Jordan Summers - [Dead World 01] (34 page)

In fact, it grew with every
passing year. It was only
his will that
kept him from madness. His will, and
the
urge to find the last of the men responsible for his
family's death.

He let out a long breath and continued to clean. An
hour later, the place was presentable enough for him to
call it home
base. It was time to find Gina.

Roark had ordered someone to break into her home at
IPTT while Mike had researched her back ground. Whoever had done the job stole
some of her
dirty clothes, which was
exactly what Mike needed
now.

He pulled out one of Gina's
T-shirts and brought it
to his nose,
inhaling her scent into his lungs. He
should
be able to find her if she was within a hundred-
mile radius.

Mike dropped the shirt and slipped his laser pistol
into the inside pocket of his jacket. A minisword
ran
the length of one sleeve. It would inhibit his movement, but the
position put the deadly blade at hand's reach.

Night embraced him as he stepped into the twilight.
The stars shown from above, twinkling merrily around the nearly full moon. In
the distance, a coyote howled. The sound was cut short by a deep rumbling
snarl, then there was silence.

Mike shivered, staring into the darkness. There were
predators here, human and animal alike. Some just as dangerous as he. Mike
would have to stay alert if he wanted to survive this mission.

Raphael Vega inhaled the sweet night air deep into his
lungs.
He'd had a good rest and now
needed nourishment. There were a few women in town that he
could go to, but he wasn't looking for company
tonight,
only food. They didn't like
it when he ate and ran.

He glanced out over the shadowed horizon, relishing
the night sounds as the nocturnal creatures scurried out of their hiding
places. His footsteps were silent
as he made his way into Nuria. Raphael would heed
the sheriff's
thinly veiled warning to leave town some
other time. He'd missed being around others who
considered his
unique traits normal. That's why he'd
returned. It was why he'd always return here.

He
continued into town, scenting the air as he went.
Perhaps he'd make
a stop at the hospital and pick
up
a pint or two of O negative. He was in
the mood
for something spicy.

Raphael took another deep breath and stilled. A
strange
fragrance wafted in the air. He frowned and inhaled
again. The odor
was still there, but stronger now.
He tilted his head, turning slowly in a circle. The
scent reminded
him of something.

He thought back, but memory eluded him.
It was
probably
nothing,
he
thought. But for some reason Raphael
couldn't make himself let it go. When he'd turned
south, the scent grew stronger. This time some
thing niggled at the back of his mind.

Something about the fragrance was familiar. He'd
smelled
it before in his youth. It made him think of family.
Raphael's heart
hit his ribs as his brother's memory flooded his mind.

It
wasn't possible. His family had been dead for years.
He breathed in
again. Whatever was causing the
odor was coming closer. Had he finally lost his
sanity?
He'd been expecting that to happen for the last
hundred years.

Without conscious thought his feet moved to intercept
the elusive
odor. There was probably a perfectly logical explanation for the sudden sense
memory, but for the life of Raphael he couldn't think of what it
might be.

He rounded the corner of Spruce St. Whatever he was
tracking had moved, but it was easy enough to follow.

The individual was heading out
of town. Raphael
frowned
when his quarry made a sudden left after four miles. The only person who lived
in this direction was
the
sheriff. His gut tightened and he picked up his pace
as a sudden urgency pressed upon him.

There weren't many places to hide around the sheriff's
home—a few sand dunes and a couple of dead cacti were about it. Raphael circled
wide, keeping himself downwind. He didn't want the person with the elusive
scent to know he was here until he got a good look at him. Sand sifted under
his feet as he scanned the area.

For a moment he saw nothing in the darkness but the
endless desert. He was just about to turn around
and return to town when a slight movement caught his
eye. Someone
was crouching behind the dune closest
to
the sheriff's side window. Raphael glanced through
the window and saw
Gina Santiago hunched over a
compunit at a
desk and Morgan wandering in and out
of the kitchen. They were the
epitome of domestic bliss. He would've smiled at that thought if the sense of
danger wasn't so great.

He looked back at the huddled figure. The outline of a
weapon rose from the shadows. Raphael moved
without
formulating any kind of plan. He didn't know whom the target of this assassin
was, but he knew he
had to stop him.

The person took aim.

Raphael stepped out of the
darkness. From this dis
tance he could
tell it was a man, like he'd suspected, but
he couldn't see his face. The scent was
overpowering now, nearly drowning him.

"I wouldn't do that if I were you," he said.

The man swung around, his eyes wide with fright. The
pistol came with him until it was leveled on Raphael's chest.

"It can't be," the man gasped.

Raphael took a step closer, unable to believe his
eyes. "Michael?"

"Raph?"

He couldn't seem to breathe. His eyes had to be
playing tricks. Somehow loneliness had conjured the image
of his brother.
His dead brother. Raphael took a
step back as emotion overwhelmed him.

 "It's not possible." he said. "You're
dead."

"I could say the same about you," Raphael
replied, fighting
back the hysteria threatening his mind.

"But how? I saw you die." Mike blinked
repeatedly, trying to disperse the years of unshed tears. He replayed
the last
moments before hell rained down upon them in the lab. Raphael had been moved to
isolation for more tests—the same area that had exploded.

As if reading his thoughts, Raphael answered.
"When the explosion hit, the wall to my cell crumbled. I glimpsed
daylight and made a dash for it."

"But the sun?"

"Burned like hell, but as you can see, I didn't
explode. It was no more painful than what they'd been doing to us for years
with the experiments. I suppose I should be grateful to have mixed blood. The
vampires who weren't psychic didn't fare so well. I tried to go back and find
you after my wounds had healed, but by then, everything was gone. Our parents,
the cells, you, everything."

Michael couldn't seem to swallow
the lump in his throat. All the anger and years of despair poured over him in violent
torrents. He shook and the earth around
him began to part. Raphael barely acknowledged the
tremor.

"All the years, all the grieving, the separation,
it was for nothing. You've been alive this whole time."

"I'm sorry to disappoint you." Raphael gave
him a sad smile. "I cannot deny the loss of time, but that's over now that
we've found each other."

Mike shook his head and the air
thickened from the
movement. "You
don't understand. We can't go back. I can't go back."

Raphael stepped forward and
clutched his brother's
shoulder. "No
one is asking you to."

He let out a strangled wounded cry. "You don't
know what I've done. What I've become."

Raphael glanced at the weapon in his hand and then at
the house beyond.
"I
have a pretty good idea. If you are looking for
someone to play judge, you
will not find
him in me. We have both done things in
order to survive. Things I for
one am not particularly proud of." He looked back at his brother. "I
do have one question, though."

"What's that?"

"Why?"

Mike blinked. "You don't want to know who?"

Raphael shook his head. "No. Only why?"

"You're not going to like it."

"Perhaps, not. But I would still like to
know."

"Very well, then help me up
and I'll tell you every
thing." Mike
held out his hand. Raphael didn't hesitate. He reached out and plucked him off
the ground
and pulled him into his arms.
The embrace was heart
felt. It was
several seconds before Mike was willing to
release him. He was afraid if
he did that Raphael would somehow disappear.

"It's good to have you back, brother."

Mike smiled, feeling joy for the first time in
centuries. "It's good to be back."

chapter
twenty

Red stared at the green screen of the compunit on her
desk until her eyes blurred.
She'd
hoped she would have more success today than last night at Morgan's home. Red
had grabbed an unoccupied desk at the sheriff's office and had been working
tor hours with no luck in finding a connection between the three women. She
couldn't seem to get Jesse Lindley's horrified expression out of her mind from her
visit to the dissecting lab yesterday.

Her eyes filled with tears and she quickly wiped them
away before anyone noticed. It wouldn't do to
fall
apart now. Morgan had been in and out of the office
all day taking care to check on her each time. His
con
cern for her well-being only
made the situation worse.

She glanced at the screen once again, scanning medical
backgrounds and employment. None of the women worked in or near the emergency
care center
They all had different hobbies,
which kept them miles
apart. She had to be missing something.

Red dug deeper, scanning their immediate family
Nothing leapt out. With a frustrated sigh, she reached to turn off the machine.
A second before her hand hit the
button Red's gaze landed on a mention of the elder
care center.
She'd seen that before in Moira's file.
She flipped to another screen and began to scan. It
only took a
minute to find. That made two for two. If
Renee had a grandmother in elder care,
then Red had
found the connection.

Sure enough. Renee Forrester had a grandmother
who'd passed away at the facility. Something
about the deaths
jarred her
memory. Red hit a button to bring up
the
files that held the images of two of the victims. One’s eyes were missing,
while the other's ears were
gone. What was
that story her grandfather used to tell her
when she was little about a girl with a red coat or
cape?

She tried to recall the story, since Red knew it
somehow involved grandmothers. Wasn't there a
wolf
in
that tale? Why would Kane follow a child's story? He
wouldn't. She was tired and grasping at wisps of smoke. Red woke Rita.

"Take a reminder," she said.

"What is it you'd like me to remember?''

"I need to look up a story about a wolf that
terrorized
a girl dressed in red."

There was a pause.

Red glanced at her navcom and frowned. "Rita, did
you get that?"

"I received the message, but it does not compute.
Wolves have not existed in this area for
over seventy
years."

Red chewed on her bottom lip. Hadn't Nancy told her
that she'd spotted wolves? She'd said it had been awhile since she'd last seen
them, but that was certainly less than seventy years ago. Nancy didn't look a
day over thirty. "Don't worry about it, Rita. This isn't about a real
wolf."

"Affirmative, then your message has been
saved."

"Thank you."

The connection crackled. "You're welcome. Is
there anything else you'd like me to do?"

"No."

"Commander Santiago has been trying to reach you
on your private line. Should I contact him now?"

Red's stomach fluttered. "No, not yet. I'll do it
later. You can power down." She'd
purposely avoided
contacting her grandfather because she didn't want him
to worry. She also wasn't sure how to begin to explain her visit to Nuria. If
he found out about the attack, he'd send in the entire tactical team and the
killer might slip away.