Ibenus (Valducan series) (20 page)

Panting, she pulled herself away from him. She clutched his hand and groaned, "Kiss me."

He crawled up on top of her, their naked skin gliding across each other's with those rippling tingles. Pulling him close they kissed deeply, the passion mounting. She clumsily tried to maneuver off those cursed button trousers of his until she managed to slide them off.
Chuckling at her eagerness, Allan pressed the full length of his body against hers, and she wrapped her legs around him.

They rocked together in unison. The energy mounted in waves and she met his brown eyes. "I love you." The word just slipped out but they were no less true. She been in love before, made love before, but nothing as this, pure and glowing.

He paused, seeming to weigh those words for an eternity that only lasted a heartbeat. "I love you, too."

"I love you," she repeated, then led him inside her, body and soul.

#

Victoria awoke with a start. She laid against him, her back pressed to Allan's chest and his arms around her. He shifted, awake as well. She turned her head, searching for the clock in the foreign room, wondering what time it was and what had woken them.

"Allan," Sam called from beyond the door, followed by pounding.

Shit!
Victoria scrambled in a tangle of sheets to get behind Allan as the pounding came again.

"What?" Allan called back, sitting up.

There was no way she could hide in the bed if Sam opened the door. Maybe she could crawl behind it. Then she remembered the jeans and underwear strewn chaotically on the floor near the door.

"We have a problem." The handle rattled and began to open. Victoria rolled down onto the floor in a silent, ungraceful move she hadn't performed since the early days of college.

"Hey," Allan blurted, rolling on his side to create a human wall. "I'm naked, here. What is it?"

Victoria peered through the gap beneath the bed, waiting for the door to open.
Don't come in. Don't come in. Don't come in.

"We're fucked," Sam said through the still-cracked door. "Master Turgen called an emergency meeting. We've been ID'd."

Episode 160: Paris Kill Squad

"Welcome back, cryptozoologists," TommyD says as the Monster Seekers logo dissolves. A subtle crease at the edge of the frame reveals the clean white wall behind him to be a large suspended sheet. While the background has changed, the signature fedora and black sunglasses still mask his face. "I've been on a fishing trip and I'm happy to say that I've caught us a big one.

"Shortly after my last episode, where I discussed the Bird Man of Amiens, I was contacted by a gentleman in Paris, France who videoed a close encounter of his own."

The image cuts to the familiar shaky cell phone footage as the smoking man slaps his friend's arm and the camera spins in time to catch the baby-faced screamer emerge from the shadows.

"My contact, who understandably wishes to remain anonymous, asked my opinion of it and I urged him to post it. It wasn't long before the footage went viral and our mysterious monster killers found it. It only took them three days to deduce where the video was shot. By that time, I was already there."

A daytime photograph of the same narrow street slides into view. "After the hidden cameras in Amiens were stolen, I decided on a different approach to either film these monsters or film those individuals that kill them."

The image changes to a shot of the alley, looking down from the side, this time at night. "At 0200 hours, a white van circled the block and two individuals systematically destroyed every streetlight within two blocks."

Several more pictures scroll past, each holding for a full second before changing, all taken from the same vantage point and zoomed in on the van. One shows a blond man with close-cropped hair and slender glasses aiming down the barrel of a pellet gun. Another shows him turning his head toward an unseen driver. The next shows a bald black man peering down the air rifle's sight. Then it freezes and zooms closer on the last. The black man is smiling broadly, his elated expression so photogenic that it wouldn't look out of place in a magazine ad selling arms to would-be vandals.

"The following morning at 0300 hours the same van drove past." Pictures play as TommyD speaks, telling the story in hi-res images. "The vehicle stopped and four masked individuals exited, each armed with pistols and medieval weapons. They broke down the door and entered an abandoned apartment as the vehicle drove away. Eighteen minutes later the van returned and these two men removed articles from inside it before going back into the building. You can see by this close-up that the second one fits the size and race of the man pictured shooting out the lights. Neighbors reported shots fired and twelve minutes later all four perps ran back to the vehicle and fled the scene."

The image changes to video of two white police cars, blue lights strobing off the building fronts, the glare reflecting in windows. "Officers arrived half an hour later. Sources say that while no bodies were discovered, blood and shell casings were found at the scene. Whatever unfolded inside the apartment remains a mystery.

"But mysteries exist to be solved, my friends. We've identified this man," the close-up of the smiling black shooter fills one half of the screen, "as Luc Renault." A second picture slides into the other half of the screen. A large man, younger, but with the same broad toothy grin, poses for the camera. Muscles bulge from beneath a bright crimson jersey with a black collar. "Renault played left prop for the Rugby Club Toulonnais until 2009 when he left at the height of his career. The retirement was sudden and without warning."

The images zoom in until only the smiling faces fill the screen. "Take a good look, cryptozoologists. This man is a piece in the puzzle. When we find him, we'll find our answers. Mister Renault, when you see this, and I have no doubt you will, this is your chance to do the right thing and share with the world what you know. This is TommyD, signing out."

Chapter Thirteen

Gerhard closed his eyes, fleeing to the exquisite darkness behind his lids. It felt as though a steel ring pressed along the inner walls of his skull, ratcheting wider with every heartbeat, threatening to crack its way out. After the ceremony, he'd enjoyed several toasts with his new family. Never one to indulge in excess, he'd played it safe, sipping while they drank the expensive champagne and a Napoleon cognac that Master Turgen had opened for the occasion. He'd handled himself well. Then Master Schmidt had challenged him to a drinking contest over a bottle of schnapps.

Bastard.

The old man now sat at the front of the briefing room, freshly shaved and thin hair combed, sipping his coffee with no apparent signs of any hangover at all.

Gerhard winced as the door thumped. He squinted as Chaya came inside wearing a baggy shirt with no sleeves. Curly strands of hair poked awkwardly from her thick ponytail.

"What happened?" she asked.

"Have a seat," Master Turgen said. "Did you find everyone?"

"They're on their way," Sam said, following Chaya into the room. She took a seat at the computer by the front.

The others filed in shortly after, all asking what the emergency was.

"Now that we're all here," Turgen gestured toward Sam.

"Right." She tapped her mouse. "This hit the boards this morning."

Heavy metal blasted from the speakers along the wall, setting Gerhard's teeth on edge. He couldn't look at the video, having endured it once already. Instead, his gaze moved to the knights now seeing it for the first time.

The music faded down to be replaced by TommyD's angry voice, blaring out just that one decibel too high. "Welcome back, cryptozoologists. I've been on a fishing trip and I'm happy to say that I've caught us a big one."

Allan and Orlovski's eyes widened as the video progressed, their faces falling with each second. Disbelief. Anger. Fear. Eyes locked onto the screen, Victoria's hand slid to Allan's knee, her open mouth a mixture of dread and pain, then closed into a scowl of the purest hatred. Luc watched the video for the second time, his expression cold and unreadable, as if he were listening to a doctor read a prognosis from a chart.

All eyes save Turgen and Schmidt's turned to Luc as his name was spoken, but the big man remained impassive.

"What the hell do we do?" Chaya asked as the video wound to a close.

"We fucked up," Orlovski muttered.

"First things first," Master Turgen said after the screen went dark. "I want that van gone. Destroy it. I want no trace that it ever existed."

"Right away," Allan said. "It's not traceable to us."

"Good. Taras, secure a replacement vehicle. Make the necessary modifications."

Orlovski nodded.

"Luc, I'm sorry. We always knew this was a possibility. You're off the Paris team."

Luc's lips tightened to a flat line.

"How could they ID him?" Chaya blurted. "Just a photograph? How could he put that together so fast?"

"It only takes one person to recognize him," Allan said.

"Yeah, but that guy doesn't exactly look like a rugby fan."

"Maybe one of his contacts is."

Gerhard squeezed Umatri in his lap. "What do we do about this man?"

"Him?" Master Turgen asked, motioning to the screen. "Nothing. He's an irritation, but hardly the first to identify one of us." He turned to Schmidt. "Remember that British exposé in `92?"

Schmidt harrumphed humorlessly.

"This man is extremely dangerous," Allan said.

Turgen rested both hands on the cane between his knees. "I agree. He's just outed one of our knights. Luc will need to relocate. We'll get him out of Europe."

"But my family," Luc said, breaking the silence. "My nieces. I can't leave them."

"Nothing permanent, Luc." Turgen raised his palm. "But for the moment you need to go away. You can't visit them, either. This TommyD is surely watching them."

"He isn't charged with anything," Victoria said. "The video said no bodies. The most anyone could get him on is criminal damage for the lights, and they'd have to prove it was him. The picture proves nothing."

Schmidt shook his head. "It's not worth the risk. It could link him to the rest of us if he's spotted again."

"What happened to the bodies?" Gerhard asked. "Did he move them?"

Allan shook his head. "If TommyD knew what was in there he wouldn't have gone inside."

Chaya snorted. "He might have. He has no idea what he's playing with."

"Doubt it. He'd have shown that if he could. I'm sure the mantismeres reclaimed them once we'd left so no one would find them."

"The bugs hid them?" Gerhard asked.

"Don't let appearances fool you," Turgen said. "Demons might resemble animals, but they're not. They're extremely intelligent, retaining all the knowledge of everyone they've ever possessed. They'd know the bodies would lead people toward them. I imagine they've disposed of or eaten them by now."

"But why would they care?" Victoria asked. "The police can't hurt them."

"They can't harm the spirit, but destroying the body is quite possible. Fire. Explosion."

"Train," Orlovski added.

The old man bobbed an approving finger at him. "Destroying the body simply requires punishing it enough."

"So without Luc," Orlovski said, "what does that leave us?"

Schmidt blew a long sigh. "You'll have Allan, Chaya, Gerhard, Malcolm, and yourself with Samantha and Victoria running support. Five knights killed Tiamat and an army of demons."

"Naked," Allan added. "Don't forget that we were naked."

"I have full faith you can handle it." Schmidt said.

#

"That's rough," Matt said with a groan. His short sandy hair jutted out in every direction in a spectacular achievement of bed-head. "How's he taking it?"

Allan shook his head. The little window of him in the lower corner of the screen mimicked the movement, though opposite. Whether real or imagined, he could still smell Victoria's scent in the bedroom. Normally he'd have these chats with Matt in the Library, but Allan needed privacy for this one. He needed his best friend. "Not well. He hasn't said anything to me yet, but… Remember how he looked when the chateau was burned and we had to empty it out?"

"Ooh," Matt said with a wince. "So volcano pissed?"

"Yeah. He met with the Masters privately after the meeting. Not sure what they talked about, but I can promise he's still going to have to leave Europe."

Matt sipped from a giant gray coffee mug shaped like an Easter Island head. "Sucks that it happened, but we'll be more than happy to take him."

"Master Sonu has first dibs."

"Bullshit. Seriously, can you imagine Luc in Asia? He's like six-seven. Just picture him trying to blend in."

Allan laughed. "I'm not saying he'll go there. They just have first call. Their territory is the largest."

Matt flapped his thumb and fingers together like a talking hand. "Dude, we've got four people in Chile. We don't even have a Master here. We're like the bastard children."

"That's not always a bad thing."

"No," he conceded with a slight shrug. "It's not. Once this Paris thing is over you should come down, give us a chance to meet this apprentice of yours."

"Love to," Allan said, grateful Matt had given him the opening he needed. "I, um, wanted to talk to you about something."

"What's up?"

"It's Victoria…last night, after the knighting…well—" A pang of terror shot through Allan's nerves as a baby's wail came through the speakers, invoking the memory of screamers surging up the hole.

Matt turned and looked at the camera. "Crap, hold that thought." He stood and left, leaving Allan the view of the Chilean Archives. They were smaller, only a few metal bookshelves and a glass case of visible artifacts.

Allan let out a long breath.
Just say it. He'll understand.

A minute later, the crying slowed, then puttered out. Continuing to wait, Allan cemented his resolve.

"Here we go," Matt said, returning to frame, a fat-cheeked baby with olive skin and raven black hair in his arms. "Sorry about that, man." He waved the baby's hand at the camera. "I'm sorry, Uncle Allan."