Lucas

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Lucas Page 19

by D. B. Reynolds


  If she’d been willing to throw away her son that day, to throw away Lucas, they would have taken her back. He understood that now, too. Brighid had been their only child, and old Donal Donlon had been desperate to secure an heir for his estate, someone in a direct line to himself. His wife, Brighid’s mother, had been too old to bear another child, and the church wouldn’t let him set her aside. So he’d been willing to take Brighid back, to marry her off to someone acceptable to his needs, if not to Brighid’s, in hopes of securing a legitimate heir.

  But Lucas’s mother had loved him, despite the circumstances of his conception. He hadn’t understood what rape meant when he was six, but he did later. And he’d marveled that his mother had loved him despite it, loved him so fiercely that he’d never doubted it, not for one moment.

  But love didn’t put food on the table, didn’t pay the rent on their pitiful room. So she sold the only thing she had left. Herself. It shamed him still that she’d been forced to such dire straits because of him. It was why he rarely thought about those times. Why he wasn’t going to think about them anymore this evening either.

  He sat up and drew a deep breath into his lungs. And he thought of Kathryn. He snagged his cell phone from the side table and punched in her number. It went to voice mail, so he disconnected and dialed the motel instead.

  “Motel,” a man’s voice said, apparently feeling no obligation to announce which motel, since there was only the one in town.

  “Hunter, room eighteen,” Lucas requested.

  “Nope. She checked out this morning.”

  Lucas froze. “She what?” he asked in a voice so cold the poor night manager stuttered his reply.

  “Sh—she checked out, sir. First thing this morning.”

  Lucas disconnected and threw the phone down before he crushed it. She’d run. He’d known there was something off about her emotions when she’d left this morning, and now he understood. It wasn’t that she felt nothing for him, because he knew she did. She’d wanted him just as much as he’d wanted her last night, and even this morning she’d clearly wanted to stay. So why leave town so abruptly?

  He snapped his fingers as it hit him. Kathryn was a control freak. Why the hell else had she become an FBI agent, one of those uptight clones of rigidity in their identical suits and ties? It had been written all over her that first night she’d met him, in her buttoned up blouse and neat-as-a-pin pants suit. Always in control. But there was no such thing when it came to feelings, especially not when the sparks were flying like they had between them last night. Kathryn hadn’t fled because she didn’t want him, but because she did. And it terrified her. Finally something she couldn’t control, so she’d fled the scene rather than face him. He grabbed the cell phone again, intending to call her on her obvious cowardice, but changed his mind. He didn’t need to go begging after a woman’s attention. They usually came begging to him. This one hadn’t, and it pissed him off. But there were other ways to corner his personal FBI agent, and he intended—

  His phone rang. “Yeah, Nick,” he answered.

  “Sire, we have a target to retaliate against Klemens.”

  Lucas growled deep in his chest. “Fuckin’ A. Where is it?”

  “Rockford. A hundred miles from Chicago, give or take.”

  “We’ll have to fly. Have the jet prepped, and give Minneapolis a call. Klemens will know the minute I cross the border, so I want a helicopter waiting for us on the ground in Chicago. We’ll chopper from there to Rockford. And tell Thad he’s invited to the party. He can bring any of his survivors who can fight. No civilians. Warriors only. This isn’t going to be pretty.”

  “Yes, my lord, when—”

  “Have the SUVs out front in ten minutes. Payback’s a bitch, my friend.”

  Chapter Eleven

  Thad was waiting for them when they landed at Chicago’s ExecutiveAirport, located in a suburb just north of the city. Chicago was Klemens’s home city in every sense of the word. He’d been born there as a human and now ruled from there as a vampire. He’d know by now that Lucas had crossed into his territory, though he wouldn’t know precisely where just yet. And by the time he figured it out, Lucas would be on the move. Lucas didn’t envy the vampires closest to Klemens tonight. They’d be bearing the brunt of the vampire lord’s anger, and rumor had it that Klemens didn’t spare anyone when he was displeased.

  “I brought only two from the enclave, my lord,” Thad was saying. “More wanted to come, but you said fighters only, so—”

  “Absolutely. This is going to be bloody, Thad. I know you can handle it, but what about the others?”

  “Both skilled fighters, my lord, and well-motivated.”

  “I trust your judgment. Zelma,” he said, turning to greet the head of his Minneapolis nest as she joined them. “Everything set?”

  Zelma was dressed in the same black combat clothing as the men. At no more than five and half feet tall, she was dwarfed by Lucas and the other warriors, but she was all muscle and skill. Female or not, Lucas had seen her fight and had no qualms about including her in the night’s festivities.

  “The transport helicopter is waiting, my lord,” she replied. “With Thad’s three and your ten, we’ll be twenty strong once we get there.”

  They started across the tarmac at a fast walk, heading for the waiting helicopter. “You have recon on the site?” Lucas asked.

  “I sent two scouts ahead as soon as Nick called. They drove, taking two separate SUVs, just in case we needed ground transportation once we got there.”

  “Good thinking. What do you know about the place?”

  “It’s an older house, two-story brick, on nine acres, which is a point in our favor. It’s hell doing battle in a fucking suburb. This place has lots of trees, lots of cover. There’s only one way in if you approach by car. It crosses over a small creek with a bridge. One ancient outbuilding, which my guys don’t think is being used at all. Last report I had, one of them was trying to get closer to be certain, and maybe get a head count from inside the house.”

  “I don’t want Klemens’s people warned, Zelma. If he can’t do it quietly, tell him to back off.”

  “I told him the same, my lord. They both know the ground rules.” Her phone rang, and she checked the screen. “The scouts,” she told Lucas, then answered the call. “Talk to me.”

  While Zelma got the scouting report, Lucas and the others were climbing aboard the helicopter, getting situated among the vampires already inside. Lucas and Nick settled into two of the most forward seats. The others shuffled deeper into the passenger bay. It said something, Lucas thought to himself, that he felt it necessary to own three of these heavy transport helicopters. His border squabbles with Klemens had been going on for as long as he could remember, almost from the first day Klemens had seized the MidwesternTerritory for himself. Klemens had never been satisfied with the limits of his holdings, even though the boundaries had been drawn and well-established long before he came to power. Lucas had been ruling the PlainsTerritory for nearly a hundred years before Klemens showed up next door. And the bastard had been a thorn in his side ever since.

  He looked over as Zelma stepped up into the helicopter. Nick stood, letting her take the seat between them, so they could both hear her report. Before he sat again, he leaned into the pilot’s compartment and gave the order to take off.

  The noise from the copter ratcheted up quickly. Lucas grabbed the headset hanging over his seat and put it on, as Zelma and Nick did the same. Zelma glanced at Lucas, and seeing his nod, produced an iPad and pulled up not just a picture of the house but a map of the grounds, as well.

  “Klemens only purchased this place ten years ago. The old real estate listing is still there, and my computer guy pulled up the plat from the tax records. The scouts have it, too, and say it’s pretty accurate. Doesn’t show the surrounding landscape, of course, but I’m more interested in the structures.”

  Lucas nodded. “What about numbers?”

  “The sco
ut who took a look is no master vampire, so it’s a best guess. He says more than ten, fewer than twenty. All on the ground floor and, he assumes, the basement.”

  “The basement is almost certain,” Nick commented.

  “Agreed,” Zelma said. “And we have to assume the number of fighters is on the high end of his estimate. If it’s lower, fine. If not, we’re prepared.”

  “I’m not worried about numbers,” Lucas reminded them impatiently. “I’ll know who’s in that house as soon as I’m on-scene.”

  Zelma dipped her head, clearly embarrassed. “Apologies, my lord.”

  Lucas nodded his understanding. He could feel battle lust beginning to grow in the vampires filling the big helicopter, the hunger for blood and violence. Zelma was a strong vampire and a good leader, but she wasn’t immune to it, either. Even Nick’s eyes were beginning to glow around the edges as his power rose in response to the thickening air of violence, and Nick had seen more battles at Lucas’s side than anyone else here.

  Lucas took the iPad from Zelma and studied the target. There was no cover directly around the house. They’d be approaching in the open and uphill, but if Klemens’s people weren’t expecting them, that shouldn’t be a problem. The question was whether Klemens had sent out an alert to all of his vampires when he realized Lucas had crossed his border.

  “Can you call your scouts without giving away their position?” he asked Zelma.

  “Yes, my lord.”

  “Do it. Ask if they’ve seen any indication that Klemens’s people have been warned, any sudden burst of guard activity.”

  “Klemens knows you’re here,” she guessed accurately.

  “Of course. But did he think to warn this particular barracks?”

  Zelma’s thumbs flew as she opted to contact her scouts via text. It was growing far too noisy in the helicopter for anything but a shouted conversation. Her grin grew as she read the response and when she looked up, her eyes were glowing red with eagerness.

  “Nothing, my lord. They’ve located a single lookout and will take him out on your command.”

  Lucas frowned. If this were one of his border staging areas, he’d have at least two fighters on patrol at all times. On the other hand, this particular house wasn’t that far from Klemens’s main headquarters in Chicago, so perhaps they felt secure enough not to bother. They’d learn the error of their ways soon enough.

  “Tell them to hang back, wait until I get there. I want to see for myself before we commit to anything.” He flicked a switch and spoke to the pilot through his headset, “ETA?”

  “Twelve minutes, Sire. We’re putting you down in a field a mile distant and downwind. They shouldn’t hear a thing.”

  “Excellent.” A mile run was nothing for his vampires, but he’d have to be sure they knew the battle plan going in. Once they were on the ground and running, they’d be on the hunt, their blood flowing hot, adrenaline pumping.

  Lucas grinned savagely. This was going to be sweet.

  * * * *

  Lucas stood perfectly still and stared up at the old house. As Zelma’s real estate photo had shown, it was an older two-story brick with a pitched roof and a small sun porch to one side. He let his power wash lightly over the house, slithering into every crack, cupboard and closet, up every stair and down into the basement. He smiled. Klemens was going to be furious.

  “Seventeen vampires, one a master,” he murmured. “And no humans.” This last was a relief. Humans would have greatly complicated his task tonight. He’d handle the master himself, although Nick or even Zelma could probably do it as well.

  “The scouts were right, just the one lookout. Take him out now. Quietly, Zelma. I want no warning bells. We’re going in hot. A blitz attack—surround the house, overwhelming force. They’re clearly not expecting anyone, and they’re sure as hell not expecting me.”

  Zelma said a single word into her throat mike. They were all wearing similar communication gear, except Lucas. He didn’t need electronics to communicate with his vampires, not once he unleashed the full measure of his power.

  “Ready, my lord,” Zelma and Nick both whispered at almost the exact same time.

  Lucas climbed the hill slowly, loosening the bindings on his power a little more with every step he took. Living among humans meant wearing a mask. Not just a pleasant face for the locals to see, but lashing his power down tightly so he could walk on the street without buffeting humans and vampires aside, without rattling the walls when he grew angry, or sending entire rooms full of humans into an irrational panic they didn’t understand. He was a vampire lord. He was power incarnate, but he rarely bared his true face to the world.

  Tonight was one of those times, and he reveled in the beauty of it, as his power streamed out, surrounding him, waiting to be tapped, waiting for the taste of an enemy’s blood. The darkness around Lucas lit with golden fire as his eyes reflected the rise of his power. Unnatural winds began to toss the trees overhead, growing stronger until the trees themselves bowed before it, thick trunks groaning as they gave in to the unstoppable force. Lucas swept his arms forward, gathering the wind and tossing it at the house. It hit with a thundering crack of sound, like a sonic boom. Windows spidered, then shattered. Shingles flew from the roof, and the sun room collapsed.

  From inside the house, he heard the first cries of shock and fear. No matter how stalwart Klemens’s warriors were, they had just become aware of the monster waiting outside in the dark. And they knew death had come to call.

  “Go,” Lucas whispered onto the wind, and every one of his vampires heard it as if he’d spoken directly into their ear.They responded with a roar, crashing through doors and windows, racing into the house from all sides, howling for blood. Lucas cast his essence deeper into the house, seeding the air with terror, with every nightmare his enemies had ever dreamed. The screaming started as his vampires struck, the disbelieving cries of nearly immortal beings as they died.

  Lucas’s attention was drawn to a single vampire in a corner of the house, near the fireplace. It was the master vampire, the strongest of Klemens’s creatures present. “Mine,” he said, and walked through the gaping hole where the front door had once been.

  Several of Lucas’s vampires surrounded him as he strode forward. The fighting still raged deep in the house, a few diehards holding out against the inevitable. But the master vampire was waiting for Lucas, crouched in an attack position, fingers curled into claws and fangs dripping blood over his lower lip. His eyes were wild with fear as he looked upon Lucas, but they were filled with determination, too. He was too young to know his fate was already cast. Still, Lucas had to admire his courage in holding out as long as he had—and in remaining standing at all in the face of Lucas’s power.

  Time to end that.

  “Kneel,” Lucas commanded softly and drove the vampire to his knees with a hammer blow of power.

  The young master grunted in pain as his knees cracked against the hardwood floor.

  “What are you orders from Klemens?”

  The vampire glared at the surrounding vampires, then met Lucas’s gaze defiantly. He knew, as Lucas did too, that Klemens would be on his way soon, if he wasn’t already. Lucas’s invasion of Klemens’s territory would have been enough to put the Chicago vampire lord on alert, but the violent death of so many of his vampires at once would be a beacon telling him where Lucas had attacked. And this young master vampire thought he could hold out until his Sire arrived.

  Lucas smiled. “He’ll never get here in time,” he told the vampire almost sadly. “I’ll be long gone, and so will you.”

  The vampire blinked as he took in the meaning of Lucas’s words, but remained defiant.

  “I can take it from your mind, boy,” Lucas growled impatiently. “It will be less painful if you just tell me.”

  The vampire responded by spitting a glob of blood at Lucas’s feet, and Lucas laughed. “I like your spirit. Too bad it’s wasted on that bastard Klemens. The hard way it is, then.”
<
br />   Lucas sifted his power into the young master’s brain, immobilizing him even as he rooted through the vampire’s thoughts. He flashed quickly through recent memory, seeing Klemens’s hateful face and then a safe. In the basement. How quaint.

  He withdrew from his captive’s head and took a step back. The vampire was slumped forward, head hanging, chin nearly resting on his chest. But he was still breathing. Lucas considered his prisoner. He had everything he needed from this one, or at least everything the vampire had to give him. The only thing left was death. He couldn’t afford to leave the enemy vampire alive, but he could kill him painlessly.

  With what was clearly a supreme effort, the young master vampire raised his head. His eyes were unfocused, and he blinked several times before he was able to glare his hatred at Lucas once more. “My Sire will kill you,” he rasped. “I’ll see you in hell.”

  “Probably,” Lucas replied cheerfully, then slammed his fist into the vampire’s chest and ripped out his heart. “But you’ll see your beloved Sire there long before you’ll see me.”

  The vampire crumbled into dust. Lucas’s vampires swore and stepped back quickly to avoid getting splashed with any of it. Why they bothered, Lucas didn’t know, since they were already liberally painted with the blood of their enemies.

  “Nicholas,” he said, almost casually.

  “Sire?”

  “There’s a safe in the basement. I want everything that’s in it. Everything. Zelma, get that helicopter over here to pick us up, then detail two of your people to drive the SUVs. I want them gone before we leave.”

  While Nick and Zelma ran to follow his orders, Lucas gazed around the demolished house. His people had taken him literally, coming in from all sides. Every door and window he laid eyes on was destroyed, and someone had actually broken through the wall from the sun porch. The air was thick with the dust of too many dead vampires. It was a musty stench, with an overlay of old blood. He heard the helicopter come in to hover overhead and strode back through the house quickly. He might not mind the smell of his dead enemies, but he didn’t want to be covered in their dust from the helicopter’s rotor wash, either. He kept going until he was under the dark trees, then took a moment to cast his awareness out, searching for Klemens.

 

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