Area of Influence (Immortal Ops Book 8)

by Mandy M. Roth

  As she stared out at the rising sun, she heard the water in the bathroom tub come on. She never questioned how it was Taylor had managed to get running water to the building when it was clear that it had been without for so long. She did know that Taylor had rigged up a system that left them borrowing power from the strip bar next door. She didn’t harbor much guilt over it, even though she knew it was wrong.

  She knew without looking that Fredrick was seeing to it she had a warm bath drawn. He liked to make sure she took care of herself.

  “Did you rid the young couple’s house of the evil entity?” he asked from the bathroom.

  “No. It’s been there a long time. It’s strong. I wounded it,” she said with a soft sigh. “When I left, I felt the darkness in the city again. It was strong. I think it killed last night. That was why I could feel it so much.”

  “The police will cover it up. They won’t risk tourism falling because of a rising body count,” said Fredrick from the bathroom. The sound of running water stopped. “Your bath is ready. I’ll be downstairs if you need me.”

  “Thanks,” she said, still staring out the window.

  “Emi, I know you won’t listen, but we all wish you’d stop drawing attention to yourself by using your gifts. Whatever is out there is hunting people like you—people with magik. It has the other side scared. Even the dark power that lives here is fearful of it.”

  “It’s my duty to help protect those who can’t protect themselves,” she said, repeating the words her uncle had instilled in her from a young age. “The couple needed someone to step in. I couldn’t leave them to fight it on their own.”

  “You could have told them to get out of the house,” said Fredrick.

  She nodded. “I could have, but the thing there would have just kept terrorizing everyone who moved in.”

  “It still will,” said Fredrick.

  “Not once Father Angelo is finished with it,” she said.

  Her uncle had been the one to teach her about spirits and how to deal with them. Both good and bad. Growing up with her uncle had been a unique experience, and she knew no different. She’d never had a real home. Every place she’d lived had been temporary, and rarely did they have running water and electricity. They had gotten by and continued the good fight—protecting humans from things they didn’t even think were real.

  Monsters.

  Things that went bump in the night.

  And some things that weren’t hindered by sunlight.

  It was all she’d ever known.

  With a heavy heart, Emi headed into the bathroom. At one point in the home’s past, it had been renovated, but time had not been kind. The claw-footed tub still held water but had permanent hard-water stains. The subway tiles on the wall were cracked in some spots and totally missing in others. The black-and-white-striped wallpaper above the tiles, partway up the wall, showed the aged, older paper beneath it. There was a huge water stain in the upper corner of the ceiling from where the roof leaked. The sink was broken on one edge but it still held water and functioned, so she thought it was perfect. The toilet worked, and since many of the places she’d called home in her life had been without a working one, she was pleased.

  Her favorite part of the room was the huge mirror that hung on the wall. It was old and had a bit of water damage on one side, but it was still beautiful and ornate. She didn’t understand why it had been left behind, but it didn’t surprise her too much. With the number of spirits in the home, it stood to reason that occupants would vacate quickly out of fear, leaving behind things they normally wouldn’t.

  Emi took her red cami off and set it on the sink’s edge before slipping off her long yellow and red, flowered, flowing skirt, doing the same with it as she had the top. She tied her hair into a loose bun on top of her head and then climbed into the tub. When she felt the warm water on her body, she smiled and glanced in the direction of the bathroom door.

  “Fredrick, you’re an angel!” she yelled, knowing he’d tapped into his powers to warm the water for her. It was amazing what spirits who had been earthbound for a long time could do. With each passing year, they became more powerful. Such was the case with Fredrick.

  Chapter Six

  Auberi Bouchard grunted as his fellow Crimson-Ops teammate, Searc Macleod, turned on the lights in the hotel room. It was as if stadium lighting had been installed without Auberi’s knowledge. For a minute, he worried Searc had decided to end it all and had let in sunlight—something they both did their best to avoid.

  “Rise and shine, Frenchie,” said the Scottish vampire, as he proceeded to go through the hotel room turning on every light he could find. When he began to hum a song from Scotland of old, Auberi considered getting up to kill his technically already dead friend. They’d known each other a long time and trusted one another without question.

  “You know you’re a dick, right?” asked Auberi.

  “Aye,” returned Searc, adding words to his song.

  Shielding his eyes, Auberi snarled, his vampire eyes sensitive to the light. He’d gone out partying the night prior and didn’t feel like he’d slept at all. He closed his eyes and felt around for his phone, knocking it from the bedside table as he did. He cursed again as he leaned to retrieve it, the bed sheets pulling low, exposing his nude body partially.

  “For fuck’s sake,” snapped Searc, his brogue coming through even more than normal. “I do nae need to see yer naked self. Cover up.”

  “You’re the one in my hotel room. And you’re the one who helped himself in without knocking,” Auberi said, finding his phone and pressing the button to check the time. He frowned as he saw it was well past sunset. He should have felt fully rested. He didn’t. He felt a lot like he’d been hit by a bus. “What the hell did Blaise give me last night?”

  “I do nae know, but you should know he looks far worse than you,” said Searc from the window area.

  Auberi had gone out with his teammate, Blaise Regnier, and a man he considered one of his best friends, Malik Nasser. All the men were technically PSI-Ops, but Malik wasn’t a card-carrying member of the Crimson Sentinel Ops, also referred to as the Fang Gang by other operatives, because they were comprised fully of vampires. Malik was a lion-shifter, and could walk without issue in the sun’s light. That was something most of the vampires in PSI struggled with.

  Auberi missed the sun, to a point, but had learned to live his existence in its absence. He’d seen many of his brethren turn ugly with hate as the years ticked by, leaving them trapped in darkness. There were days he felt the pull to the side of evil, but he resisted. At least for now. Time would tell if he’d remain strong or if the lure of the demon he carried within him would win, as had been the case with more than one of his blood brothers.

  You will not become Pierre, he thought, the idea of turning into what Pierre had become too much for Auberi to fathom.

  Malik had been temporarily tasked to Auberi’s Fang Gang unit as they continued to try to hunt for leads on The Corporation and its key players. That was what had led them to New Orleans. They’d been tracking a group of newly formed vampires who had partnered up with a large number of hybrids.

  That had led to nothing good.

  The death count in the city was on the rise, and those in the area who worked hard to hide the truth of supernaturals’ existence from humans were running out of ways to cover up the crimes. Already the digital underground was linking the increase in crime and violence to supernaturals. It had been all the PSI tech teams could do to try to pull down the blogs and forums. They’d get one down, and four more would pop up, each talking about the truth of supernaturals, of PSI, of the Immortal Ops, of The Corporation. If the information managed to find its way to the mainstream media outlets or took root with everyday, non-crazy conspiracy theorists, it would lead to mass pandemonium.

  Humans really liked to panic.

  Morons.

  “Yer lazy. Get up,” stressed Searc, sounding like a mother hen. He used to be fun. Since
he’d mated, only a week prior, he’d become boring. That had to be a record.

  Auberi lay in bed, quivering at the thought of being tied to one person the rest of his immortally long life. As much as he longed for companionship, he didn’t want it at the high price tag that came with a mate.

  The loss of freedom.

  No.

  He much rather preferred the single life. He could come and go as he pleased, and party with his friends as often as he wanted. More importantly, he could bed who he wanted, when he wanted. He liked that freedom most of all, and couldn’t imagine wanting only one person for always.

  He shuddered again at the thought.

  “I’m too old for New Orleans,” said Auberi, feeling every century he had under his belt.

  Searc hummed merrily as he continued to make his presence known in the most annoying ways. The man had been mated for a week, and already his eternal Susie Sunshine demeanor was becoming an issue. Auberi hated to say he missed the old Searc, but the always-smiling one was freaking him out. He liked to think he was open to just about anything. Eternal optimism wasn’t on the list. “Go away, or I’ll get out of this bed and do jumping jacks naked.”

  “Gah, do nae even think of it,” said Searc, throwing a pair of slacks at Auberi. “Get dressed. We’ve bad guys to hunt.”

  “In a hurry to get back to your mate?” asked Auberi, already knowing the answer to the question. A mate was someone created specifically for a person’s other half—their perfect someone. Searc had been lucky enough to find his mate, and he’d finally gotten around to claiming her. Now, the entire team was subjected to Pollyanna. It was part of why they’d decided to go out on the town and party their first night in.

  Searc had wanted to video conference with his woman, and none of the men wanted to hang around the hotel while Searc and his mate, Jessie, made lovey-dovey noises at one another over the internet. Instead, the single men had taken off and done their best to party as if there was no tomorrow. Auberi wasn’t sure how much alcohol they’d consumed, but he did know it was far more than humans could have withstood. And with the way he still felt, after having slept several hours, he could only imagine how far gone they’d all been.

  He smacked his lips together. “Gah. Cottonmouth.”

  Searc pitched a water bottle in Auberi’s direction and gave him a hard look. “Get dressed. The sun is down. We could already be on the trail of the bad guys.”

  The door to the room opened and Malik appeared, wearing a pair of sunglasses, looking like he wanted to rip Searc’s head off.

  Auberi remained in bed, the covers only just barely covering his groin. He wasn’t one to sleep in clothes. “Let me guess, he came barging into your room, turning on all the lights too?”

  Malik lowered his sunglasses, his gaze narrowing on Searc. “Will anyone miss him if I kill him?”

  “His woman would,” said Auberi, standing and putting his back to his friends. Cool air from the room moved over his exposed backside.

  “Auberi, cover your French arse!” snapped Searc.

  Auberi glanced over his shoulder at his backside and then grinned at Searc. “How about I turn around and show you my very French front side?”

  Malik snorted and crossed his arms over his chest. “I had to get up and get dressed. You’re not getting out of this either. I’ll drag your naked ass out there to hunt these hybrid dickheads.”

  Auberi batted his eyes. “Say my naked ass again. Sexy.”

  Malik’s jaw hardened. “I’ll kill you too when I’m done killing the annoying Scottish vamp.”

  Searc ignored them both and grabbed the slacks he’d tossed to Auberi. He thrust them out. “Put them on, or we’ll hogtie you and do it ourselves.”

  Auberi flashed a wide smile.

  Malik groaned. “Stop. He looks hopeful.”

  “Are we doing this shit or not?” asked Blaise as he entered the hotel room, wearing black leather from head to toe. He went right to the bed and flopped onto it face first, seemingly unconcerned with Auberi being fully naked next to the very bed he was on.

  “Think he realizes how close my junk is to his head?” asked Auberi.

  Malik snorted. “Hell no.”

  “I think he’s too hungover to care,” said Searc.

  Auberi drew upon his years of living in America and spoke in his version of an American accent. “He said hung.”

  “Dumbarse,” returned Searc.

  Auberi lifted his hand and flipped off the Scot. “You’re the asshole, my friend. You’re the one who woke me up. Not the other way around.”

  “You and Malik should feel honored. I only turned on the lights in yer rooms. I had to dump a bucket of ice on Blaise.”

  “And you’re a bag of dicks for it too. All in favor of letting the bad guys go this one time?” asked Blaise, his face still planted in the bed sheets as he lifted an arm in the air.

  Malik raised his hand too.

  Daniel Townsend, the captain of their Crimson Op unit, entered the room next and paused, soaking in the sight of everyone gathering there. Always one to pay attention to detail, Auberi noticed Daniel’s shirt straight away. It was a navy, long-sleeved shirt with pointed collars. It looked good against the medium-gray slacks he’d paired it with. “What are we voting on?”

  “Nae doing our jobs,” said Searc, looking somewhat unkempt in a screen-print T-shirt and a kilt. The biker boots he wore with the ensemble really drove home the fact he didn’t really give a shit what anyone thought of him. He had plenty of money to buy finer things, as PSI paid extremely well, and most immortals had learned to be great with investments, but Searc didn’t feel the need to be anything more than he’d been prior to being sired. Sure, his home was nice, but his wardrobe always made Auberi cringe.

  Malik raised a second hand, leaving him with both arms lifted high in the air. “I’m all in on that tonight. Let someone else deal with this.”

  “You do nae get two votes, Tut,” said Searc to Malik, calling the man the nickname they’d given him long ago because he was actually ancient Egyptian.

  “I’m the only one who can walk in the sun here, so I get as many votes as I want,” pressed Malik, still looking at Searc as if he wanted to murder the man for waking him. “You’d think I’d be used to how annoying you are. I work with Striker on a daily basis.”

  “Do nae be calling my people annoying,” said Searc, defending a fellow Scotsman.

  “Did we get jumped last night?” asked Blaise, his head still down flat on the bed. “Seriously, feels like my ass has been thoroughly kicked.”

  The last thing Auberi remembered fully was Blaise suggesting they start drinking absinthe. Clearly, that had gone better than they’d hoped. He could remember them paying extra to be permitted to simply sit at the bar drinking more and more. From there, the rest of the night was fuzzy, at best.

  Auberi turned to face his friends, giving them a full frontal, and they all glared at him. Shrugging, he took his slacks and headed for the bathroom. He was hardly bashful. “I’ll remind you all that you’re in my hotel room. If you don’t like walking in to find me naked, do not walk in.”

  “Who is he kidding?” asked Malik. “He loves putting on a show.”

  Auberi snorted as he dressed. He brushed his teeth and then headed back out into the room and to the closet to retrieve a shirt for the night. He laid the shirt on the bed next to Blaise then went to the dresser drawer to get an undershirt and socks. He found what he was looking for, and then proceeded to finish dressing.

  Daniel handed him a pair of dress shoes that went perfectly with his outfit. Had it been Blaise or Searc trying to assist him in getting ready, he’d have rejected their offer, knowing they weren’t big on dressing nice. Daniel and Malik were. They, like Auberi, preferred designer clothing. Searc liked kilts. And Blaise liked looking as if he were a Goth punk and criminal.

  “I hate you all,” said Blaise as he lifted his head slightly, his long black hair falling into his face, coverin
g a number of his silver piercings.

  “You do nae and you know it,” said Searc, clapping his hands loudly. “Let’s go kill bad guys.”

  Malik lowered his arms. “Well, when you put it that way, I’m all in.”

  Auberi laughed, the idea of getting to kill things sounding good to him too. He went toward the bed and tapped Blaise’s leg. “Come on, brother.”

  They shared a maker, making them blood brothers, even though they weren’t biologically related. They’d been family to one another since the day Auberi had been sired.

  Blaise had been going through something as of late, being even more reckless than normal. Pushing six hundred years old, Blaise had Auberi by more than a century, but he acted as if he was twenty at best.

  Auberi, unlike most of the men they worked with, knew the truth of Blaise’s past. Knew what the man had suffered through. What he’d overcome, and some of what haunted him.

  Auberi had his own proverbial cross to bear with the past. His own echoes from a time long ago. A time he wished he could forget, but it didn’t seem to want to leave him.

  Groaning, Blaise rolled onto his back and blinked up at Auberi. “Do we gotta?”

  “Yes,” said Daniel sternly.

  “Oh good,” said Auberi snidely. “Searc’s constant nitpicking and mother hen routine hasn’t been enough. We really needed another parent.”

  Daniel lifted a brow. “You lot require multiple supervisors,” he said, his British inflection coming through. “It’s actually quite amazing I haven’t had to hire a nanny to assist me when dealing with all of you.”

  “Make sure she’s hot,” said Blaise.

  Searc sighed, his attention going to Blaise. “If you hurry, you can maybe throw beads at hot chicks who flash you their breasts.”

  Blaise bounced off the bed with inhuman speed. “I’m in!”