The Ortega Project

by Linnea Alexis

  “A son?” The archer sounded surprised and turned toward Roman. “Is that true? You have a son?”

  “Damn you, Mavis!” Roman yelled. Why the hell did she say that? He growled from deep within his chest. How did she know about Christian when he’d made a point of never mentioning his son’s name in her presence?

  Both archers turned and aimed their weapons in Roman’s direction.

  “You, Mavis? Why?” So much for this being a safe house. What had Gabriel gotten him into? Why had he taken him to this particular house?

  An evil smile spread across her face. “Erik was my brother.”

  “Erik was my friend,” Roman said.

  She lifted her chin and bared her fangs. “What’s that saying? ‘With friends like you, who needs enemies’?”

  “I had no choice. It was self-defense.”

  “It was murder,” she argued.

  The archers aimed their weapons, cocked their bows, and took aim.

  Using supernatural speed, Roman darted between the shooters, hoping his sudden movement would startle and confuse them.

  The archers followed him with their crossbows and squeezed the triggers. But he moved too fast for them to stop their bolts’ release. Mavis’s bolt streaked out the open door past the archer. Trey’s speared through her chest, launched her against the wall, and impaled her.

  Mavis dropped her weapon and grabbed the bolt with both hands. She looked up at her slayer, her mouth open to speak. Only a weak gasp came out. Her body slumped and her head drooped. Blood ran from the wound and dripped onto the floor.

  Roman raised the butcher knife. He let out a growl, bared his teeth, and charged the archer.

  Before Roman thrust the blade into Trey’s heart, a canister was thrown into the kitchen. Smoke filled the room, stinging his eyes. He squeezed his eyes shut and coughed. Keeping a tight grip on the knife, he caught sight of the open door and stumbled outside into the fresh air. Inhaling deeply, he filled his lungs with clean air. He collapsed against the side of the house, groggy from inhaling smoke. Once his equilibrium returned, he pushed himself to stand, and scanned the area. The vampires, including Trey, were gone.

  Crashing sounds drifted from inside the house. Gabriel needed help.

  Roman held the knife in one hand. With the other, he pulled his shirt in front of his nose and mouth for a make-shift air filter and headed inside to help Gabriel. Smoke in the kitchen had dissipated as he staggered across the room and glanced at Mavis’s body, still impaled on the wall.

  He lumbered into the living room. Paulo had Gabriel pinned against the wall—their weapons on the floor, their faces bleeding. Gabriel grunted and pushed Paulo away. Paulo scooped up one of the shotguns and pointed it at Gabriel’s chest. The blast wouldn’t kill him, but it would stun him long enough to give Paulo the opportunity to plunge a wooden stake into his heart.

  Not going to happen. Roman snarled and bared his fangs. He caught Paulo unaware and landed a roundhouse kick to the side of his head. The gun flew out of Paulo’s hands and across the living room, landing on the kitchen floor. Paulo chased after the weapon.

  “They set us up, Rome.” Gabriel panted, trying to catch his breath.

  “I figured as much.”

  “Where’s his bitch?”

  “Stuck in the kitchen. She’s become a regular wallflower.”

  “Where’s Doc?” Gabriel asked.

  “In town, thank God. No mortal could’ve survive an all-out vampire battle.”

  From the kitchen, Paulo screamed. “No! Mavis!”

  Roman picked up both shotguns and tossed one to Gabriel, who made his usual one-handed catch. “He must have seen her.”

  With guns leading the way, Roman and Gabriel barreled into the kitchen. Paulo had pulled Mavis from the wall and sat on the floor cradling her pale body in his arms. “You sons-of-bitches,” he sobbed.

  “Trey did this. Your battle’s with him, not us,” Roman said.

  Inconsolable, Paulo held his wife to his chest and rocked back and forth as he brushed kisses over her face.

  Roman pressed Paulo for information on the archer. “Who’s Trey?”

  “I’ll tell you if you promise to slay me so I can join my mate,” he said, brushing her hair from her forehead. He pressed his wife’s face to his heart.

  Roman shook his head. “What if you don’t tell me the truth?”

  “Maybe you’ll get a chance to ask him yourself,” Paulo whispered nodding toward the rear of the house. “They’re out back. Trey’s with them.”

  “Call them in here,” Roman snapped, staring at the grieving vampire seated on the floor. “Once he’s inside, I’ll kill him and put an end to your miserable life.” He turned toward Gabriel. “Get the flamethrowers.”

  47

  Grace

  Grace’s cell phone slipped from her trembling hand. Unable to move, her body seemed heavy as stone. Anchored in the center of the living room, she stared at the phone at her feet. Her worst nightmare had begun.

  “They’re coming to get my baby,” she said, in a hoarse whisper.

  Deanna stopped unloading the dishwasher. “Who’s coming?”

  “Slayers.” Her legs gave out. She started to fall, but Deanna hurried to her side and caught her before she hit the floor.

  “What’s happening, Grace?” Deanna asked, her eyes wide with terror. “Who called you?”

  She wiped her sweaty palms on her yoga pants. “Brent. He called to tell me…the priests….”

  “Brent? How would he know something like that?” Deanna asked.

  “He’s one of them now—a hunter. They were discussing an ambush and my name was mentioned.” She felt faint. Her head was spinning. What was she going to do?

  Deanna’s hand flew to her mouth. “No!”

  “Brent slipped out of the meeting to warn me.” Her throat became dry and she swallowed hard, trying to free the words stuck in her throat. “Priests are coming to get Christian. They want to kill my baby.” Her voice became a high-pitched whimper. “My sweet baby.”

  Deanna gripped Grace’s hands and stared into her eyes. “When Grace? When?”

  “As soon as they round up everyone and load the weapons.” Her last words came out as a scream. “Weapons to use on my baby boy.”

  “What else did Brent say? Think. What else?”

  “He said he’s trying to stall them. To give me more time.”

  “Did he say how much time you’ve got?”

  “An hour. An hour-and-a-half tops.”

  “Deanna glanced at the wall clock. “Okay, it’s ten o’clock now. We’ve got until eleven.”

  Roman. “I need to call Roman,” Grace said.

  “While we wait for him, I’ll start throwing things together you’ll need. I’ll try not to wake Christian.” Deanna raced into the bedroom.

  “Christian,” Grace whispered. Her eyes filled with tears. She snatched her cell phone from where she’d dropped it and hit speed dial.

  “Hi babe, what’s up?” Roman asked, sounding rushed and out of breath, unaware of the tragedy unfolding regarding his son.

  “The priests found us. They’re coming to get Christian. And they’ve got weapons. Weapons, Roman. He’s only a baby.” Her voice faltered. “My baby.”

  “Be right over,” he said firmly, taking charge of the situation. “Don’t open the door for anyone. Do you understand? No one gets inside the apartment but me.”

  Her teeth chattered. “Yes.” The call ended and so did her strength. Her knees buckled and she dropped to the floor.

  Deanna poked her head out of the bedroom. “Grab Christian’s diaper bag by the door and start filling it with his stuff from the pantry.”

  Unable to move, Grace remained on the floor, struggling to breathe. “They’re going to take him away from me.”

  “No, they’re not!” Deanna ran to her. “I don’t want to be a bitch or anything, but you’d better get your ass up off the floor and start filling the cooler with bottles of
your milk.” She jerked Grace up by both hands and left her standing in the middle of the room, staring at the front door. Deanna threw the blue, soft-sided cooler at her, and pointed at the kitchen. “Fill this up. Now!”

  Deanna raced back into the bedroom. Sounds of drawers opening and closing reverberated throughout the apartment.

  Grace’s heart tried to jackhammer its way out of her rib cage. One sluggish step at a time, she forced her feet to move toward the kitchen.

  “I don’t hear you pack-ing!” Deanna’s sing-song voice rang from the bedroom.

  Grace took several deep breaths. “I can do this. I can do this.” No, she had to do this. For Christian. Filled with new resolve to protect her baby, she clutched the cooler to her chest and darted into the kitchen. She opened the refrigerator, and scooped bottles of breast milk into the cooler.

  She brought Christian’s diaper bag into the kitchen and set it on the counter. From the pantry, she grabbed her breast pump, empty baby bottles and nipples and set them in the diaper bag. To make sure Christian had milk while she packed, she warmed two bottles of breast milk and set them on the counter.

  Someone knocked on the front door. Grace’s heart stopped. She jumped back and covered her mouth with her hand to stifle a scream. “They’re here.” Her words came out as a guttural whisper. Only ten minutes had passed since Brent’s call. How’d the priests get here this fast?

  A familiar voice sounded from the other side of the door. “It’s me, Roman. Open up.”

  “Thank God, you’re here.” Grace clutched her chest and she ran to open the door.

  Roman barged inside, closed and locked the door behind him. He pulled her close and held her tightly in his strong arms.

  She grabbed his shirt with both hands. “Please don’t let them take our baby.” Bile rose in her throat at the thought of sweet, precious Christian being in danger.

  “I won’t let anything happen to our son. Or you,” Roman said in a calm voice.

  “They’re going to kill him,” she whispered, her fear escalating. “They have weapons.”

  “The weapons are for me,” he said, rocking her gently. “Not Christian. I’ll get you to safety temporarily. From there I’ll find us a place long-term.”

  She backed out of his embrace. “I know a safe place. My parents’ cabin in Michigan. No one will think to look for us there.”

  “Perfect.” He rested his hands on her shoulders and stared into her eyes.

  “Do you have any clue how far that is?”

  “I’ve a pretty good idea.”

  A loud knock sounded on the door. Her heart flew to her throat. “That’s them. They’re here.”

  Roman placed his index finger on her lips and motioned for her to stay as he peered through the peep hole. “It’s Gabriel.” He unlocked and opened the door far enough for him to slip inside.

  “You ready to go?” Gabriel closed and locked the door.

  Deanna poked her head from the bedroom. “I’m packing them up now, but could sure use your help.”

  “Pack only what they need. Nothing more.” Gabriel joined Deanna.

  Christian howled.

  Now that her baby was wide awake, no one held back making noise. Drawers opened and were slammed closed.

  Grace scurried into the bedroom to tend to their crying son. She scooped him up, along with his yellow blanket, a fresh pair of pajamas, and the small terrycloth teddy bear he always slept with, and retreated into the much quieter living room.

  “What can I get for you, babe?” Roman asked.

  “Can you bring me the baby bottles on the kitchen counter?” She preferred breastfeeding, but right now, her jittery nerves would prevent her from producing milk. Holding Christian to her chest, she jerked her head in the direction of the bottles.

  Roman hurried to the kitchen and returned with both bottles. “Here you go.” He handed her a bottle and set the other on the coffee table.

  Deanna whizzed past. “We’re almost done packing up what Christian’s going to need.” She ran into the kitchen and dug around in the pantry. “Bingo!” Carrying a box of trash bags, she headed back into the bedroom.

  “Roman, we can use some more help in here,” Gabriel shouted.

  “Be right there.”

  Grace closed her eyes. This couldn’t be happening. Christian didn’t deserve any of this turmoil.

  “Look at me.” Tenderness sounded in Roman’s voice as he knelt in front of her and touched her face.

  She met his gaze.

  “I know this is tough for you to hear, but every minute we’re still in this apartment, brings them another minute closer. These guys don’t screw around. They mean business. They want our son. They want me. And they’ll kill anyone who stands in their way. Do you understand what I’m telling you?”

  She nodded, trying to keep from crying, but worrying about her young son proved too powerful. She burst into tears.

  “I’m sorry, babe. I truly am.” He kissed her cheek.

  “Roman?” Gabriel bellowed.

  “Coming,” Roman yelled back. He lifted her chin and held her gaze. “While you get him ready to leave, we’ll start loading the car. And you might want to put on something warmer than a tank top. It’s cold outside.” He kissed her quickly, and disappeared into the bedroom.

  “And be sure to bring plenty of water,” Gabriel shouted.

  “Got it.” Deanna ran to the pantry, retrieved a case of bottled water, and dropped it near the front door. She returned to the kitchen, brought out the cooler and diaper bag from the counter, and set them next to the water.

  Keys jingled. “Everybody ready?” Gabriel shouted.

  Grace’s heart pounded. This was it. She pushed herself from the sofa.

  “You all set?” Roman asked.

  “I need to change him first.”

  Roman brought her the diaper bag near the door. “I’ll be right back. I need to give Gabe and Deanna a hand and start loading the car.”

  “Hurry.” While Grace changed Christian’s diaper, heavy footsteps pounded on the floor behind her, followed by the front door opening and closing.

  Outside, a vehicle roared to life.

  Incoherent mumbling and sounds of plastic trash bags rustling rang from the bedroom. More footfalls moved across the floor of the apartment and out the front door.

  Grace dressed her son in fresh pajamas. Grabbing a cable knit sweater from the closet, she pulled it over her tank top. She was ready. She faced the door, where Roman waited.

  “Let’s go,” he said, his jaw set, his eyes dark.

  “My jacket.”

  Roman grabbed her navy ski jacket from the coat rack. He opened the front door and reached for Christian. “Let me carry him.”

  This was her baby. Her son. “No,” she said, shaking her head adamantly. “I’ll carry him.” She handed Roman both baby bottles and the small teddy bear instead. Cradling her son next to her racing heart, she stepped into the night.

  Roman cupped her elbow, guiding her down the steps and into the dark parking lot.

  Waiting to say goodbye, Deanna stood next to the black Suburban, hugging herself, staring at the pavement.

  Grace stopped in front of her friend. “Goodbye, Deanna. Thank you for everything,” Handing Christian to Roman, she embraced her friend, and they wept on each other’s shoulders.

  “We have to get going,” Roman gently reminded her. He held the door open, waiting for her to enter. Inside the vehicle, he’d already belted Christian in his car seat.

  “I’m really going to miss you and Christian.” Deanna’s voice faltered and tears ran down her face.

  “Me, too.” Grace sobbed and climbed into the back seat, keeping her head lowered, unable to look at her friend.

  Roman closed her door and took his place in the shotgun seat. Gabriel shifted the SUV into gear, drove out of the parking lot, and merged into busy Friday night traffic.

  48

  Grace

  Grace’s head was sp
inning. Everything was unfolding too fast. One minute she was watching television. The next, a telephone call had turned her world upside down. Nothing would be the same again. Now she and the innocent baby sleeping next to her in his car seat, were fugitives.

  “What’s going to happen to Deanna when the priests get to her apartment?” she asked, fearing her friend might be in jeopardy. After everything she’d done to help her. It wasn’t fair leaving Deanna in such grave danger.

  “She won’t be there,” Roman said, turning to face her. “It’s all arranged. Doc’s at her place right now. As soon as she locks up, they’re gone. She’ll be in good hands. He knows what to do.” He refocused his attention on the road ahead.

  Grace fished a tissue from her purse and dabbed at the stubborn tears that refused to stop spilling. She wiped her nose.

  Roman turned around and reached for her, and when she placed her hand in his, he offered a reassuring squeeze. Even amid such chaos, his smoldering gaze caused her heart to flutter. “It’s going to be all right.”

  Somehow when he uttered his assurance, she believed him. He offered her a comforting smile, calming her. After giving her hand one more squeeze, he released it and faced forward.

  In the front seat, he and Gabriel were engaged in an animated, but hushed conversation, and she couldn’t help wondering what they were discussing. A chill swept over her and she reached for the plaid blanket next to the car seat. She snuggled under the warm fleece and stared at the familiar shopping mall to her left.

  Christian stirred.

  She peeked between the front seats to check the clock on the dash and realized they still had time to spare before the slayers would arrive at the apartment. They were packed and on the road in under an hour. And with Doc’s help, Deanna would also be long gone by the time the priest-slayers arrived. Realizing Deanna was safe, she drew in and blew out several deep breaths.

  “Fuck!” Gabriel swerved to avoid being hit by an oncoming Hummer. “It’s them. They’ve seen us. Hold on.”