The Heist (17 page)

It would have
been churlish, he mused, if he didn’t do a little spying of his
own. Fair’s fair in love and war, after all.

And he did love
war.

Once inside
the mansion, gaining access undetected by using the workmen's
entrance at the back of the property, Xavier loosened the fixings
at the air conditioning vents and crawled in, slowly edging his way
through the matrix of pipes until he reached his destination.
 The air vent in Snr Belcastro’s office was located almost
directly above the desk, and from there he had a bird’s eye view to
the meeting between him, Martinez and Ricardo.

He had
arrived just as they had been talking about him, so he settled in
to hear exactly what the bitches were saying when Snr Belcastro was
interrupted with a call. Just as it was beginning to get
interesting, he heard some clangs and rumbles.

Cursing under
his breath he realised that some fucker had just switched on the
air conditioner, and if he didn’t get out of there fast he was
going to be blasted with a wall of cold air. It wouldn’t be a good
look on him. He was torn between saving his fuck handsome self
and hearing more about Snr Belcastro’s dodgy business dealings.
 In the end knew he had to get the fuck out of there, so
started to crawl back to the exit he had come in
through.

“
Sounds like
the twisted bastard is getting involved in people trafficking.”
Xavier’s frown furrowed as he walked away from the mansion, back
towards his bike. And if his suspicions were true, then there was
no way in hell he would continue working for Belcastro, much less
hand over Alicia to his mercy.  He may be a trained killer and
skilled soldier, but he had standards and his own moral code from
which he never strayed.

When Xavier
got back to the base, he avoided Shuggie like the plague, grabbed a
couple of bottles of Scotch and barricaded himself in his quarters.
 Too much was happening, too fast and he wasn’t in control of
one iota of it.

Unfuckingacceptable
, he thought to
himself as he started work on emptying the contents of the amber
liquid straight down his throat.

If he could
just get himself drunk enough to fall into a coma, let his body
relax, and not have any of his usual nightmares or worse — the
dreams he seemed to be getting more and more frequently starring
the new bane of his existence, Alicia ‘Friera’ Carberfuckingletti.
Yeah, he agreed with himself as he belched loud enough to cause
avalanches half way across the globe, one dreamless sleep would let
him sort his head out. Tomorrow he would start sorting all the
shit out, just as soon as he could. Xavier’s hand let the almost
empty bottle slip out of his hand as he fell sound asleep, slouched
at an awkward angle in his chair.

“
No, no, not
again - fuck!” Even in his subconscious state, Xavier could feel
the dreams gaining on him. This wasn’t part of the deal - the
dreams weren’t playing by the rules!

In his
dreams, Xavier could feel the fresh air hitting him like a brick in
the face. Almost as though he was experiencing it for real. Lately,
the dreams were becoming more like remembered memories, so
palpable, he could almost touch them. But that was madness,
because they were just dreams, weren’t they? As Xavier
inhaled, his lungs burned with the cold. Fucking perfect. His body
jerked in the seat where he slept as his dream made him feel as
though he felt all of his bones cracking, muscles and veins
contorting, but by fuck did the pain feel good to him. His
adrenaline was pumping, and all his senses enhanced as he padded
about, the undergrowth damp under his paws.

Wait. What?!

Looking down, Xavier seen
that he had huge grey paws, instead of feet.  It was only then
that he noticed he was on all fours, and covered in fur.  In
his dream he had shifted to his wolf form.  But instead of
panicking, he merely sniffed the air and picked up a familiar scent
in the wind, coming from the North.

“
Mine.
” The
only word he was capable of thinking, but instead of verbalising it
he could only lift his head up, stretching his throat and howling
into the night sky.

The hunt was
on.

Xavier felt
good stretching his limbs, the cold air through his ‘fur’ pushing
him on as he ran at full pelt towards the scent. It was getting
stronger the nearer he got to it.  Instinctively, he slowed
and kept his belly low, running stealthily through the forest.
Seeing a female in his sights, he stopped dead.

Xavier, still
in wolf form, kept his movements quiet, never taking his eyes off
of the mysterious female. Just as he was about to pounce on her and
mark her as his, he heard other voices — human voices — which
startled her and she began running away from him.

“
No. Mine. Protect.
Mine!
” As Xavier’s dream intensified, his
body twitched and he was muttering under his breath, in between
noisy snores.
The dream was quickly
turning into a full on nightmare, as panic gripped Xavier in his
wolf form.The female,
his
female, was in danger from unseen men.

He had to protect
her.

He knew that
he would give his life to save her, even though he still couldn’t
make out her features. As the men who were chasing her came into
view, he let the female run ahead and lunged onto them, pinning
both down with his front paws on their backs. Baring his razor
sharp fangs he snarled a warning, before realising that the men
were armed and both reaching for their weapons.

Xavier’s eyes
were darting behind his closed eyelids, and his heart rate had gone
tachycardic as he entered this part of his dream.  He could
sense the fear and loneliness within the female and that was all
the indicators he needed to draw his muzzle back, baring his teeth,
and bite down ferociously into his two captives.  Tearing into
their flesh, ripping them apart — skin, muscle, sinews all being
pulled from their bones.

The threat to his female
must be neutralised.

As his
blood-stained fur clung to him, he gave a triumphant howl before
padding through the undergrowth of the forest, the need to console
and comfort the female almost overwhelming him. As he looked up
through wolf eyes, he saw the female turnaround ahead of him.
 She was moving as though she was in slow motion.

And then he recognised
her.

Alicia
.

Xavier was
awoken by someone shouting, but in his disorientated state he
realised that the shouting was coming from his own
mouth, and the word he had been shouting was
‘Alicia’ over and over again.  He didn’t know whether it was
the fact he had woken up with abruptly, or the fact he had caught
himself shouting her name, but he fell out of the chair hitting his
ass off the floor with a thud — and narrowly missing landing on the
discarded empty bottle of scotch.

“
What the fuck
is wrong with me and my fucked up dreams?”

Getting up,
Xavier headed towards the bathroom. He needed a shower, and wanted
to shake off the ghost of his dream so that he could focus on the
real shit that he had to deal with.  As he turned on the
spray, he caught sight of himself in the mirror.

His beard was
almost at ‘Brian Blessed’ proportions and the second that thought
popped into his head, he started singing “Flash Aaaah - Gordon is
Alive!” Reaching for his sorely neglected razor, he started to
lather up his face, scraping off the hairs but still singing that
damn song. The steam from the shower was fogging up the mirror, but
Xavier was used to shaving without having to see his fuck handsome
reflection.
Once the beard had been
slayed, he walked into the shower and stood with his hands flat on
the cold tiles letting the hot spray hit off of his body, his head
bowed, and eyes closed.

That was his
biggest mistake because the minute he closed his eyes that damned
stubborn, argumentative — beautiful — female appeared in his mind’s
eye. Alicia had somehow found a way to hijack not only his dreams,
but his waking thoughts. Maybe she had put a bloody spell on
him or something? Which was nonsense because vampires can’t do
that. Xavier’s eyes opened and his body tensed. No, vampires can’t
spell-cast, but they were capable of mesmerising victims.
 Getting into their heads and placing their own thoughts in
there, so that the victim didn’t even know it was
happening!

“
Fuck!”

Xavier’s hand
slammed against the tile but then he started to rationalise.
 No vampire had ever been able to do that to him. Shuggie once
remarked that he must be immune to it, due to his father’s Werewolf
DNA. If that were true, it was the only fucking thing the bastard
had given him that was worth a shit, and the only benefit to having
tainted blood in his veins.

As his
thoughts started to meander down the nostalgia route, he reckoned
that the reason he was now dreaming of being a bloody wolf was
because of his heritage, and maybe some sort of yearning to be what
the rest of his family had been, and what he never was — a
werewolf.

If asked,
Xavier would have denied until he was blue in the face that it had
ever bothered him being the “runt” who was mortal and unable to
change.  Deep down, if he was being honest with himself
though? Yeah, that was a different matter. His life would have
been so much easier if he had been like the rest of
them. Maybe Alicia would have respected him if he had been
able to shift. She could probably sense on him that he was
defective and that’s why she seemed to hate him on
sight.

With a heavy sigh, he
bowed his head back under the spray and blindly reached for the
shower gel.  The scent of cherries filled his nostrils as he
lathered up his sculpted, war-scarred body.  

She was getting
closer.

He didn’t
know how, but he just knew she was on her way to him. Or Shuggie.
The two of them seemed to be getting helluva buddy buddy lately,
hadn’t they? Unaccustomed to jealousy, that sucker punch caught
Xavier off-guard.

“
Get a
fucking grip you stupid fuckwit,” he berated himself as he finished
his shower, grabbing a towel and wrapping it around his hips as he
walked back through to the bedroom.  He pulled out his kitbag
from under his bed and rummaged around, grinning with satisfaction
as he found what he was looking for.

Holding the
white bottle in his hand, he just nodded smugly. “Wouldn’t fucking
hurt to smarten up for once, yeah?” Denying to himself that it had
anything whatsoever remotely to do with the fact he was sure Alicia
was about to pay them a visit.  Splashing some of the liquid
into his palms, he slapped his hands on his face. Xavier’s eyes
almost bugged out of their sockets as the aftershave stung every
goddamn pore in his skin. Inhaling sharply, before checking
himself out in the wardrobe mirror. “Old Spice, the mark of a fuck
handsome man!”

Shuggie
reckoned that as soon as Xavier had left he would have went
straight towards the Belcastro mansion.  He tidied up the
place quickly before changing his clothes and flashing to the alley
at the side of the restaurant which was now becoming ‘The Meeting
Place’ for him and the little vampire.  He smiled as soon as
he saw her and bowed reverently.

“
Ah hope ye
huvnae been waiting long, youngling, ah kin only
apologise.”

“
Well good
evening Hugh a pleasure as always to see you fine self.” Alicia
smiled at her new friend then thrust the carrier bag she was
holding in her hand up at him. “I got you a gift!”

Taking the
bag that was thrust at him, Shuggie looked inside and a wide smile
formed on his lips.

“
Ye shudnae
huv done that, lass,” looking back up at her, “thank ye, I’ll keep
it fur a special occasion.” Shuggie was truly touched by the little
vampire’s kindness, even though he had a good idea that she had
procured it without the owner’s knowledge!  “Its mah
favourite, how did ye guess?”

“
The mortal in the shop told me it was seventy years old,
making it the joint oldest whiskey in the world and since you’ve
been alive for eons. I thought you’d appreciate it.”
Alicia smirked at Hugh but her eyes were full of
playfulness. “It’s custom to take wine or flowers when invited on a
playdate but you don’t come across as the mushy type
Hugh.”

“
Oh, I dinnae
ken aboot that lass, I’m partial tae some thistles an heather.”
Giving a wink and a smile, Shuggie offered his arm to Alicia. “Now,
would ye like tae accompany me tae my dwellings?”

“
Why Sir, I would love to accompany you to your fine abode.”
Alicia hooked her arm around Shuggie’s and tried to keep up the
best she could as his long legs strode, leading them away from the
tourist location.
“I’d never have
thought a Scotsman would be living in Mexico.” In the next breath
she blurted out, “Aren’t thistles prickly?”

Shuggie
looked down at the little vampire, and flashed a grin. “Ach,
they’re jist a wee bit jaggy, but like anythin’ bonnie - ye handle
them wi’ care, ye willnae get hurt,” he laughed a little as they
crossed the road towards the deserted park.