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Authors: Michael Weinberger

Blood Harvest (9 page)

BOOK: Blood Harvest
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“Enough with the seduction—it won’t work on someone who knows what you are doing and doesn’t want to be taken in.”

“Of course, I know that. Maybe I hoped you wouldn’t want to stop me.”

She was right. Steve couldn’t believe how difficult it was to make himself stop her, but he continued to gently push her hand away from his body.

He released his grip and Lei let her hand fall to her side. “You should talk to him Steve, patch things up and come home where you belong.” Now Lei spoke with the authority and control Steve knew she possessed. “He’s here in Los Angeles.”

“What?!?” The shock of that final statement caused Steve to take a step back.

“I said…”

“I know what you said! What do you mean he’s here? Is he responsible for what happened tonight at
The Inferno
?!?”

“You know better than that. He’s nothing if not subtle.”

Steve was fuming, though he knew that was true. Overtness of any kind was not part of “his” makeup.

A shape sped past them and with it Steve could feel a certain amount of heat diminish from the surrounding area. Being startled invoked his reflexes and he instinctively drew his gun. He could hear Lei take in a gasp of air as she saw the weapon.

“What are you doing?!? Put that away!” Lei commanded, but Steve ignored her as his eyes scanned in between rows of parked cars for any sign of the figure that flashed past him and Lei. He heard the sound of footsteps and when Steve turned back, he saw Lei running off toward the parking garage’s exit stairs. He looked at the firearm in his hand, then up at Lei running from him; all the old feelings came rushing back to him and filled his core with regret. Just as he was about to holster his gun and call out to Lei, the shadows came to life all around him.

The shape that emerged was a man, large and coming quickly from the side. Steve whirled around and brought his gun up to fire, but the man launched himself over an impossible distance, landed next to Steve and wrenched the gun from his grasp. Steve immediately sent a right-cross to the man’s face which was effortlessly parried and countered with a powerful sidekick to Steve’s ribs sending him reeling. Briefly airborne as he was propelled from the impact of the kick, he landed about fifteen feet away from where he’d been standing. He didn’t feel any ribs snap but he did have the wind knocked out of him. Landing prone, Steve righted himself and rose to one knee, hoping the man would be cautious before charging in to finish the job. Steve placed a hand on his knee and tried to regain his breath as he looked up and directly at his assailant. The one especially distinguishing feature about the man was a full head of snow-white hair extending down to the middle of his back.

“Ah crap Alpha,” Steve complained, “did you have to hit me so hard?”

The man called Alpha stood about twenty feet away with his side to Steve looking at something he was holding with both hands. When Alpha turned to face him Steve could see his flask gently resting in the grasp of Alpha’s left hand.

“It was you who drew the gun on me, boy. You know how I feel about those things.” Alpha’s voice was unnaturally low and Steve had never known if it was an affectation the man had adopted or if it were genuine; regardless, the eerie effect remained the same.

Steve rose to his feet and the man abruptly straightened to his full height. The two simply stared at each other for a moment before Steve let out an exasperated sigh.

“Didn’t work much when I asked Lei, but what are you doing here Alpha?”

The man called Alpha cocked his head as if confused by the question. “Last time I checked, this was a free country where people could go as they wished.”

“Don’t be evasive, just tell me why you’re here. And I mean why you are here now, at this moment, and if you have anything to do with what happened tonight.”

Instead of answering, Alpha unscrewed the top of the flask and sniffed the contents. His face screwed up into a look of disgust then he looked back to Steve.

“Please don’t tell me you are using French wine.”

“Just as you taught me…”

“I didn’t teach you that. I used to use that swill because it was all I had available to me at the time.”

“It’s not all bad.”

Alpha seemed to consider this. “True, but apparently the type you can afford on a Detective’s salary turns the mix into something more akin to hog piss.” Alpha tossed the flask away and then pulled a large syringe out of a lining in his black jacket. “There’s an easier way you know.”

Rage filled Steve as he recognized the syringe and the contents within.

“Never! You son of a bitch! How dare you even show that to me!”

Alpha smiled. “Still upset I see?” Alpha rolled up his sleeve, pushed the needle into the fleshy part of his forearm and injected the entire contents of the syringe into himself. Steve caught himself staring at the entire process and felt his body writhe with longing for the now empty syringe’s former contents.

“God’s eyes boy, I don’t know why you do this to yourself. Your stubbornness will only ruin you in the end.”

“I know your secret Alpha. You may have fooled the rest of the clan into believing you are some kind of benevolent leader, but I saw how you make your little cocktail and what you will do to keep it safe.”

Alpha’s demeanor deflated when he heard these words. “I have wanted to explain to you what you saw that night for years, but you’ve never given me the opportunity. At first I thought it was simply because you were afraid of me, but now I see that it isn’t fear that keeps you away.”

“No?”


“No. You feel betrayed. If for nothing else, then for that I am terribly sorry.”

Steve was struck by the apology; he hadn’t expected it, but the rage he felt overwhelmed the other emotions welling up inside him.

“It’s a little too late for apologies and even if it weren’t, it certainly doesn’t change anything.”

“No it doesn’t,” Alpha agreed. “So where does that leave us?”

“It leaves me as a Detective with the Los Angeles Police Department and you a suspect in an ongoing investigation.”

Alpha tilted his head slightly, almost as if to stifle a laugh, then he began to turn his back and walk away.

“Don’t you move!” Steve tried to say with authority, but it came out more like a request than a command. Alpha froze. His back was now to Steve. As he looked over his right shoulder Steve spoke. “You can’t just leave.”

“Oh?”

“No. You need to answer some questions.”

“That would be fine. After all, I came here to talk…”

“No, not about our past Alpha. You are not under arrest at this point, but I need you to answer some questions, specifically about what you and Lei are doing here at this particular time. I am well aware it isn’t simply to talk to me.”

Alpha apparently had no response as he remained silent and motionless.

You can tell me here or back at the station.” Steve began to reach for his back-up pistol, the one he had in an ankle holster.

“No. I don’t think so.” The man’s head shifted slightly as Steve silently drew the revolver and pointed it at Alpha’s back.

“It isn’t a request,” Steve said calmly as he fingered off the gun’s safety.

“It should have been,” Alpha said angrily in a voice that had changed into something more primitive and guttural.

Alpha suddenly spun and jumped toward the left of the garage wall. Steve didn’t want to shoot, but realized he might not have a choice as Alpha now leapt off the wall and launched himself directly at Steve. Before Steve had a chance to comprehend what was happening Alpha had closed the gap between them. Using his left hand, Alpha slapped the revolver out of Steve’s grip. With his right hand he snatched Steve by the throat. Alpha’s grip was incredibly strong; it felt as though he had been grabbed by some kind of hydraulic vise as opposed to a man’s hand.

Steve brought his hands up to his throat but Alpha slammed his left fist into Steve’s solar plexus forcing all of the remaining air from his lungs. An incredible pressure had built up under his lower jaw as his entire body weight was being supported by the one-handed grip around his throat. He couldn’t breathe and his vision was getting blurry. He scratched, kicked and clawed as best he could, but he had already grown so weak he doubted the effort was going to help.

“You are going to have to start respecting your betters, boy,” Alpha hissed softly as he bent his arm to pull Steve in close.

Though his voice was little more than a wheeze Steve managed, “Let me know when they arrive.”


Steve struck Alpha hard in the throat with the webbing between his thumb and index finger, pressing upward and forward directly on the cartilage below Alpha’s adam's apple. In any other case Steve knew the strike would have been lethal, crushing the cartilage and collapsing the trachea, such that the person on the receiving end would suffocate. Steve knew that in Alpha’s case it would only be a mild annoyance. Truly, Steve was aware of just how out-classed he was when it came to confronting Alpha. Even with everything Alpha had taught him and all he had since learned at the Police academy there was no comparison between them.

But that didn’t mean he wouldn’t fight back.

Alpha had regained his footing and held his arms out at his side.

“So this is what we have come to?”

Steve didn’t answer as he quickly glanced in each direction to see if there was anyone who might be a witness to what was happening. Not seeing anyone, he dropped to the ground and lifted a cinder block which had been lying in a pile of garbage next to the parking garage wall. As Steve rose he threw the concrete block at Alpha with considerably less difficulty than it should have taken to cover the ten yard separation between the two of them. Alpha didn’t try to duck out of the way or dodge; instead he looked bored as the projectile closed the distance on its deadly path. Then, at the last possible moment, Alpha raised his fist and struck the airborne cinder block as it reached him with such force it caused the block to explode in a cloud of small fragments and grey dust.

Initially, Steve felt a surge of panic when Alpha wasn’t trying to get out of the way of the block. He had hurled it in anger and the reality that it might actually strike Alpha sent a terrifying concern through him. After Alpha had shattered the block, Steve felt slightly relieved and frankly impressed at the sheer spectacle of power his one time mentor showed…until reality set in that the fight was not yet over.

Steve lunged forward and began landing blow after blow to Alpha’s body and face with a determination that should have been bone-splintering with every impact. Steve had always had to hold back whenever he trained with the other members of the Police Department. He possessed enough strength to cripple a man with a single well-placed punch. Now he held nothing back. Steve let loose with everything he had, but Alpha’s body barely rocked as each fist landed.

Steve kept the punches coming, but he soon realized he was tiring. His knuckles had begun to bleed while Alpha looked no worse and even seemed to be bored. Less than a minute later Steve knew he didn’t have the remaining strength to keep his arms up. He looked into Alpha’s eyes, glowing in their bright yellow amber color.

“So,” Alpha said mockingly, “you done?”

Steve was completely out of breath and could hardly speak.

“We…we haven’t…even started…yet” Steve barely managed.

Alpha shook his head in what seemed to be more disappointment than anything else.

“No boy, we’re done…at least for tonight.” Alpha balled his fist and held it up next to Steve’s cheek. “Sleep well.”

“Oh crap,” was the only thought passing through Steve’s mind before the blackness enveloped him.

Chapter 9

Pain was the first sensation to return as Steve regained consciousness. It was as if the entire physical world was comprised of nothing but pain. He believed even his thoughts were hurting him as he strained to open his eyes to the realization he was lying in a large pile of garbage. Unfortunately, the next sense to return was the sense of smell which, in combination with the pain, created an extremely nauseating reality.

Instinctively, Steve rolled away from the putrid odor although the action didn’t diminish the smell all that much. It did, however, successfully increase his pain to the point where he couldn’t hold back the nausea. He managed to clamor to all fours before the violent contractions sent what little he had in his stomach into the mound of trash surrounding him. When the spasms finally stopped he extended one groping hand in search of something he could brace himself with and support his attempt to climb to his feet. Most of his bodily pains had subsided to only a mild roar after the retching, although his head was still throbbing explosively. In his disorientation the word “concussion” flew across his mind a couple of times, but in this tenuous state he didn’t pay it much attention.

Touching his face and the sore spots along his jaw and cheekbones, hazy memories began to return. Carefully trying to stand, the pain and nausea came back with flooding swiftness. He placed the flat of his back against an unexpected wall and slowly slid down to a seated position so as not to fall. That’s when Steve realized he was in a dumpster, probably the one outside his apartment building.

BOOK: Blood Harvest
8.82Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
ads

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