Allegiance (The Penton Vampire Legacy) (6 page)

Mirren helped Mark to his feet, and once he was sure the man wasn’t going to tumble over, he walked back to the others. “He’s gone, isn’t he?”

Aidan rose and wiped his blood-covered hands on a shop towel lying nearby. Krys had walked several yards away, where she stood next to a portion of the wall that was still intact.

“Yes.” Aidan picked up a brick and threw it as hard as he could down the hill, then hung his head. When he spoke again, his voice was subdued but under control. Aidan could suck down anger and grief better than any vampire Mirren had known in his long years—himself included. “How’s Mark?”

“Head wound, but he’s lucid.” Mirren looked at where Mark had been sitting in relation to the broken ladder. “I think he was on the ladder and got thrown free of the wall. Probably the only thing that saved him.”

Krys rejoined them, her face white as chalk in the harsh floodlight, her cheeks wet with tears. Her transition to vampire had been so smooth, Mirren tended to forget she’d been turned less than a year. She could still cry.

“I’m going to take Mark to the house instead of the clinic. I want him close tonight in case anything goes wrong. Maybe Max can stay with him during daysleep.” Krys rubbed her hands up and down her arms and looked at Rob. “I hate that the blood gets to me this way. I feel like some kind of monster—it’s obscene.”

Yeah, the blood scent was strong enough to make Mirren lightheaded, and he had about four hundred years’ more vampire experience than Krys. He grabbed a tarp from atop a pile of lumber and spread it over the body. Poor guy deserved at least that much dignity.

Krys’s eyes widened. “Oh my God. I just realized—we have to tell the colonel. And Randa’s going to blame herself for bringing Robbie into this.”

Aidan drew Krys into his arms, but he turned his gaze to Mirren. His light-blue eyes had gone winter white, and Mirren figured his own were an equally frigid shade of gray. Fury tended to have that effect.

“It was somebody’s fault, all right,” Mirren said. “But not Randa’s.”

“What do you mean?” Krys turned to look at Mirren, rubbing her eyes. Behind her, Aidan gave a slight shake of his head.

“Nothing, darlin’. All of this can be laid right at the feet of Matthias Ludlam, may he rot in hell by this time tomorrow.” Mirren dug his keys from the pocket of his black combat pants and held them out to Krys. “Take Max home with you; he doesn’t need to be here right now. Keep him busy. Hell, give them both something that’ll knock them out.”

“What about . . .” Krys took a deep breath. “Do we call an ambulance for Rob?”

“No. We’ll take care of it.” What a bad, bad idea: three vampires, sitting around waiting for human EMTs to show up and take away a body from a town that, by design, barely registered on human maps. Plus, the nearest emergency room was in Opelika, thirty miles away, which meant the Chambers County sheriff would have to get involved.

If Rob had still been alive, Mirren would’ve taken the risk. Calling them now wouldn’t help him, though, and probably would bring more trouble to their doorstep. They already had plenty.

Aidan kissed Krys before she got in Mirren’s Bronco. Max helped Mark into the backseat and then climbed in the passenger seat. He gave them a halfhearted wave as they drove away, and Mirren thought he’d never seen a more brokenhearted man.

Cage joined them, giving wide berth to Rob’s body. “I was looking at the structure from the back side. At least half of the anchors between the brick wall and the frame are missing.”

Not loose. Missing.

“Damn it. See anything else out of place? Don’t guess our visitor left a calling card.” Mirren led the others around to examine the building frame, which remained sturdy and solid. Even illuminated only by the floodlights, the holes in the wood were visible. He scraped a finger across one and turned his finger toward the light. “Mortar dust. Max insists the anchors were there when he and Rob checked the site last night; now, they’re gone.”

Cage squatted and felt around on the concrete foundation. “Wish we had a better light to see whether they’re still here or our saboteur took them.”

“Will this help?”

Mirren turned to see a man walking up the hill toward them, apparently leaving his recent-model white SUV on the shoulder of the road near the turnoff to the construction site. The newcomer was about six feet tall, human, and a stranger. Black shaggy hair, dark eyes, olive complexion, very white teeth, no fangs. Probably one of the new Rangers, but Mirren was making no assumptions.

“Who the hell are you?”

“A man with a light.” The man held up a key chain with a small flashlight hanging from it. “It’s not very big, but brighter than you might think. Depends on what you’re looking for.”

Mirren stared a second at the proffered hand before taking the key chain and tossing it to Cage. “Can’t hurt. If you’re one of our new Rangers, welcome to fuckin’ paradise. If you aren’t, you’re lost.”

The guy smiled. “You must be Mirren Kincaid. You’ll be pleased to know Colonel Thomas described you as a grizzly bear, only bigger. I’m Sergeant Nikolas Dimitrou—Nik—from the Texas Omega Force team. I’m supposed to check in with either Rob Thomas or Aidan Murphy.”

“I’m Murphy.” Aidan had been watching the exchange with narrowed eyes, sizing up the new guy. “Unfortunately, Captain Thomas was killed tonight. We were just about to discuss whether or not to call an ambulance. What do you think?”

Mirren didn’t know if Zorba the Greek realized he was getting his first test in vampire politics, but he crossed his arms and waited for the newcomer’s response. If he said that, of course, they needed an ambulance because the law required it, then he wasn’t ready to work with vampires. And if he thought Aidan sounded cold and dispassionate, he was a poor judge of character.

Nik introduced himself to Cage and shook hands with Aidan. “Normally you’d call an ambulance, but this isn’t a normal situation, is it?” He gave Aidan a steady, unflinching look and then shifted the same intense gaze over to Mirren. “Your eyes tell me how upset you are about this—both of you. The colonel put us through vampire basic training, you might call it.

“But this is Colonel Thomas’s son.” He looked down at the tarp. “I’d say if you have a place in town where the body can be preserved, it should be the colonel’s call on how to handle it. His sister lives here, too—Randa, right? The family should make the final decision. I can’t imagine the colonel would do anything to jeopardize Penton.”

The guy had balls, Mirren would give him that much. If he was uncomfortable standing around with three vampires who could all tell with a single sniff that he was unvaccinated, he didn’t show it. And he’d clearly done his homework on his new fellow citizens.

Mirren had been trying to place Zorba’s accent, which was sort of Southern but with an odd turn to it. Finally, it hit him. “You from New Orleans?”

Nik grinned. “First generation Yat. Grew up in Broadmoor. And now, I guess I live in Penton.”

Aidan’s smile was slight, but genuine. “Welcome to town, Nik—wish the circumstances were better. I’m guessing the colonel will need to reassess things here before deciding your chain of command. One other Ranger is here—Max Jeffries—although he and Rob were tight. I don’t know how he’s going to react. Another guy from your unit is due in tonight. Mirren’s in charge of training unless we hear differently, and we’ll wait to see if the colonel has a mission for you.”

“Penton is our mission for now, as I understand it.” Nik cocked his head and looked at Aidan with a bemused smile. “So my Omega team member isn’t here yet?”

“Guy named Ashton,” Mirren said. “The dickhead’s already late.”

“No he isn’t. His timing is perfect.”

Mirren swiveled at the voice coming from somewhere behind him and scowled as a girl approached them from the woods behind the construction site. No, not a girl, but a woman. A tiny woman who couldn’t be a hair over five feet. She was slender, with short spiky hair that glinted auburn in the floodlights, big dark eyes, jeans, and a tight T-shirt that revealed an inch of tanned skin and the glint of a navel ring.

What the hell was a human woman doing out here, in the woods?

He looked back at Dimitrou, who stood next to Cage, their arms crossed over their chests and smiles on their faces. Aidan, at least, looked properly concerned, unlike Tweedle-dee and Zorba.

Sometimes a little fright therapy was a valid psychiatric treatment, as he was sure the shrink would know if he hadn’t been standing there like a fucktard.

“Who the hell are you?” Mirren took a step toward the woman. “You need a ride back to the sorority house?”

She grinned and walked to within a foot of him; he had an inexplicable urge to take a step back. He’d be damned if that was going to happen.

He pinned her with his Slayer expression, which alone had driven many lesser men to their knees, including vampires. She frowned at him and didn’t answer.

Mirren took another step toward her. “I’ll talk slower so you can understand, lady. Who. The. Hell. Are. You?”

The woman’s chin didn’t even reach Mirren’s sternum, so from her close vantage point she had to crane her neck to look him squarely in the eye—which she did.

“I’m Ashton, a.k.a. the dickhead,” she said in a drawl that had “smartass” written all over it. “And I am your worst fucking nightmare.”

  
CHAPTER 5
  

C
age coughed in an unsuccessful attempt to camouflage the laugh that started deep in his gut and bubbled out before he could stop it. Mirren’s expression morphed in quick succession from intimidation to disbelief to outrage. Bloody priceless.

The laughter faded fast, however, when Krys returned with the Bronco, backing it up to the edge of the job site. It was a sobering reminder of why they were standing there, and what—or who—lay under that blue tarp. Cage was surprised at his own reaction. He hadn’t known Rob well, but he’d been a genuinely good man. The people of Penton were good people, whether human or vampire. None of them deserved this.

If Cage could find the saboteur, he’d kill him. If it turned out to be his old “friend” Fen Patrick, he’d kill him slowly. While Fen had given him no cause to be suspicious, the man had been a very good operative as a human soldier of fortune. Good enough for Cage to have shared his own identity with Fen all those years ago instead of killing him, so he could keep him as a partner. And good enough for Cage to not quite trust him now.

Rob was a serious loss. Cage had met a lot of battle veterans but never one more able to fit in with anyone—vampire or human—so he couldn’t imagine Rob being the target. Besides, everybody in town had worked on the site at one time or another, so no one could’ve known he’d be there, standing at that place, at that time.

The tableau at the construction site remained static during the somber business of death. Krys and Aidan wrapped Rob’s body in a heavy utility blanket from the back of Mirren’s Bronco, and Aidan gently carried him to the truck and placed his body in the back. They’d likely be taking him to the Penton Clinic, where the town’s minuscule morgue thankfully lay in the half of the building that still had electricity.

The newcomer, Ashton—was that a first or last name?—had remained in her face-off with Mirren, although she’d taken a couple of steps back and kept her mouth shut while they moved Rob’s body. Cage was pretty sure she hadn’t moved away from Mirren out of fear. More likely, she wanted the ability to glare at him without craning her neck. Her fierce expression hadn’t relaxed one iota. This little spitfire soldier was like a mini-Slayer, and watching the two together would be worthy of an expensive ringside seat.

Mirren Kincaid was six feet eight inches of muscle and bad attitude, and Cage would wager few had ever spoken to him the way the girl had. At least not and lived to tell about it.

Cage glanced at Nik, who was biting his lower lip and not doing a very good job of hiding his own amusement, despite the fact that Aidan and Krys hadn’t even reached the bottom of the hill with their solemn cargo. “Is she always like this?”

Nik gave a slow shake of the head. “Negative. Not at all.” He paused. “Sometimes she’s worse.”

This time, Cage couldn’t stop the smile that spread across his face. “This is going to be fun, as long as we stay out of the way.”

“I can fucking hear you, Reynolds.” Mirren growled at Cage over his shoulder, but kept his eyes pinned on the girl. Woman, Cage should say, although she was so diminutive next to the Scottish behemoth, it was hard not to see her as a waif. Probably accounted for her Mirren-like attitude. Short-man syndrome, so to speak.

Mirren’s hands balled into fists, and if the man had still been human, his face would have turned about six ugly shades of pissed off. Cage couldn’t see the big guy’s face, but he’d bet those gray eyes had gone from thunderstorm to snowstorm.

“The colonel has lost his fucking mind.” Mirren’s voice dropped about an octave. “What could you possibly do to help us here?”

She propped her hands on her hips, gave Mirren a slow, sultry once-over with more than a little come-hither in her expression, and lowered her voice—but not so low that Cage couldn’t hear. “I can do things to you that are beyond your wildest dreams, vampire.”

“Uh-oh,” Nik muttered under his breath. “She’s gonna blow.”

If Cage hadn’t been afraid Mirren would turn his wrath on the nearest safe target—him, in other words—he would’ve explained to Nik that Mirren was showing uncharacteristic restraint, and if anyone was going to violently break the stalemate it would be the big guy. He figured the only reason Mirren had held his temper in check so far was that he’d gotten used to mouthy women. His mate, Glory, was a talker. She also wasn’t the least bit intimidated by her big vampire and, in fact, had him pretty well tamed. Cage would not be sharing that opinion with the Slayer, however.

“Little girl, I suggest you walk back into whatever hole in the woods you crawled out of.” Mirren’s voice dropped even lower and softer. Funny how, on some people, a soft voice was more menacing than a shout. “In the morning, the colonel can reassign you to a more fitting place. I don’t care what you turn into—squirrel, otter . . .” He gave her a head-to-toe once-over and waved his hand in a dismissive gesture. “Chipmunk.”

Nik groaned and looked at the ground. “Oh man.”

Ashton took a step toward Mirren, craning her neck again. “And where might that more fitting place be, Mirren Kincaid? Oh, don’t look surprised. I did my homework. Where is it you think I belong in this man’s army? On my back?”

Mirren shrugged. “Probably, but don’t spread your legs on my account, honey.”

The air around them crackled with tension, and even Cage thought Mirren had gone a step too far. He opened his mouth to suggest that Nik take Ashton far, far away for the evening and start fresh at dusk tomorrow, maybe with a referee. He froze at her expression, though. She was grinning, dark eyes alight with mirth and a look Cage recognized all too well. The undeniable, addictive power of the adrenaline rush. Ashton was having fun.

Clearly, the woman was insane. She was suicidal. She was . . . superb.

With a screech that would do a banshee proud, she ran at Mirren headfirst. If Cage hadn’t heard the man’s
oof
and been knocked off-balance himself when Mirren fell ass over teakettle, he’d have sworn he’d hallucinated the whole thing.

“Told ya,” mumbled Nik, who’d stepped out of the way with nimble speed.

A burst of pain erupted on Cage’s cheek, followed by the trickle of blood streaming toward his neck. Damn, but that little woman could throw a punch. Unfortunately, she was throwing them so hard and fast, she’d clocked him as well as Mirren.

Cage rolled out of the line of fire and took the outstretched hand Nik offered. “That woman is barking mad.” Cage rubbed his jaw, amazed that Mirren was fending off blows but not striking back.

Nik nodded. “As a hatter.”

Finally, breathing hard from either fists or fury, or both, the woman stopped her assault. She sat astride Mirren, looking down at him with a frown. “Why the fuck won’t you fight back? Afraid of being beat by a sorority girl? It’s no fun if you don’t fight back.”

Cage waited for it. The name-calling. Maybe a backhand to show Ashton what the Slayer was made of—which, even from his prone position, would send her flying. The lesson-teaching that was sure to follow.

Instead, the choked noise Mirren uttered was one it took a moment for Cage to recognize because he’d never heard it from the man. Didn’t think it was possible. Mirren Kincaid was laughing.

His voice even sounded different—lighter, amused. “What the hell are you, Ashton?”

She climbed off him and rose to her full height, which wasn’t much. “Eagle shifter. And a damn good tracker. And stronger than you fang-faces can imagine. Plus, I can fly. So don’t fuckin’ mess with me.”

Mirren rolled to his feet with surprising grace for a man his size and rubbed his face. The fingers he drew from his mouth were covered in blood from multiple scratches, and there appeared to be tooth marks along his jawline. “You got a first name?”

Ashton squinted up at Mirren a few heartbeats. “It’s Robin.”

An eagle named Robin. Bloody brilliant. Cage opened his mouth to comment but caught an elbow in the ribs from Nik, who gave a slight shake of his head.

Right. Don’t tease the eagle about her name.

Mirren seemed to have reached the same conclusion, since he bypassed any comment about ironic names. “Guess you’ll work out after all, Ashton. Gonna have to find a new place for you to crash, though. Since the colonel didn’t say you were a girl”—Cage saw Robin’s eyebrow take a dangerous spike at that, but Mirren was oblivious—“I’d planned to put you and Zorba in a room together.”

“That’s fine.” Robin ran her fingers through her short, spiky hair, and Cage tracked the movement. Such delicate fingers in hands that held such power. “We sleep together half the time anyway.”

“Aw, shit,” Nik huffed out under his breath. “I swear that woman has no filter.”

Interesting. “And where do you sleep the other half of the time, little bird?”

The words came out before Cage could stop them, which he instantly regretted. Talk about no filters; his were usually a mile high, but they seemed to have suddenly vaporized.

He’d been off Robin Ashton’s radar during her preoccupation with Mirren. Now, however, she stepped away from Mirren and looked at him. Really looked. Cage felt naked, as if she could see way more than he’d ever intended to share. When had he developed such a big mouth?

“You asking me to sleep with you the rest of the time, vampire?”

Oh yeah, Robin definitely had him on her radar. She edged past Mirren and approached Cage with a gait more feline than avian, and he was aware of Mirren crossing his arms over his chest, probably relieved to have her focused on someone else. “What’s your name, Brit Boy? You’re kind of pretty, and I’ve never done a vampire.”

Cage opened his mouth to suggest she give doing him a try, and then closed it again. He had a feeling Robin Ashton could complicate his life way more than he wanted. And maybe kill him in the process. Plus, he was swearing off romantic entanglements. He still had one to wrangle his way out of.

“Congratulations, Ashton.” Mirren suddenly seemed to be enjoying himself. “You managed to shut up our resident shrink, something no one else in Penton has ever been able to do. Cage Reynolds is his name, and I do think he’s afraid of you.”

“Don’t be daft.” Cage’s bravado didn’t sound very convincing, even to himself. She did scare the hell out of him, and not for any reasons he cared to examine.

“A shrink, huh? You’re interesting, Cage Reynolds.” Robin smiled at him—not the predatory show of teeth she’d given Mirren while threatening to eat him alive, but something almost sweet, a touch tentative. The edges of his mouth rose in an involuntary response.

Shit. What was he doing? Whatever, it was time to stop. “If you and Nik are a couple, we shouldn’t have to change the living arrangements.”

Awkward transition, but it broke the moment. Robin felt it, too, judging by her startled blink. “Right. We’re not . . . we’re just . . . convenient. Niko?” She frowned at something past Cage’s shoulder, and he looked behind him.

Nik had left them to kneel next to the pile of bricks from the collapsed wall. He clutched one in his hand, his dark eyes looking at something a million miles away, not unlike the million-yard stare soldiers developed after too much combat.

Mirren joined them, the three of them standing in a row like see-no-evil monkeys, watching Nik as he looked at . . . what?

“Don’t tell me he’s a head case,” Mirren said. “What the hell’s wrong with him?”

“Hush.” Robin’s voice was soft and her expression worried. “Give him a couple of minutes. The faster he does this, the less painful it is for him.”

Whatever “it” was. But Cage had seen that kind of unfocused stare before, on the face of their little child vampire Hannah, when she was having one of her visions. If he had to guess, their new friend Nik might not be as much of a plain-vanilla human as he’d originally thought.

God knows Robin Ashton wasn’t plain-vanilla anything—though her protectiveness of her “convenient” bedmate Nik was another sign of the sweetness he’d glimpsed earlier. They might not be a couple, but she cared about him. It showed in the softened lines of her face, the worry that darkened her eyes.

A few more seconds passed before Nik began picking up bricks one at a time, holding each one for a few seconds and then tossing it aside. He still hadn’t spoken.