A box truck heading north on Harlem would beat him to the intersection. He slammed on the brakes as hard as he could, hoping the vehicle was too heavy to flip. It was, and it didn’t. The truck missed them by six inches.
“Damn! I lost the rifle out the window.”
Thor wasn’t sure if he was unhappy about that or not. Not, he decided.
But Nate was definitely pissed. He scrunched up his face like he was going to spit, and Thor just hoped it was at the windshield and not him. Saliva was not his favorite body fluid, especially when it came out of a Brother of the Sun’s ugly mouth.
But Nate controlled his spittle and shouted instead. “Rocket man is long gone. I suggest we get out of here, too.”
“This thing is not exactly inconspicuous. Just what do you suggest?”
“The rendezvous point is near here. Turn left.”
Ten minutes later, after some fancy alley diving, they were inside a huge underground garage. Thor turned off the engine and took a deep breath. His hands were wet on the steering wheel, and sweat plastered his shirt to the vinyl seat. Great. He was in some BOS lair. Even if he did see Cade again, he’d have to admit his failure. He didn’t relish that. He’d never before failed to complete a job, no matter how trivial, and he’d never let Cade down.
And now he knew fear, and it knew him. It was something he’d carry from now on, for he knew that once it took hold, it would thrust its roots into the deepest recesses of his mind. For the first time ever, he doubted his abilities.
“HEY, KINCADE!”
Cade stared out the window at the burning house. Flames spouted toward the sky, still feeding a rain of cinders and debris that floated to the ground. This was one fire that didn’t excite him or stoke his hunger for violence, for it was his own property that burned, and a valuable safe house it’d been, too. Very few of his houses were located on the same block as another of his properties.
It was Hell all over again, houses torched in a down and dirty attempt to kill vamps without having to face them, eye to eye. It was a coward’s way, and yet it wasn’t Hell. A vampire had fired the RPG this time, and the Brothers of the Sun stood beside him, not against him.
“You hear me? Come on! We have to get out of here, now. I wouldn’t put it past the cops to evacuate every house on this block. We can’t be trapped in here.”
He looked at Cat. She was right. If they stayed, there’d be no hiding from them. He nodded to her, picked up their equipment bag, and made for the rear of the house. A motorcycle waited in the attached garage, and while he stowed their gear in the hard saddlebags, Cat mounted the bike and activated the garage door opener.
Normally he’d take control, but he’d never had much experience with bikes, and Cat looked like she knew her way around anything she could wrap with her long legs. She sat with her hands on the grips, waiting, while he stepped to the edge of the alley. A quick glance right and left showed that cars, probably unmarked squads, blocked both mouths of the alley. He thought about the night he and Red had escaped from her flat. The cops had missed him then, their net too hastily thrown together and too full of holes. Tonight was different. There’d been plenty of advance notice given, and it was obvious that Thor’s pursuit of the sedan hadn’t drawn off all the cops sitting in the neighborhood of the target house.
“Come on,” she prodded, shaking out her arms as if she were cold or trying to relax tight muscles.
“The alley’s blocked on both sides.”
“Aren’t you glad I brought the bike? Get on,” she said, thumbing the starter. She already had the bike rolling by the time he leapt onto the seat. He landed on the leather and gripped her waist without throwing her off balance. The bike had indeed been her idea. It was faster and more maneuverable than a car, she’d argued, and no one on their tail would suspect a female rider. She also claimed to have a foolproof escape route. He’d agreed. It wasn’t so much that he trusted her, but he was more than willing to use her. As long as she was eager and able to work on his behalf, enemy or no enemy, he’d take advantage of her fervor and skills.
She put the bike in first gear and glided it across the alley into the backyard opposite theirs. He could feel the heat from Cat’s body through her jacket, and the scent of her hair and skin flooded his nostrils. But she was cagey and calculating, just like his Deborah had been, and she was all business now. She nudged the bike through the yard to the street beyond, and Cade knew it was no coincidence they encountered no fence or gate. She’d scouted all the yards on the block earlier in the day and knew just which ones she could cut through.
They headed south, cutting through more yards until they were four blocks from the sacrificial safe house. Sirens yelped and brayed in the distance like a pack of mechanical hounds, and he wondered if Thor was safe. There was no communication between him and Cat, only the melding of their bodies when she took to the streets at last and kicked the bike into a higher gear. He could feel Cat’s heart pumping in front of him and the throbbing of the engine beneath him, and the combination of their steady rhythms somehow gave him confidence that this ill-starred night might not end in disaster after all. She kept to the rules of the road, careful to draw no attention other than the occasional acknowledgement from a fellow biker. From the wave of one biker, it was apparent they were seen as nothing more than lovers enjoying one of the last mild nights of the fall season.
They zigzagged through the neighborhoods on the west side of the city, and when Cat leaned, he leaned, their bodies as one. The sounds of the sirens faded, and the cold sweat on his back dried with their diminishing wail. On a quiet residential street Cat pulled over to the curb, shifted the bike into neutral, and put her feet on the ground to steady it.
“You can relax your hands for a minute. I’m going to call Nate.”
There was nothing in her voice other than her usual disdain, and Cade wondered how she truly felt to have a hated enemy pressed up against her backside. He didn’t like to have anyone behind him, much less an adversary. If someone was behind you, you couldn’t look into their eyes. Was she any different? He couldn’t tell. Her blood pounded in his ears, but it could be nothing more than the thrill of the ride.
She pulled her walkie-talkie from her belt and keyed it. “Nate, talk to me.”
“We’re safe. The sedan got away. You?”
She hesitated before answering, and he wondered if she was simply glad her partner in crime was alive and well, or whether she was peeved the prey had slipped out of their grasp. “We’re clean and clear.”
“Meet us at the rendezvous spot. We’re there now.”
“Copy that.”
She clipped the walkie to her belt and revved the engine once, the first sign she’d given that she was irritated. She turned her head, not enough for her to meet his eyes, but enough to give him a view of her neck and very determined jaw. “Hear that? Your plan failed.”
My plan. As though she, Nate and Thor hadn’t had as much input as he had into tonight’s doings. But it was to be expected. He was doyen, and it was his show. He put his hands back on her waist and moved them up and down over the smooth leather of her jacket. “It didn’t fail. They took the bait. They see us as a threat, and considering the manpower they threw at us, quite a sizeable threat.” He leaned forward, stroking her hair with his mouth, and whispered in her ear. “Besides, this is only the first round, as my tyro likes to say. One round does not a fight make.”
She kicked through the gears and opened the throttle, and the acceleration forced his body backward.
He smiled. It had been a hell of a night, but he’d managed to rattle Sister Cat.
Chapter Thirty-one
Chicago, Illinois
Twenty-three Years Earlier
WULF DUVALL LEFT with a definitive slam of the front door, leaving Cade to sit alone in his Orchard Street mansion, an eye of calm in a storm of chaos. Mi
dnight Storm, the mortals called it, as if it were nothing more than a blip on the radar, a brief outburst that would pass with the winds of time. But to his brethren, it was Hell, an inescapable prison of torment, anguish and despair, as Wulf had just reminded him, with the news that Boston Ackerman had died the true death. He’d loved Boston almost as much as he loved Wulf, for none of Chicago’s other masters could touch either in steadfastness or loyalty.
He hadn’t been their maker, but he’d known Wulf since the days of Fort Dearborn and Boston since the official birth of the city in 1837. Boston had come west from the city bearing his name to make his fortune, but he’d found immortality instead. He’d stayed in Chicago for the rest of his years, but he’d worn the name of his birthplace proudly. Like Wulf, Boston had survived the Great Chicago Fire, and also like Wulf had done so while helping those less able than themselves. Now, over a hundred years later, Boston and Wulf had again served their kind unselfishly, teaching sucklings how to survive and creating an underground north to Wisconsin for those who wished to flee.
But now Boston was dead, Wulf questioned Cade’s leadership, and sucklings were still dying nightly at the hands of the Brothers of the Sun. It was hell indeed, and Cade’s eye of calm was shrinking with each night that passed.
He stood and exited the door Wulf had used to express his unspoken good-bye only moments before. The clarity of the night sky was visible through the veil of city lights, and the warm summer breeze wafted the long strands of hair at either side of his face. He parted his lips and drew a deep breath, and the unmistakable taste of fire smoke coated his tongue. Miles away on the west side, houses and sucklings alike were being charred with equal disdain. The smell of fire used to be his favorite scent after that of blood, but tonight he spat over the iron railing that bordered the steps to his door. It didn’t help. His mouth still tasted of death and destruction.
Do something, Wulf had pleaded. Tell me what to do, Cade. Tell me, and I’ll do it, gladly.
You think it’s easy to lead, Wulf? he’d countered, but that had been the wrong thing to say. Wulf had been a soldier in life. He liked the simplicity of following orders. He had no notion of what it took to be a leader.
But tonight even Cade was at a loss. He’d always ruled by fear and intimidation, letting his reputation fight his battles for him. When that hadn’t been enough, he’d either used his compelling eyes on those in power, or he’d cut off the head of the snake. But no single head reared up now to expose itself to Gravedigger. The Brothers of the Sun had started this war, but the whole human race had become their enemy. When one head was cut off, three more grew back in its place.
And yet Wulf was right. He had to do something. He wouldn’t allow his people to go the way of the Illinois Indians, eradicated and forgotten.
Cade pulled out his phone and tapped in the number of Thorvald Sweet. Thor was a puppy, without Wulf’s age and experience, but full of passion and piss, and he loved nothing more than to sink his fangs into something bigger than he was, be it a victim, enemy, or just a problem to be solved.
“Thor here.”
“This is Cade. Boston’s dead. You’re taking his place. Be at my house within the hour.”
There was a pause. “Sure,” Thor answered at last.
Cade smiled, happy that the young master had been able to digest the news with the proper attitude. No condolences, no whining, and no fear.
If Wulf Duvall would no longer walk with him, perhaps Thor Sweet would.
Chapter Thirty-two
THE MEETING WAS like a war council with too many chiefs. Once inside the apartment that served as the rendezvous point, old allegiances took over. Nate and Cat were parked on a sofa in the living room like an old married couple—close, but not too close—and he and Thor sat across from them in side by side easy chairs like unwelcome visitors. It wasn’t so much the arrangement that bothered Cade. Cat was far enough away not to be a constant distraction, and he could see both Nate’s eyes and hers. What troubled him was the dynamic the four of them seemed to create, an atmosphere that hung heavy with unsaid accusations. Nate’s chase car was a dog. Thor’s driving was worse. The plan itself was the Titantic looking for an iceberg.
He tried to put a positive spin on the evening. “We got their attention. They know they missed me. They’ll come after me again.”
Nate leaned back and brought a can of beer to his lips, leaving Cat to fill the silence. Cat, the only one of them who hadn’t fucked up.
“And what’s to prevent the same thing from happening again?” she asked.
Cade glanced at Thor, but his tyro only stared back, clearly leaving the meat of the discussion to him. “We up the ante. They want me, there’s no doubt about that. And they’re scared. The threat of exposure is very real to them.”
Nate put his beer down on the sofa table and wiped a finger across his mouth. “Okay, they’re scared. But you didn’t answer Cat’s question. What’s to stop a repeat of tonight?”
He scanned the faces of all in the room, and every gaze held his, but each seemed to bear a heavy weight. Maybe it was all those unsaid words. Maybe it was the uneasy memories of the past that each of them was trying to move beyond. Perhaps it was simply fear. Certainly the room was awash in it, for the plan wasn’t the only thing that stunk. But he had an answer to Nate’s question, for he’d asked the same question of himself ever since the Asian had destroyed the house with the twitch of one finger.
“We do things differently. We don’t stage the meet in a residential area, for one thing.”
“And we don’t give them the address ahead of time,” added Thor. “Hell, we gave them all evening to make their plans and throw a net over that whole neighborhood. We were lucky to get out in one piece.”
Thor was not only right, but he’d delivered the comment nicely. It had been a criticism, but veiled as simply an addendum to what Cade had said about doing things differently. A checkmark in Thor’s favor. Perhaps there were only two people in the room Cade had to worry about, not three.
“Agreed,” said Cade. “Nate?” He looked to Nate, but all he could feel was the heaviness of Cat’s gaze.
Nate raised the can and took a long, slow swallow. “Agreed,” he replied as he put the can down. “But we need more than that. We need to force their compliance. We need something more than the threat of exposure.”
Leave it to a Brother of the Sun to know how to up the ante in a battle. As long as Nate and Cat could be controlled, he’d go with it. He looked to Thor for a suggestion.
His tyro raised his brows. “Like a hostage?”
That was one idea he didn’t like. “No.”
“Why not?” asked Nate.
“Too many variables. Too many things can go wrong. We’d have to choose someone. Execute an abduction. Keep them restrained or under guard. Keep them from escaping, from overhearing our plans. Keep them alive . . .”
Cat smiled. “You have gone soft.”
He stared at her with no softness behind the look. “I intend to destroy my enemies without mercy, but if I survive, I still have to rule in this city. If I kill hostages, I can’t do that.”
Nate sat up straight, as if a bright idea had bolstered him. “Hey, I got it. Use that girl of yours. The one your squid friend drained dry. She’s already dead.”
“No! I won’t have it on public record that I killed Red.”
Thor got up and smirked at Nate and Cat. “We’ll be right back.” He then cocked his head toward the hallway that led to the apartment’s two bedrooms and whispered, “Let’s talk, Cade, just you and me.”
THOR LED THE way down the hallway to the master bedroom and shut the door behind them. Red had come between them in life. He didn’t want her to be a public bone of contention in death. Whatever disagreements they had regarding her were better discussed out of earshot of Boris and Natasha.<
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“Look, Cade, the meathead has a good idea. Red is already dead. We should take advantage of that.”
Cade’s dark eyes vibrated. “I said no. You heard me in there. I won’t be held responsible for her death. The undead could care less, but Chicago’s mortal population won’t accept me in any legitimate position of power if I admit to killing her.”
He leaned in close to his master. “Listen. As it stands right now, her death is meaningless. Shouldn’t her existence stand for something? Or was she nothing to you but a good feed and fuck?”
Cade’s brows butted, forming two vertical creases between them, and his mouth tightened at the corners. Thor took two quick steps back, for he knew from experience what was coming, but there was no time to stop it. The power of Cade’s mind ravaged his, leaving him feeling naked and cold, and he knew his secret feelings for Red were secret no more.
His master released him, and Cade’s mouth relaxed, but his brows drew closer still. “You cared for her.”
“I did.” He wanted to hold back the rest of what he wanted to say, but the words would not be denied. Cade had broken the dam with his damn mind-fuck, and the words flowed unabated. “You had every woman you ever wanted. They fell into your lap with one look at that long black hair and those cheekbones chiseled by the hand of God. And me? My face was molded in the ring by a thousand hooks and jabs.”
For once Cade had nothing to say, so he went on. “You had every female you wanted, yet none of them meant anything to you. Well, she meant something to me. And you took her and killed her.”
Cade turned his head and stared at the wall, still saying nothing.
“If she can make a difference in our future, why not? If we survive this and you’re still worried about what the mortals will think, blame her death on me. Tell them I killed her because she knew too much.”
Cade turned back to him, his face still tight with the tension of all that had passed between them. Or maybe the tension was nothing more than Cade’s own secrets, kept locked all these years behind a door no other vampire had ever been strong enough to breach. For a fleeting moment Thor almost felt sorry for Cade. The release of his own feelings had felt good, and he knew that Cade had always, and always would, deny himself that release.
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