“So you’re telling me this thing killed Burton and Lanie’s father.” Dirk waited until they nodded before continuing on. “Then who was that I saw tonight, because it looked like Lance Burton to me.”
“It was.”
This was the part that Mac hated to explain. He was grateful when Lanie jumped in.
“El Chupacabra’s fangs are hollow, and it secretes venom into the prey when it bites them. The venom mixes with the blood and seems to have certain healing powers in humans.” She paused, and Mac knew she was about to drop the first shoe. “When El Chupacabra drinks so much blood that it kills a human, it has also injected enough venom into the human that they are able to come back to life a couple of days later.” She paused and then dropped the other shoe. “As vampires.”
Dirk gave a nervous laugh. “Yeah, right.” He glanced from one face to the other, no doubt waiting for someone to tell him it was a joke.
“I didn’t believe it either, at first,” Mac admitted.
“Yeah, but come on. Vampires?”
“You remember the security recording? That was Burton and Weber—after they were dead—biting those men and drinking their blood.”
“Vampires?” There was less laughter this time.
“And the men they killed rose a few days later as—”
“Vampires.” There was no humor now in Dirk’s tone, only skepticism.
“Didn’t you wonder why all those researchers’ bodies I asked you to burn had been staked through the heart, except for the one with its head blown off?”
Dirk glared at him. “I thought you were working through some anger issues. Didn’t seem like a good time to ask a lot of questions, if you know what I mean.” He heaved a sigh, ignoring the look Mac shot him. “Okay. Let’s say, for the sake of argument, that I buy into this vampire theory—that explains why Burton and Weber are vampires. What about Munoz?”
“You told me you found his shirt, ripped and bloodied,” Lanie said. “I think he must have found Burton and the chupacabra first.” She turned thoughtful. “I think the chupacabra killed him, not Burton.”
The two men stared at her and she quickly went on. “From what I’ve read, the creature that arises when a vampire kills a human is one step further removed from his humanity than the creature that results when a chupacabra kills a human. The vampire-created creature is, one assumes, less in control of his actions. Munoz seemed to know what he was doing at the reception hall. That’s why I think it was the chupacabra that killed him.”
It seemed logical to Mac, and his assessment of Lanie rose yet another notch.
“So what’s the story with you?” Dirk asked finally, staring pointedly at Mac.
He’d expected the question, but wasn’t sure how to respond. “The best theory we’ve”—he pointed to Lanie and himself—“been able to come up with is that when the chupacabra attacked me, it injected enough venom into my system that I was affected. The restorative powers helped me heal at a much faster rate.”
“But there have been other changes,” Dirk pressed.
“Yeah.”
“What are they? The teeth, obviously,” Dirk said, gazing at Mac closely. “I saw that back at the reception hall, and your eyes, they were glowing. What else?”
“I guess speed and strength,” Mac replied. “Although I don’t know how I compare to the vampires. We’ve yet to have a real showdown between us. Oh, and a sensitivity to light.”
“But you can go out during the day.” It was a statement, not a question. “I saw you at the airfield when you came by to make arrangements to have your plane brought over.”
“I can go outside,” Mac agreed, “but I’m definitely more tired during the day, and I have trouble functioning. At night, though, I’m full of energy.”
“What about Burton and Weber? Can they go out in the day, or will they torch up like in the movies?”
Dirk was looking at Mac, who turned to Lanie. She shook her head. “We don’t know the answer to that yet.”
“Vampires drink blood, don’t they?” Dirk continued. “I saw it on the tape. What about you?”
Mac exchanged a quick look with Lanie, who blushed and seemed to become preoccupied with studying the glass in her hand. He sighed as a fresh wave of guilt hit him. “I don’t know.”
Dirk stared at him, his eyes narrowing. “How safe are we”—he pointed to Lanie and himself—“in your presence?”
Mac fought his irritation because he’d already proved with Lanie that it was a valid question. “I don’t think you need to stake me just yet, but I trust you’ll know if the time comes.” He’d sounded sarcastic, but knew Dirk would take the statement literally.
Silence fell as they each became lost in private thoughts. When Mac finally glanced around, he noticed the glasses were empty. He knew he could use a refill because what he’d had so far wasn’t helping much. He climbed off the bed and grabbed the tequila bottle, refilling Dirk’s glass. When he crossed the room to offer some to Lanie, she shook her head.
“What about something else to drink?” he offered. “Water? Coffee?”
“No, thanks. I’m fine.”
He smiled. “Lanie, you can barely keep your eyes open. Why don’t you go to bed?”
She sat up straighter and scowled at him. “I’m fine, really.”
Mac decided not to push. Instead, he poured himself a drink and sat back down.
“Mac, what happened at the reception?” Lanie asked.
He stared at her, confused. Then he realized that she was referring to what had happened before Burton and Munoz had appeared. “It’s hard to explain. Suddenly I felt this tingling along my spine, a sense of foreboding. I don’t know. I can’t explain it.”
“But it was strong enough that you felt we needed to leave.”
He studied Lanie’s face, wondering what she was getting at. “Yes.”
She waved a hand dismissively. “I don’t know what it means. I just thought it was curious. There was something else I wondered about. Why did Burton stab Rogers?”
“Probably because Rogers is the one who came forward and got this whole inquiry going. Burton felt that Rogers betrayed him and wanted a little payback.”
Lanie shook her head. “I mean, why stab him? Why not bite him and drink his blood?”
“Not enough time,” Mac said.
“Okay,” Lanie said. “That makes sense. But what about those other men—the ones Uncle Charles mentioned?”
“You think Burton’s responsible for their disappearance?” Dirk asked.
“I’m wondering what these three men had in common—other than that they were all former unit members.”
Mac thought about it, thinking that he might know, finally, where she was headed. “When we were on that last assignment, they served on Burton’s team.”
“So they were loyal to Burton?” she asked.
Mac glanced at Dirk. “I guess you could say that.”
“Do you think they would have testified against Burton?”
“No,” Dirk said. “They wouldn’t have said anything, but I wouldn’t put it past Burton to kill a friend.”
“Exactly,” Lanie said, sounding much more awake and excited. “He’s not above killing his friends, but if he wanted them dead, he would have stabbed them—or shot them. With his training and background, I would imagine he could kill a man any number of ways—and leave the body to be found. But he didn’t do that.”
“What are you suggesting?” Mac asked.
“Okay, I know this sounds far-fetched, but I think Burton killed his friends or, rather, had the chupacabra kill them, because he wanted to convert them into vampires, just as he had converted Munoz.”
Mac met her gaze, but his mind raced ahead. There was no point in asking why Burton would do something like that because he already knew. Burton was creating his own vampire special-ops team—a group of highly trained, lethally dangerous former soldiers who would be exceptionally hard to kill, because they were already dead.
; Chapter 11
Lanie could tell by the expressions on the men’s faces that they’d come to the same conclusion she had. Burton was creating his own special-ops vampire team, and there was no telling what terror and destruction such a group could inflict. Someone had to stop them, and Lanie had a sinking feeling she knew who would volunteer for the job.
“We’ll have to get to Burton before he has a chance to make his next move,” Mac said to Dirk, proving Lanie right. With their SEAL background, she knew they thought they could take on any threat. Maybe they could.
“You think he’s finished building his team?” Dirk asked.
“I don’t know,” Mac admitted. “He’s got four now, but there’s no guarantee his three latest recruits will join him. If it was me, I’d want to up my odds, give myself more of a selection. How many from the original team are still in town—or live close by?”
Dirk thought for a minute. “Four—Perkins, Smith, Couch, and Harris.”
Mac rubbed his face as if he was tired, and Lanie supposed with sunrise not far off, he probably was. He wasn’t the only one, she realized as a yawn stole over her.
“I don’t think Couch and Perkins are the type of men Burton wants,” Mac said. “Their loyalty was to the team, not to Burton specifically. Smith and Harris are probably better candidates.”
Lanie saw Dirk nod in agreement while Mac glanced at his watch.
“I doubt Burton will try anything more tonight—it’s almost dawn. So far, I’ve never seen them out during the day. They got more of the chupacabra venom than I did. If the sun doesn’t destroy them, it probably makes them so lethargic that they can’t function. We’ll start tomorrow.”
“What about Uncle Charles?” Lanie asked. “Shouldn’t we tell him what’s going on?”
Mac shook his head. “I think it would be better, for now, if we tried to handle this ourselves.”
“I agree,” Dirk said. “I’ll get the addresses of where Smith and Harris are staying. After that, it’s just a matter of waiting for Burton to appear.”
Mac nodded, but Lanie was confused. “How do you know which man he’ll go after?”
“We don’t,” Dirk replied. “So we’re going to split up and watch both places.”
“Watch? Aren’t you going to call and warn these guys?”
Mac and Dirk exchanged looks, and she knew she wasn’t going to like the answer.
“If we warn them, then they might say or do something to cause Burton to change his plans. If we don’t stop him soon, he could do a lot more damage than killing one or two people,” Mac explained.
“Besides, our plan is to get to them before Burton attacks,” Dirk added.
“With each of you going to a different man’s house?” Lanie couldn’t believe they were going to try to take on Burton and the chupacabra alone. She looked to Mac for confirmation and he nodded.
“What are you going to do?” she went on sarcastically. “Sit outside their hotel rooms on the chance that Burton and the creature will show up and then run in with guns blazing?”
“Exactly—guns, plural,” Mac replied. “And if you mean by blazing—a focused assault designed to terminate with extreme prejudice—then yes.”
Dirk laughed. “Sounds good to me.”
They exasperated her because they sounded like boys eager for their first hunting trip. “Well, I’m going with you.”
The laughter stopped as both men turned to stare at her, twin patronizing expressions on their faces.
“I’m serious,” she added defiantly.
“You’re going home,” Mac said in a flat tone.
“No, I’m not—and you can’t make me.” Now who sounded like a child?
“Lanie, I really think Mac’s right. You should go home. Things are going to get a lot worse,” Dirk said.
“I don’t care. My father is here in this city, and I’m not going back to Houston until I find him.”
“We don’t need to worry about you while we’re hunting for Burton,” Dirk insisted.
Lanie turned to Mac and let him see the determination in her eyes. After a moment he heaved a labored sigh, although a wry smile touched his lips. “Okay.”
“Okay?” Dirk pinned Mac with a hard stare.
“Yeah. She’s right, we can’t make her go back, and I’d rather know where she is than have her running around town behind our backs.”
“She’s going to be a distraction—one that could be costly,” Dirk argued.
“Hello? She is still in the room. Would you mind not talking about me as if I’m not sitting right here?” She received silent, reproachful looks from the men, which only frustrated her further. “So what’s our next move?”
Dirk rolled his eyes and stood up. “I’m outta here.” He set his empty glass on the bedside table beside Mac, leaning close so he could mutter in Mac’s ear. “She needs to stay behind.”
“We’ll talk about it tomorrow,” Mac replied.
Dirk nodded and walked out of the room.
After the door closed, Lanie became acutely aware that she and Mac were alone. When she looked at him, she found him watching her with a heated look in his eyes that was so intense, she was reminded of the near-vampire creature he’d become when he’d faced Burton and Munoz earlier that night. That man had fought to protect her, a small voice in her head whispered. Did she really have anything to be afraid of now?
She didn’t know—and what was worse, while a part of her wanted to run to the safety of her room and hide, another part wanted to play with fire.
“Go to bed, Lanie.” His voice sounded huskier than normal.
She nodded, unfolding her legs to stand. She set her empty glass on the desk and headed for her room. “Good night, Mac,” she said when she paused at the connecting doorway. “Thank you for tonight.” She wasn’t sure what she was thanking him for exactly—taking her to the reception, saving her from the vampires—or maybe something else altogether.
He merely nodded, though his eyes watched her closely.
She went into her room and closed the door, mentally kicking herself for playing it safe. Then she realized that she still wore his jacket and needed his help with the dress. Fate, it seemed, had made the decision for her.
She reopened the connecting door and stepped through, finding Mac with a freshly poured glass of tequila, standing by the desk. When he saw her, he paused with the glass held suspended halfway to his mouth and his eyes widened briefly in surprise.
“I forgot to give you back your jacket,” she quickly explained.
He schooled his expression and gestured to the bed. “Leave it there.”
She took it off and laid it on the bed, enjoying the way his gaze played over her. “I also need your help.” She walked toward him in slow, easy steps, stopping just in front of him. She turned so her back was to him, and gestured vaguely with her hand. “I can’t reach the fastening—would you mind?”
He didn’t say anything, and it seemed she stood there a long time before she finally felt the back of his hand brush against her skin. It wasn’t an accidental touch. It was a purposeful caress down the length of her back, and it sent tiny shivers through her entire body. She couldn’t stop the sigh that escaped her.
She heard his quick intake of breath and then his fingers worked the fastener and disposed of it quickly, but when he might have dropped his hands, he didn’t. Instead, his palms grazed her skin as he ran his hands across her back and up beneath the straps of her dress, easing them off her shoulders. Without the beaded strand to hold it in place, the entire dress slid down to puddle at her feet. She felt the warmth of Mac’s mouth as he pressed it to the curve of her neck. With one hand holding her shoulder as if she might try to escape, his other slipped around to cup her breast, testing the weight of it in his palm.
His thumb flicked across her nipple, provoking another sigh, and she let her head fall back against his chest, closing her eyes so she could focus on the feel of his touch.
“I tried so h
ard to let you walk away,” he whispered against her ear, his warm breath teasing the hypersensitive skin of her neck. “You shouldn’t have come back in.”
Before she could respond, he turned her around and pulled her to him, one arm supporting her back as he buried the fingers of his other hand deep in her hair. Slowly, he brought her head closer to his until their lips touched. The kiss started out slow and easy, but quickly grew to a fevered intensity. Mac kissed her with quiet desperation—and that was how she responded. Everything faded from her perception except for this single moment in time, and she clung to him as if her very life depended on it.
The sharp stab of pain on her lip startled her, and she tasted a familiar coppery liquid on her tongue that brought reality crashing down with a harshness that left her shaken.
She’d cut herself on his fangs and knew that he’d also tasted the blood. For a minute they froze with mouths tightly pressed together. Then Mac pulled back and when Lanie opened her eyes, she saw the look of regret and horror on his face.
“Go to your room, Lanie.” He stepped away from her and turned around. The anguish in his voice almost broke her heart and she reached out a hand, wanting to soothe him, assure him that she wasn’t hurt. The moment she touched him, he whipped back to face her, his eyes glowing red and his lips thinned to reveal his fangs, a drop of her blood still clinging to the tip of one.
Frightened, she stumbled back, almost tripping over her gown pooled around her ankles, unaware of her nudity as her entire attention focused on the creature before her. How much humanity had he lost?
Seeing her reaction, Mac cursed under his breath, the words sounding more like a hiss. Then, moving with inhuman speed, he rushed past her and Lanie was left alone, watching the door to the room slowly close.
Elsewhere in the city, Lance Burton paced the length of the basement, occasionally pausing long enough to slam his fist into the wall. Already, several holes marred the surface, but no one would care. The building they’d found to stay in had been condemned years ago. No one came there now, not even the homeless.
“Damn it, I should have killed him,” Lance swore. “Straight off when I had the chance.”
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