Authors: Mary Hughes
He shot me a small, warm smile. “Almost.”
Then he spun, sweeping the floor with his own triage scrutiny as I levered myself to my feet. His people, near the windows, were starting to move, none bent in pain or injury although the floor was cluttered with moaning black-clad men.
Ric’s expression changed to grim satisfaction. “Aiden. Your timing is impeccable, as always.”
He addressed the shadowman, who held a subdued Ogre Face by the scruff of the neck. Ogre Face’s gun was tucked under the shadowman’s arm, and two goons’ rifles were slung over his shoulders, crisscross like a pair of bandoleers. Despite the violence and being armed to the teeth, he looked slightly bored, cool. Well, except for the bits of smoke still rising from him.
His black eyes went to Ric’s chest, where the flower had spread to more of a lake. “You need to get that hole patched.”
“He’s right,” I said. “I have my kit in the car—”
“What I need,” Ric said viciously, “is to make sure this never happens again.”
Aiden started, “Our plan—”
“Fuck the plan,” Ric said. “I want this over now. We need a bigger gun against Nosferatu. We need to get the item.”
Ogre Face’s head swiveled to Ric, ears practically quivering.
Aiden’s black brows rose. “Is that such a good idea?”
“It’s the only idea.” Ric slashed the air. “We screwed up, not foreseeing this.”
“We can’t plan for every eventuality—”
“I don’t care. I won’t have Synnove or any of my people threatened again.”
Aiden raised a palm. “It’s your call.”
“Damn right it is. John!” He waved a man over. “Cancel my appointments for today and tomorrow. Make sure the VPs know.”
“What are you doing?” I asked.
In two strides Ric was hugging me. Abruptly he released me and stepped away. “I’m going out of town. Stay with your cousin. Do not come here.”
“Why? Where are you going?”
“To make sure you’re never attacked again.”
That evening Ric glided, vampire-fast, along the dark Wisconsin country road. He moved in absolute silence, a creature of the night and one with it.
As good as he was, the merest shadow glided next to him, indiscernible to the human eye. Ric was one of the best, but Aiden was beyond even that. Normally Ric would have enjoyed flexing his abilities with his best friend.
He missed Synnove.
Which was sharply unexpected. Since his parents’ death, he’d gone it strictly alone, accepting even Aiden’s help reluctantly and only when absolutely needed.
Yet when they’d needed to distract the guards from Aiden, she’d simply done it. Ric knew if any of his people were injured, she’d help.
How had he come to rely on her—to lean on her—so quickly?
As he had another young, beloved human female.
Damn. He shoved the thought away.
Before he left, Synnove insisted on attending to his wound. The bullet had already pushed out of his body, the crater almost completely healed. She’d been amazed and, unless he missed his guess, intrigued. That was his Dr. Sunshine.
He really missed her.
“Thinking about Beautiful?” Aiden said over the wind they stirred.
Ric raised a brow. “You sure you’re not omniscient?”
“Please. Your face gives you away. You look like a big dreamy goof.”
“And you look like an asshole in need of a wasabi suppository. Did we have to park so far away?” Five hours to drive here; at nearly two in the morning, he chafed to get back to Synnove. “July nights are short. We have little time as it is.”
“We had to make absolutely sure Nosferatu’s henchvamps hadn’t followed us. Or even Nosferatu himself.” Aiden slowed to a human walk in front of a round building. He stopped out of range of the night lights near a sign announcing, “The Cave of the Mounds”.
Ric stopped beside him. “What’s wrong?”
Voice barely above the summer breeze, Aiden said, “I’m still not sure.”
“How could he have followed? No one was driving behind us. No one loped alongside us here.” Ric raised his head and tested the air. “I detect no scent.”
“He could be downwind.” Aiden’s nostrils flared. “He’s old, Ric. And even though he looks like a mummified weasel, he’s sly. He can shape shift.”
Ric scowled. “That’s a vampire legend.”
“No. I was in Iowa recently and saw…or perhaps was
allowed
to see…things that made me revise my opinion of what’s fact and what’s fantasy.”
“Okay, Nosferatu can shape shift. No wolves following us either.”
“You ass.” Aiden dropped his hunting animal routine to give Ric a disgusted glare. “You’re being deliberately obtuse. What about birds? Insects?” He waved his arm around, a gesture of unbridled passion for him. “You’re sure all these creatures are natural? Absolutely positive that none of them are the same owls or crickets or nighthawks that were hooting or chirping in Minnesota?”
Ric rolled his eyes. “Nosferatu‘s no nighthawk. Maybe a goatsucker.”
“A nighthawk is a goatsucker, you turd.” The ghost of a smile played across Aiden’s lips. “But you knew that.”
Ric smiled slightly in return. It didn’t count toward the tally, but even a partial smile was a win tonight. “What choice do we have? We need to make Nosferatu back off. Which means having the leverage in hand.”
“I still say it’s premature.” Aiden eyed Ric coolly. “We’ve been courting Nosferatu’s attack for two years, with a solid plan. The leverage was our emergency backup. Now he attacks, according to plan, yet instead of following protocol you leap directly to the emergency backup. Why?”
“You know why.” Because even now Ric’s heart thudded when he thought of how close it had come. If he hadn’t shielded Synnove, if that bullet had pierced her human body… “Because the plan didn’t work. Camille got in. That immune human got in with his goons. We had the place fortified against normal vampires and humans. But Nosferatu’s hitting us faster and harder than we ever imagined, with agents who are battle-ready, trained and ruthless. We’re off script. That’s why we’re going after the insurance.”
“And that’s your only reason, hmm?” Aiden was silent for a beat. “Nosferatu’s looking for her again. He’s got people searching all over.”
They weren’t talking about Synnove now. Ric’s brows rose. “He’s revealed her existence to others?”
“No, not that way. She’s too vulnerable.” The black-haired vampire was still looking off into the night. “He’s only asking humans to look for a female, with a vague description.”
Ric snorted. “Good luck with that.”
“And your heartbeat has slowed.”
This time Ric didn’t follow the shift in conversation. “So?”
“So your problem isn’t Nosferatu, or even Nosferatu plus a vulnerable woman. Know what I think? I think your problem is medical.”
“Fuck.” The first change of subject had been a trap. Proving yet again that Nosferatu’s goons weren’t the only ruthless, sly, battle-hardened warriors around, or even the best.
Ric met his friend’s eyes and finally let Aiden see the fear he’d barely admitted to himself. “That muscle-bound ass wasn’t holding Synnove accidentally. Nosferatu’s gang asked for her by name. They were holding her as hostage against my good behavior.”
“Ah.” The black eyes shifted away, staring into the distance. When they returned to Ric, they were burning. “All right then. Let’s get this done.”
Ric’s smile was fierce. Here was another reason why he rarely asked for Aiden’s help. He rarely had to. Aiden gave him what he needed without asking. Like Synnove.
Partners, both of them.
The chime of memory. Again he shoved it away. He only had one partner, the vampire beside him.
Aiden paced off an exact number of steps onto privately owned land. At a certain location, they dissolved into mist, the vampire ability that came at a hundred years dead, and dropped together through the earth.
They materialized in a small cavern about thirty-five yards below the surface. Although researchers had completely explored the Cave of the Mounds itself, the nearby sinkholes on private land had not been investigated thoroughly. Small, unknown caverns often existed adjacent to known caves. This was one.
“Damn, it’s dark.” Aiden’s eyes glowed in the blackness. “I keep forgetting what real dark is like.”
“I keep forgetting how weird our eyes get.” Living as a civilized human for so long, Ric found Aiden’s red charcoal eyes a bit unnerving, though his own would be as eerily luminous. In the complete absence of light, their vampire eyes made their own, bioluminescent, like fireflies and deep ocean fish.
“And I keep forgetting what
he
looks like.” Aiden pointed.
A headless body rested on a translucent plastic bier in the middle of the cavern. The still figure’s arms were folded over its chest, a mockery of peace, since the hands inadequately covered a gaping hole where the heart used to be.
Ric shuddered. “Stuff a heart in him, and he’s fine. That’s scary.”
“Or wait a century and he’ll grow a new one. But he’s not touching earth, so he can’t suck energy and rise. I still can’t believe that’s really
the
Dracula.” A growl roughened Aiden’s voice.
“He is.” Ric consciously suppressed his own growl. “I researched him when we decided to move the item here. That is pure vampire. Even the brain. Especially the brain. That’s why he’s the only vamp who doesn’t die if you destroy the head.”
“No humanity at all? Nasty.”
“Pure vampire instinct. Monstrous,” Ric agreed.
“So why not burn him? Get rid of him permanently.”
“There’s a legend that it would unloose pure evil on the world, but it’s probably hokum. Still, the Ancient One must have some reason not to.”
“Makes this the perfect hiding place from Nosferatu though.” Aiden walked slowly around the small cave. “Since the Ancient One has secured the area.”
The Cave of the Mounds, undiscovered by humans until 1939, along with its nearby hidden caverns, had been in use by vampires for at least fifty years previous. Or rather, one specific vampire, who’d originally captured and incarcerated Dracula. The Ancient One living in Iowa, Nosferatu’s mortal enemy, Kai Elias.
“How is dear Kai?” Ric asked. “I assume that’s why you were in Iowa.”
“Enigmatic as always. I still haven’t gotten a good look at him.”
Which, for Aiden, was saying something.
As Nosferatu’s enemy, it would have made sense for Ric and Aiden to seek Elias out decades ago, when they’d first run. After all, the enemy of an enemy is supposedly a friend. As mere boys, they certainly could have used the help. But they hadn’t even known about Elias’s existence until several years into hiding and Nosferatu’s training made them mistrustful, Aiden even more than Ric. They’d hidden from everyone, including Elias.
Later, they’d grown to enjoy the independence. The freedom. No master, no factions. Didn’t mean they didn’t know about the ancient vampire and his deadly reputation.
“I, for one, was grateful when the Alliance set this place up,” Aiden said. “Sure beats having to move the item every six months.”
“No one’s here. You can call the painting what it is.” Ric tore his eyes away from the headless body. “Are you certain the Ancient One doesn’t know we’ve invaded his hiding place?”
“Elias?” Aiden snorted. “I’m sure he
does
know. He’s got techie gurus up the ass.” He looked around at the cavern walls. “Elias probably has real time ears and eyes on this place by now.” He waved at a particularly knobby stalagmite.
“Fuck,” Ric sputtered. “He’ll have stolen it!”
“Chill. For all his vaunted omniscience, Elias keeps his nose out of other people’s affairs. He won’t have touched the painting unless he had good reason.”
“Well, he’d better not have,” Ric said grimly. “Or we’re as good as dead.”
“We could bluff.”
“We tried bluffing and barely got away with our asses intact.”
“Fine. Get it then.”
Ric examined the cavern ceiling to find the guide stalactite while Aiden got the shovel they’d left here. The stalactite pointed to an area choked with debris. Ric grabbed the shovel from Aiden and dug. His heart beat faster than the simple exertion demanded. When he and Aiden buried the crate, their lives were on the line. Now so much more was at stake. More than even the lives of his household. If Elias had taken it… To Ric’s relief, he hit something solid. “It’s still here.”
“Pull it out and let’s get out of here. I have a bad feeling.”
“Shit. Now?” Ric shoveled faster, heart beginning to pound. He wished he knew what caused Aiden’s bad feelings, sensing a change in air pressure or smelling the faintest of scents or even simple intuition. Then he’d know from which direction danger was coming. A scritch-scritch made him whirl. Nothing was there. He shrugged it off as nerves and returned to digging. The crate was big enough that it took a long time, too long. He was sweating cold buckets by the time he finally freed the crate and lifted it from the cave floor, debris trickling like pellets. “Got it. Let’s go.”
Aiden didn’t move. “Check that the picture’s still inside.”