by Aliya DalRae
“In case what?” Martin asked, his brain still fuzzy from that single shot.
“In case something bad—”
“Or good!” Kyte chimed in.
“Or good happens. You won’t be able to control the spark, and we’re gonna be out among the humanoids.”
Kyte’s brow narrowed into a puzzled V. “Aren’t we humanoid?”
“You know what I mean,” Oz said. He stood and stretched out his lanky frame, then rubbed at his short, spiked hair. “Put ‘em in, Martin, and we’ll get this show on the road.”
Martin went to the bathroom and set the case down on the long metal shelf below the bank of mirrors over the sinks. He unscrewed one of the lids and found a dark circular film floating in some sort of liquid. He’d watched enough TV, seen plenty of commercials, and so had an idea what to do. It took longer than he anticipated to get the little things lined up right against his eyeball without flipping them inside out, but he somehow managed it. Once there, the room took on a darkened haze. The Vampahol still buzzed through his system, and he wondered how much of the darkness was attributable to Oz’s fantastic discovery. The liquid one, not the ocular.
It didn’t matter. It had been nearly fifteen minutes since he’d thought about Merlin. That was some kind of record, and if one drink could do that, he couldn’t wait to find out what three or four or twelve would do.
With his eyes safely covered and an unquenchable desire to forget, he joined his fellow Soldiers in the rec room for another shot, and then another. The next time he thought about Merlin, hours had passed.
Chapter Six
M erlin joined Viper in the elevator, and they rode in silence up to the science lab. It was a huge space, encompassing nearly an entire wing of the Sub T Level. Tall cabinets lined the walls, containing all manner of chemicals and experimental paraphernalia. Ten by four workspaces sat at five-foot intervals down the center of the room, and an enclosed shooting range butted the far end. Viper was an expert in a lot of things, but munitions were his specialty, both blowing things up and preventing things from being blown.
Merlin followed him to the end of the room and looked through the thick glass separating the firing range from the rest of the lab. An impressive selection of firearms was laid out on a felt-lined table that rested against this side of the glass wall. Merlin picked up a handgun and inspected it while Viper fiddled with something on the nearest workstation.
“Come here,” Viper said, his green eyes narrow slits as he waited for Merlin to replace the Glock where he’d found it and join him at the table. He pushed aside the detritus of his workday—a bunch of test tubes, a laptop open and running analyses, and papers covered with chicken scratches—and reached across the counter. “Give me your wrist.”
Merlin held out his arm, and Viper clamped a wide band around what was offered. It was shiny and black and looked like metal, but when it touched his skin, Merlin knew different. “Hematite?” he asked.
Viper nodded as Merlin examined the piece. “What the…” the seam where the band joined together had disappeared, leaving nothing but smooth stone the entire circumference of the band.
“I borrowed some of the technology from the stuff we confiscated out of Fuhrmann’s office at the munitions plant. He had a shitload of magical, well, shit, laying around, and I’ve been all year playing with it, trying to see how it works. Here.” He reached for Merlin’s other arm and clamped on an identical band. The click this time took on an ominous feel as Merlin examined the place where the seam should be.
“These cuffs form some kind of a force field. When I put them on, they hide my true form. I can spark and fang out till the cows come home, but to anyone outside the field of magic, I appear normal.”
Merlin took in the male’s shaved head, tattoos peeking from the top of his wife beater, and the wardrobe straight from Biker’s R Us. Yep. Totally normal.
“If I’m right, they should keep you from transmitting when you Shade out. Call it.”
“That’s not a good idea.”
“Call the Shade,” Viper said.
When Merlin hesitated, Viper put a leather-gloved hand on his shoulder, led him to a chair and sat him down. “Do you trust me?”
Merlin shook his head. “It’s not you I don’t trust,” he said. “It’s me.”
Viper retrieved the Glock Merlin had admired earlier, chambered a round, and aimed it at Merlin’s head. “How about now?”
Merlin stared at the hole where a nine-millimeter projectile could fly through at an incredible velocity. At this range, it would create a cavity in the back of his skull so large, no amount of Vampire blood would heal it. It would be a solution to all their problems. The Dark Warriors would be appeased, the Legion, and more importantly, Merlin’s family, would be safe.
Maybe it would be better if Viper just pulled the trigger. Merlin closed his eyes, wondering what it would be like if this were all over. If he could put the Dark Warriors behind him for good, and never have to worry about the lives he put in danger on a daily basis, simply by being who and what he was. He didn’t realize he’d moved until Viper swore.
“What the fuck, Merlin?” The male didn’t yell, but his words were like a knife, sharp and cutting.
Merlin opened his eyes but had to squint for things to pull into focus. It was only then that he felt the cold steel pressed against his forehead. Viper’s hand shook as it pressed the barrel against his cranium a second longer before he pulled the weapon up and away.
“Step back, my brother. Now.”
Merlin did as Viper said yet couldn’t help but feel he’d missed out on a once in a lifetime opportunity.
“I guess that answers my question.” Viper lowered the gun, but the look he was throwing said he figured Merlin had lost his ever-lovin’ mind. “You really didn’t think I’d shoot, did you?”
Merlin studied the floor, shook his head. “I only hoped,” he whispered, his response vague enough that it could go either way.
“Well get the fuck over it.” Viper expelled the chambered round and returned the gun to its place on the table. With the weapon safely out of reach, he moved Merlin a few stations away from the shooting range, muttering all the while about assholes missing the point and other indecipherable things. He pulled out a stool and stabbed a finger at it. “Sit.”
Merlin planted his ass where Viper indicated and studied the cuffs on his wrists. Could they really shield his emotions from the Senshi?
“Talk.”
“I don’t know what you want me to say.”
“I’m not gonna ask why, for one second, you thought a bullet to the brain was a viable option. And I won’t waste my breath explaining what you should already know: that that little exercise was to remind you how much you trust me, not to give you a fucked-up way out of your shit. What I will ask is why you don’t trust me to keep not just you but every Vampire on this Compound safe.”
“Are you really that naïve? You said you’ve fought the Senshi before. If so, then you should know exactly why I have my doubts.”
“Or, you could look at it like this. I’ve fought them and I lived, so I know how to beat them.”
“How is that, anyway?” Merlin didn’t doubt the male told the truth. However, he’d spent too much time with the Kurai Senshi, knew their ways intimately. It was difficult to believe that even someone of Viper’s caliber could walk away from a fight with them unscathed. There had to be a story there.
Viper shrugged, but he shifted his feet and rubbed his shaved head. “Not much to tell. Apparently, I insulted this asshole’s honor, and he got pissed. Still not sure how I did that, but you know how sensitive they are about shit.”
Merlin knew all too well. Honor was everything to the Dark Warriors, and he had dishonored them in the worst possible way. To add insult to injury, he’d then refused to make amends by taking his own life. It was the honorable thing to do, they’d said, and he knew they were right by their canons. He just didn’t agree with their reasonin
g.
“It must have been pretty bad if he challenged you,” Merlin said.
“Probably, but I wouldn’t call it a challenge. Bastard confronted me outside a bar in Bangkok. ‘Course I told him to fuck off, but he had a knife and the Shade on his side, and he wasn’t afraid to use them.” Viper rubbed his shoulder absently. “You know, it’s not impossible to fight in the dark.”
“You’ve been watching Bird Box again, haven’t you?” Merlin asked, but Viper shook his head.
“I’m serious. Just because we’re not Kurai Senshi doesn’t mean we’re without skills. We’re still Vampire, and we have four other senses to rely on when we fight. The Soldiers can be taught to use them when the lights go out.”
An escaped lock of hair fell into Merlin’s eyes and he tucked it behind his ear with a sigh. “I hear what you’re saying, Viper, but that takes time. Things are escalating with me, and if we don’t find a way to block out the Shade, it’s only a matter of time before they find me, and the Compound by default.”
Viper tapped a cigarette from the pack lying on the table and tucked it behind his ear in a bizarre imitation of Merlin’s hair habit. “You’re right,” he said. “Time’s a wastin’. Let’s test these puppies out.”
Chapter Seven
G ood Times was hopping. Even this near closing, they were filled to the rafters, the humans’ capacity for partying and debauchery never ceasing to amaze. During the week, they were all about their jobs, most going home at a respectable hour to prepare for another day of same ‘ol, same ‘ol. But come Friday night?
Raven looked around the bar. Two half-dressed females had climbed onto a table and were dancing like drunken idiots. He wasn’t surprised to see three Legion Soldiers sniffing around the females, but he threw out a warning look when he caught Oz’s eye. They were off the clock, so what they did on their time was their business, but it never hurt to remind the younger Soldiers of their true purpose in this town.
Oz tossed him back a mock salute and Raven left them to their own detriment.
Perry returned from the bar, a couple of long-necks dangling between his fingers. He handed one to Raven, and then turned to watch the three Soldiers as he took a long drink of beer. He wasn’t that much older than them, and it wasn’t lost on Raven that not too many months ago, Perry might have been among them. Since his girl died, though, Perry had thrown himself into his work, only taking time off when Tas forced him to.
Watching him watch the young Soldiers, that haunted look in his eye, sent a twinge of guilt through Raven’s heart. True, he hadn’t been the one to kill the girl, but still he felt responsible. He thought about reaching out with his mind touch to see what Perry was thinking, if he was blaming Raven in any way. But Jessica said that was rude, so he tried not to do it if he could help it.
He started to say something, to suggest they move on to their next stop when a wave of static slapped his brain. He’d dropped his shields while contemplating that sneak peek into Perry’s thoughts, had left the channel wide open, so to speak, and that crackle of white noise slipped right in. He knew instantly what it was. Sorcerer.
He looked around the bar, his senses on high alert as Perry picked up on his attitude and joined the search for any obvious threat.
“What is it?”
“Sorcerer,” Raven said, so focused on the buzzing in his brain he couldn’t elaborate. At least he’d given his partner something to look for. Maybe the Soldier’s younger eyes would see what Raven’s weren’t. It was there, that old-radio-between-stations sound that identified in Raven’s mind as strictly Sorcerer, and yet there wasn’t a white-haired skinny guy in the whole bar. Raven walked around, trying to home in on the signal, but nothing.
He stood in the spot where the noise was the loudest, but still saw no one to fit a Sorcerer’s characteristic description. Nothing but loud, obnoxious humans as far as the eye could see. He tried opening his mind to the other voices in the room, but they were too numerous and too disjointed for him to get a clear image of who was thinking what.
He narrowed it back to the radio static and realized that the noise had begun to fade. He twisted his head left to right, and caught sight of a slender female, about five-foot eight with shoulder length brown hair, heading for the door. He touched the device in his ear and said, “Perry, brunette, front door,” and made a beeline in that direction.
He’d taken but two steps before a group of humans converged in front of him. A woman grabbed his hands and tried to put them on her ass, but he pulled away and dodged around the revelers. He reached the exit about three seconds before Perry did and they both hit the street in search of the woman.
Perry took off to the right and Raven went left, just as a Toyota pulled away from the curb across the street, tires screeching as it sped away. The noise in Raven’s head faded as the distance between him and the car grew. With none of the Sorcerer’s telltale attributes, he hadn’t a clue as to who or what she was. What he did know was that when she saw them, she ran. That was never a good sign.
Perry joined him on the side of the curb and Raven pulled out his cell phone, hit a couple of buttons. “Mason,” he said, when the Warlord answered. “Something’s up.”
Chapter Eight
S asha reached the house she’d rented at the edge of town in record time and parked her Toyota out of sight behind the two-story farm house. Her lease was month to month, and the place was entirely too big for her, but it was furnished, and the owner was willing to accommodate her on very short notice.
She entered through the kitchen door and tossed her keys on the counter next to an ancient toaster before moving on to the bathroom. There, she stood at the sink, hands braced on the rust-stained porcelain bowl, and struggled to catch her breath.
Why had she run?
The whole point of being in Fallen Cross was to find the Legion and see if Mason’s offer had been real. After liberating her and Nox from the Primeval, the Warlord had been more than gracious. He’d offered to bring her back to their Compound, give her a place to stay, to collect herself until she figured out what she wanted to do.
She’d considered it briefly, but she had more pressing things to deal with, namely, finding her father. She knew what the Legion thought of him, that he was an evil monster, and maybe they were right. But she’d missed her chance to find out. Ulrich Fuhrmann had flitted in and out of her life so quickly she didn’t even get the chance to tell him he had a daughter.
Sasha lifted her head and looked into the vanity mirror. She didn’t recognize the woman staring from the glass. Hair that once hung below her waist, now rested at her shoulders, just the right length to pull into a tight braid or a low knot, but not so long as to stand out. That, however, wasn’t the thing that made her look twice each time she saw her reflection.
Gone was the white-blonde hair typical of her fellow Sorcerers. Her locks were now a lovely, inconspicuous shade of brown—the box called it truffle. The surprise had come from the silver in her hair taking on a reddish hue. It highlighted the simple shade, giving it an interesting depth she hadn’t expected, but rather liked.
Brown contact lenses concealed her pale blue irises, and hours of YouTube videos accounted for the makeup she now expertly wore. To the average person, she looked completely human.
Mason had proven to be quite generous as well. Even after she refused his offer of flying to the States, he’d set her up with a bank account and contacts in London should she require assistance. She’d only called on them once, and that was for help in acquiring a laptop with Undernet access. If she was going to find her father, she would need more than what the human internet could offer.
Armed with her search engine, she’d acquired a little flat over a bakery in London where she spent hours sampling the shop’s wares and looking for some sign that her father had resurfaced. That was how she’d learned of the Legion plane going down in the Atlantic Ocean.
Sasha turned on the water and grabbed a washcloth to cleanse her fac
e of the gunk caked on her skin. With her skin glowing, she popped out the contacts and stored them in their solution-filled containers. As much as she liked her new look, it felt so good to strip off the mask and be herself at the end of the day. Apart from the hair, of course.
She’d considered using magic to alter her appearance, knew it would have been so much easier. However, the resultant amount of static in her hair would have countered the point of trying to blend in. Ultimately, it was easier to use human disguise techniques, even if some of them proved annoying.
Once she had her pajamas on, she settled in the living room in front of the television. It was just noise, really, but her near run-in with Nox’s twin had unsettled her more than she wanted to admit. She dragged her hand through her hair, her heart clenching anew, as though she’d just learned of Nox’s and the others’ almost certain demise.
Speculation across the Undernet was that her father had done something to the plane to cause the accident, and she couldn’t deny that possibility. His hatred for the twins, Nox and Raven, was apparently soul deep, and she wouldn’t put it past him to try another ploy to destroy them, especially when his last attempt had failed.
When she learned that both Legion males survived, she knew it was time to move. Her father’s enemies were still alive. If she had any chance of finding him at all, she needed to be close to the Fallen Cross Legion, the nearer the better.
So why had she run?
That was the question, wasn’t it? As eager as she was to find her father, she’d had the displeasure of meeting Raven and he scared the crap out of her. Surely, if she’d gone to him, asked him for help, he would have been required to assist her, regardless of his feelings toward her and the role she played in his brother’s tortured past. But then one never knew.
It wasn’t her fault, what happened in London. Nox didn’t blame her, but Raven wasn’t the only one of their little group who’d shot eye daggers at her as she was forced to do the Primeval’s cruel bidding. She knew most felt she should have been punished along with Magnus, but fortunately for her, calmer minds prevailed. That’s how she landed not only her freedom but a healthy bank account as well.