Renegade (Ministry of Paranormal Research & Defence) (19 page)

“
Yeah, sounds like your life is a regular cure for insomnia, which means you should love where we're going. Terry doesn't do boring.”

Kyle pulled the car into the driveway of a little one-story house.

“Morning Mrs Haubstein!” he called out as he stepped out and closed the door.

“
Good morning Kyle, good morning young lady,” replied a pleasant-looking middle aged woman who was weeding the garden of the house next door. “I think he's up. Someone took the garbage cans in, anyway.”

“
Thanks,” said Kyle, waving cheerily.

We went up the short path and Kyle unlocked the front door. Inside it was nothing I'd expected. A bachelor pad should be all crusty plates and unwashed underwear, stacks of porn and greasy takeaway containers. Of course, if it's a gay man's bachelor pad, tradition holds that it should be a delightfully designed space at the absolute cutting edge of fashionable interior design. Terry's house, however, was neither of these. Various comfortable pieces of mismatched furniture gave the living room a homey feel. One wall, the focus of the furniture, was dominated by one huge flat-screen TV which was flanked by three smaller screens. Cluttered shelves held technical manuals and scientific magazines, as well as a number of photographs: Kyle with his arm around the shoulders of a young, blonde-haired man, presumably Terry. The same man appeared with an older couple and alone in several other photographs.

The man in the photographs, wearing knee-length shorts and a bright orange sports jersey, stepped out from another room.

“
Kyle!” he said with a wide grin.

“
Hi Terry,” said Kyle.

Terry's eyes flicked to me and I could see his nostrils flare as he caught my scent.

“This is Marie,” said Kyle. “She's from England and she needs our help.”

“
Well, fair lady,” said Terry with a florid bow. “Never let it be said that I would ignore a damsel in distress.”

Kyle chuckled and shook his head affectionately, then quickly explained what had happened.

“Well,” said Terry after a few moments' thought. “You think the vampires are still looking for you?”

“
I don't see why not,” I replied. “They kidnapped me for a reason, whatever it was, and they must want me back.”

“
Yeah, so it's probably not a good idea to use the phone.”

“
Why not?” I asked.

“
The vampires have a lot of money and a lot of power. Whoever organized a snatch from England had some serious amounts of both. Enough that they may be able to monitor the phones at the Embassy. Keyword technology could easily send out an alert when you call in.”

“
Wouldn't that be illegal?” Kyle put in. “Illegal in, like, a major 'international incident' kind of way?”

“
Yeah, but so's kidnapping a British citizen and transporting them across the Atlantic, baby bear.”

Kyle turned red and Terry looked apologetic. It must have been a pet name. I didn't care, I thought it was kind of cute.

“So, what then?” I asked. “Email?”

“
Not to the Embassy. To your main base in England. And it has to be vague. Maybe 'I'm okay, I've escaped. Instructions?'. I can take care of the security at this end, just don't tell them where you are specifically.”

“
And the vamps won't be able to trace the email back here?”

“
There's not a vampire alive who could crack my security inside of a week. I don't think they'll be too hasty to get you back, though. Not after the scare your man has given them.”

“
What scare?”

“
Oh, of course! You wouldn't know, would you? Pagan did
not
react well to your kidnapping. Come take a look.”

Terry picked up a remote and turned on the big screen. He pulled a keyboard off of a wheeled desk and, one handed, began typing. I realized that the big TV doubled as a computer monitor. The box which sprang up on the screen showed a clear, high-resolution image of a stark, cold, brightly-lit room. Strapped to a sturdy chair in the center of the room was a naked vampire. I knew that vamp. He was the one, back in that hotel room in London, who had told my kidnappers not to shoot me with a second dart. I watched, frozen, dry-mouthed, as the second man in the room turned around. I knew instantly that he was Jack.

“I won't tell you a thing, do you hear me, human? Nothing!”

“
That's okay. There's nothing I want to ask you.”

“
Then what is the purpose of this charade, human?”

Jack strode across the room and punched the vampire in the face.

“The purpose is for you to die as messy and painful a death as I can manage to inflict upon you. … This little session is being recorded and broadcast live over the internet. I will keep you alive and in pain as an object lesson to your friends. If my mate is released, unharmed, I'll let them live. If she is harmed in anyway, when I find them—and I will find them, I will not rest, I will hunt them down and drag them here—when I find them your death will seem nice and easy in comparison. Any vampire that helps them will join them in their death. I will tear the world apart to find them and anyone they know.”

Hot tears built up in my eyes and spilled down my cheeks.

“Oh Jack,” I whispered. “What are you doing?”

“
You are not going to die quickly.”

“
What are you going to do?”

“
Hurt you. … Get comfortable, this may take a while.”

Kyle winced at what was going on in that awful room.

“Oh, he is
pissed
,” said Terry.

He sounded like he was enjoying himself. He was wrong about one thing. Jack wasn't merely pissed. He had gone beyond anger, beyond rage, beyond
pissed.
This was cold and hard. Emotionless. Terrifying.

“
What... what are people saying about this?” asked Kyle, sounding sick.

“
You know how people are,” said Terry. “Some people are saying it's a fake. Some nuts are screaming that the army should invade England and put everyone to the sword. There's a talk radio host in California who wants the army sent in to put all of the
vampires
to the sword. The mainstream media is mostly in the fake camp, with a couple of channels demanding to know what the President plans to do about it. Of course, those channels would be demanding to know what the President plans to do about a light rain.”

“
Turn it off,” I said quietly.

The video was making me sick. Jack had always kept his violence under strict control, even if he didn't know it. I knew that he had a dark past I was not a part of, but this side of him, the cold, calculating monster, inflicting pain and death with a terrifying logic and efficiency, was a stranger to me. I knew he had been driven to it by my kidnapping and now my only thought was to reach out to him, to let him know I was safe, that he could pull back and stop being afraid. That was what I saw in the set of his shoulders and in his every movement—fear. He was scared. And when he was scared he went into a deep, dark place, destroying everything in his way in an attempt to remove the fear.

Jack was scarier when he was afraid than he ever was when he was angry.

“
Turn it off,” I repeated a little louder.

Terry obliged.

“I need to send that e-mail.”

It had been almost an hour since I had sent off the carefully-worded email to Ministry headquarters. Terry had made a surprisingly good lunch for everyone—big, soft, bread rolls filled with melted cheese, fried onions, green peppers and something he called Steak-ums—and I answered some of his questions about the life of a vampire hunter as we cleaned up.

Somebody knocked on the door and Terry moved to open it before I could say anything. Standing on the porch was a pair of figures—werewolves from their scent. The shorter of the pair was an angelic young woman with pale skin and deep auburn hair pulled back into a ponytail. Behind her was an Afro-Caribbean—sorry, African American—male with a shaven head who was wearing a jersey from the same sports team as Terry.

“Natasha? Aiden?”

“
Hi Terry,” said the female, “Long time.”

“
Sure is,” said Terry, stepping back so the pair could enter.

Once inside Natasha gave Terry an enthusiastic hug.

“I missed you, you big dummy,” she said.

“
Of course you did,” said Terry. “So you just dropped by to tell me that?”

“
No, seems I need to talk to you about your guest.”

For the first time she acknowledged me, giving me a quick nod.

“You must be the one who has the vampires in a panic,” she said with a faint smile.

“
Panic?” said Kyle.

“
You parents were paid a visit,” she said, turning to him. “Two State Police officers came by, asking questions about a fugitive, a female werewolf who was in the area. They were human but your dad said he could smell the vampire on them. They gave a pretty good description of your friend here and said she was wanted for murder.

“
Your dad told them they had their heads up their asses if they thought a rogue would come anywhere near pack territory. Sent them off with their tails between their legs then paid a visit to Ishmael at the gas station. He phoned Tyler and whatever he said lit a fire. Tyler sent us down here to pick you three up. You're being offered the protection of the pack.”

“
I'll never figure out how dad manages to throw his weight around in the pack when he spends all his time protesting that he keeps out of pack politics.”

“
If you don't know, I can't tell you,” said the male. “That would be Tyler's decision. But we need to move. It's only a matter of time before those cops find someone else who tells them about Terry and you being seen with a blonde chick nobody knows.”

“
Okay, we move,” said Kyle, picking up his keys. “Where are we going?”

“
To Tyler's office initially,” said Aiden. “Once we get you into town we can protect you.”

“
Well, wait a minute,” said Terry, leaving the room.

He returned a few seconds later with a gym bag in one hand and a t-shirt in the other.

“You still keep a bailout bag?” asked Kyle in an accusing tone.

“
Gay werewolf, baby bear,” he replied. “Hard to think of a less accepted minority these days. Here, put this on.”

That last was directed at me, as was the shirt he was holding. It was bright orange with a white “T” on the front. As I pulled it on I noticed Aiden's grin was huge.

“Nice move, Terry,” he said. “We're playing tomorrow night.”

“
And Mrs Haubstein, as much as I love her to death, is something of a gossip. If those cops start asking questions around here they'll find out we're heading for the game.”

“
Hardly the act of a rogue and a fugitive,” said Natasha. “Or people harboring one.”

“
Should throw them off for a while,” said Terry. “We got everything we need?”

“
Got your paranoia?” said Kyle, looking pointedly at Terry's bag.

“
I prefer to call it being prepared,” said Terry.

Kyle chuckled as we walked out of the door. Terry, Kyle and I headed for Kyle's Mustang, Natasha and Aiden went for the blue Ford pickup truck parked behind it.

“You off?” came Mrs Haubstein voice from next door.

“
Yes, Mrs. Haubstein,” replied Terry with a cheery wave. “We're off to the Vols' game.”

“
Have fun!”

Terry waved again as we pulled out into the street, following Natasha's truck.

“You really think those State cops are going to be coming here?” asked Terry.

“
If they really were State cops,” I replied from the back seat. “Badges and uniforms don't necessarily mean anything.”

“
Well, whoever they are, if they find their way here they'll be sent off on the wrong track,” said Terry.

The two guys chatted amiably as I stared out of the window, noting whatever landmarks I could. I really didn't think Terry's friends would be leading us astray but knowing where you are and where you were going is part of werewolf instinct as well as Jack's training. We were taking the scenic route by the look of things. I saw several signs for the Interstate and other highways but we passed them by, taking single lane back roads and, once, an unpaved track.

I began to wonder about the vampires and their human employees. Were they still looking for me? And why? Was I just another loose end that needed tidying up or was I still, somehow, instrumental to their plans? Just how desperate would they be to get their hands on me? Best to assume the worst and be wrong then to assume I was safe from pursuit and get caught.