Betrayed (11 page)

Read Betrayed Online

Authors: D. B. Reynolds

Tags: #Fantasy

“Perfect timing,”
Sipes
said, swinging into step with Cyn as they went down the steps into the foyer and filed out through the daylight entrance. By design, the only door available during the day was too narrow for more than one adult at a time. It was cut into one of the steel shutters which rolled down automatically at sunrise to cover every door and window in the building, and required a ten digit security code to open.

“I went out there with
Juro
and the others earlier,”
Sipes
continued as they piled into the waiting SUV. “It was still dark, obviously, but he’s confident they located the place where the sniper holed up. I agree with him, especially now that I’ve seen the location in daylight.”

“You’ve already been out there this morning?” Cyn asked.

“Not yet. But
Juro’s
people left a marker, and I went up on the roof as soon as there was enough light to see by. I wanted to check the angle and line of sight to the deck outside your suite. And there’s no doubt the shot could have come from there.
Juro
said it’s the same place you suggested last night.”

Cyn nodded. “It was the only place that made sense. Either that or the shot came from a lot farther away.”

“And why take the longer shot if you don’t have to, right? I ranged it this morning. It’s right around seven hundred seventy-six yards, give or take a yard. A very doable shot, but this particular sniper doesn’t seem to have understood vamps all that well. Clearly, he didn’t count on Raphael’s speed in reacting, or, for that matter, his ability to hear the shot before a human could.
Pretty damn impressive, that.
But anyway, my point is, the shooter didn’t know what he was dealing with.”

“Exactly.”

By that time, they were down on the valley floor and Cyn could already see the orange marker
Juro’s
people had set up on the hillside to mark the sniper’s hiding place.

“That’s it?” she asked unnecessarily.

“Yeah.”
Sipes
tapped the driver on the shoulder. “We’ll park right over there,” he said, gesturing to an area just short of the promontory itself. “I want to see if I can spot the path he took to get up there. The vamps were pretty careful last night to stick to the rocks, but I doubt our sniper friend has their ability. And I’ll bet he was scrambling to get down quickly once he realized he’d missed, and Raphael’s security would be coming for him. That should make his route easier to locate, and, with luck, maybe we’ll find something he left behind.”

The tech—his name was Brian, and
Sipes
had assured her that he
could
shoot the gun on his hip once he got to it—led the way up the hillside. They’d found the sniper’s path easily. It was just above where he’d parked his truck, which had left clear tracks on the valley floor. Brian told them confidently that their sniper had indeed driven a
truck,
and a four-wheel drive at that, though Cyn had tuned out his explanation for how he knew that. All she cared about was that the dry air, and the absence of any significant breeze, had served them in good stead by preserving the tire tracks and the sniper’s footprints in almost pristine condition. The vamps, as
Sipes
confirmed, had actually climbed up the opposite side of the promontory, which was another bit of good fortune. It happened to be the most direct route, which was why the vamps had chosen it, its steepness being no obstacle for them.

Once they reached the sniper’s former hide, Cyn was forced to sit on a convenient boulder, waiting while the forensic tech did his thing. It was frustrating, but even she could see the wisdom of doing it that way. It was also boring as hell, and she found herself staring down the valley at the shuttered window of her and Raphael’s bedroom suite. The place she was sitting was slightly above the shooter’s position, but nearly aligned, giving her close to the same view up the valley that he would have had. They’d already identified the boulder he’d used to stabilize his rifle, revealed by small scrapes in the dirt from where he’d set up and also from the legs of the bipod. She tried to imagine the sniper leaning against the rock, Remington 700 leveled on its bipod attachment, the butt tucked into his shoulder and barrel pointing at the sliding glass door, waiting for Raphael to appear, to come and talk to
her
. She tried to imagine that fraction in time between when the shooter settled the crosshairs and when his finger started to squeeze. Had he wondered who this big man was he was about to murder? Had he even known Raphael was a vampire? Had he cared?

Probably not, she reasoned. She was being too emotional, attaching sentiment to what for the shooter was just another job. After all, he wasn’t the first contract killer in the world, and certainly wouldn’t be the last. But this particular killer had gone after the one person she loved more than any other person in the world, so she cut herself some slack. Not too much slack, however. She shifted her gaze, searching the perimeter of the small circle of boulders the sniper had chosen to hide in. It really was an ideal location, sheltered from casual observation on all sides. The brush all around and in between the boulders was torn up or crushed, evidence of the shooter’s presence, and also that he’d likely spent most of the day concealed here.
Sipes
theorized that he would have arrived before dawn the previous day. But that was based largely on the fact that
Sipes
didn’t want to believe anyone could have driven up the valley floor and climbed into the rocks toting that much gear without his people noticing. Cyn wasn’t so sure about that. In her experience, security people tended to focus on imminent threats, not some guy rock climbing nearly 800 yards in the distance.

She
was
convinced the shooter had hidden out here for at least several hours, though.
Which meant he had to have packed in supplies.
He could have gotten by on energy bars for food, but water was a necessity. Unfortunately, he seemed to have done an admirable job of cleaning up after himself, despite his hurried departure. The tech, Brian, glanced up at her as he lowered his camera. He’d been snapping close-ups of the location, shooting up the valley toward the house, and then crouching down to catch the hide itself, including extreme close-ups of the various marks left behind on the boulders.

“He missed,” Brian said, as he packed the camera in the metal case he’d brought with him, “but he was a pro. There’s plenty of evidence
someone
was here, but nothing so far to identify anyone specifically. I was hoping he’d gotten sloppy in the dark, but so far, nothing.”

Cyn’s
gaze sharpened as she glimpsed a flash of light on a dull surface.

“Brian,” she said, staring hard. “Is that what I think it is?” She pointed down the hill beyond the nest, on the side the vamps had come up in the dark last night.

He gave her a puzzled look,
then
turned slowly, following the line of her finger.


Ooooh
, baby,” he breathed after a while. “Come to Papa.”

* * * *

“It might be nothing,” Brian warned, as they drove back to the big house. “Lots of people have been on the hill before our guy. One of the vamps might simply have kicked up an old piece of trash.”

“Sure,” Cyn agreed readily. “But it might also be
something
. The shooter was stuck up there most of the day. He had to have packed a lot of water in with him. And if he left in a hurry, he might have kicked an empty bottle down the hill without noticing, especially in the dark.”

Brian made a face. “Don’t get your hopes up. He probably wore gloves. But even if that’s his bottle, and even if I can get a fingerprint, it won’t do me any good unless it’s on file somewhere we can access.”

“How long before we know?”

“As soon as I get back to the lab I’ll know if I have a workable print. But then I have to lift it off and send it through the various databases looking for a match. And we still don’t know this is even from our guy.”

Cyn nodded, but she didn’t believe him. This was from their shooter. She knew it in her gut.

“Okay, call me with anything as soon as you have it. We’re leaving at sunset.”

“Right.
I’m going with you, but don’t worry. The communication suites on Raphael’s jets are second to none. Even if an ID pops while we’re in the air, I’ll know about it. Assuming one does.”

“Yeah, yeah.”
What was it with scientists, anyway?
Always wanting proof.
Sheesh
.

She grinned at the thought and was still grinning as she punched in the security code that let her back into the vault where Raphael slept soundly. They had their potential assassin. And it was only a matter of time before they had him in chains where he belonged.

* * * *

Confirmation came in mid-air as they flew back to
California
. Cyn was half-dozing, a book on her lap and her head on Raphael’s shoulder. Between their early-morning trip out to the site and her excitement at what they’d found, she hadn’t gotten much sleep during the day, and she was looking forward to sleeping in her own bed later tonight.

Across the aisle, Jared sudden began speaking rapidly into his Bluetooth headset. He looked over at her,
then
shifted his gaze to Raphael in some sort of silent understanding. She frowned, glancing from one to the other of them, before her attention was snagged by the sight of
Juro
making his way up the aisle, his head bowed to avoid brushing it against the private jet’s ceiling.

“My lord,”
Juro
said, addressing Raphael, though he nodded to Cyn, as well. “We’ve identified the shooter.”

A jolt of adrenaline had Cyn feeling abruptly wide awake.
“A fingerprint?”

“Thumbprint,” he corrected, “but yes. His name is Luther Mars. He is former military as we suspected
,
 
but
the print ID came through from his arrest records in two separate states.”

“Did he do time?”

“Several years on the latest charge,
which was in
Illinois
, accessory before the fact to murder.
It was his first felony, and he cooperated for a lighter sentence. That was cut further by a parole release. He was apparently a model prisoner. The previous two convictions were minor offenses in
Minnesota
, plea bargained to time served and probation.”

“Where is he now?” she asked, squeezing Raphael’s hand.

“Unknown. He missed his last two dates with his parole officer, and there is currently a warrant out for his arrest.”

“That doesn’t help us much,” Jared commented. He’d risen from his seat and now stood next to
Juro
with a concerned scowl.

“It’ll get us more of an assist from the local
PDs
,” Cyn offered.

Juro
nodded. “I’ll make sure it’s circulated. In the meantime, my lord—”

“I’m not going to cower behind walls,
Juro
. Everything proceeds.”

Juro
glanced at Cyn and looked like he wanted to say something else, but ultimately he bowed to Raphael’s wishes with a nod.
“As you say, my lord.”

Cyn watched the big vampire make his way back to where Brian the tech was working enthusiastically on two separate computers, apparently not suffering at all from the sleep deprivation that had her feeling foggy-headed. Jared gave them a nod,
then
joined
Juro
in the back, where the two of them quickly sank deep into conversation.

Cyn observed a few minutes more, then turned and met Raphael’s shuttered gaze. “What’s up, Raphael? Something’s going on.”

He shrugged dismissively. “
Juro
would have me remain safe within the
Malibu
estate until this Luther Mars person is captured. I refuse to do so.”

“Why? What’s the hurry to get out? There are lots of nights when you do business from inside the estate and never leave. Why is this any different?”

“It’s a matter of principle, my Cyn. Luther Mars was hired by
Klemens
to kill me. Or rather
Klemens
ordered one of his vampires to hire him, but the fact remains . . .
Klemens
tried to assassinate me. I cannot permit him, or anyone else, to believe I am frightened of this assassin, or that
Klemens
has succeeded in forcing me to cower within the walls of my own home.”

Cyn studied him silently. He met her gaze, his black eyes as careful as they ever were, giving away nothing. Raphael was good at that, at keeping secrets. Even from her.

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