Authors: D. B. Reynolds
Pushkin's compound couldn't compare to Raphael's expansive estate. It was one of two properties at the end of a twisty, narrow street in the hills above Santa Barbara. The first was a sprawling hacienda-style residence with sandy beige walls and a red-tiled roof. It was surrounded by an eight foot masonry wall and had a single wide entrance gate. A lone, bored-looking human guard stood just inside a flimsy booth, seeming more interested in what Judge Judy had to say on the small television screen than on anything Cyn might be doing. Not that he would have noticed anyway. She was a hundred yards distant, at the edge of a property slightly higher than the vampire's, with a perfect view of the entire compound.
Other than the guard, there wasn't any movement in or near the house. Heavy drapes covered all the windows she could see, but Pushkin seemed to lack either the resources or the desire to maintain a substantial human guard presence for daytime. She considered this, thinking it was unlikely the Santa Barbara vamp had the kind of underground facilities that the Malibu estate did. This house was old, not something he'd had built for his own use, and the houses around here didn't have basements. Pushkin himself probably had some sort of windowless, inner sanctum where he slept out his daytime hours. But it looked as if some of his vamp followers spent their days dead to the world with nothing but a piece of heavy cloth between them and instant immolation. Cyn imagined Albin's white skin burning to a crispy black beneath sun's heat and smiled grimly.
Movement below drew her eye. She raised a pair of high-powered binoculars and watched as a lone, middle-aged woman hurried out of the main house, drawing on a sweater against the cool air. It had rained during the night; the ground was still wet and the air carried a distinct damp chill. The woman exchanged words with the gate guard, friendly words it seemed, since they both smiled and Cyn could hear the man's bark of laughter as he opened the gate enough for the woman to pass through.
Once outside, she turned left, walking with a purpose, not like someone out for a stroll. Pushkin's residential lot was big enough that it was a brisk ten minute walk before she came to the other property, which was around a curve and wedged deep into the dead-end. A thick stand of eucalyptus, wild oleander and scrub brush covered the space between the two houses and took her out of the guard's sight long before she reached the second estate. It was a faded white house in the same adobe style, but it appeared almost abandoned, with trees and vines overgrowing the yard and creeping over the pale wall. From Cyn's vantage, she could barely see the ground floor. From the street, a passerby would see nothing at all.
The woman entered a code on the remote keypad, letting herself in through a narrow pedestrian door set into the solid metal gate. She disappeared beneath the trees for a few minutes, then reemerged almost to the main house, where she pulled a key from her pocket, went up the few steps and inside.
Cyn frowned. Could it be that simple? Was Pushkin that clever or his enemies that easily fooled? She didn't want to think so. But it certainly seemed that Raphael's enemy was hiding in plain sight, leaving the well-maintained and obviously, if inefficiently, guarded house as nothing more than a fake while he and his vampires rested in the relative obscurity of this broken-down neighbor. But if that was so, she'd expect at least some guard presence. He might be confident in his ruse, but surely not that confident.
She scanned the new property with her binoculars and her certainty grew. Heavy, metal storm-style shutters covered every window. She lifted her gaze to the rooftop and almost missed the giveaway, it was so subtle. Nothing more than a shadow on the pale brick of the chimney. Her gaze traveled back to its source and she saw a black-clad leg shift into cover behind the arched parapet of the faux mission exterior. A careful search found no other signs, but that didn't mean they weren't there, only that the guards here were professional enough not to be seen ... unlike the Judge Judy fan at the other house.
Cyn continued to peer through the binoculars until her eyes watered with strain, but she could find no other indication of either vampires or their guards. Rubbing her eyes, she glanced idly at the rest of the compound and caught a flash of faded white far behind the house. An outbuilding of some sort? A garage?
She'd been hiding in the scrub of the hillside for nearly two hours, remaining virtually still, concealed within a thick cluster of oleander bushes. She was bored, restless, and beginning to wonder why she cared enough to spend her day lying on the wet ground while small rodents scurried about their business far too close for her comfort. Making a decision, she tucked the binocs carefully into her backpack and slithered up and over the hill until she was out of sight from below. Then she stood and began walking. Maybe a little direct reconnaissance was in order.
The guard at the beige house paid little attention as she jogged past, other than a leering scrutiny that filled her with disgust at the man's complete absence of simple intelligence, much less professionalism. Sure, she had quite intentionally stripped down to nothing but a stretchy, sleeveless undershirt, had even switched her utilitarian sports bra for a lacy number left over from her quick change at Benita's. But she was also wearing a baseball cap pulled low over her face and black, form-fitting trousers tucked into SWAT-style heavy boots which were hardly running shoes. And still the guy hadn't noticed anything except her bouncing boobs. She kept running until she was deep into the cul-de-sac, at the very far edge of the second property. A glance over her shoulder assured her the incompetent guard couldn't see her even if he thought to look, but cognizant of the watchers on the roof, she stopped on the street and moved from foot to foot, shaking her legs out, as if resting before resuming her jog back down the hill.
She stared at the house, wanting desperately to follow that wall just a little ways through the trees. Maybe there was a back gate, something less guarded, someplace big enough for a small human to pass through, but too small to warrant a full-time guard. She toyed with the idea for all of ten seconds. Too risky. The guards on the roof had certainly seen her enter the cul-de-sac, might even be watching her right now. If she disappeared, they'd come looking. And if there was one thing Cyn knew for sure, it was that she didn't want to party with Pushkin's vampires ever again.
She sighed in resignation and started back, resuming her jogging persona until she was down the road and out of sight. She'd have to do this the hard way, which meant circling around through the brush. More rodents, and probably snakes too. That damn Raphael had better be worth all of this.
On her hillside perch once again, she studied the area for several minutes, then scooted out of sight and started walking. It was a long, filthy hike and, despite the cool temperature, she was sweating profusely beneath the heavy material of her jacket. But that was better that having the skin scratched off her arms as she forced her way through tangles of brush and grass that probably hadn't been cleared since the last fire rolled through this area several years ago. She swore in disgust. Cyn was a city girl through and through. If she needed a jog, she did it on the sands of Malibu in front of her condo. If she wanted to hike, she drove to Beverly Center and hiked through the mall. She really didn't enjoy the great outdoors all that much, and this was definitely not her idea of a good time. But she wasn't some sort of foolish liability who needed to be left standing at the gate while the big boys raced off to save the day, either. So she kept walking.
It took the better part of two hours, and she had long since drained the last of her small water bottle, but eventually she made her way to the slope directly behind the overgrown white adobe. There was nothing here but scrublands, probably some sort of federal parkland or conservation area. Cyn dropped to her belly and pulled out her binoculars once again. It was a short drop to the estate on this side of the hill, with plenty of cover all the way down, wild oak mostly with branching trunks and full canopies, crowded by more of the tangled brush she'd fought through all the way here. The steep slant of the property would make it difficult for the watchers on the roof to see her, but a good security team would have people on the ground to make up for that. On the other hand, she hadn't seen a single guard outside the perimeter of the wall yet, not from her earlier observations and not now. Which only meant they were inside on the estate grounds instead.
She frowned and thought long and hard about what she was going to do. It was still daylight, so the guards would be human. She could handle human. They made noise and could be tracked like anyone else, and more importantly, they didn't have superhuman speed or fangs and claws. She lifted the binoculars once again. There was no break in the stone, not even a back gate of any kind, but the building she'd glimpsed from the hillside edged right up to the wall here. It would cover her if she wanted to climb over.
It was the memory of Raphael's voice telling her to be at the gate at eight sharp that got her moving. The vampire thought he could leave her behind, did he? She slithered down the hill, staying close to the ground and moving slowly, mindful of every sound. They'd cleared fifteen feet or so around the estate itself. It wasn't enough for an effective fire break, but it meant she'd have to cross a wide open space to reach the wall. She crouched beneath her last bit of cover and waited. After several minutes, during which she neither heard nor saw any indication of movement inside, she pulled flexible pads out of her thigh pockets and strapped them onto her knees. Then she stood and ran for the wall, flexing her knees and jumping at the last moment. Her hands caught the top edge and she pulled, using her feet and knees to gain traction on the rough surface, hitching herself higher until she could throw her upper body over the top. It was like climbing the rock wall at her gym. Or close enough. Once there, she froze in the lee of the outbuilding and listened. There had to be a guard presence in there somewhere, but damned if she could hear anyone, not even the shuffle of a boot or a grunt of movement gave them away. The wall of the outbuilding was very close, its peaked and tiled roof hiding her from anyone looking down from the main building. Below her was a cramped space filled with leaves, dirt and the usual detritus, reeking of animal feces and rot. She looked up. The roof was close, but those tiles were far more fragile than they looked, and they were hell to traverse. Was she really going to do this? Her stupid pride answered the question.
Hell, yes!
Maneuvering the rest of her body onto the top of the thick wall, she used the roof edge for support and duck-walked to the far end where she peered around slowly. It looked like a guest house of some sort, or maybe an old converted storage room. She thought about it for ten seconds, then swung her legs over and dropped quickly to the ground inside the compound. Her heart was pounding with the adrenaline rush of danger, that chemical cocktail that made everything seem a little more alive, a little more intense. It was the rush that every extreme athlete, every fireman, every Navy SEAL understood. It was the reason they did what they did. For Cyn, it was that little edge that pushed her to take insane risks from time to time. She wasn't a junkie, but she sure did like the taste on occasion. It had made her question her own sanity more than once, like right now, when she was hunkered down in the lair of a known thug who happened to be a vampire and had already tried to kill her once. And if that wasn't enough, a quick glance at her watch told her sunset was less than an hour away. She'd checked the almanac this morning to be sure.
Jesus, Cyn. If you needed a break from routine, couldn't you have taken a nice vacation?
Okay, so now she was inside and short on time. What to do next? She stood slowly, moving along the back of the guest house to peek around the corner. There were windows on this side, all boarded up from within. She frowned and looked around once again. She wished the damn guards would show themselves. At least she'd know what she was dealing with. It was dead as a cemetery in here, quiet as a grave. She covered her mouth against an insane giggle, almost choking when she heard voices ... and a door slam.
Be careful what you wish for, little girl
.
Any shred of humor fled, and she scurried back around the corner, tucking herself down close to the ground in the growing shadows. She had to get the fuck out of here. It was crazy enough to creep around a vampire's nest in the daytime, but to do so at night would be suicide. Besides, Raphael would be arriving soon after sundown, and she wanted to be there to greet his smug ass. Of course, it would be better if she had some sweet piece of intel to pass on, and she was already here...
The voices were drawing closer and Cyn realized with a sinking stomach that they were coming in her direction. She edged back toward the perimeter wall, crouching near the narrow, reeking space behind the cottage. If absolutely necessary, she could probably squeeze herself in there. If
absolutely
necessary.
"Come on, she can't be that bad.” It was a man's voice, lightly teasing.
"Oh hell, she whines constantly. Worse than a child. My ten-year-old granddaughter has more backbone than this one.” A woman this time.
"I don't know; she's a pretty little thing."
"She's a waste of good blood. I don't know why the master is bothering."
"Ssshhh! It's nearly dark; he could be awake already."
The woman blew out a disgusted breath, and Cyn could hear keys rattling, then the soft sound of a door opening. There was silence for a while, although she thought she heard movement inside the small house, then the door closed and there was the clear snick of a lock.
"You coming?” the woman asked.
"Nah, I'm supposed to be hanging around here. Something big's brewing. I'm not sure what. They don't tell us nothin'. Orders came down to guard this place ‘til a vamp replacement arrives. But a man's gotta piss and who's gonna know, huh?"
"I won't tell, sweetie. I gotta get back down the hill anyway. Have fun now."
"Yeah.” The guard sounded less than thrilled with his assignment. A sentiment Cyn sympathized with. If that jerk-off was going to stand there, how the hell was she going to get back over the wall and the hell out of Dodge?
"There a problem?"
Cyn jumped at the guard's shout, but he was still talking to the unseen woman who said something in response, something too low for Cyn to hear. “Here, let me look,” the guard continued, his voice fading slightly as he moved away.
Cyn didn't hesitate, but jumped for the wall and threw herself over, scraping the hell out of her stomach and hands on the rough surface as she slid down the other side. She hit with a loud thump, sending birds scattering out of the trees, and stayed huddled against the wall, fighting to bring her breathing under control, holding it tightly when she heard the heavy footsteps of the guard coming around the cottage to check out the noise. She could hear him shuffling in the dirt near the wall and wondered if she'd left foot prints of some kind, some sort of scuffle in the leaves or something. Shit, she wasn't a fucking tracker; she didn't know what he was looking for. But whatever it was, she hoped he wouldn't find it. She eased the 9mm out of her pocket and listened.
He moved away finally, muttering under his breath. Cyn waited ten more minutes, until the shadows were so long among the trees that there was barely any light to see by, and then she ran.