Chapter 9
Chapter Nine
P arker
They let us see them coming. They can move so swiftly, we would’ve never known they were there if they didn’t show themselves.
It doesn’t matter. As soon as I realized we were being hunted, the hunt was over.
Sadistic leeches. They’re like cats. They like to play with their food.
Now my head’s splitting, and my rear feels bruised. They used some sort of knock out drug on us. I sit up and bang my head on the cage bars overhead. A whimper escapes my mouth–my animal is freaking out. I put a hand up automatically, grabbing the bar, and the metal burns my hand.
“Shit!”
“Parker?” comes Allison’s quavering voice.
“Over here,” I groan.
“Are you okay?”
“Yes? Other than being knocked out and waking up in a silver cage.” Silver means whoever grabbed us was planning to cage shifters. I peer into the gloom. Dust motes float on the air, and the space smells of hay. We’re in the long, low barn. Allison sits in another cage, her skirt fluttering as she shifts to face me. “Where’s Laurie?”
“He’s here. With me.” She leans back, and I see Laurie’s stretched out form. His head’s in her lap, and his legs are so long, they stick through the bars. Luckily, the bars are wide enough, his bare calves don’t touch the silver.
Laurie’s still out cold, but probably not from any drug. Flying us took it out of him. And good thing. His owl would be freaked by all this.
“What’s happening?” Allison asks.
“The leeches got us.” I test another bar and singe my fingertips again.
“Why do they want us?”
“I have no idea.” My animal is cringing. We’re back in cages with the silver burning us. Next will be the lab smelling of harsh chemicals that sting our nose. And then the bright lights, the silver shackles, the scalpels….
I realize my animal is whining and clamp my mouth shut.
“Do you think Declan and Fiona–”
“Shhh,” I caution, pointing to outside the barn. “They might be listening.” The vampires might not know about Declan and Fiona, and I don’t want to alert our captors to their existence.
The barn door creaks open, and a cold wind sweeps over us. Something moves in the shadows, and I slam my back against the far side of the cage. My heart jerks in my chest, and I grit my teeth to keep from screaming.
The vampire is a lean, gaunt-cheeked man of about my height. He’s wearing a 1970s style suit of brown suede. Bell bottoms and all. “They're awake,” he says, and the barn door swings open wider. A second vampire joins the first. This one’s wearing an old-fashioned dressing gown with lace at his throat. “Excellent.” He leans down to study me. “I knew he’d send you. My plan is working perfectly.”
A horrible sound echoes around the barn, unhinging my spine. The vampire just laughed.
“Why, Charles, is that your evil laugh?” the vampire who looks like an extra for Saturday Night Fever asks.
“It is.” The vampire dressed like a Victorian dandy, Charles, sounding delighted. “Do you like it, Jenkins? I’ve been practicing.”
“Oh yes, very nice.”
What the fuck?
“What do you want with us?” Allison asks bravely. I want to squeak and tell her not to say anything, but I can’t move my jaw. Or any of my muscles.
“We’ve been hunting you since you left Tucson,” says Jenkins. “It’s about time you left King Louis’ protection.”
“King Louis?” Allison repeats. “Do you mean Mr. F? The Vampire King?”
“Yes,” the vampires hiss in unison.
Allison glances at me, and I can see her wondering what the vampires mean by “his protection.” I loosen my neck enough to give her a wild shake of my head.
“It makes sense that he would keep you close,” The vampire named Jenkins muses. “Seeing as you’re the key to his downfall.”
“Downfall?” Allison asks. “Me?”
“Not you.” Charles points at me. “Him.”
I cringe back, but I can’t shrink into a smaller ball than I already am.
“And the owl. We’re just missing the Irishman, but I expect to collect him shortly. Then we’ll have assembled the entire crack team.”
Crack team?
The vampires swivel to stare at me with their flat, dead eyes, and I realize I blurted my thoughts out loud. My shoulder blades try to worm their way through the bars, but there’s nowhere to go.
“Yes,” Jenkins says. “The crack team of highly trained operatives.”
There’s a long pause, where the vampires cackle with glee, and I’m too confused to be terrified.
“Excuse me,” Allison says with a little wave. “I must not have heard you correctly. Did you say ‘crack team of highly trained operatives’?”
“Yes.” Jenkins frowns.
“And you were referring to… Parker, Declan and Laurie? I’m just trying to be sure. No offense, Parker.”
“None taken,” I mouth to her.
“Yes. You can’t fool us. We know your total ineptitude is only an act.” Charles waves at us both. “It’s quite genius, actually. You behave like complete fools, but when your kill mode is activated, you will be lean, mean hunting machines.”
“Kill mode,” Allison repeats, her head tipped to the side.
“Yes. It’s all here,” Charles holds up a sheaf of papers, a white stack of printouts as thick as my wrist. Another evil laugh, longer and more echo-y than the last.
“Can I read that?” Allison asks. The two vampires look at each other, shrug, and hand her the stack. Her brow furrows as she studies the top page.
The vampires grow unnaturally still. I listen hard and hear the distant rumble of a car engine.
“Someone’s coming. Probably the Irishman. Jenkins, would you be so kind?”
“Of course.” Jenkins nods his head and blurs away.
“The time is nigh,”Charles says. “We’ve waited for this chance for months, and now it’s finally time.”
“Wait,” Allison calls. “What do you want with them?”
“They’re going to help us kill Lucius Frangelico.”
Declan
We’re back to the vampire deer site at little after six, driving through the dark field with our headlights bouncing as we nose over the grass.
With Fiona by my side, we nabbed a decent ride in record time. I’ve never seen anyone hotwire a truck so quickly. We also made note of the address, so we could send money to cover our theft. I don’t have the money, but King Lucius will be good for it.
I can barely think with Fiona riding in the front seat, her heavy black shoes propped on the dash. The cab is full of the mouth-watering scent of a lovely quarter pounder with cheese and a side of onion rings. Considering we didn’t have time to stop for dinner, the scent is all hers.
Maybe I should have her for dinner.
“Declan? You okay?”
“Um, yes.” I wipe my mouth, checking for drool. “Why?”
“Your animal’s been rumbling for this past mile.”
“Ah.” I don’t bother checking in with him. My wolf hound is in lust. “Ignore him. I always do.”
“You shouldn’t ignore your animal.” She sniffs the air. “He’s some sort of dog, right?”
“Irish Wolfhound.” Mostly. Data X did their best to tamper with our animals.
“Of course.” She settles deeper into the chair, cradling her shotgun close. “You smell so good. Like whiskey and fir trees.”
Her admission makes me brave. “I don’t know how you always smell like a wonderful fry up, but you do. Drives me wild.”
She cackles. “Dumpster diving. It’s my animal’s favorite.”
“And your animal is…?” I ask but she’s sitting up straight and flinging out a hand to stall me.
“Shh. What’s that?”
I scan the dark landscape but see nothing. To the left of us lies the metal barn in the corner of the fenced area, and on the right, the herd of deer on the far side of the field. “What is it? What do you see?”
Behind us a coyote howls. Then another and another. It sends chills down my arms.
“Something’s wrong,” Fiona barely whispers. “Do you smell that?”
I roll down my window and stick my head into the night air. “No…”
Fiona opens her door. “Wait here.”
“Wait, lass, no–”
But she’s already gone. I put the truck in park and cut the engine. I open my door to hop out when the scent hits me: a dank smell–like mold and an open drain–and mothballs.
Then a shadow blurs up to me and snatches me out of the cab.