Homecoming (16 page)

“You mean before you kicked his ass?” Laura smiled at her. “Which is totally cool in my book by the way.”

Jennifer allowed herself to smile again. “But he’s okay?”

“You saw him. Did he look broken?”

“I’ve spent so long fearing him,” she whispered. “Now that I know, I…”

Laura nodded and pulled the girl into a hug. “I understand.”

“What do I do?”

Laura shrugged. “You can keep hiding and wondering or you can arrange to meet him.”

Jennifer stiffened fear running through to her very core. “I don’t think I could do that.”

“Meet him on neutral ground.” Laura soothed. “We have friends in Brazil. That’s not far. He could come there, and he would be at ease. You could meet him close by and,” Laura pulled back and turned the girl to face her. “If you want, I’ll be there with you.”

“Why would you do that? We kidnapped you.”

Laura shrugged. “You’re my friend’s Fated Mate. I have a feeling that, in time, you’ll be my friend as well.”

Jennifer slowly shook her head. “I don’t know.”

“What do you have to lose?”

Jennifer shrugged. “Another ten years?”

*****

“I really wish you would learn to control your outbursts. You are beginning to remind me of Paul when he was younger.” Rufus poured a glass of cognac and slipped into the chair across from Jack in his ‘office’ in the library.

Jack turned an angry glare to his benefactor. “Really? You’re comparing me to him?”

“
Oui
, many years ago he had difficulty curbing his tongue as well.”

Jack stood and stretched his neck. “I can’t say what he was like ‘many years ago’. But I can tell you one major difference between him and me.”

Rufus turned a curious eye to his Second. “Enlighten me.”

“Honor.” Jack turned and walked to the bar. He poured himself a whiskey and leaned against the counter.

Rufus nodded as he stared at his snifter. “
Oui
. That is a major difference.”

“So I’ll not take your comparison as an insult.” Jack lifted the glass in mock salute then tilted it back.

“
Non
, it was not an insult. It was merely an observation.” Rufus sipped his cognac and tapped lightly at the glass as his mind wandered.

“You do realize you can’t trust him.” It wasn’t a question.

Rufus said nothing but Jack swore he could almost detect a slight nod come from the man across from him. He poured another whiskey then pulled the stopper from the cognac and refilled Rufus’ glass. “I so want to believe in him, Jack.”

“Wanting something to be true, and it actually being true are two different things, my friend.”

“
Oui
, this is so.” Rufus set his glass down at the table and stood. “It is late and the sun will be up soon. I think I shall retire early.”

Jack placed a hand on his shoulder, stopping him from leaving. “You gonna be okay?”

Rufus nodded. “
Oui
, I shall be fine.” He patted Jack’s hand then excused himself.

Jack went back to his seat and opened his computer. He had begun an email to Mitchell, but couldn’t figure out how to word it. He knew that requesting any personnel during a full moon would be asking too much. As much as he wanted to tell his old boss, ‘thanks, but no thanks he could really use the back up. He reread the draft and decided against it. Keep it simple.

Colonel-

Just got word that the meeting must take place on the night of the full moon. I realize that this may well put you and the squads in a bad position and will understand if you cannot allow any team members leave at that time.

Awaiting your response,

Phoenix

He hit ‘send’ and sat back in his chair. Staring at the screen didn’t get him a reply any faster.

*****

Paul quietly unpacked his meager belongings in the guest room provided by his brother. He was grateful that the room held no windows and he finally felt somewhat comfortable in the posh surroundings of the castle. He carefully unpacked the clothing and placed them within the antique dresser, his suits and jackets he hung in the large armoire in the corner of the room. As he got closer to the bottom of the bag, his hand brushed the small plastic object that he knew he would soon have to deal with.

He pulled the transmitter from the bottom of the bag and ran his fingers along the smooth plastic surface. A simple switch and a tiny LED light was all that indicated that the thing was functioning. All he had to do was mash the switch, hide the transmitter, and the Council would know exactly where Thorn’s domicile was hidden. They could have a team of assassins swarm the island, overrun Thompson’s security and remove his brother with extreme prejudice.

Foster sat on the edge of the bed and stared at the small plastic device. The cold of the device didn’t register with him as he continued to run his hands along its smooth surface. He brushed a finger along the surface of the switch and his mind raced through endless possibilities. He could be free from the animal blood. The pact he signed would be null and void and he would have control of his people again. In fact, with Thorn being his only relative, all of his holdings would revert to Foster. He’d be instantly so wealthy he couldn’t possibly squander it all. Paul chuckled to himself.
Who am I kidding? I could burn through all of his money in one week in Vegas!

Foster stared into the shadows as his mind played endless possibilities over and over, each one more glorious than the previous. Of them all, Paul took great pleasure simply in seeing Jack Thompson, former Hunter, cut down and embarrassed in front of his brother.

Paul smiled as his hand smoothed over the finish of the device, his finger massaging the switch. “Too bad you couldn’t have just released me once the battle was done, dear brother.”

*****

John made sure he knew exactly where all of his squad mates were as he let the UV grenade fly. As soon as it went off and the interior of the church lit up, the screams began. Apollo was right about one thing, being right here in the muck was a lot different than being a distance off and shooting at moving targets with no face.

“Movement,” a voice sounded through the earpiece and John’s SCAR was to his shoulder, his eyes scanning through the ACOG scope. He heard the staccato of gunfire from the other side of the church and, in his peripheral vision, saw a body hit the ground, flaming ashes rising into the chilling night sky.

He caught movement to his right and brought the barrel to bear on the quickly moving targets. He opened fire as the first of three targets leapt through the broken window, each bursting into flame in mid leap and crumbling to the sandy ground as flaming embers.

“Three tangos down,” he quickly reported.

“Ten o’clock!” Lamb yelled, and gunfire belched into the night once more as the teams slowly advanced on the remains of the building.

Spalding tapped Sullivan’s shoulder and, using hand signals, motioned him to the rear of the church. John turned and hurried down the long wall, checking each crumbling doorway or broken window as he went. Darren took up the rear and covered the roofline. As they rounded the corner, the remains of an old adobe wall ran off along the rear of the church, its bricks and mud mortar crumbling and sections had collapsed. John scanned the open desert behind the wall and saw no movement before he turned and staged to the right of the door.

Spalding took the left then keyed his mic, “We’re breaching the rear.”

“Copy that, Team Leader. Approaching the front,” Jacobs replied.

Spalding nodded to Sullivan who turned and kicked the dry rotted wood inward, cutting left as he entered. Spalding covered and closed the gap. Both men worked their way forward clearing rooms as they went. They smoked two more vamps that were hiding, reducing them to ash and found one crispy but wounded one that tried to escape from a side window. Donovan finished the job before his feet ever hit the ground.

They could hear more gunfire toward the front of the church and worked their way forward. Lamb stepped into the hallway and waved them forward. “We got something.”

Spalding could hear whimpering and a man’s voice screaming at the operators. He stepped into what used to be the Chaplain’s office. “What’s this?”

Three nude female vampires stood between the operators and a male who was yelling at the soldiers. “You have no right to be here. We’re
Beastia
!
Lamia Beastia
!”

Spalding stepped forward and rested his rifle on his shoulder, “Easy there, easy. Just calm down a second.”

“No! Bullshit! You calm down. You can’t just come in here guns blazing and start shooting everybody! We’re not
Lamia Humanus
!” Spittle flew from the male vampire’s mouth as he yelled.

Spalding glanced at Lamb who shrugged. Little John leaned close and asked, “What’s a
Lamia Beastia
?”

“Good guys,” Spalding said. “Actually, they’re allies.”

“That’s right. We’re allies, asshole!”

Spalding turned back to the irate male. “If you’re truly
Lamia Beastia
that means you’re part of Thorn’s group?”

“Yeah, that’s right…Thorn.” He thumped his chest and thrust his chin out at them.

“So you’ve spoken to him since we’ve become allies?” Darren asked.

“Yeah, all the time. Me and him are homies.”

Spalding smiled and pulled the rifle from his shoulder. “Then you won’t mind giving me the password.”

The male vampire froze, his face suddenly ashen. “The what?”

“The password? Surely your
homie
would have told you the one key word that would save your life in an event…well, just like this one.” Darren patted his rifle against his open palm.

“Uh…he uh…well…”

“Clock is ticking.” He smiled at the vampire. “Homie.”

“Aw…fuck.” The male vampire grabbed two of the females and pulled them closer, making shields of them.

Darren turned and walked out of the room. “Smoke ‘em.”

The sound of gunfire and resultant ash took only moments.

Little John trotted to catch up to Spalding. “What was that all about? Allies and passwords and—”

Darren snorted. “No such thing.” He stepped out into the alcove and motioned to Donovan. Turning back to Sullivan he continued, “Oh, we have some vampires who only feed off of animals. Those are the
Lamia Beastia
and we leave them alone. As long as they play by the rules, we don’t mess with them.”

“So there is a password?”

Darren gave him a silly sideways smile. “Hell no.”

“Then what was all that about?”

“He didn’t know that. If he had truly been
Lamia Beastia
, he’d have known there wasn’t a password, and he’d have called me on it.”

Little John rubbed at the back of his neck, the acrid smell of burnt flesh causing his eyes to water and his nose to run. “Are you sure of that?”

Darren nodded. “Oh yeah. And another thing, real
Beastias
have a touch of class. That ass-hat didn’t.”

Little John looked back toward the room where the bloodsuckers were and considered the possibilities. He didn’t get a chance to do much thinking before Jacobs returned from the rear of the church. “We have a problem.”

Spalding turned and faced him. “Report.”

“Intel stated minimum thirty tangos. I counted thirteen ashed bodies.”

Lamb stepped out of a side room and looked to Spalding. “Could we have missed a hunting party?”

“I don’t know. But if we did and they were anywhere close, they would have heard us.” He stepped outside and keyed his mic, “OPCOM, Team Leader. We have an issue.”

*****

Damien dropped Rachel out of sight from the meeting place. He could see the old schoolhouse from his vantage point and figured they had at least three more hours before they had to worry about sunrise. He quickly closed the gap and stood behind a small copse of trees. He could see somebody moving about inside the building but he couldn’t tell if it was more than one person inside.

Stepping out from his hiding spot a voice called to him, “I was beginning to wonder if you were going to hide there all night or if you’d actually stroll up and knock.”

Damien froze in his tracks. He dared not move too quickly, but his curiosity got the better of him. “I just wanted to make sure that it wasn’t a trap.”

The voice chuckled and stepped closer behind him. “You’re a crafty one now, aren’t you?” He stepped past Damien and continued toward the house. “Come along then. And you can have your lady friend join you whenever you like.”

He didn’t catch the fellow’s face, but he was dressed in a tan overcoat and had a hat that covered salt and pepper grey hair. Damien noted the hiking boots and knew the man was prepared for the territory. He fell into step behind him, and turned slightly to the hill that Rachel was supposed to be watching from. He motioned for her to come down but whether or not she would, he couldn’t say.