Know Thine Enemy (8 page)

Prentiss pressed forward and laced his fingers together.
"And you are Elizabeth Jane Bennett."

Shit.

They knew her name. Everything around her jumped from
bad
to
catastrophic.
Hunters weren't supposed to have names. They were shadows in the night, the celestial boogeyman to any unearthly beast that dared prey on human flesh. Names brought them out of the dark—names made them soft and killable.

Names meant she and Wright had been in St. Louis a day too long.

Prentiss smirked as though sensing her discomfort. "Elizabeth Bennett. Isn't there a book about you?"

"
My mother loved Jane Austen." Izzie's throat tightened. It was one of the only things she knew about her mother.

"
It's a lovely name."

"
I prefer Izzie."

"
Then Izzie it is." Prentiss sighed and leaned back. "First, I do apologize for the rough accommodations. As I said, we did have to take precautions in taking you in. We needed to get your attention."

She glanced down.
"Consider it got."

"
Rest assured, we mean no harm."

"
You can see how that's a little hard to believe."

"
We're the St. Louis chapter of C.R.O.S.S."

"
Cross?"

"
Community Representatives of Subhuman Species," Moira, the blonde, supplied. "We're an organization dedicated to making the existence of vampires and all otherworldly creatures a matter of public knowledge through awareness and education."

It took a second for the words to make sense, but even then
Izzie's mind refused to cooperate. "I'm sorry," she said slowly. "But what?"

"
I understand your confusion," Prentiss said. "Vampires aren't exactly known for their social skills."

"
No, they're much more known for their 'bite first, ask questions later' skills."

"
That's not true," Juliette said coldly.

"
It's the stigma." Prentiss nodded. "And it's unfortunate that the actions of the few spell out such a damning reputation for the many who lead normal, albeit underground, lives."

Izzie blinked, her head aching. She felt woozy, and her surroundings seemed fuzzy against the backdrop
—as though viewed through a screen door. The vampires at the end of the table could just as easily be figments of an overactive imagination, since whoever had knocked her out had sure as hell done a good job. While she typically didn't dream much, she could be dreaming now. Anything was possible.

The Wall. Ryker. Connor, and his plate of heart-attack. Those were all real. She knew it. She felt it.

These vampires, though . . . their faces could be nothing but the brainchild of a bad trip.

"
I sense your skepticism," Prentiss said. "It's no small wonder why."

"
It's reassuring to know I have observant hallucinations."

He chuckled and raised a hand.
"I'm not a hallucination."

"
That's just what a hallucination would say."

"
C.R.O.S.S. has been working in league with the United States government in an effort to best decide how to educate the public on the world they do not know."

"
Reality TV is all the rage these days, or so I've heard."

Prentiss grinned.
"I like you, Izzie."

"
I'm beside myself with joy."

"
You're not like your friend, Mr. Wright."

Her insides flushed cold, and though she did her damndest to wipe her face clean. Ryker had known about Wright,
too, though she didn't think he'd said his name. Her inner alarm screamed, and the hairs on her arms stood at attention. "What do you know about him?"

Prentiss
's brows perked. "More than you, I'd imagine."

"
Fuck you."

"
Mmm." He reached for a file she hadn't noticed. "Mr. Zachary Wright. Thirty-eight. Father of Kimberly Nicole Wright. Widower of Amber Lynne Wright. Former construction worker for J.P. Gage in San Diego, California. His wife was murdered—"

Izzie winced, looking away.
"Stop."

"
—when she was nine months pregnant with their son. He identified the killer as a vampire." Prentiss glanced up, his expression quizzical. "How did he manage to do that? Most reasonable people don't leap to such a conclusion without a background in these issues."

Izzie
's lips tightened. "Why don't you tell me?"

"
It's no fun that way." He shook his head and looked to the file once more. "This is a matter of public record, pieced together by survivor tales. Those Mr. Wright attempted to kill but failed, particularly in the early years of his vengeance quest. As he matured, he minimized his mistakes and left fewer witnesses. All the reports are the same, though. All mention Mr. Wright in detail. A man of considerable height, build, long hair, and hard eyes. His M.O. hasn't changed, either. Not until he picked up a plucky new sidekick a few years ago."

Prentiss raised his gaze again.
"So, Elizabeth Jane Bennett, where do you fit in?"

Izzie held her tongue.

"Her information was harder to find," Moira said. "But not impossible."

"
Not impossible." Prentiss nodded. "You grew up in Billerica, Maine, isn't that right?"

Izzie
's jaw felt welded shut, cold, hard rage sweeping through her body, washing away any symptom of fear. Billerica. They knew about Billerica. If they knew about Billerica, they knew everything. Finding the rest wouldn't have taken much effort at all.

However, even though the knowledge shook her, it didn
't bother her at the moment as much as it should. Knowledge couldn't hurt. Whatever they said, whatever memories they dredged up, would pale in contrast to actually living in Harrison's House of Horror. Still, for the very crime of knowing her, knowing her ghosts, knowing what chased her in the dark, she would burn this place down.

"
Twenty-six years ago, a woman named Kathleen Watson announced to the Archdiocese that she was pregnant with the child of a priest." Prentiss scoured the text before him. "Father Harrison Bennett was named as the father."

Izzie shuddered
but held her tongue. She wouldn't give them the satisfaction of verbalizing her discomfort.

"
What occurred was not as common as one might think. Excommunication is typically reserved for sins of the gravest nature, and, while Father Bennett was never fully excommunicated, scandal forced him from the public light and turned him into a recluse."

Her stomach
churned and, despite her best efforts, a slight whimper pressed against her lips.

Prentiss ignored her.
"Kathleen died giving birth to you, and the good priest just couldn't leave his child at the mercy of the State. He took you in and raised you, rarely going into town, save for one or two Sundays during which he substituted for other preachers. Most of his groceries were delivered, and aside from a few trips to the emergency room, he fell from sight." The vampire paused. "Then, one day, he was found dead in his daughter's room, covered in blood, a deep wound in his chest, and no sign of the girl."

Her temples pounded. Her skin felt saturated in a thick paint of cold sweat. Hard, sharp breaths rocketed through her chest and the room began to spin.

No, no, no, no.

"
That was you," Moira said softly. "Wasn't it?"

"
What do you want?" Izzie demanded. "It has to be something. Just tell me what it is so I can go home."

"
We want your help."

She blinked dumbly.
"You . . . what?"

"
Your help," Prentiss said. "We would like to enlist your assistance in getting C.R.O.S.S. off the ground."

"
And you decided to woo me by taking me down memory lane?"

He shrugged.
"I wanted you to let you know that you and I have no secrets."

"
Except that you've kidnapped me, tied me up, and forced me to remember things I've spent years trying to forget. Oh, right, and I don't know jack about you except you fail at people skills."

"
I am one of the founders of C.R.O.S.S. I have spent the last several months tracking the known hunters in the continental US via a scattering of reports from C.R.O.S.S. members and affiliates across the country." Prentiss's brows flickered. "You and your friend were among the top."

"
Lucky us. I take it Zack's behind door number one?"

"
Oh, no." He laughed. "Mr. Wright didn't make the cut."

She should have been relieved, but the knowledge that Wright wasn
't in the vicinity sent another tremor of fear down her spine. "Oh."

"
Look, I know our methods are questionable," Prentiss said.

"
Well, thank God for small miracles."

"
But our intention is just," Prentiss said, "We are not vampires who prey on the blood of humans, or in any way impede the progress of the human race."

Izzie snorted.
"A message that rings particularly true seeing as how you drugged me and tied me up."

"
Our goal is to integrate ourselves into your society."

"
My goal is to bash your head in."

Prentiss smirked, but waved a hand.
"Our goal, admittedly, has been met with resistance from others in the community. Vampires like your friend, Ryker."

Izzie frowned.
"What?"

"
Mr. Ryker. He is a friend of yours, correct?"

"
Is that what this is about?" she asked. "Look, I don't know that Ryker guy. He came out of nowhere yesterday and then he just kinda bogarted my table and started talking my ear off. He said he's been following me—"

Prentiss nodded.
"He has."

"
But so have you."

"
Comes with the territory."

"
The stalker territory," she muttered, "So you know Ryker."

There was little point in asking. From the way Prentiss
's expression darkened, from the deep loathing set on his face, she already knew the answer. It was the same look that befell Wright every time he thought about his dead wife or the events that had led him to the hard life he wore now.

"
We are acquainted," Prentiss said softly.

"
But he's not one of yours."

"
No. Mr. Ryker represents the very sort of monster C.R.O.S.S. is determined to eradicate. It is our intention, Izzie, to enter a world wherein vampire hunters such as yourself are no longer required to serve as guardians of the human race." He shrugged. "Ryker and those like him are of the belief that humans are below us in the food chain, and that it is our right to pick you off."

"
We believe vampires are a subhuman species," Moira chimed in. "Those who pledge dedication to C.R.O.S.S. are those who were turned against their will, or unknowing what they would become."

Juliette nodded.
"Feeding on blood isn't right."

"
There are those who believe themselves godlike for their ability to defy time, cheat death, and feast on the flesh of the living," Prentiss said. "Mr. Ryker is one of them. He is of the same breed that butchered Mr. Wright's family, and therein leading him on his dark path."

Izzie wet her lips, the pain in her head stretching until she felt numb. Everything throbbed and pulsated. Nausea crept into her stomach.
"I'm not the one you want for this."

"
No?"

"
You . . . mentioned . . . you mention Harrison. My father."

Prentiss inclined his head.

"Vamps have done nothing to me. Hunting is just a job. Or a favor, really. A favor to Wright. I owe him, and that's why I do what I do. It's nothing personal."

"
But Harrison Bennett did," Prentiss said. "Do something to you."

Izzie winced and did her best to ignore him.
"I'm with Zack because he saved me."

"
You're here because you're different from the other hunters."

She frowned, her thoughts tugging her back to The Wall. Hadn
't Ryker said the same thing? Did she have something tattooed somewhere? Hunters weren't typically known for their conversational skills. How anyone could determine she wasn't like every other badass in her field was beyond her, but it had definitely become a nuisance, and rendered her effectively pissed.