Legend of the Ir'Indicti 5 - Destroyer (27 page)

BOOK: Legend of the Ir'Indicti 5 - Destroyer
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The woman in the photograph was beautiful in a youthful, perky kind of way, with short, curly blonde hair and a lovely smile. She stood in sunlight on the wharf in San Francisco, where little had changed through the years. What shocked Wlodek to his core, however, was the image of the one standing beside her. It was a photograph of him. Wlodek never allowed himself to be photographed. He knew this could not be. Yet it was. In the photograph, an almost-smile played about his lips as he held the blonde close to his side.

Wlodek felt as if he'd been punched in the gut as he gazed at the blonde's face. He wanted her, and he hadn't wanted anyone since Sarita's death.

"Is this a trick?" Wlodek's breath was short as he'd questioned the woman sitting before his desk. Her face had shone, making it impossible for Wlodek to see her features and hair color. He still found it unsettling.

"Not a trick," she'd replied. "Aedan is preparing to walk into the sun, because of your idiotic actions. There's still time to save him if you leave soon. Let him die and you'll never have what's in that photograph."

"Who are you?" Wlodek had kept his eyes on the photograph instead of looking up to ask his question.

"You can call me Love," she'd snapped. "And a greater amount of irony surrounds that name than you can possibly imagine."

Wlodek had looked up, then, blinking as the woman disappeared.

* * *

"Dude, how did you get here?" Sali asked.

"I got my misting talent back an hour ago." Ashe and Sali walked down the sidewalk toward the Evans' home. It was Wednesday afternoon, after school and the Grand Master and Mr. Winkler were at Marcus DeLuca's home, questioning Dawn Smith. Ashe had informed Trajan that he wanted to visit Star Cove and Trajan had given his permission.

"Coming back, one piece at a time?" Sali asked.

"Seems that way. At least I can mist, now. I felt naked without it. Still feel like I'm in my underwear," Ashe nodded.

"Don't know what you have until you don't have it."

"Yep."

"I'd feel naked if I couldn't turn to wolf," Sali said. "It's a part of me. Can hardly remember not having it."

"Yeah. I remember you in Transformational Arts, dude."

"Too bad you never turned to the bat in class. That would have been epic."

"Nah, people would have made fun of me."

"I don't think they'd make fun of you, now. If they know what you can do." Sali hunched his shoulders. "Jeremy—that was—I don't know."

"Yeah. I didn't do it for him."

"I know."

"Randy's coming," Sali looked up. His sensitive nose, even in human form, had picked up Randy's scent.

"This may not be pretty," Ashe mumbled. "Sal, you may not want to stay for this." Ashe watched as Randy strode purposely in his direction.

"I'll stay. He's human. I'm werewolf, remember?"

"Ashe, did you have something to do with this? With putting my mother through this?" Randy flung out an arm as he swiftly approached Ashe and Sali.

"Randy, do you know what she was doing when she was sent back here?" Ashe asked, stopping so Randy could approach.

"She said she stopped to visit Sara on her way to Canada. Couldn't you just let her go?" Randy sounded close to tears.

"Randy, she had a gun. She was about to kill Sara. Have you talked to Sara?"

"She won't return my calls."

"No surprise," Ashe sighed. "If the prospective mother-in-law waves a gun in your face and tells you you're about to be dinner, it's usually a deal-breaker on the relationship front."

"I want to hit you," Randy snapped.

"Hey," Sali held up a hand.

"Something going on?" Marco had driven up with Cori in the passenger seat.

"Randy talked to his mom. Got her version of the incident in Chicago," Ashe said.

"I hear she was about to kill your girlfriend, Randy. You should be grateful Sara's not dead," Cori pointed out. "Daddy questioned her for Marcus last night."

"You're all liars," Randy shouted. "Liars." He turned and stalked away.

"He's had one parent killed already. Now the last one is about to go down," Ashe shook his head.

"Want to get something to drink?" Marco asked. "Cori doesn't have to be home for dinner for another hour."

"Sure." Sali and Ashe climbed into Marco's back seat and settled there. Marco drove them toward Dandee Burgers.

* * *

"Did you want to be there—you know," Sali asked as they drank sodas in a corner booth at Dandee Burgers.

"No."

"I wouldn't, either," Cori shivered. Marco placed an arm around her shoulders.

"I think your dad may go," Sali slurped his soda.

"Yeah. She did try to kill Mom. Would have killed Mom, if something hadn't prevented it."

"Daddy says he saw a woman."

"I heard," Ashe toyed with his straw. "I'm still not sure what that means."

"I don't think anybody knows what it means," Marco said. "Maybe your mom's death wasn't meant to be."

"Or somebody changed what was." Ashe sipped his drink.

"Can somebody do that?" Cori blinked curious green eyes at Ashe.

"I hear that they can. Maybe we've seen proof of it."

"Doesn't make any sense," Sali said.

"But lots of things don't make sense, Sal. To humans, we don't make sense." Marco tapped his chest.

"It doesn't make sense that Dawn would sell herself to the people hunting her son," Ashe drew a pattern on the wood tabletop. "Or that she'd involve herself in the murder of her son's best friend. Or that she'd take money to sell the kids in Star Cove to Zeke Tanner."

"Jackson's dead because of her," Marco growled. "He was family. Our cousin." Ashe looked up at Marco's words and blinked.

"Something wrong, Ashe?" Cori watched Ashe carefully.

"Just another piece of the puzzle falling into place."

"That's weird, Ashe." Sali pointed his straw at Ashe. He'd already finished his large soda and was now playing with the straw.

"Weirder than you know. Things are slowly coming around. Sort of."

* * *

"Can you be in Corpus Christi by Friday?" Zeke Tanner offered a backpack to Craig.

"Sure. No problem."

"Then hand that backpack to the werewolf waiting outside the Funky Panda Chinese Restaurant. Minus the gun."

"I'll keep the gun," Craig agreed.

"Just tell Winkler you have information for him. That ought to get you to him, quick enough."

"I'll take care of it."

"We'll have a boat on the shore to take you across the river."

"Thanks." Craig shouldered the backpack and climbed inside the vehicle Zeke provided. Hutch would drive him to the river, where another werewolf waited to get him across by boat. Craig figured he should have done this years ago. With the payday promised by Tanner if Winkler died, he'd never have to work again.

* * *

"Trajan? Can I talk to you?" Ashe knocked on Trajan's bedroom door. Trajan was reading reports on his cell regarding Pack business in Dallas.

"Sure, kid, I was about to fall asleep, reading this boring junk." Trajan set his cell phone aside and looked at Ashe expectantly.

"Trajan, I don't think things are gonna be the same in Star Cove after tonight."

"What do you mean?" Trajan was concerned immediately.

"Well," Ashe perched on the edge of Trajan's bed, "Dawn hasn't always been a member of the community. But she managed to get sensitive information, anyway, during that time."

"True," Trajan nodded. "Information on you and a bunch of other stuff."

"Yeah. What if I told you that the Grand Master and Mr. Winkler are about to find out who she got that information from? That somebody who knew better was handing out information anyway?"

"Kid, this is starting to sound scary."

"Yeah."

* * *

Ashe stared at the gun cabinet he'd misted inside the hidden basement room days earlier. At least he could mist inside the room again. He knew the dart gun and poison darts were safely inside the cabinet, and Winkler held the key. Only one other person could easily reach what was locked inside. Holding out a hand, Ashe
Pulled
another dart to him and misted it inside the cabinet before withdrawing.

"We may need you," Ashe whispered to the contents of the safe.

* * *

"Mr. Thompson, are you a good shot?" Ashe asked as the Thompsons filled two plates with food to take home with them. Flossie had finished dinner and left plates in the oven for Winkler and the Grand Master when they finished in Star Cove.

Amos Thompson studied Ashe for a moment before grinning. "Sure am, kid. I was a sharpshooter in the army."

"Good. If I asked you sometime soon if you'd like to avenge your brother's death, would you be willing to do that?"

"Son," Amos dropped a hand on Ashe's shoulder, "I would be more than willing to avenge his death. I'm not sure how you know about Alex, but he's been missing for a while."

"I'll remember you said that," Ashe nodded. "Thanks for dinner, Mrs. Thompson. That was really good."

"No problem," Flossie offered Ashe a smile. "We'll be back in the morning."

Ashe shut the front door of Winkler's beach house behind the Thompsons with a sigh. And then he cursed. So many things needed his attention, and without his full talents available, it was difficult to know which one to handle first.

* * *

"Cori, I was planning to give this to you for your birthday, but I can't wait for that."

"What? Marco, my birthday is only three weeks away."

"I know. But this—I can't wait three weeks." Marco stared down at Cori, her pretty, blonde hair lifting in a breeze that swept the beach east of Star Cove. He'd asked her to take a walk with him, and she'd readily agreed.

"What is it, then?" Cori looked up expectantly at Marco, and then dropped her eyes as Marco went to his knees before her.

"Cori," Marco pulled a small, velvet box from a pocket and opened it, revealing the diamond ring inside, "will you marry me? Please?"

"Oh, my gosh, Marco." Cori dropped to her knees in the sand and flung her arms around Marco's neck. "I want to. Yes. Yes, yes, yes!"

* * *

"Mr. Montegue, I know you're sleeping now, but when you get this message, will you consider tailing Curtis Roberts? I think he's up to no good," Ashe left the message on Gavin's cell, along with the address of Curtis' office. "He'll be working late tonight. If you can't do it yourself, will you ask somebody else who's trustworthy to do it and keep you advised? Thanks." Ashe ended the voicemail with a sigh.

* * *

"Are you sure that was wise? Letting Roberts know that vampires, werewolves and shapeshifters exist?" Hutch asked, leaning an elbow on the white buffalo's head.

"You know I don't care if the whole world finds out," Zeke growled. "Haven't cared for a while. What does it matter if the humans panic? Just makes it easier to pick them off, don't you think?"

"Haven't killed a human in at least a week," Hutch chuckled. "Sounds like fun."

* * *

"I can't believe this. You knew? And didn't tell me?" Curtis Roberts flipped the folder shut and glared at Arthur Vaine.

"I'm on other committees, remember?" Arthur snapped. "Of course I know. As does the President."

Curtis cursed and threw the folder at Arthur, scattering papers everywhere and making Arthur duck.

"Curtis, it's time you left my office," Arthur said. "Get out."

"So you can call the President and have him can me? Is that what you're planning to do?"

"I can't—you can ruin me, remember?"

"Yeah, that's right. Keep that in mind, Congressman. Keep that in mind." Curtis stalked out of Arthur's office, slamming the door behind him.

* * *

"Radomir, I feel this is important. Will you discreetly follow Curtis Roberts?"

"I will. I have the night off before traveling to Belfast tomorrow evening."

"Just keep an eye on him and use your best judgment if you see him doing anything improper."

"Of course. Shall I keep you and the Honored One apprised?"

"Yes."

* * *

Radomir, Wlodek's youngest vampire child at more than eleven hundred years old, waited discreetly outside the building in Silver Spring, Maryland, which housed Curtis Roberts' office. Gavin had forwarded a photograph of the government employee who, according to several sources, had overstepped his authority on many occasions.

As Wlodek's child, Radomir had access to vampires and werewolves who worked for the U.S. government, and had contacted three highly placed sources. Each had given him identical information, causing Radomir to growl softly.

* * *

Curtis walked past the security guard with barely a nod as he dropped his briefcase to the marble floor and adjusted the cuffs of his suit coat. He'd arranged to meet with a well-known journalist, and Curtis was prepared to hand over important information—information revealing that werewolves and vampires were not a myth. In less than twenty-four hours, everyone on the planet would know. Curtis wanted to laugh—he imagined that vigilantes, religious groups and thrill seekers might be hunting vampires and werewolves by the weekend.

* * *

A cab pulled up outside the building, and Radomir watched as Curtis Roberts exited the building and opened the back door to climb inside the vehicle.

"I'll be joining you," Radomir seated himself beside Curtis before Curtis could blink or reach for the door to close it.

"Who are you?" Curtis stared at the tall, handsome man now sitting beside him. For some reason, a tingle of fear crept up Curtis' spine.

"You should not be concerned," Radomir placed compulsion. "Inform the driver where you wish to go."

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