Why These Two

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Why These Two Page 8

by Jackie Ivie


  “Why should we?”

  They said it in unison. That was funny.

  “Because I’m going to get up and take it if you don’t.”

  “You’re Reika’s mate, aren’t you?”

  “What do you think?”

  One of them nudged the other. “You see? I told you he was in there.”

  “Belt, Gentlemen?”

  “You do all the knife work in there?”

  “Pretty much. Why?”

  One of them whistled. The other looked back into the truck.

  “Looks like she chose well. I’m not getting between you two. Ethel?”

  “Don’t call me that. You know I hate it, Pokker.”

  One of them smacked the other in the shoulder. It wasn’t possible to tell them apart. Maybe when he knew them better. They were even dressed alike. Black leather pants, scuffed with the dust off the floor. Black shirts. Black leather jackets. They’d be great additions to any motorcycle gang.

  One of them pulled a long strip of rawhide from somewhere. Tossed it. Darryl caught it easily, had it looped about his leg and tied off, and sucked in a deep breath.

  “Don’t watch this,” he told them.

  “Why not?”

  “Because the first guy that touches me, loses his head.”

  “Damn. He even sounds like Reika.”

  Darryl yanked out the knife. Blood gushed almost immediately. He slapped a hand to it and pressed. And watched it stop within seconds. Any pain muted and disappeared almost as rapidly. Dang. This vampire stuff had a pretty large upside to it. If he could get around the biting and sucking blood part. He turned a blind eye and ear to what was happening right next to him with the injured Hunter as the two biker-looking guys fed. Or whatever they did.

  Sounds of a motorized craft invaded next, coming toward them with caution more than speed. Sounded like a 3.0L bi-turbo diesel. In perfect working order. Darryl got to his knees, and then gained his feet, dusting his hands off on the sides of his trousers. He looked pretty rough. Blood, dirt, and motor oil splattered his jacket, worn without a shirt. His slacks had taken a beating, too. He had a rip in one knee, and blood stained the hole where he’d been knifed. Beneath it was knitting skin. He checked, lifting the leg for visual verification. Yep. Nothing but pink flesh. Didn’t even look like he’d scar. Another upside to this vampire thing.

  “It’s probably Reika.”

  One of the twins got to his feet beside Darryl, looking him in the eye. The other joined them. Nice to know he was the same height. He still couldn’t tell them apart, though. And both looked difficult to take down in a bout. Either outweighed him by about forty pounds. Maybe more.

  “Shit.”

  “So, what’s the problem, guys? It’s Reika. What of it?”

  “She’s going to be pissed at us.”

  “Why? Looks to me like you accomplished a fine rescue.”

  “You’re not going to tell on us?”

  They were afraid of a little thing like Reika? His Reika? That was interesting. Darryl had to smile. He couldn’t help it. “About what?”

  “Uh…the machine gun.”

  Darryl swiveled to look over the truck. They did the same maneuver at his sides. He felt like a thin novel situated between large bookends. Weird. He’d never been around such large guys. And never two that were virtually identical. There was no way these guys could be covert. Size alone was trouble. Got you noticed. Having two, sizeable guys would gain notice anywhere they went.

  “Name’s Darryl, by the way.” He said. “Darryl Bailes.”

  “Athelrod.”

  The guy on his left spoke, although it didn’t matter. Darryl still wouldn’t be able to tell them apart. They needed to wear different colored shirts or something.

  “That other guy is Ethelstone.”

  “Scandinavian?”

  “Icelandic. Ninth Century.”

  “Wow. You guys have been around.” Darryl folded his arms and tipped his head slightly.

  “So? Are you going to rat us out or not?”

  That was Ethelstone. Darryl might be able to identify them from their personalities. That’s probably how everyone else did it.

  “What for? That looks like a pretty good rendering of a Celtic cross. Impressive. Especially when done with an RPK.”

  “Really?”

  “Oh yeah. Really. Couldn’t have done better myself. Although…mind you. I’ve never tried. Blades are my specialty.”

  They both slapped him at the same time, sending him one step forward with the blow. And that’s why the arrow aimed for him brushed his neck rather than stabbed into it. It was followed by a round of ammo. All aimed at him. Darryl hit the floor; the twins right behind him. They should’ve cracked cement with the force. A second later, he’d scrambled beneath the truck, protected by a tire. While Athelrod and Ethelstone shimmed into the space beneath the axle.

  “Let me guess,” Darryl said in his best deadpan voice. “You didn’t take out the guys in the cab.”

  “There were guys in the cab?”

  “There are always guys in the cab. Geez, Ethel. Somebody had to drive.”

  “Don’t blame me. You didn’t think of them either.”

  “Haestpeis”

  “Rasshol.”

  “Pokker.”

  “Guys. Guys. Stop. I’ve heard this part already. Blaming doesn’t do much except get people killed. And vampires. Action gets results. Anybody got a means to alert Reika? That would be helpful.”

  “You have the cell, Athel?”

  “Don’t call me that. It makes me sound like an asshole.”

  The other one snickered. Darryl rolled his eyes. A spray of bullets hit the ground near his elbow, making a perfect line about eight inches long. Flecks of concrete dust lifted with each hit. He knew why they targeted him. He wasn’t turned.

  “Then don’t call me Ethel. It makes me sound like a girl.”

  “For the love of—! Give it a rest, guys. You got a cell or not?” Darryl asked.

  One of them fished the slimmest phone Darryl had ever seen from somewhere in his inner jacket. He slid the cover up with a thumb. He handed it to Darryl.

  “What’s her number?”

  “Pre-coded. Just hit anything.”

  Another spray of bullets came at him, lining up exactly with the previous holes. He had to hand it to the Hunters. They were expert shots. And he was pinned down.

  The phone rang in his ear.

  “I kind-a feel sorry for them,” Ethelstone said.

  “No way. Why?” the other asked.

  “They haven’t seen Reika when she’s pissed.”

  “Oh. Right.”

  And then his Reika answered.

  CHAPTER ELEVEN

  Dead silence answered her. Then a spattering of firepower that matched the sounds coming through the tunnel.

  “Hello? Athelrod?”

  “Uh…hi. It’s me. Darryl.”

  Reika’s newly awakened heart swooped, and then swelled, the impact sending thrill after thrill through her. She had no idea just a voice could trigger such a response. Maybe none of the other assassins knew it, either.

  “You there, Darling?”

  Reika’s eyes misted over at what he called her. Her voice wasn’t going to work.

  “Shit. Reika!”

  A hissing sound filled the speaker following Darryl’s cry.

  “What happened?” she asked.

  “Tire just got hit. Deflated. These guys are good.”

  “Where are the twins?”

  “Flat on their bellies under the truck.”

  “They are?”

  “Don’t knock it. So am I. We’re taking fire.”

  “Why didn’t they wait for me?”

  “Long story. You in the tunnel?”

  “Yeah.”

  “Watch for them. We’ve got at least three. And one is one hell of a sharp-shooter. Ouch. You bastard!”

  “What?” Panic colored the word. She didn’t know t
hat happened, either.

  “Bullet graze. Right ear. Smarts, but nothing serious.”

  “Why didn’t they take out the lights before starting anything?”

  Dead silence answered her, interspersed with gunfire.

  “Darryl? Darryl!” Reika’s voice rose.

  “Oh. Sorry about that, Love. I was just taken aback.”

  “Wh…at?” The word was split in two, because of what he just called her. Another endearment, only this one had an even broader effect on her.

  “No wonder everyone’s in awe of you. Killing the lights. Damn. That’s so frickin’ brilliant. Why didn’t you think about that, guys? Never mind. I don’t need the argument. Have you heard these guys argue yet, Sweetheart?”

  Another endearment. Her throat was closing off.

  “I mean, honestly. Nobody wins, yet they still do it. Oh…shit!”

  “What?”

  “The Hunters split up. I’ve got two positions with incoming fire!”

  “Good bye, Darryl.”

  “What?”

  “EMP incoming.”

  “EMP? Honey, you are—.”

  His words ended. His phone went dead. Reika’s heart stopped. Literally. There was a lull of two beats before it started again. Please let Darryl be okay. Please…

  “Roger, stop.”

  Roger had met her at the airfield with this gray late model SUV. He was dark-haired. Pale-skinned. Lean. Disguised that with an old, military, drab-olive trench coat with lots of inner pockets. Appeared to handle most weapons with skill and dexterity. Had a working knowledge of most Slav languages and customs. And he impressed Akron with his electronic knowledge and skill. They’d recruited him from the Czech Underground, whoever they were. Roger was a great addition in the field, especially the old Soviet Bloc countries, and he obeyed orders instantly, without question. The moment she’d ordered it, he slammed on the brakes, killed the engine leaving the keys in the ignition. One hand slapped off the headlights while the other hit the Dead Man switch, cancelling battery activity. That way they’d still have vehicle power when they needed it.

  “We bring an Electro-Magnetic Pulse generator?” she asked.

  “Three of them.”

  He reached through the seat gap and yanked a box the size of an old video recording camera from his duffle bag before shoving out his door. Reika didn’t bother with hers. She skimmed out the window and hovered, waiting. Roger’s mouth opened. She’d forgotten. He was a newer member of the Vampire Assassin League.

  “Night goggles?” she asked when all he did was stare up at her.

  Another spate of gunfire came from beyond sight. Reika closed her eyes in thankfulness. That had to mean Darryl was alive still. Or they wouldn’t be shooting. She watched Roger do a quick check through his pockets, pull a pair of goggles from somewhere near his backside, and slip them over his head with one hand. The other still held the EMP generator.

  “You ready?” he asked.

  “I’m a vampire, Roger. I’m always ready.”

  “Oh. Right.”

  He grinned. The guy had really nice teeth, more befitting a Hollywood leading man than a mercenary trying to blend in. If he went underground he’d probably have to darken that smile with something.

  “On the count of five, then. Four. Three…”

  On three he clicked a switch on the missile. On one, he heaved it well down the tunnel in front of them. Toward the battle sounds. On zero, the box exploded, blasting the area with a quick flash of brilliant white, followed by a dark red, and then complete blackness as everything electrical checked out. Permanently.

  Reika swooped down and grabbed Roger’s collar and raced along the corridor. She’d have asked but she didn’t have time for niceties. Nor did she have time to wait for him to catch up. Other than a quick intake of breath, he didn’t react to being lifted and flown. Good recruit. Akron really knew how to pick them. She set him on his feet at the entrance to a cavernous space, probably used at one point for building something like the B-2 Bomber for the Third Reich. Rows of nothing but dust graced most the walls, although behind a wire enclosure she could see a good cache of weapons. Old school types. She didn’t check. She didn’t care. All she wanted was Darryl.

  She homed in on a bullet-ridden wreck of a truck almost dead center in the space, tilted due to the flat tires on the right side. Two dead Hunters lay sprawled on the concrete beneath the open back door. A quick glance inside revealed more dead bodies. Reika slammed the door with a vicious motion that took it off the hinges. The crash as it fell was loud, but before that happened she was on her hands and knees, looking beneath the vehicle.

  It was empty.

  “Darryl?”

  The whisper carried every bit of her worry and yearning, and something more: fright.

  “Right here, Love.”

  A moment later, she was in his arms, her legs wrapped about his hips, her lips slammed to his. Wonder opened up and washed over her. And the very next second she pulled from him and burst into tears.

  “Whoa. Reika. Love.”

  Darryl put his forehead against hers and tightened his hold, hugging her against bare skin. His voice soothed. Ripples of air from each whisper touched her earlobes. Wool scratched at her sides from his jacket. He didn’t even wear a shirt? With the effort she’d gone through over his wardrobe? The thought helped temper her wayward emotion. She sniffed.

  “Athelrod…will you look at that?”

  “What?”

  “Our Reika. Sobbing.”

  “I hear it’s a wonderful thing, Ethelstone.”

  “What is?”

  “The mating thing.”

  “Yeah. So they say. It will never happen to us. Right?”

  “Right.”

  “You even think of taking a mate and leaving me alone, and I’ll challenge you. Blood feud. Got it?”

  “Yeah. And right back at you.”

  “Aw. Aren’t they sweet, though?”

  Darryl lifted his head. “Guys. A little privacy, please?”

  “Privacy?”

  “For me and the lady. Now.”

  “Where do you want us to go?”

  “Go knock some Hunter heads together. You forgetting them?”

  “Oh. Yeah.”

  “No…need. I handled…two. Lost. One. Bastard. He got away.”

  Huffs of breath accompanied the words, announcing the arrival of Roger. Reika rubbed her face along Darryl’s collar. She’d never have believed such a reaction if it hadn’t just happened. And to her? Sweet Freya! She’d never acted so spontaneously or out of character. She should be embarrassed, yet she wouldn’t give up the feel of Darryl stroking her back for anything. She nuzzled her nose into his neck.

  “And just who are you?” One of the twins asked it.

  “Roger Stanislav. And you two have to be the Icelandic twins, no doubt.”

  “What makes you say that?”

  “Lucky guess,” Roger replied.

  Darryl chuckled, moving her. Reika tightened her hold on him. Fitted her breasts right against his pecs and hugged. Reveled. Gloried.

  “Guys?”

  The word rumbled through him, transferred into her, and started a vibration that just kept growing.

  “Yeah Darryl?”

  “Privacy. Now.”

  “Where do you want us to go? I mean…it’s not like we can’t see.”

  “Can you guys fly, too?” Roger asked.

  “Well, yeah. It’s a vampire thing.”

  “Cool.”

  “You want to join us? We could change you. You’d fly, too.”

  “Uh…how about I take a rain check?”

  “Gentlemen.”

  Darryl spoke again, this time using a voice that carried authority. She’d heard he’d been a Master Sergeant. Right now, he sounded it.

  “Sir.” Three voices answered in unison.

  “We have a vehicle, don’t we?”

  “New SUV. 3.0 liter, bi-turbo diesel. Really sweet ride,
” Roger answered.

  “Then go fetch it. All of you.”

  “I get to drive.”

  “No way, Ethel. You can’t drive your way out of a barn.”

  “Can, too. And don’t call me Ethel. I’m warning you.”

  “Just what are you going to do about it?”

  “Leg wrestle. Now. Or…when we reach the automobile. You! Roger. You any good at refereeing?”

  “Uh…”

  Sounds of a scuffle started. Reika giggled. Darryl’s arms tightened.

  “Man. I thought they’d never leave. I feel like I’ve been babysitting. Are they always like that?”

  She nodded. “More times than not.”

  “Figures. Listen. Um…we should probably search out the missing Hunter.”

  “He doesn’t matter.”

  “It might be the leader fellow…that Chester Beethan. You can’t let him get away.”

  “It still doesn’t matter. I don’t care. Darryl?”

  “Yeah?”

  Reika ran a thumb along his cheek. Met his eyes. Her heart lurched. It matched his. Exactly.

  “You called me some endearments earlier. On the phone.”

  He swallowed audibly. She heard it.

  “Oh. Yeah. Those.”

  “You want to elaborate?”

  He pulled in a large breath, moving her with it. And then he spoke, sounding a little wobbly.

  “We have to talk. About…this mating thing. Uh...”

  She stopped moving. Thinking. Everything. She wasn’t going to miss a word of this declaration for the world.

  “Yes?”

  Her lips trembled. The sensation moved to encompass her entire body as she waited. Tensed.

  “It’s forever, right? I mean, there’s no going back. Ever. Once you turn me…that’s it. Right?”

  Please, don’t let that sound like a no. Please…?

  She nodded. She didn’t dare try and speak. Not with the way this was headed. She was amazed her heart still beat. Painfully. Harshly.

  He blew a sigh, ruffling her bangs with it.

  “Well. Hell. You’ve got the best-run organization I’ve ever seen. I could be a recruit, too. Yes? I mean, I’m good with a blade; fair with everything else. And I’m not one for sitting around on my butt. Plus there’s that immortality stuff. I could do worse.”

  “Is that…all?”

  He grinned. Her heart dove.

  “No. That’s not all. I might as well ‘fess up. I’m in love with you, Reika. Totally. Completely. Figured it out the moment you answered the phone. Got it? I love you. I’m new to it, and it’s scary, but as long as you’re there, I’m in. Heck. Sounds pretty much like paradise.”

 

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