitting here at the gates as if we can’t eliminate Vasquez and any other Vladarian who dares to side with him?”
Pathos drew in another breath of the misty air before shutting the soundproof car door and turning to face Cinatas. He wondered if the rage still burning in his gut had him imagining Aragon’s scent, but he was sure the Blood Hunter had been here. Recently. He smelled him the moment the car door had opened. “Aragon the Blood Hunter is here. And another as well. I can smell them both.”
“Jared and Aragon are here with Vasquez?” Cinatas asked. “Has Vasquez switched allegiance from the damned to fight us?”
Pathos shook his head. “I don’t even think that’s possible, once you’ve crossed. But what if Logos is trying to destroy me by manipulating the damned? It seems too coincidental that after a millennium, not one but two Blood Hunters are suddenly working on the mortal ground. Both against Sno-Med. Vasquez could be easily duped by one of the Blood Hunters.”
“I see.”
“If you’re seeing as clearly as I am, then you’ll realize we’re going to play a little game with Vasquez. Find out as much as we can before we act.”
His cell phone rang, and Pathos curled his lip with amusement. “My friend,” Pathos said.
“You say that? Vasquez thinks not. You come with an army!”
“What do you expect? You left like a thief. Left before hearing my son this morning. It was very rude of you.”
Vasquez grunted. “Perhaps I did not hear you speak of the meeting this morning. Vasquez was angry over the unfairness of the vote.”
“Unfairness? Why don’t you tell me what you are doing with the fallen Blood Hunters? Then maybe we will talk,” Pathos said, hating the concession. He itched to move in and rip Vasquez to shreds.
Suddenly the gate in front of the Hummer exploded. Shrapnel and fire peppered everything with scorched metal, even doing damage to the bulletproof glass.
A long string of curses blasted over the phone line. “This is how you talk, Señor Pathos? Vasquez will show you. I will burn everything before you can touch it.” The line went dead.
Pathos looked out to see several demons in the truck behind writhing as the fire melted them. The damned were so vulnerable. “We’ve both been set up,” he told Cinatas, thoroughly amused. A line of machine-gun-firing soldiers came scrambling from inside the compound and were picked off by his men, who used the trucks for cover. “Let’s move.”
Moments after Sam blew open the west gate, Aragon, with Jared at his side, penetrated the compound. The heat scorched at his wolf’s cloak, and small pieces of debris still rained down, sizzling in the mist. There was more on fire than seemed possible if Sam had only blown open the gates. Screams, moans, and shouts of fear and confusion filled the smoky air, but the loudest sounds were the frantic cries of many terrified voices, begging, “Free us! Free us! Free us!”
Many were trapped in the buildings. Aragon’s insides twisted with the need to answer the desperate voices. By Logos! Can’t you hear them! Help me to help them!
He and Jared rushed to free those trapped by the fires.
Closely timed third and fourth blasts farther away drowned out the people’s cries for a moment and distracted the armed guards from Aragon and Jared’s presence, letting them free prisoners unhindered. Aragon saw that some of the armed men carried torches and were randomly setting the place on fire. Billowing, acrid smoke filled the area, making Aragon’s eyes burn and his lungs heave. He tried to escape it, tried to locate Stefanie’s scent in the air, but either the misting rain masked the scent, or the smoke was too thick. A lot of the smoke came from a very tall cathedral-arched building in the center.
“I cannot scent Stefanie anymore,” he shouted at Jared.
“Nor I. Keep moving. We’ll find her.”
Going to the left, he and Jared tore down more doors and ripped iron bars from the windows, searching through every building for Stefanie. They met desperation at every turn. Men. Women. Children. The pain in their eyes was agonizing.
Aragon saw a man with a gun shooting those trying to escape. Howling with rage, claws slashing, Aragon went after him, ripping the gun from him and raking deep grooves in his face. The man ran off, screaming, blinded by blood. He’d carry the scar of his cowardice forever.
Amid the mist and the smoke and the screams, chaos ruled.
They’d been through six buildings, and still no Stefanie. Then he heard a number of cries coming from women to his right, and he pulled Jared in that direction. A long white building with bars on the windows loomed ahead. Women completely draped in black were beckoning from between the bars. He went to them. But when they saw him, they shrank back, shrieking with terror, holding out the crosses chained about their necks.
Stunned, Aragon froze, wondering if he was causing them more harm by trying to help. Some seemed frantic enough that it was a wonder their hearts remembered how to beat. Annette had never responded to his were-form like that.
“Ignore their fear,” Jared shouted, surging past and grabbing Aragon’s arm. “Help me break open the bars.”
Together they tore open one window and moved to the next, then the next. As the women began emerging, Aragon searched. He knew he would know Stefanie. He’d scented her earlier. She had to be here.
Jared began grabbing the arms of women as they passed, halting them for a moment, saying “Stefanie Batista.” Over and over again he called. The women would shake their heads, pull away, and go running.
Aragon wondered if he had been mistaken before. No. He’d been sure. Jared had been sure. She had to be here. He was turning for the next building when he saw a woman struggling to carry another woman, an invalid, out a window he’d just torn open. Dressed head to toe in black, they were unidentifiable, except that they needed help. He rushed over to lift the invalid from the struggling woman’s arms. The moment he touched her, he could feel that she had but moments left to live.
The woman who’d been carrying the invalid looked up in surprise, but didn’t shrink back from his were-form. For a second, he took in her dark hair, and eyes, and hoped that he’d found Stefanie, but the scent was wrong.
“Marissa,” the invalid woman whispered. “Marissa? Por favor, tell me?”
“Si, abuela. We are freed.” She took the woman back into her arms and sat upon the ground in the middle of the chaos. She must have sensed the invalid would live only a few moments longer, and chose to spend those moments comforting another rather than trying to flee the death around them.
Aragon didn’t want to leave them alone, almost felt compelled to carry them out of danger, but he had to find Stefanie first.
“Where is Stefanie Batista?” Aragon asked. The helping woman’s haunted eyes widened. She shook her head sadly and lifted a shaking hand, pointing it at a tower in the arched building centering the compound—the one in which the entire lower floor was on fire. It explained why he hadn’t been able to catch her
scent after entering the compound; she’d been higher up, and once the heat and smoke started rising…
By Logos! Aragon started running.
Chapter Twenty-three
S AM SWUNG DOWN from the tree, hot to see that he’d left every gate smoking. He shoved the door buster over his left shoulder and went gunning for the compound. Once he’d destroyed the blood supply, he’d make sure Jared and Aragon had found Stefanie, and then he was going to hunt down Vasquez. Entering Corazon from the opposite end Jared and Aragon had, Sam made a beeline for the “infirmary.”
Once he reached it, he blew the metal doors wide. The staff inside was running around in confusion. Sam grabbed one man and put a gun to his head. “Any sick patients in here?”
Sam doubted it; if any of the prisoners got sick, they were left to die. But he still had to check. The man shook his head no.
“You’ve got less than two minutes to clear everyone out, because this baby is going to blow.” He shoved the man away. Then, to set him into action, Sam fired his M-16 at the floor. The man jumped and started yelling as he ran down the hall for the exit.
It was time to get trigger-happy. Entering the first lab, Sam found a refrigerator stocked with bags of blood and started shooting. Blood splattered everywhere, running in rivulets across the floor. And it felt damn good. Demolishing the testing equipment with a spray of fire, he moved to the next room, doing the same. It was going to take a little longer than he thought, but there was nothing like a little blood to cleanse the soul.
After a soundless blast of petrifying cold, the red demons shattered the door to Vasquez’s hidden chamber. Pathos sauntered casually into the room. Cinatas followed, and the red demons flanked them both.
In were-form Pathos stood chest, head, and shoulders above all others. While the door’s collapse revealed a cowering Samir, surprisingly, Vasquez was nowhere to be seen. Two of the other oil-rich Vladarians were, though, along with one Vladarian who had turned himself into a religious guru and had a large following among the mortals. They looked up in surprise.
The Lure of the Wolf Page 30