Demon's Kiss (30 page)

Glancing left and then right, Vixen spied a satin robe hanging from a hook on the wall, and she went to it, then quickly pulled it around her. It was far too big—Gregor's, no doubt—but at least it covered her. Then she went to the cage. It was perhaps four feet square, its tiny door padlocked. Inside there was a bowl of some sort of meat made into a distasteful looking hash, and another one filled with water. No utensils.

Kneeling in front of the cage, Vixen whispered as softly as she could, “You must be very, very quiet. I promise I'll help you.”

The woman remained unmoving in the corner, her eyes watchful and completely untrusting. Why hadn't the other vampires sensed her here? Vixen wondered. Why hadn't
she,
when she'd been held here? Or Topaz? And then she recalled that Gregor had somehow surrounded this place in a shield that prevented mental messages from getting out. Perhaps he'd surrounded his own rooms in the same manner, so this one's presence couldn't be detected by others in the house.

Turning away from the captive, Vixen went to the desk in the adjoining room, feeling the woman's desperation at being left behind. And yet she remained quiet.

Beside the desk, in his cage nearby, the rat looked at her, twitching his whiskers.

Vixen looked right back at him and initiated a conversation. But asking a rat to recall a conversation that had taken place in a language he did not know was no easy task. However, he did convey that Gregor had jotted things down on a notepad as he'd spoken on the phone.

She found the notepad. Its top sheet was completely blank. She took a pencil and used the old trick of shading in the top sheet to see what had been written on the sheet above it, but Gregor must have torn off several, or else never written anything at all, despite what Jack thought he'd heard, because nothing showed up. She checked the wastepaper basket, even as the rat showed her, with his mind's images, Gregor's habit of crumbling notes and tossing them into the fireplace when he finished with them.

She would find nothing of use in the wastebasket.

She had so hoped…

Quickly she went through everything on the desk, searching for any clues, but she found nothing of use. Turning, then, knowing it was time to attempt to escape, she showed the rat what she was going to do, to ensure his cooperation. Then she tipped the pole slowly over, lowering it to the floor, until the cage lay on its side. She freed the latch, let the door fall open, told the rat he was free to go.

He leapt out, raced across the floor and vanished from sight. He would be all right. He could make his own escape.

The woman in the dog-sized cage couldn't. And now Vixen had to get both herself and the strange, traumatized female out of the lion's den alive.

How she was going to manage it, she didn't know. She went to the window, parted the curtain carefully and peered outside. There were drones posted at every corner of the house, and some here and there in between.

No doubt the one who'd heard her “knocking” on the front door had deployed them to watch the grounds.

Hell. She was trapped.

Now what?

She lingered at the window for a moment longer, seeking an answer, when she saw something move at the edge of the drive. Frowning, straining her eyes, she looked again and thanked the fates for her vampiric night vision when she glimpsed a small group gathered there: Topaz, Seth, Roxy and Jack. She wanted to call out to them—even attempted it, but it was like shouting from within a lead chamber. She thought of opening the window, then wondered if there might be an alarm attached and thought better of it.

 

Seth convinced the others to scope out the place with him first, then come up with a plan. It was the best option he could come up with, because it would put him in close proximity to Vixen in the least amount of time. No one had any better ideas, so they went along.

They didn't get too close, only close enough to see the drones standing around the mansion at regular intervals, eyes scanning the darkness around them with a nervous apprehension that convinced him that they knew something was up.

Dammit. Where the hell was Vixen?

Vixen,
he called silently to her mind alone.
Where are you?

There was no answer. Nor would there be, if she were inside the house. “I wish to God I knew how he manages to keep messages from getting in or out of that godforsaken place,” Seth whispered.

“It's something electronic. That much I know,” Jack replied, crouching close beside Seth.

“How do you know that?”

“Power went out once. Big storm. And you could feel the shield, or whatever the hell it is, go down.”

“Then we have to knock out the power.” Seth glanced at Roxy and Topaz.

Roxy shook her head. “We don't even know for sure they're in there. What if they're not? Taking out the electricity would only tip them off.”

“Well, just how the hell do you suggest we find out?” Seth snapped.

Topaz put a hand on his shoulder from behind. “Get a grip, Seth. We're just trying to be smart. Cover all the bases. We want to get them out of there as badly as you do.”

“I know.” He sighed, lowered his head. “I know—What the hell!” He jumped up suddenly as he spoke. “It's a freakin'
rat!
”

The others rose, too, backing off a little, except for Jack, who remained crouched, staring at the rodent that had, inexplicably, come scurrying right up to them. As they watched, the creature rose up on its hind legs, its nose twitching, forefeet moving as if it were shadowboxing.

“What the hell is it
doing?
” Topaz backed away three full paces, rapidly, then shuddered and rubbed her arms.

“I think it's Lucifer,” Jack said.

“You think the rat is the devil?” Roxy asked, sounding mildly amused. She'd backed away at first, but now she came closer again, bending a little to watch the animal's antics.

“Not
that
Lucifer. It's a pet, well, a captive, to be more accurate. Gregor keeps it in a cage in his rooms.”

Seth narrowed his eyes on the rodent. It was down on all fours again, but turning back toward the house and twitching its snakelike tail.

“So then how did he get out?” Seth asked.

They all looked at him, each reaching the same conclusion. “Vixen would do something like that. Set a caged rat free,” Topaz said slowly.

“Not only that, but she can talk to animals,” Seth went on. “We all saw it outside The Crypt that night.”

Roxy shook her head in disbelief, but her eyes remained riveted to the underfed black animal as it turned around to face them and rose up on its hind legs again. This time it emitted a squeak.

Topaz covered her ears and backed up again. “All right, all right. We hear you. Timmy's in the well. We're on it, okay? Now, get out of here, you gross little beast!”

The rat went motionless, still upright, blinking at her.

“Go!” she said in her loudest whisper yet, and she stomped her feet closer, as if she were about to trample it. The rat dropped to all fours and ran away.

“Dammit, Topaz, why did you do that?” Seth demanded.

“It was freaking me out!”

“We could have used it to communicate with Vixen.”

“Oh, well, hell, Seth, you never mentioned that you could talk to vermin.”

“Dammit, Tope, we could have strapped a note to it and sent it back inside or something.”

“Uh-huh. And how were you going to tell the rat where to take the note?” She rolled her eyes.

Seth stared at the house, and his eyes were watering. “She must be in Gregor's rooms.”

“Or was recently enough to set Lucifer free and send him to us,” Jack agreed. “It's that window there.” He pointed. “She must have seen us.”

“That bastard. If he laid a hand on her—”

Jack shook his head firmly. “Gregor wouldn't touch her, Seth. Don't worry on that score. He was the kind of idiot who was disgusted by the very thought of it. Referred to her as a half dog.”

“That is so wrong on so many levels, I don't even know where to begin,” Topaz muttered. “But I suppose, in this case, it's a blessing. At least she's safe from that.”

Roxy eyed Seth, and he squirmed inwardly. He hated like hell to think of himself as anything like Gregor, but he realized he'd had the same initial reaction. Okay, maybe not disgust. He'd been confused; he'd felt betrayed and lied to. He'd been hurt that she hadn't confided in him, and yeah, it had creeped him out a little. But only briefly.

“Where the hell do you suppose Reaper is? Why doesn't Vixen just shape-shift and dart out of that freaking place?” Seth asked.

“If she could, don't you think she would?” Topaz sounded short on patience. “I don't like this waiting. We have to do something.”

“I have an idea,” Roxy said. “If she really is in Gregor's rooms, those rooms right there, she can escape through the window. It's an easy jump for a vampiress. All we need to do is get those drones out of the way, lure them around back or something, and give her time to get out.”

Seth stared at her, stunned at the simplicity of the plan. He gripped her shoulders and kissed her full on the mouth. “I love you, Roxy.”

“Yeah, yeah, most men your age do.” She smiled and fluttered her lashes. “But there's one caveat to my plan.”

“And what's that?”

“We don't get ourselves captured or killed in the process.”

Everyone nodded in agreement, and they huddled close to finalize their strategy.

R
eaper was standing in the field, out in the open, armed but feeling uncomfortably vulnerable, when the black Porsche pulled in. The headlights blinded him, but he quickly stepped aside, out of the glare. The door opened, and a man emerged.

“Hello, Rivera.”

Reaper was surprised that the man knew his real name. He'd thought no one besides Roxy knew that. But there was something vaguely familiar about the voice, and as the man stepped closer, Reaper strained to see him clearly.

“Do we know each other?” It was impossible to see him with the blazing lights at his back.

“Turn off the lights,” the man commanded someone in the car.

Briar—or so Reaper assumed—obeyed. The lights died, and he blinked and refocused on the man's features. And then recognition dawned. “Gregory Adams?”

“A sharp memory is a good quality in an operative. I see yours hasn't dulled with time.”

He remembered the man. A CIA agent he'd worked with once or twice during his former life. And rapidly the pieces began clicking into place. “You're working for the Agency. Now. As a vampire.”

Gregory shrugged. “They want you back. A vampire for an operative, one trained to kill, one they can control with a pair of trigger words—can you imagine how valuable you are to them?”

“They know about me.”

“They know everything about you, including that you've reinvented yourself as an executioner of rogues like me. Hell, Rivera, you're one of their biggest operations. They made me into a vampire, set me up as a rogue, gave me your triggers. My mission was to lure you to me, capture you alive and return you to them.”

“Was?”

Gregor smiled slowly. “I've found I like my new life a lot better than my old one. The power. I kill at will, I take what I want. I've amassed a small fortune already, and all I want is more. More money. More power.”

“
My
power.”

“
Now
you're getting it.”

“You'd have to kill me to take my power, Gregor. And that's not going to be an easy thing to do.”

“Easier than you think, my friend. Now, let me tell you how it's going to go.” He turned slightly, though he never took his eyes off Reaper. “Briar, love. Get out of the car.”

The passenger door opened as Reaper watched, and she stepped out. His eyes narrowed. She didn't look well. She looked haggard. She was trying to block but, in her condition, not succeeding. He could feel the pain, the weakness, rolling from her in waves. He shot a furious look at Gregor. “What the hell have you done to her?”

“Just this.” Gregor moved his hand, and Briar screamed and dropped to her knees, hands flying to her neck.

And that was when Reaper saw the collar around her throat. He felt ill when he realized…“Stop. Damn you, stop it!” He took a single step toward Gregor.

Gregor held up the remote in his hand. “Uh-uh-uh,” he said. “One more move and she gets another jolt.”

Reaper went still as Briar fell face-first on the ground and lay there, trembling and moaning. Grimly, he shifted his gaze to Gregor. “All right. Just tell me what you want me to do.”

 

Seth, Topaz and Jack each went to a corner of the house with an apple-sized rock and a haphazard plan. Peg the chosen drone with the rock, laugh uproariously and run like hell. They planned to lead the drones into the forest behind the house, hopefully with enough of a head start to get to the designated spot first, take up their positions and ambush the bastards when they arrived.

While they did so, Roxy would—with luck—be leading Vixen and Reaper to the van and driving them to safety.

Seth didn't even know if Reaper was still inside the house. He was certain Vixen was, though, and if he got himself dead, that was fine by him, so long as the result was that she got out in one piece.

He gave the others time to get into position, waited for Jack's whistle, which was the agreed-upon signal, and then he wound up like an all-star pitcher and let fly.

“His” drone stood at the front left corner of the house and was very close to Gregor's window, which was now Vixen's window. Roxy was crouching in the bushes, ready to rush to that very window and pitch pebbles at it to try to get Vixen's attention the minute the drone was gone.

The rock hit Mr. Big But Dumb right between the eyes, and he dropped like a sack of potatoes.

“Shit!” That wasn't what was supposed to happen.

Roxy parted the azalea bush and peered out at Seth with a look of “what the hell now?” on her face. Seth shrugged and made a slicing motion across his neck with a forefinger. Then he quickly located another rock, targeted the next closest drone and flung his missile.

This one reacted as predicted. He rubbed his shoulder where the stone had slammed into him, cussing a blue streak at the pain and scanning the night to see who the hell had thrown the rock.

Seth stepped out of his cover, sent the guy a smile and a wave, then turned and ran full bore into the woods. He could hear Topaz and Jack racing through the trees, as well, brush crashing, twigs snapping, footfalls pounding in a regular, rapid rhythm, then stopping suddenly when their owner leapt over some obstacle or other.

The plan should work, Seth thought, as he ran, weaving around tree trunks, ducking to avoid low limbs, and leaping over stumps, deadfall and roots. The drones were big, bulky, far from graceful. Powerful, yes, but not lithe or flexible. Meanwhile, he, Jack and Tope could run and leap like freakin' gazelles.

And that was what he did. When he hit the clearing, he could still hear the drones coming, and they didn't sound far away. But Jack and Topaz were there waiting, each standing directly beneath a large tree. Topaz had chosen a willow, Jack an oak. Seth moved quickly to his tree, a sugar maple, and at his nod, they each pushed off, jumping high, catching hold of a limb, pulling themselves into a secure position.

Seth settled into the crotch of the tree and took out his tranq gun. He didn't know how many drones would be coming—all of them, he imagined—but they'd taken every bit of ammo they could find. He hoped it would be enough.

He glanced across the clearing and spotted Topaz, seated far from the tree's trunk on a fat limb, looking as comfortable as if it were a park bench. Tendrils of willow hung before her face like a lace curtain. She was ready. Jack stood in his oak, feet braced on two separate limbs that forked outward from the center, while his back was pressed to the trunk. He was ready, too, his gun in his hands.

And then all hell broke loose as the drones came thundering into the clearing. Seth took aim, then fired. Then he loaded another dart, took aim again, fired again. Two drones fell. Two more, as Topaz and Jack did just as he had. And then another pair.

The tranq guns were silent, the sound of their darts hissing through the night barely noticeable, but by the time the second round of drones dropped, the others knew something was going on and began looking around.

There must have been twenty of them, besides those already out of commission, Seth thought. And within a second or two they were going to narrow down the source of those tranq darts, and probably yank him and his colleagues out of their trees like bears plucking juicy blueberries.

He loaded and fired again. And again. And then one of the drones was looking right at him, snarling, pointing, charging.

He shot the bastard, and the one behind him, but a third was leaping into the tree before Seth could load again.

A dart rocketed into the drone's shoulder, though, and he went stiff, fell backward out of the tree and hit the ground.

Topaz gave Seth a wave and went back to targeting drones. They were on to her location now, as well, surging toward her, but Jack and Seth managed to hit them before they did any damage. One got up high enough to grab her by the leg, and she bashed him in the head with her gun; then Jack managed to sink a dart into his backside, sending him tumbling to the ground.

Dammit, they just kept coming, and ammo was running low. Seth only had three darts left, and he could see at least seven or eight more drones. He shot one. A second went down, hit by one of his cohorts. A third came to his tree and started up it, as a fourth roared toward Jack's tree. Numbers five, six and seven were still on the ground. Two more darts, Seth thought, and fired at the drone climbing up his tree but missed.

The dart landed on the ground as the drone climbed higher. It took a swipe at Seth, hit him in the side and damn near knocked him right out of the tree. Pain screamed through him as he struggled to get his last dart into the gun. He glanced across the clearing for help, but both Topaz and Jack were busy with drones of their own.

Seth got the gun loaded as the drone hit him again, and this time he fired at close range and the dart sank deep into the drone's neck. He released Seth and fell to the ground, landing back-first. The three other drones on the ground looked straight up at Seth and then came at him, reaching for the tree. One jumped and landed on a limb right beside him. Seth had to react on gut instinct, and gut instinct said, “Get out of the tree where the two-ton drone vampire just landed,” so he did. He jumped, clutching his now-useless gun.

He had no more ammo. The two other drones were under the tree, and they turned as they followed his progress through the air and onto the ground, and then they came at him, flanking him.

He could hear Topaz struggling with her drone, and the last time he'd looked, Jack had his hands full, as well. Seth was cornered, but then he glimpsed the misfired dart lying on the ground, and he moved fast. He dove for it, rolled as he grabbed it and leapt to his feet again in one smooth motion. Then he jammed it into the gun, aimed at one drone and fired.

The hulk went down, and Seth pointed the gun at the second one. “Hold still now, unless you want what he just got.”

The drone stood still, frightened by the unloaded weapon, at least momentarily. Seth glanced over his shoulder at Topaz just in time to see her gun falling to the ground as a drone leaned over her in the tree. Then she jammed a dart into her attacker's chest with her bare hands.

Seth shifted his gaze left and spotted Jack beating in a drone's skull with the butt of his weapon, until the bastard finally toppled from the tree.

Topaz shoved with all her might, pushing the now unconscious drone off her chest and letting his body thud to the ground. Then she jumped out of the tree, bent to pick up her tranq gun, walked calmly over to where Seth stood and shot the only remaining drone, the one standing before his unloaded gun.

The guy went down in a heap, and she nodded at Seth. “You're welcome.”

“Uh, thanks.”

Jack jumped down, as well, and came to join them. “You both okay?” he asked, but his eyes were only asking Topaz.

“I'm fine. You, Seth?” She looked him up and down.

“Yeah, I'm good,” he said, noting that Topaz's eyes were on Jack almost before he'd answered.

“I'm okay, too,” Jack said. “Let's get out of here, okay? Before more of these brain-dead lummoxes show up.”

“Best idea you've had all night,” Seth told him.

 

Vixen broke the lock on the little cage and opened the tiny door, reaching inside to help the woman crawl out, but the woman in the cage cringed away from her touch, so she backed off a little. “It's all right,” she whispered. “I'll get you out of here somehow.”

“You're one of them.”

They were the first words the woman had spoken, and her voice was weak and raspy—and yet there was an underlying strength to it. A defiance that seemed out of place, given her situation. Vixen was surprised to hear it, and a little bit awed, as well.

“I'm a vampire, yes,” she admitted. “But I'm nothing like the one who's been holding you. Although I guess, in your place, I'd be just as wary. He's the only one you've ever met, isn't he?”

The woman nodded shakily, pulling herself out of the cage, then standing straight with obvious difficulty and trying to hold her shredded dress together. “I didn't even know they were real before,” she said.

Vixen went to a closet and took out a large white shirt, one of Gregor's. She handed it to the woman, who quickly grabbed it, then backed off and pulled it around her.

“What's your name?” Vixen asked as the woman slowly, clumsily, fastened the buttons with trembling hands.

“Ilyana.”

“I'm Vixen.”

“What will you do with me, if you
do
manage to get me out of here?” Ilyana asked.

“Nothing. I mean, help you if you need it, but other than that, what you do is entirely up to you. Though—before you take off, it would probably be good if you'd let me tell you a few things about yourself.”

Ilyana stared at her. “What could you tell me? You don't even know me.”

“I know about your rare blood antigen, your bleeding disorder, and the weakness and lethargy that have probably begun to show up.”