Authors: V. J. Devereaux
Cursing wasn’t enough. As the night grew later he grew rapidly weaker…and hungrier. Very hungry.
He wasn’t an animal, though, he was a man, a vampire, his hunger did not and would not rule him.
Julian kept reminding himself of that as the night wore on and both hunger and cold seemed to settle into his bones.
Watching from the Jag, Rafi saw a car drive into the motel parking lot. At this late hour there weren’t many visitors. She recognized the driver as Holbrooke from Barnes’s picture as he got out of the car and the streetlights hit him. He wasn’t alone, he’d brought a few bully boys with him. By the plain wooden crosses they wore, they were more members of Holbrooke’s church. Something about them said ex-military. Facing Julian and Nico, Holbrooke would have needed all the trained help he could get. Her plan was a gamble but she thought it would work. She hoped and prayed that it would, that she wasn’t condemning Julian and Nico to a terrible death.
Though a lot of vampire lore was myth, a stake through the heart would be fatal for anyone, even a normal human. Just the thought of it made her shudder.
Holbrooke and his people went into one of the rooms.
She gave a nod to Sasha and Barnes. Both shifted into wolf form and disappeared into the shadows around the motel. They could stay hidden much better that way, and their sight and hearing would be improved as well.
The sudden mental image of Holbrooke driving a thick wooden stake into Julian and Nico’s hearts and then cutting their heads off was maddening, terrifying. Had he already done it? It had been too dark to see if there had been blood on his hands. Was that why he was here?
If they had, they’d regret it. She’d dedicate herself to hunting Holbrooke and his people down like the madmen they were.
She banished the image, scrubbing her face with her own hands to clear it.
With an effort, she pulled herself together, got out of the car, leaving the keys behind for Barnes and Sasha as she strode across the parking lot to the hotel desk.
This was the first part of the gamble. She’d spent the previous day in their gated home, so unlike Julian and Nico Holbrooke hadn’t been able to get to her if he’d wanted her, too. If he didn’t the fact that she’d tracked him down to the motel would alarm him. He wouldn’t want any attention. With luck, if he didn’t kill her outright – which Sasha and Barnes wouldn’t allow - he’d take her to where Julian and Nico were, while Sasha and Barnes followed either in wolf form or in the Jag.
Rafi needed Holbrooke to take her to them but she wanted him to think it was his idea. A direct confrontation would make her seem more of a threat. Then she’d get nowhere. She’d have to be close, but not too close.
The door to the hotel lobby had a bell that hung over it. It jingled as she walked in. The clerk hurried out at the sound, his smile not reaching his eyes. An older man, his hair graying, he was worn down by life, his expression perpetually dissatisfied.
“Can I help you?” he said.
“Yes,” she said, “I’d like to talk to Mr. Holbrooke. I heard he’s staying here?”
“There’s no Holbrooke here,” he said. “You’ve come to the wrong place.”
It didn’t surprise her. The clerk who spoken to Barnes must have mentioned the call to Holbrooke. She almost hoped he had. She wanted Holbrooke worried but not panicked.
Shrugging a little, she said, “I just want to talk to him.”
The man’s eyes lit up at the fifty dollar bill she slid across the desk.
“You a cop?”
Gesturing at her clothes – jeans, a heavy hoodie from a local college and running shoes – she looked at him incredulously.
“Do I look like a cop?”
With those clothes and her height, she hardly looked intimidating.
“There might be a Holbrooke staying here,” he said, taking the fifty. “Let me go check the book.”
With luck, he was actually going to warn Holbrooke
Her breath came short as a dozen ghastly images raced through her head. Julian or Nico dead, with a stake driven into their chests, blood gushing like a bad B movie. It still horrified her.
The man came back, shaking his head sadly. “Sorry, can’t help you.”
It was the answer she’d expected. All she could do was hope he’d called Holbrooke.
Sighing dejectedly, she said, “Are you sure?”
Angrily, defensively, he said, “Yeah, I’m sure.”
With a shrug, she nodded, turned and walked out the door toward the Jag.
She never saw it coming, any more than Julian or Nico had, she realized as the pain hit.
The taser was an unpleasant shock, quite literally. She barely registered the sound before the jolt hit her. Every muscle in her body locked up, she couldn’t breathe, couldn’t move. Tumbling to the pavement, she shuddered helplessly. All she was grateful for was that when she fell there was no clatter from the gun and badge strapped between her breasts.
Holbrooke appeared in front of her as they tied her hands behind her and snatched a fistful of her hair to force her to look up at him. He wrenched her head to the side as his minions tugged at her wrists.
“Harlot,” he spat at her and then slapped her. “Both of them?”
Startled, she stared at him. How did he know?
Then it came to her and she closed her eyes on an intake of breath.
Although most wouldn’t know them for what they were, the scars on her wrists and throat were clear evidence of vampiric feeding to those who did.
His eyes narrowed speculatively as he considered her.
Slowly he nodded and smiled.
Rafi went cold at the sight of that thin smile.
“It’s a sign, brothers. Clearly, God has delivered us our proof. No innocents need die. If she wants to see her companions so much let us return her to them.”
Rafi didn’t like the sound of that, or the triumph in his voice. What had he done? What did he have planned?
“I’ll only be a moment, brothers,” Holbrooke said. “Make sure our guest doesn’t make too much noise.”
They dumped her into back of the SUV and threw a thin blanket over her to conceal her from view. She thought she caught the faint scent of Nico’s cologne in the folds but it might have been her imagination.
As the car bumped and jostled, she hoped and prayed that Sasha and Barnes didn’t lose them and her.
They drove to an old deserted industrial side of the city, an area that had fallen on hard times as the economy tanked, as she saw as when they hauled her from the trunk.
Abandoned, it was an eyesore, desolate and largely deserted except by the homeless.
Surrounded by rusting chain link fence, the walls of some of the buildings looked less than stable and either vandals or weather had shattered most of the windows.
Rafi knew it well.
Refuse and old bottles littered the corners between the buildings.
A glance at Holbrooke explained the delay. He’d taken the time to shave and change into clothing that appeared more ecclesiastical, including a white collar and cassock.
Holbrooke’s men hauled her out of the car, half-dragging, pushing and shoving her toward the entry to one of the buildings. Dozens of cars surrounded it, most American made, many old.
Once the building had been some kind of workspace, a factory or something, but she couldn’t imagine what.
Inside it had the sense and feel of a religious revival meeting. Dozens of people waited. An air of anticipation filled the cavernous space as they dragged her up onto a makeshift stage.
One look at those gathered there and a chill washed through her as dozens of eyes turned toward her, the expression on their faces both avid and cold as they noted that she was held by their own.
Even worse, in the center of the platform wasn’t a dais or pulpit, but something that looked like a large altar, complete with white and purple satin draped over it. Behind it was a table. A large mallet and two stakes waited there, one each for Julian and Nico…and a hacksaw.
Terror shot through her at the sight of them but there was no blood on any of them and none on the floor. A chest wound would have left a lot of blood.
Not yet.
Rafi closed her eyes in relief, trying to block out the horror of that thought.
Hung above the altar was a large screen TV. It flickered to life. On that TV, lit luridly by night vision cameras, were Julian and Nico. Alive. Relief turned her knees weak.
In the light of the cameras their eyes glowed greenish, making them appear inhuman. Both shifted restlessly. They’d been shackled to the walls. As she watched Julian fought the iron shackles while Nico leaned his head back against the wall, his eyes closed, twisting his wrists restively.
But they were alive.
Several of Holbrooke’s men disappeared through a doorway at the back of the makeshift stage, beneath where the offices of this building had once been. Some stairs ran up to those offices but the men went down to the storage cellars below the main floor. She couldn’t imagine what it was like down there, except what she could see.
“Gag her,” Holbrooke said. “We don’t want them to know who it is we give to them.”
“No,” she shouted at those assembled. “Don’t you know what they’re going to do? They’re going to kill them. How can you allow it? How can you do this?”
Stony faces turned to her as Holbrooke’s men thrust a gag into her mouth.
Where were Sasha and Barnes? Had they lost her? Were they even now calling for backup? Otherwise, they’d have a mob on their hands. A mob large enough to be difficult for even a cop, werewolves and vampires to handle.
Holbrooke looked out over the assembled throng as he ranted.
“She knows what they are. Vampires. The undead. She allows them to feed from her, to continue their perversion and to visit it on herself. Unnatural, as the Bible says. Some say they are preternatural, paranormal, a different form of humanity. They lie. The Bible tells us truly. We have the King of the vampires in our hands here. We will humble him. We will show the world what he truly is and then we will do what all righteous men should do in the face of the unnatural. We will kill them. And free our souls.”
Rafi looked up at the screen. At Julian. Even shackled and chained he had dignity, that strength. Although his suit was rumpled, he still fought, and he did look every inch a King.
And Nico? Another sacrifice?
The crowd rumbled and the eyes of those nearest her hardened.
Turning, Holbrooke looked at her. “Would you like to see your friends? You know what they are. Vampires. Did you think you knew them? Truly knew them? You’re about to find out.”
His febrile gaze met hers, eyes glittering in anticipation.
She went cold as fear and horror threaded through her. Something about his words chilled her even more.
“You won’t enjoy it. You see, we intend to show the world what they really are. To let the world know what it is to be vampire, to let the world see their true colors and so…” Holbrooke’s thin smile broadened, “we drained them. They are very, very hungry now, I’m sure.”
Drained?
Did he mean what she thought he meant?
“No,” she whispered.
What would that do to them? She’d seen them when they were hungry and called it starved. What would it be like if they truly were? If they’d been driven to complete starvation?
Fear shot through her, for them and for herself. She could only hope Sasha and Barnes hadn’t lost her. She hadn’t felt the SUV make any evasive maneuvers, but there was still traffic. It happened. Even if they hadn’t, against so many and a good number of them armed? What chance did they have?
“You’ll see,” Holbrooke shouted, and gestured. “Tonight you’ll all see.”
His men dragged her through a door that led down into the ancient cellars. Toward another door, this one new and made of iron. They opened it and thrust her inside, slamming the door shut behind her.
Stygian darkness surrounded her.
Rafi tried to clear her hair from her eyes, as if that would help her vision penetrate the darkness.