Heroes (16 page)

“It’s your right,” she defended Ben to himself.

“That’s crap,” he told her. “And we both know it.”

A flash of anger flared in her eyes, like lightning in a distant desert storm. “It’s the Law,” she said. “We both know it.”

“And you want to change the Laws.”

Fear replaced the anger. New fear. Not for him, but of him. “You—know?”

Ben waved a hand in front of the bars of his cage. “It’s pretty obvious I don’t know anything. Never mind, sweetheart.” He glanced to the spot in the ceiling where a small camera watched the room. “What did he do to your security system?”

“Don’t know, exactly. But the monitor in Control shows that you’re still sleeping. I wasn’t in Control when I felt you wake up. Didn’t suspect anything until I got back and checked the screen. Then you screamed. I ran. Was too upset to tell anyone to come with me. Sorry.”

Ben shrugged. “We’ll work it out.”

As he spoke, Morgan Reese returned. This time he was carrying what looked like a large pair of quilted silver oven mitts. He put them down on a chair, then took everything but the glowing red gem off the marble-topped coffee table. “This will have to do,” Reese said. He went over to Clare and took her by the shoulders. He smiled at her. “I need a volunteer. Come along,” he urged and pulled her toward the table. “I need you to lie down.”

 
“You’ve read the Scrolls of Silk?”

Haven didn’t think Char noticed her voice rise to a near shriek as she shouted. He waved a hand to shush her. “I said I saw them. From a distance. Through a surveillance camera.” This gave too much away, and he cursed himself for it. “There’s some things you need to know,” he went on. “If you don’t ask questions.”

She gave him a stern look. The sort of look that reminded him that she was a cop. A cop who could rip any information she wanted out of his mind if she chose to. Fortunately, mindrape was not something Char would ever immediately consider. She asked, “Questions about how you get your information?”

“I have sources,” he said. “I need to protect them. Like a journalist.”

“Protect them from me?” Her hands were on her naked hips, and there was, literally, fire in her eyes. At least they were glowing in an angry vampire way.

“Yes,” he answered. Never back down from an angry vampire was Haven’s policy. He’d survived so far. “Look at you, going Enforcer on me when I’m trying to help you.”

“I am an Enforcer. I am a Nighthawk.”

For some reason she blushed when she said it, and her gaze slid away from his in a guilty kind of way. What was up with that?

“You worried about what’s in the scrolls?” he asked. “Think I won’t love you if you aren’t really a vampire?”

“I am a vampire!” Char actually stamped her foot when she said it. “Whatever you’ve heard is a lie.”

Haven held his hands up in front of him. “Hold on, Char. Darlin’, I do
not
know what the scrolls say. I haven’t read them. I’m guessing about them. And the guess seems to have hit a nerve. Hit a nerve with people who have fangs and it can get ugly.”

This made Char smile a little. “You’re making a very educated guess.” Her eyes were no longer glowing, but there was sharp suspicion in them. “How?”

“I know why I’m really in Vegas,” he said. He sat down on the bed and patted a spot on the rumpled bedding for her to join him. “Neither of us came only for the wedding, and we both know the other knows it. Why are
you
really in Vegas?”

“The Silk Road,” she admitted, sitting down beside him. “All I wanted was to have a look inside the Silk Road. It’s supposed to be full of wonderful things.”

He scratched his chin. “I was in the museum today,” he told her. “I don’t know how you vampire cops let it happen, but the place is full of real stuff. Very scholarly. You’ll love it. You should go.” He put an arm around her shoulders, pulled her close. “But you have to take care of Martina first.”

Her surprise went through him like a hot knife. Char jerked away. “Martina? Who the hell’s Martina?”

“The vampire nest leader responsible for the Enforcer of Las Vegas’s disappearance.”

She was on her feet again. “How did you know he disappeared? At least, Valentine thinks he’s disappeared—though I don’t know who the hell Valentine really is, or why I feel compelled to listen to her.”

The name
Valentine
had come up on the companions’ conspiracy board, but Haven wasn’t prepared to mention his rebellious activities to Char just yet. “Let’s not make this too complicated,” he told her. “Never mind this scroll shit. Words
can
kill you if you’re allergic to magic, but fangs and claws and weapons can kill you faster.”

“I don’t think the scrolls have anything to do with spells. The scrolls contain negative propaganda about the Nighthawks. The information can be used to turn regular vampires against us. Those words can kill us even without containing magic.”

Char was a great believer in words. “Actions speak louder than words, isn’t that the saying?”

She nodded. “Yes. But—”

“Let’s stick to immediate danger. What I’ve discovered in Las Vegas is a situation involving a nest of vampires who hate Enforcers. If they’re going to—what?—post the scrolls online? That’s probably only part of this Martina’s plan. Who believes in old prophecies and that kind of crap these days? How many care? Modern vampires believe in science. Most people turned into vampires in the last fifty years think it’s caused by a mutation that affects their reaction to energy fields.”

“How do you know that?”

He ignored the question. “Some have never heard your creation myth. Some believe the origin stories about vampires in movies and comic books. Am I right?”

She nodded reluctantly. “You’ve been thinking too much, Jebel.”

“Comes from hanging with you, babe. Now, if Martina feeds regular vampires scientific information, gives them DNA evidence that Nighthawks are different than they are, then the vampire population’s going to get restless on your Nighthawk asses.”

She frowned at his language, then said, “Well put, Jebel. You have such a way with words.”

“I do,” he agreed. He crossed his arms. “So, Enforcer McCairn, what do you think’s going on when a nest of Nighthawk-hating vampires goes looking for the local Enforcer, and that Enforcer then disappears?”

She didn’t have to think about this long. “I think the Enforcer is a dead-brained dickless asshole if he lets himself be taken by a few disgruntled vampires.”

It was his turn to frown at her language. “Well put, Charlotte.”

“We need to find this nest,” she announced, “and the idiot Enforcer they’re doing lab work on. We probably need to get dressed before we do that,” she added.

Haven rose to his feet. “I’ve got an idea. Why don’t you go back to Tucson, and let me track down this Martina and her disgruntled nest.”

She looked amused, and pleased, at his concern. “You’re trying to protect
me
?”

He nodded, quite solemnly, aware in that moment that he was afraid for her. “They’re out to get Nighthawks,” he reminded her. “You’re a Nighthawk. Why offer them another target?”

She touched the spot on his shoulder she’d bitten earlier. “You’re going to be a Nighthawk.” She gave him a fierce grin. “Let’s go get them together. But first we get dressed. And I have to call Valentine.” After a disturbing hesitation, she added reluctantly, “And Sterling.”

Chapter 14

“WHY DO I have to be here?” Eddie saw Martina wince at his whining. So he whined some more. “Why? I’ve got a life, you know.”

“Don’t you want to see how we’ve fixed up the place, wraith?” She gestured around them.

Eddie only vaguely remembered how the hangar building had looked in its prime. One end had an open space under an arched roof big enough to hold a couple of small private airplanes. A wall separated the hangar area from several rooms that had once been used as an office, and living quarters for the flight crews of the planes. Eddie knew Martina hadn’t sent a pair of big boys from her nest to fetch him for the purpose of showing off the redecorating.

He’d been brought through the dark hangar to meet Martina in the old office area. The place had changed a lot. The smell of the fresh white paint on the walls bothered his nose. There was disinfectant in the air as well, and even a hint of lemon from the polish on the floors. The new lighting fixtures might be bright by mortal standards, but they did nothing for Eddie’s needs. The place held lab benches, where mortals worked with high-tech machines. About the only things Eddie could identify were several high-powered-looking microscopes. There was a lot of glass around, beakers and test tubes and whatnot.

Martina already had a hand on his shoulder; now she squeezed it. “This place was a trash heap, with rats and homeless people inside before we started. You should thank us, wraith.”

“Maybe I should raise your rent,” he muttered.

“In a few hours our slaves and companions turned your wrecked property into the lab and holding facility we require.”

“You have clever slaves,” he answered. He was not impressed. What did he care about the education of mortal monkey puppets?

“Very clever,” Martina agreed. “This operation has been in the planning stages for nearly a decade.”

“A decade’s not that long.”

“In the growth of mortal scientific knowledge, the last decade has been amazing. I’ve been following the development in genetic research, and knew it held the key to our finding proof about the abominations. It did take some time to find the type of scientists we needed, people with training, skills, and of course, enough of the Goddess’s Gift to be put to our uses. As soon as we heard about Ibis’s plans to bring the city back to life in the modern age, we put my plan in motion. We made a bargain with him to exchange information for our services. We found and enslaved our research team. We acquired the necessary equipment—”

“Which you kept in a truck because you didn’t have anywhere to stash it.”

She ignored, or possibly didn’t notice, Eddie’s sarcasm. “We found you. We knew you had property.”

Eddie wanted to snap at her that there were a lot of things she didn’t know about him. But what was the point? All he really wanted was to find out why she’d brought him here, and then get out. It was bad enough he’d had dreams about Martina last day; he didn’t want to face the fanatic in the flesh any longer than he had to. He glared at her now, waiting.

She was silent under his regard for a few moments, then she smiled, like a kid with a very special secret. “Do you want to see what we’re doing to the abomination?”

“No,” he said.

She ignored him, and drew him down a hall to a heavy door that was guarded by two of the biggest vampires Eddie had ever seen. Not only were this pair tall, broad, and heavily muscled, but they wore body armor, helmets, and held heavy guns. Now this show of strength impressed Eddie. He was a warrior, after all.

Martina urged him forward. Eddie balked, and pointed toward the door. “You’re keeping Duke in there?”

“It’s perfectly safe.” Her smile was smug, even placid. “He’s drugged. And restrained.”

“He’s an Enforcer!”

“That’s that sort of attitude we’re trying to save you people from.” She shook her head. “You’re terrified of him, aren’t you?”

“And you’re not?” Eddie pulled away from Martina’s grip, but one of her guards stepped forward and leveled his weapon at Eddie’s chest. Eddie was not normally afraid of guns, but something about the barrel of this thing looked ominous. He shot a look at Martina. “What kind of rounds does that thing fire?”

“Incendiary,” she answered. She was smiling benignly again. “Very painful.”

“Vampires can’t kill vampires.”

He’d always truly believed this was the one evil that strigoi could not commit on each other. But now, with the way this nest of insane fanatics acted, he was no longer so sure.

“
I
don’t want to kill you, wraith.”

Eddie didn’t like the emphasis on
I.
“What do you want?”

“A sample of your blood.” She gestured toward the door. “Let’s go inside.”

 
Jebel didn’t tell me why he’s in town.

Char recalled this while she sat on the bench she’d shared with Valentine the night before. Lights flared in pretty patterns overhead, and neon blinked and swirled at the entrances to casinos. Char had no problem ignoring the lights, or the pedestrian traffic all around her. Even the vampire junkies were no more than tiny blips on her awareness. She was in a broody mood, and Jebel Haven was easy to brood over.

While their conversation in the hotel was supposed to have been a two-way information exchange, she’d blurted out her interest in the hotel—which she supposed wasn’t all that big of a secret—but Jebel hadn’t really told her anything. Except about Martina, the scrolls, and the missing Enforcer, she amended. Okay, so he had told her a lot, but he hadn’t told her
why.
He hadn’t told her
how.
He hadn’t named sources. It was important in their very secret world to keep it secret. She shouldn’t let a mortal keep important information from her. She shouldn’t let a mortal freely snoop around the edges of vampire life. Of course, she shouldn’t have let him go so long without having tasted her blood, either. Their bond was real, and it was strong, but it was a human one, made up of trust, and love. It was too human. She acted too human. And that was no way for an Enforcer to protect her kind.

“I’m going to nail him,” she vowed to the night. “Tonight. Going to drag him into an alley if I have to, cut a vein, and make him take a drink.” If they could find a few minutes to spare from saving the local Enforcer from whatever trouble he’d gotten himself into. She ran her tongue over slightly extended mating fangs. “Going to be sweet.”

Fortunately, the night around her was too busy, and far too noisy for anyone to overhear her talking to herself. This was the sort of place where people gave you space. People came here to enjoy themselves. To make fools of themselves. They got drunk and noisy and rowdy and made out with each other. No one paid attention to anyone else, or expected anyone to pay attention to them. It was permanent Mardi Gras. She could feel their joy, frantically desperate in many cases, but at least mortals knew how to have fun. There was a certain built-in gloominess to being a vampire. She liked humanity.