UNCONTROLLED BURN (4 page)

White walls of steam had replaced the black smoke in the hall. The orange glow was gone, leaving only the heaviness of the night and the thudding sound of an axe against a wall. A stove fire. Josh broke off to check on the charred apartment and help the others assess the walls for hot spots. The supply of water no longer needed, the hose lay limp and flat at their feet.

Reese led Mrs. Linscott and her feisty cat down the stairs and into the waiting embrace of her worried daughter.

Deputy Chief Sykes was focused on the radio as Reese moved to the engine. “We’ve got another call,” he said simply. Reese didn’t need to hear any more. He’d learned to read the man months ago. Though his words were calm, tension sluiced off Sykes in waves and Reese immediately ran to the building to help Timmons and Josh retract the extra hose.

“Colton, Burkett and Timmons with me in the engine.” He heard over his radio. “We’ll leave McLeod with the tanker. They’re calling in everyone. Let’s get moving. This one’s big.”

* * *

Before the last three patrons had left, Alex had worked her way through the small kitchen. The grease was scooped and turned off and the dishwasher hummed its way through the last load of dishes. Without Chris to help in the kitchen, they hadn’t served anything that wasn’t pre-packaged, couldn’t be nuked or dropped in the deep fryer. It hadn’t really mattered. Patrons landing at O’Malley’s in the late evening weren’t seeking comfort from a great steak or delicious sandwich. They were usually looking for the pity party found at the bottom of a beer bottle or shot glass.

Alex swiped at the sticky table, stifling another yawn with the back of her hand. She’d deposited Hope safely back at her apartment, wishing she too could have headed home. Refusing to give credibility to Glenn’s concern, she’d returned to the tavern and now pushed herself to get through their nightly closing routine.

Co-owning a family tavern like O’Malley’s had been her lifeline over the years. Thirty years was a long time to tend bar and draw drafts. Customers of the tavern didn’t seem to notice that she hadn’t aged in that time. Though the lack of wrinkles was a definite plus, Alex detested being a creature of the night. Most vamps enjoyed the company of their own and sought the rowdier establishments in the valley. Not Alex. Solitude and quiet were more her speed. This tavern, nestled in the quiet hills, offered cover for her true identity. It was also remote enough to keep prying eyes from discovering her clandestine activities. With everything set in motion, she only needed another month, maybe two, and then she’d move away without anyone, including Glenn, knowing what she’d been doing.

Until then, she’d keep up appearances.

Not wanting the man behind the bar to suspect something was wrong, Alex kept her complaints to herself. As Glenn polished the seasoned mahogany, she wordlessly moved on to stacking chairs and cleaning the floor. Next he’d cover the drink garnishes and transfer them to the fridge out back and she’d stack the clean glasses. Their routine was a graceful ballet they’d performed so many nights, the choreography required nothing more than the pulsing rhythm of the late night show playing on the corner television.

She hated lying to the ancient vampire. Glenn had been one of the original vampire clan who’d come over from Europe in the late 1700s. He’d settled in South Kenton years before she’d arrived as a fresh-faced college kid from back east ready to find her independence and take on the world. It hadn’t quite unfolded as she’d planned. After her
accident
freshman year, Glenn had become her surrogate father. He’d nurtured her, showed her how to control the beast and taught her what it meant to be immortal. She, in turn, had bought an owner’s share of the tavern and used her chemistry skills to help perfect their blood wine.

Glenn believed in the vampire codes and that immortality was a blessing bestowed on only a select few humans strong enough to survive the transition. Alex believed it was an unnatural curse that had stolen her life. She would go to any lengths to be sure no other human had to suffer the way she had.

If Glenn knew what she was up to, Alex had no doubt it would break his heart. As much as she hated what she was—she loved the man who had created her.

She’d become all too familiar with the signs of need. “Push through the next thirty minutes and the night is yours,” she mumbled, trying to convince her body to ignore the gnawing in her gut and the throb at her temples. There was only one thing that pushed the nausea and dizziness back into the void and made this whole thing manageable. As exhausted as she was—sleep wasn’t going to help.

“Alex?” Her name was spoken with persistence, pulling her from the fog of self-pity. “I think you need to see this.” Glenn grabbed the television remote, turning up the volume.

Alex stared in disbelief.

Hope stood in front of the news camera, the chaotic scene behind her incongruent with her calm voice and flawless appearance.

How had she gotten there so quickly?

“… the home of Professor Paul Morgan.” Hope said before looking down at her notes. “We know several surrounding towns have been called in to fight the blaze, but we have no information whether anyone was in the home.” The cameraman zoomed in on the mansion being devoured by the deadly fire. Firefighters in heavy gear worked hoses spewing water that didn’t seem to be slowing the progression of the flames.

“I hope like hell they got him out.” Glenn turned to her. “Alex, you all right? You’re ashen.” He moved to come around the bar, but she waved him off. “I shouldn’t have said that. I’m sorry. I’m sure they got the professor out.”

Dread and uncertainty made her light-headed, compounding the nausea churning in her gut. Paul Morgan’s life wasn’t her concern, but she wasn’t beyond using it for an excuse. “I’ve got to go find out if the professor’s all right.” Grateful the lie didn’t trip her tongue, Alex removed the apron and left it balled on the bar. “The kitchen’s done. You just need to lock up.”

“Let me drive you.”

“No.” The word came out hard and emphatic. Turning back to him, she forced a smile, her hands pushing into the air as she backed toward the kitchen door. “I’m sorry, Glenn. I just meant … I just don’t want to wait for you to lock up.”

Glenn nodded, his brow furrowed in confusion and worry. Alex loved him for accepting whatever she said. There was no way he could find out where she was headed.

“I’ll call you as soon as I know anything,” Alex said over her shoulder, fleeing into the night. Stumbling through the parking lot, she worked to swallow the bile filling her throat. Nothing was going right. She could only pray the fire had swallowed her secrets long before the fire department had arrived.

Why hadn’t she stayed longer at the mansion after her visit with the good professor?

* * *

The man staggered toward his car in the shadowed corner of a deserted parking lot. The cab the bartender called had dropped him off without a word. Enough money bought anyone’s silence. Besides, he didn’t intend to drive in this condition. His dinner, dessert and late night snack had been of the liquid variety. He’d sleep a few hours in the back seat of his car before heading home to his wife. She didn’t like it when he stayed out all night. She’d like it even less if she knew he was drinking again. Sobriety had been an infrequent guest in their marriage and every time the proverbial wagon arrived, she prayed he’d ride it into the sunset.

The crumpled pink slip in his front pocket had caused this particular fall. He wasn’t sure he’d be able to pull himself back up from the depths this time. Right now it didn’t matter. Nothing mattered except finding a quiet place to settle his tired bones. The alcohol rushing through his bloodstream made his head spin and his feet unsteady beneath him. The car keys in his hand had a mind of their own as he attempted to slot them into the door lock.

“You need some help?”

Though it was no more than a whisper in the darkness, the voice startled him. He turned in circles, finding nothing but deep shadows and the hiss of the wind. A cold trickle of fear snaked down his back. “Christ, now I’m hallucinating.” His heart pounded harder in his ears and he took great gulps of air, wishing it would clear his head. Focusing once again on the lock before him, he hoped the multiple keys swimming in his vision would miraculously find their way home.

The air hissed and moved around him though no wind rustled the leaves. Damn, maybe those last two shots of tequila had been an exceptionally bad idea. “Alone and hearing things, not a good sign.”

“That’s where you’re wrong.” The long fingers sliding down his arm belonged to the hard body pressed firmly to his back. Soft lips caressed his neck, behind his ear. “I’m no hallucination and you’re definitely not alone.” A silken tongue traced the length of his neck.

He tried to turn, but strong fingers held his chin.

“Who are you? What do you want?” His questions slurred through pickled lips. “My wallet’s in my back pocket. Take it. Take everything.”

The throaty chuckle sliding over his ear sent chills of fear down his spine. “I don’t want your money. I just thought we could spend an intimate moment together.” The gravelly voice hot on his skin was nondescript, but the strength of the grip on his chin and the press of the body holding him in place overpowered even his bulk.
What the hell?

“No …thanks … I … I’m married. Seriously, if you’re looking for money—”

“Oh, but you haven’t given me a chance.” The hand on his arm slid over his hip and palmed his crotch. “Who knows, you might actually enjoy this.”

The hand stroking him promised one thing, but even through his drunken stupor he could hear the sharp edge of violence riding on the stranger’s words.

“Thanks for the offer. But—”

Teeth grazed the tender flesh of his neck. “Aw, come on. Mr. Happy seems to like what I’m doing.”

Despite the panic jacking his heart
rate, his dick had managed to react to the pressure and heat pressing against his fly. “I’m not interested. My wife—”

“Trust me, she’ll never know.”

His world suddenly exploded into violent sensations overwhelming his senses. Tender hands became steel traps. One mercilessly squeezed his dick while the other fisted in his hair, yanking his head to the side. The sensual graze of teeth rose to an excruciating agony as something sliced deep, setting his throat on fire. Moans of pleasure from his attacker were drowned by his muted shrieks of pain. The silken tongue that had laved his throat so gently now sucked and slurped, matching the torturous throbs radiating from his neck. Liquid ran down his shoulder and onto his chest and even in the muddled wash of alcohol, he understood his life was being drained from him.

In a final attempt to save himself, he flailed his arms and legs against his tormentor’s body, but it had become a solid wall. Muscles turned to concrete and the iron grip of his captor’s hands pressed him firmly against the car. He attempted to draw breath, but couldn’t seem to completely fill his lungs to scream for help.

His world spun in dizzying circles of pain, pulling him down into a deep vortex of black.

* * *

Under the guise of looking for hot spots, Reese carried an axe through the charred remains of the second-floor master bedroom. Though most of the ceiling and the roof above him were missing, the pre-dawn blanket of stars winking through the thin clouds did nothing to illuminate the piles of debris littering the floor. He didn’t need the light on his shoulder, but it wouldn’t do for a fireman to search without it.

The exterior wall in front of him had been destroyed. The hint of dawn outlined the pines on the eastern horizon. Sunrise was only a couple of hours away. Not much time to find what they sought. Somewhere in the scorched wreckage of the professor’s mansion, Reese hoped to find some clue to the fires that plagued South Kenton.

One of only a handful of humans who knew about vampires, Paul Morgan had been secretly working with the tribunal. Everyone had hoped his work developing a blood alternative would be a huge step in the evolution of the vampire species. Though he’d never wanted to become immortal himself, the professor had spent his last years secretly helping creatures few humans believed existed. Vampire artifacts and religious symbols lay in the burnt ruins of the man’s office. Reese had no doubt the good professor had somehow attracted the attention of the rogue vamp who’d been committing murders over the last year and burying both victim and evidence in the ashes.

The how and why of the murderer’s motivation remained unclear. They still had no idea if it was a vamp or human targeting immortals hiding in the mountains. Though it seemed unreasonable to think humans could have discovered the vampire world after hundreds of years, Reese wasn’t ruling out the possibility. After all, the professor had known of their existence.

Though he didn’t expect anyone to be looking over his shoulder, Reese took a quick glance around before lifting a heavy beam with ease and moving it off of a file cabinet next to the scorched roll-top desk. Only Josh, Timmons and he were left to finish sifting through the mansion with the fire marshal. The rest of the guys had been called to a fatal car fire over an hour ago.