Waging War (6 page)

Read Waging War Online

Authors: April White

Tags: #vampire, #world war ii, #paranormal, #french resistance, #time travel, #bletchley park

This girl had a way about her that wasn’t
exactly suspicious, but definitely wary. Both she and her brother
stood like they were ready to bolt, but defiantly, as if running
would be a choice, not a reaction. From our seat on the bench I
could see Jeeves drive the Range Rover slowly by the park, and I
realized he must be looking for us. I suddenly felt guilty for
having sent him away.

Melanie considered me for a moment longer,
then finally spoke. “The lady with the dog – she tried to get me
and Cole to help her look too. She was actually pretty adamant
about it when she called to us across the street right before the
white van pulled up.”

I stared at her. “Are you guys mixed?”

Cole finally spoke, and his tone was angry.
“Race, or blood?”

I opened my mouth to try to pull my foot out
of it, but Melanie got up angrily. “Why’d you have to go and ask
that?” She stalked away from the bench, but I finally found my
voice and stepped in front of Cole before he could follow her.

“I don’t care about race. I’m mixed-blood.
That’s why I asked. And Tam is too, isn’t he? Olivia said he was
part-Seer. If he is actually mixed, it could be why he was taken.
And if you guys are too, you could still be in danger.”

Cole glared at me. “We’re done here.” He
pushed past me and ran after his sister. Mom grabbed my hand so I
couldn’t follow. “Let them go, Saira. They’re scared.”

The black Range Rover cruised past again,
and I waved to it. “Poor Jeeves has been circling the park, looking
for us. Let’s put him out of his misery.”

I held her hand as we walked back to the
street. I hadn’t done that since I was a kid and it felt comforting
and solid, like she had my back and I had hers. The Range Rover
slowed to a stop and she got into the back seat first. I had my
mouth open to apologize to Jeeves as I shut the door behind me, but
the words died in my throat as a wave of Monger gut hit me like a
sledgehammer.

Seth Walters smiled at me from the passenger
seat.

 

Monger

“Lock the doors,” Slick said calmly.

Before I could throw the door open again,
Jeeves had hit the master lock and I was trapped.

“Child locks, please.” Slick’s voice was so
casual it made my skin crawl. The click of the child-safety catch
made it impossible for me to unlock my door, but worse, it meant
Jeeves was doing what Slick wanted without even questioning it.

I tore my eyes away from Slick to glance at
my mom, which felt vaguely like looking away from a snake. She was
staring at him in a trance-like way, and I wanted to slap her awake
- then I saw the ring.

Panic coursed through my veins like wildfire
and I started banging on the window, half hoping I could break the
glass. I remembered the last time my mom had been under the ring’s
influence – it was as if she’d been programmed like an automaton.
Sanda had said there were rumors the ring could cause a kind of
hypnosis that would make people believe and do whatever the wearer
told them.

“There’s no need for dramatics, Miss Elian.
It’s bulletproof glass, and you’re quite safe in this car.” His
calm voice made me want to scream. I felt anything but safe.

Wait. I felt anything but safe.

He was telling me to feel safe, but I felt
like life sucked more in this moment than possibly any other in a
very long time. I looked over at my mom again. She had settled back
in her seat and had a pleasant, placid look on her face. Jeeves was
driving as if we were all out for a Sunday spin.

And I. Didn’t. Feel. Safe.

Did that mean the ring wasn’t working on
me?

Why wouldn’t it work on me?

I stared at Slick, and the smile tightened
in the corners of his mouth. We were crossing the Thames on the
Vauxhall Bridge in the kind of traffic it’s easier to walk through,
and when Jeeves finally turned left past the MI5 building, I knew
where we were going.

I fought every protective instinct I had
about what Slick and his ring had just done to my mom, and I turned
away from her to stare out the window. I could tell Slick expected
something different from me, but he wasn’t going to get it. Not
yet. Not until Mom and Jeeves were outside the range of the Monger
ring.

The Range Rover finally glided to a stop and
Slick spoke in a not-so-pleasant voice. “Get out.”

“You first, and then you tell them to go
home.”

Slick’s eyes narrowed fractionally. I guess
I’d just busted myself in about a million different ways, but
getting my mom and Jeeves to safety came first. I faced him grimly.
“Just tell him to take her home as soon as I’ve left the car. Then
shut the door and I’ll get out.”

“How do I know you won’t run?”

I gave him a
don’t be an idiot
look.
“Because your goons followed us, because this is your ‘hood, and
because I’m sick of running from you. Just do it, Seth. You know
the Clocker Head can’t go missing.”

He regarded me for a moment longer. “Unlock
the doors,” he told Jeeves, then he got out of the car and threw a
hand signal to the black SUV I’d seen behind us. Before he closed
the passenger door, Slick spoke to Jeeves again. “When Saira gets
out of the car, take Lady Elian home. Saira went back in time to go
find someone, and she’s fine.” He slammed the door and shot a look
at me. “Now you.”

I resisted touching my mom’s hand when I
looked at her. “Bye, Mom.”

I did touch Jeeves’ shoulder as I got out of
the car. I gave it a squeeze like I was trying to wake him up, and
he met my eyes for a bare second in the rear-view mirror as I slid
out of the back door. When I’d closed it behind me the Range Rover
pulled smoothly away.

Slick stood on the sidewalk like he was
daring me to run, which I didn’t. I may have ignored the line
between bravery and stupidity at times, but this was not one of
them. I thought I saw someone resembling Cole at the corner, out of
breath. Technically, I guess we’d been stuck in traffic long enough
that he could have followed us, and if
he
didn’t do anything
stupid, like get caught, there would be someone to report where I
was. I drew Slick’s eyes to me so he wouldn’t notice Cole as I
looked up at the building that housed his office. The arched
windows of the second and third floors gave it the look of a
strange monster that peered down at us balefully. Slick’s grip on
my upper arm was too hard, but I didn’t say a word as he pulled me
up to the front door, hit a button, glared up at a security camera,
and when the lock buzzed open, he escorted me inside.

On my previous visit inside Slick’s office
building, Ringo and I had skipped the first floor and headed
straight for the top. This time I was paying attention to every
detail as we made our way to Slick’s personal office. He gestured
for me to sit across from his desk as if I was a client, and he
closed the door behind me. I saw someone’s shadow just outside the
door and figured the goon squad had arrived.

I mentally ran down what Slick could
possibly know about me. I was a Clocker, obviously, but I didn’t
think he’d ever seen me actually draw a spiral, so he probably
thought I was like most Clockers who needed a pre-existing one in
order to Clock. He knew I could run, which I’d done on Tower Bridge
when I’d lost the Monger goon he sent after me, and one of his guys
had seen me as a Cougar at Elian Manor, but Archer said they’d kept
me out of the guy’s sight when I’d returned to my human form. I
wasn’t wearing the Shifter Bone right now because … a Cougar in
London. Yeah, no. But at this moment, I had a very strong desire
for my Cat’s claws and Slick’s face to meet up and have a
party.

Slick was studying me as if I was something
that baffled him. He looked a little like Daniel Craig from the
James Bond movies in his expensive suit, and I thought he might be
considered handsome if it weren’t for all the ugliness in his
eyes.

“Where’s my son?” he asked.

Of everything I expected to come out of Seth
Walters’ mouth, that was only slightly less surprising than an
apology and an offer for tea would have been. I fought down an
instant, boiling anger, just so I didn’t lose any tiny advantage I
might have by saying something stupid.

“Dead,” I said.

“No, he’s not.”

Wasn’t Slick just full of surprises today?
“How do you know?”

“I know.”

The simple certainty with which he spoke
sent a chill down my spine that had nothing to do with the
Monger-gut I was currently wracked with in his presence.

“Where are all the Descendants you’ve
taken?” Since he wasn’t making sense, I decided to throw a
non-sequitur at him for variety.

He smiled slowly. “Why don’t we trade?”

Huh?

The slime in his voice practically coated
the walls. “You get me what I want, and I’ll give you your missing
mixed-bloods.”

“They
are
all mixed,” I breathed.

He sneered. “They’re abominations.”

“We’re
people
. Abominations are
things that are hated and reviled. You know … like you.”

Sass was clearly winning over
don’t-say-anything-stupid, and I could practically see Slick’s
temper build. He spoke through gritted teeth.

“Mixed-bloods are aberrations. Their skills
are abnormal, they don’t behave or respond like proper Descendants,
and even their Families don’t acknowledge them.”

Something was starting to chime in my brain,
but the hatred that was beginning to unfurl around the nausea in my
guts obscured it. I tamped the hatred down firmly so it didn’t take
over.

“How’d you find them?” I managed to keep my
tone almost totally even.

“When you stole my genealogy, we had to
start from scratch. Modern birth certificates in the internet age
are so much more helpful in determining parentage than old church
records were, and frankly, anyone who opposed us with the Council
was fair game. Of course, capturing mixed-bloods required a bit
more brute force than it would with someone less abberant.” He
played with the dagger-shaped letter opener on his desk, the Monger
ring winking at me like a malevolent eye.

“It’s remarkable, really,” he continued,
“the amount of interbreeding that has occurred over the past
hundred years. You people rut like bloody rabbits.”

“Pot. Kettle.” I said under my breath. My
ability to be cautious had flown out the window with my patience,
and as I stared at the ring, a lightbulb suddenly exploded in my
brain. Slick said mixed-bloods were aberrant – that we didn’t
respond like proper Descendants. Respond? It was an odd enough word
choice that I flung caution to the wind and tried something risky.
“So, is every mixed-blood immune to the ring, or just me?”

Clearly, that was a mistake. I wasn’t sure
it was possible for Slick to get any scarier, but it happened.
Right before my eyes. It was almost as if his Mongerness got
bigger, and then rolled off him in sickening waves that filled the
room like a noxious stench. I felt myself shrinking in my seat
under his glare and had to anchor myself so I didn’t run away
screaming.

“We’re done here.” The way he said it made
me seriously consider that he could take me out back and have me
shot.

“You wanted something from me.” I tried not
to squeak in fear, but I wasn’t sure I was successful.

“No, you’re not ready to have that
conversation. You need to understand the gravity of your situation
before you realize how badly you want to work for me.”

“Why do you want Tom? What could he possibly
mean to you?”

Rage flashed in Slick’s eyes. “Your petty
Council politics will play right into my hands. And when it’s time
to shift the power to us, Tom will stand with me. His skills set
him apart and make him someone to fear.” Slick’s grin was entirely
too gleeful for my taste. “He has my blood.”

“Which made him one of those
aberrations
you hate so much, and which you didn’t mind
spilling when you shot him!” I lashed back. Apparently, all my
self-preservation instincts had fled too.

Slick’s voice turned icy. “My grandfather
once beat my father so badly when he was a child that my father
vomited blood for a week. My father passed along the favor to his
son. Tom knew my history. He knew the family tradition of blooding
our children, and I believe he’d tell you he got off lightly to
have only been shot in the arm.”

“You don’t know anything about Tom!”

“I know half his blood is mine!” he hissed.
All of Slick’s rage and venom suddenly put Archer’s desire to find
Tom in a new light. Half of Tom’s blood came from the vicious man
who sat in front of me, the same man who had finally succeeded in
kidnapping me and who was the Monger Family enforcer. That blood
now ran in the veins of a Vampire – essentially immortal and
immeasurably strong, with Sight and Clocking skills. I couldn’t
imagine that Slick even knew about those skills, but if he ever got
his hands on them …

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