Black Rook (20 page)

He glanced at her, surprise in the arch of his dark eyebrows. “Thank you. I must admit, Ms. Atwood, when I heard about how you tracked down Rook based on a vision, I was a little impressed myself.”

A blush warmed her cheeks.

“A little jealous, too,” he continued. “Makes me wonder if my computer skills are sharp enough to do the same thing.”

“I think we can do anything we set our minds to, given the proper motivation.”

He seemed to consider that. “Makes sense. Guess that’s why I got the location list together so fast. Knight and Rook are important to me.”

Of course they were important. “They’re the Alpha’s sons.”

“And they’re my friends.”

Brynn felt foolish for not thinking of that, but she knew little about how run politics worked. The Alpha had a group of trusted enforcers who seemed to act as both bodyguards and personal assistants—investigators, too, if her experience with O’Bannen was any indication. She hadn’t yet added “friend” into that cluster of descriptors.

I have so much yet to learn.

Their brief conversation ended. Brynn silently recited names and dates of famous battles of the Civil War during the rest of the drive in order to keep her mind occupied. Being an ex-tutor had advantages when it came to retention of random trivia. Otherwise, she’d begin imaging scenarios they might find once they arrived, and none of them had happy endings. Once she’d made it through the Civil War, she listed all of the presidents in reverse order, including term dates, just to challenge herself. She made it all the way to James Madison when the first sign for Leitersburg flashed by the side of the highway.

“We’re almost there,” O’Bannen said.

The Qwik-Mart was closed, all but one security light switched off. It was almost midnight, and the station looked like it saw forty customers on a busy day, so this didn’t surprise her. O’Bannen pulled up in front of the grimy pay phone, then jumped out to call McQueen and tell him they’d gotten this far. The conversation was quiet and only lasted half a minute. When O’Bannen got back into the car, he had a confident twist to his mouth—not quite a smile, but more than the intense frown he’d worn all night.

“I can smell Knight,” he said. “He’s been here, too. I think we’re on the right track.”

“What do we do next?”

“Get as close as we can to the trailer and see what’s what, who’s where. We’re not to engage unless we’re made.”

“Engage with what? Witty sarcasm?”

He snorted, then reached into the backseat. He brought a black duffel bag over into the front and dropped it between them. Something heavy and metal clanked inside. “Ever fired a .22 before?” he asked.

Guns. He wanted her to fire a gun. She’d never even seen one up close, much less fired one. “Do water pistols count?”

He gave her a look, then shook his head. “Pray we don’t get made.”

“Gladly.”

***

Rook was numb from head to toe. His physical wounds had stopped hurting a while ago, overtaken by the agony radiating from his heart until even that petered out into a single, overwhelming press. He didn’t know how much time had passed. He strained to listen through the white noise blocking out the world. He tested his nose, but he’d long ago lost the ability to smell anything except bleach. His eyes were numb. Even his precious song lyrics had fled his pain-addled mind.

Silver poisoning.

Much longer and he’d be in serious trouble. His wrists wore bracelets of ragged, blistered, weeping flesh. The silver had sunk into the grooves, giving it direct contact with his bloodstream. Sooner or later, it would go to his heart. Cardiac arrest. Death.

Knight had come for him, and he was going to die anyway. All for nothing.

The bedroom door squealed open. Female laughter trickled out. Acid scorched the back of Rook’s throat. He couldn’t get his head to turn far enough to look. The door shut again.

“Still alive I see.” Fiona slapped the back of Rook’s head. Pain exploded behind his eyes.

“Be nice, sister,” Victoria said.

Sister. That was new.

Fiona circled around in front of him and squatted down. She wavered there, a mirage in the desert. “I suppose we should get rid of him now, as we promised. We have what we want, after all.”

Victoria giggled, a sound that raked down Rook’s spine like a blade. “We certainly do. Pity. He’s kind of cute, too, in a rock star sort of way.”

“He’s extra baggage we don’t need.”

“True.”

Fiona stood up and walked over to the door. Opened it just a few inches, then paused. “Go clean up, Victoria. When you’re done, drain this one so he doesn’t have a fit when we leave with his brother. I’m going to dump Knight’s car. I’ll be back for you in thirty minutes. Be ready.”

“I will.”

After Fiona left, Victoria trotted into the rear of the trailer. Another door opened and shut. Water ran.

If she drained him again, he wouldn’t survive the silver poisoning. They never intended to let him go. He wished Knight had understood that, hadn’t tried to fight for him. He loved his brother for trying, knew he would always try. No matter what. And Brynn. He’d never get to know Brynn any better. See her smile again.

The water shut off. The bathroom door opened and shut.

Somewhere outside the trailer, a wolf howled.

Rook raised his head, as if he could look right through the wall and see the source. He knew the cadence of that howl. A signal.

The cavalry had arrived.

Chapter Thirteen

Despite the order to only engage if they were made, an opportunity presented itself when the black-haired woman opened the trailer door before finishing her conversation. That mistake gave Brynn and O’Bannen just enough information to formulate a fast plan.

After finding the trailer park, they’d parked behind a cluster of unruly bushes next to number twenty-six, armed themselves—Brynn had felt somewhat foolish tucking a pistol into the waistband of her borrowed shorts—then taken off on foot. Number thirty-one was empty. This close to midnight, the entire park was dark, silent. She stayed hidden while he sneaked close enough to overhear the discussion, and then came back. By the time Knight’s car passed by them, being driven by a dark-haired woman who was not in Brynn’s visions, O’Bannen had already begun the process of undressing and shifting.

The plan was simple: draw the single hostile outside and attack. In beast form, O’Bannen would be quieter, faster, and fiercer. Beast loup garou had battled and destroyed hundreds of vampires. One shouldn’t be a problem.

Brynn just hoped he was right.

While he was fighting, her job was to get inside and find the brothers. She could do that. She
would
do that. Rook needed her.

Avesta, hear your daughter. Watch over us.

O’Bannen shook himself out, and Brynn took in the sight of a two-hundred-pound black wolf with glimmering copper eyes. He was larger than the average wolf, with thicker muscles and longer teeth. Teeth he bared in what looked like a horrific sort of smile.

“Good luck,” she whispered.

He ducked his head in a nod, then loped off to take position. Brynn scooted around to the back of the trailer, giving herself a good view of thirty-two’s front door. She crouched in a shadow and waited.

O’Bannen’s howl pierced the quiet night. Far away, someone’s yappy dog started a ruckus. A shadow moved inside the white and turquoise trailer. The door opened and the teenage vampire from Brynn’s vision slipped out onto the cement steps. The vampire glanced around, a born predator observing the darkness for her prey. Brynn shifted, just enough movement to gain the vampire’s attention.

Light from the interior of the trailer glinted off fangs, and then the vampire moved. Her speed was incredible, her path aimed directly for Brynn, and Brynn had a brief flash of panic. A scream stuck in her throat. And then a blur of black fur crashed into the vampire, and the two tumbled into the grass together.

Brynn bolted. She didn’t look back, didn’t think about the fight. She raced for the trailer, tripped on the first step, and went sprawling inside onto hard, industrial carpet that burned her palms and knees. The awful stink of bleach made her stomach somersault. She pushed up to her feet, then yelped when she saw Rook.

“Oh Avesta, no.”

He looked like he’d been beaten up while he had the flu. His skin was pasty white and his tattoos stood out like ink stains on a sheet. His throat and wrists were raw and bleeding and quite possibly infected. Rage filled her at the sight of him, followed by an intense need to hurt the person responsible for his pain.

She reached for the silver coils first and began to unloop them. He cried out once, but didn’t seem entirely aware of her presence. Silver was poisonous to loup garou, and she had no idea how long he’d been exposed. Too long, if his wounds were any indication. The rope and tape were harder. She found a knife in one of the kitchen drawers and used it to release the rest of Rook’s bindings. The last thing to go was the duct tape on his mouth, which came off quickly and left his lips raw.

She squatted in front of him and took his face in her hands. His skin was cold, eyes glowing with fever. “Rook, it’s Brynn. Can you hear me? Rook?”

He blinked hard and seemed to try to see her. “How?”

“It’s a long story, and I won’t be able to tell you if we don’t get out of here.” She couldn’t hear anything else inside the cabin—or outside, for that matter, which concerned her.

“Knight,” he slurred. “Back room.”

“Okay, I’ll be right back.”

She sprinted down the short hallway to the last door. It wasn’t locked, and she shoved it open. The undersized room was barely large enough for the double bed inside it. Like the rest of the trailer, the room reeked of bleach. She looked behind the door, confused by the room’s lack of occupants—until the lump of blankets on the bed shifted. She pulled them off and uncovered a bound and gagged Knight.

Fresh puncture wounds stood out on his neck, no longer bleeding but not yet scabbed over. Below the wounds was a length of silver chain that she unwrapped and flung away. The skin beneath was raised and pink, but not yet blistered, so the silver had been a recent addition. His ankles were bound with several layers of duct tape, and his wrists with even more. Another piece of tape covered his mouth. He was shirtless, his chest covered in ugly red scratch marks, and his wide eyes were pleading with her to hurry up and get him out of here.

The teacher in her wanted to scold him for running off to the rescue and not telling anyone he’d left. The concerned quasi-friend apologized before ripping the tape off his mouth.

“Is Rook alive?” he asked.

“He’s sick, but he’s alive. I’ll be right back.”

She fetched the knife, pausing only long enough to confirm Rook hadn’t fallen out of his chair, then went back to cut Knight loose. Knight lurched off the bed and was out of the room before she could even think to follow. He crouched in front of Rook’s chair and pulled his brother forward into a hug, whispering words she couldn’t hear. The sight made her chest ache with unidentified emotion.

Brynn went to the door and peered out into the gloom. The ground was torn up next to the other trailer, but she didn’t see the combatants.

“What’s the exit strategy?” Knight asked.

She turned and jumped, surprised to find the brothers standing behind her. Knight’s arm was looped around Rook’s waist, Rook’s arm over Knight’s shoulders, supporting each other. Rook was on his feet and seemed less likely to pass out, even if he couldn’t handle fighting a kitten right now. She wanted to be the one holding Rook, but Knight was stronger. He could protect Rook better than she.

“We have a car six trailers down,” she said, pointing. “We run.”

Rook blanched. “Run?”

“Who’s here with you?” Knight asked.

“O’Bannen. He’s fighting the vampire.”

Knight’s eyebrows jumped, but he didn’t comment. “I’m going to get Rook to the car.”

“I’ll be right behind you.” She pulled the .22 out of her waistband and slid the safety back exactly as she’d been shown. “Go.”

She gave them a three-second head start, then followed. A furious screech and a canine whine made her stumble and change direction to the rear of number thirty-one. In the backyard gloom, she almost tripped over a large furry lump.

“No.” She crouched down and brushed blood-matted fur away from O’Bannen’s eyes and muzzle. He licked her hand and whined. Huffed a breath. “They’re safe. I found them.”

One copper eye rolled toward her. The lid dropped down. He huffed again, then stopped breathing altogether. Tears choked her as a deep sense of loss settled in her heart—loss of a loup garou she’d known less than a day. Another senseless death in the chaos of her life now. Beneath the loss she felt something new rise up. A deep need for vengeance in O’Bannen’s name.

“I’m so sorry.”

As she stood on unsteady legs, she studied the rest of the yard. Blood darkened the ground here and there, but she saw no sign of the wounded vampire. As much as she hated leaving the monster alive and leaving O’Bannen behind, getting out of here with the brothers was her priority. She’d see this plan through.

She broke for the car at a frantic run, threw open the driver’s side door and scrambled inside. Rook and Knight were in the backseat, and that’s what mattered. She turned the key and the engine roared to life.

“Where’s O’Bannen?” Knight asked.

She threw the gear into reverse, ignoring the blood she was smearing all over the interior. “Dead. He’s dead, and we have to get out of here before the other woman comes back.”

They didn’t argue or comment while she concentrated on speeding out of the trailer park and back to the highway. As her adrenaline waned, exhaustion set in. Her head pounded, and grief blurred her vision.

Knight slid forward and squeezed her shoulder. “Brynn, we need to stop for a while and rest. You need it, and Rook needs it, too.”

“Soon. We need to get farther away first, then we can stop.”

“Do you want me to drive?”

“Can’t stop. Need to get farther away.”