Lucas (45 page)

She had lowered the
binocs
, when a flash of movement where there hadn’t been any before made her pull away from her desperate search near the front door. She lifted the lenses again and scanned the side of the house, certain she’d seen something move. It had been close to the ground, an anomaly caught in her peripheral vision, not an animal, but
there .
 . . something—a window maybe—was being pushed out from the house. It was little more than a slightly less dark patch of wall, but it was definite movement and, oh, yeah, lots of it.

Kathryn touched the small radio bud in her ear. “Nick.” It was only a few seconds before he responded, but it seemed like forever as she watched figures begin to emerge from what was clearly a basement exit. It had to be
Klemens’s
vampires,
the ones Nick had said would be hiding from the human visitor,
McKinney
.

“What have you got, Hunter?” Nick’s voice was a welcome noise.

“Lots of movement, my side of the house.
I think it’s a basement exit of some—”

“On it,” Nick interrupted, and then he was gone.

Kathryn dropped the
binocs
and put her eye to her scope instead. These were almost certainly
Klemens’s
vampires. Lucas had insisted she wouldn’t be able to kill them with her rifle, but he’d probably never seen what a .50 caliber round could do. A shot to the head would split a person’s skull right down the middle like Play-
Doh
and pulverize the brain. Not even a vampire could survive that. But she hadn’t particularly wanted to kill anyone tonight, so she’d gone with Federal Match Grade .308 Remington 168-grain slugs instead. Sighting on the emerging vampires, she didn’t bother with detailed target selection. She just moved the crosshairs from one lump of darkness to the next and pulled the trigger. The first couple howled in surprise as the bullets tore into them. As Lucas had said, it obviously hurt like hell, and it definitely slowed them down. They spun in circles, searching for the shooter, but she just kept firing, and they were soon more preoccupied with evading her bullets than figuring out where they were coming from.

“My guys are on scene, Hunter,” Nick warned urgently.

Kathryn stopped firing and switched to
binocs
as the first of Lucas’s vampires engaged their enemy. If she’d thought the death of the human guard on the front porch had been violent, this took it to a whole new level. There was no posturing among the vamps, no jockeying for position, they just stepped in and started ripping each other apart. Knives, fangs, hands curved into claws as they slashed and tore at each other. Heads were ripped from bodies,
then
tossed aside, the bodies
poofing
to dust before her eyes. Another vampire was run through with a wicked knife. He grabbed his chest and laughed, until Lucas’s warrior stabbed him a second time, straight through the heart. Then he, too, became nothing more than a pile of dust.

Kathryn’s heart was hammering, adrenaline setting her nerves on a knife’s edge as she watched something she knew few humans would ever see. In moments, there was no one left at the basement window but Lucas’s vamps.
And not a dead body in sight.

“All clear, Hunter,” Nick informed her. “Good work.”

“Roger,” she
managed,
her hand shaking as it dropped away from her ear.
Dust.
Vampires were hard to kill, but they really did turn to dust when it happened. Her bosses at the FBI would be thrilled with the
intel
she could bring them from this night’s activities. She might even get a promotion out of it, maybe something that would get her out of the office and back into the field again. She placed a hand over her pounding heart and thought about loyalties. She didn’t know exactly where hers lay anymore. It was a troubling thought.

Someone screamed from deep within the house. Then, as if that first scream had freed them all from a spell of silence, the night was filled with the sounds of battle. It was the stuff of nightmares, and all Kathryn could think was that Lucas was in there somewhere, and she had no idea what was happening.
Or whether she’d ever see him alive again.

* * * *

Lucas stood before his enemy’s front door, every ounce of power and knowledge he possessed focused on one thing, spreading fear and confusion among
Klemens’s
vampires. Right up until the moment he’d stepped out of the SUV at
Klemens’s
gate, he’d been using his strength to stop his rival vampire lord from pinpointing his presence. But this close, that was futile. His power signature would be far too strong, and
Klemens
was far too wily. The minute they’d arrived at the estate, even as he was verifying the location of his warriors around it, and Kathryn, too, in her perch high above the battle, he’d been using his unique talent to whisper in the ears of
Klemens’s
warriors, warning them of invaders sneaking around the corner on a breath of wind, of death tapping their shoulders and snatching away their courage. Their terror fed his power, as rich and sweet as blood from the vein. He didn’t relish this part of his talent, this ability to draw strength from the fear of others. But this was war, and if it came down to a choice of who would die this night, he’d use every talent he possessed to make certain it was
Klemens
and his vampires who bit the big one before the next sunrise.

Lucas spared a thread of power to search for his enemy, the delicate probe slipping through the cracks to search every corner of the eyesore of a house before him. Very soon, he’d have to suck his power back into himself and leave the larger battle to his warriors, because somewhere in there,
Klemens
was waiting. No matter how many of the
Chicago
vampires Lucas’s fighters destroyed, the real battle, the only one that really counted, was the showdown between the two vampire lords.

The front door opened only to be torn from its hinges by the raging wind of Lucas’s power. He squinted against the sudden shaft of white light as two heavily armed humans staggered into the opening.
McKinney
’s guards, he assumed, and they were getting ready to fire. Several of Lucas’s vampires were suddenly in front of him, guarding him with their bodies while two of their number made the dash across the frost-covered lawn and took down the humans before they even managed to bring their weapons to a full firing position. The two men screamed, their voices cut off as their necks were snapped. One of Lucas’s vampires fed briefly, ripping out the human’s throat as his heart beat its final tattoo. But the feeding was more symbolic than anything else—a predator claiming his victory before tossing the limp body aside.

Aggravated by the bright light, which had no place in a vampire’s residence, Lucas reached out and fried the local power grid. The entire neighborhood sank into blessed darkness. Next to him, Nick stiffened to attention,
then
rapidly deployed several warriors to one side of the house. Lucas heard the repeated pop of several gunshots and glanced up at the neighboring house. A muzzle flash confirmed Kathryn’s location, and he grinned. So, she got to shoot her rifle after all. And she didn’t seem to be having any second thoughts about it, either. Maybe he’d make a warrior of her yet.

His gaze shifted to the black hole of a front entry. He tugged on the thread of his power and found
Klemens
.

You should have killed me when you had the chance
, he thought mockingly, and let the thought carry to the second story where
Klemens
waited.

Tonight will do just as well, you
mick
scum
.
Klemens’s
mental voice was filled with venom.

Lucas almost laughed at the petty slur and thought the
Chicago
vampire must really be worried if he was resorting to such
superficial
insults. Lucas sent one final nightmare speeding through the enormous mansion, his blood pumping with adrenaline as a flood of terror rushed back to him. He soaked it in,
then
walked through the front door and up the stairs.

The battle raged as he made his way through the house, his warriors moving silently around him, lethal wraiths
who
brought permanent death wherever they went. The first screams were the final cries of vampires caught by surprise, still muffled by the blanket of darkness he’d dropped over the house. But as he climbed the stairs, gathering his power back into himself for the final battle, the noise level increased. Vampires howled in agony and roared in triumph. Bodies crashed through walls and tumbled over balconies.
Klemens’s
people fought back viciously, knowing what was at stake, recognizing the depth of their danger. Lucas had no doubt they were being goaded to a desperate defense by their master, who remained tucked away in his place of power, waiting for Lucas, like a fat spider in its web.

Lucas moved swiftly down the second floor corridor, all alone now. Even Nicholas had been drawn away into the frenzied battle raging all around him. Lucas moved with purpose, though he’d never been in this house before,
Klemens’s
presence drawing him as surely as a red arrow flashing in the dark.

He found the
Chicago
vampire lord in an old-fashioned trophy room. Animal heads were mounted on the walls, and a collection of ancient weapons hung over the huge fireplace where glowing embers revealed the dying light of a recent fire. The room reeked of fresh blood, and Lucas knew he wouldn’t have to worry about killing Hector McKinney.
Klemens
had slaughtered the crime boss, draining him dry to fuel the contest to come.

Klemens
appeared out of the shadows, standing from behind the desk. Blood, still warm from
McKinney
’s beating heart, clung to
Klemens’s
clothing and dripped from his fangs. He grinned at Lucas, his hands still curved into the claws that had ripped his former ally to shreds.

“Come to die at last, Lucas?”

Lucas smiled easily, flashing his own fangs as he prepared for the fight of his life.
Klemens
was powerful, but young, as vampires go. He was strong, but inexperienced, wielding his power like a cudgel. He was a gorilla with a big club. Lucas, on the other hand, had power
and
experience. His was a more refined fighting style, death by a thousand cuts. He was going to savor every single slice of
Klemens’s
flesh before he killed him.

Lucas lashed out without
warning,
carving into the big femoral artery of
Klemens’s
left leg, then immediately snatching his power back into a tight shield around himself.
Klemens
howled at the unexpected attack and fought back exactly as Lucas had expected he would. A thundering stroke of power slammed against Lucas’s shields, a tactic that would have driven him to his knees if he hadn’t been prepared for it. But Lucas didn’t waste time analyzing his enemy’s strategy. Instead, he responded immediately, slashing at
Klemens
left and right, over and over again, his power like a many-tailed whip whose barbed ends cut into his enemy from every direction, from high and low.
Klemens
roared as he struggled to protect himself from Lucas’s unconventional attack. He flung out a hand, and Lucas staggered. It was like a huge boulder slamming against his shields, but though they bowed under the assault, they never broke. And like his shields, Lucas never faltered. He snarled his hatred as he sliced the flesh from
Klemens’s
bones, severing arteries and veins, driving the
Chicago
lord to his knees as his legs gave way, unable to support him.

Klemens
gave a deep-throated howl of rage and swept his arms outward. Lucas recoiled as every animal head mounted on the walls
came
flying toward him at once, physically striking his shields from all sides. It was a desperate move on
Klemens’s
part, meant to distract more than injure, and it nearly worked.

Lucas ducked as a fourteen-point stag head flew at his face, and
Klemens
attacked from where he knelt, wielding his power just like the club Lucas had imagined. It beat against Lucas’s shields from all sides, pounding until Lucas could hear the concussion of air against his shields, a deep resonance like the clapper on a huge bell. And Lucas stood in the middle of it all.

He contracted his shields tightly around himself, making them more secure, even as it drew the blows from
Klemens’s
attack closer to his physical body. But that didn’t matter. As long as his shields held, even an inch of protection was enough. From within the cocoon of his power, Lucas studied his enemy.
Klemens
was bleeding from everywhere, blood pooling around him where he knelt, his flesh hanging in gory strips that mingled with the shreds of his clothing. Lucas changed his attack, no longer wielding a many-barbed whip, but a whippet-thin rapier instead. A sharp needle of power aimed directly at
Klemens’s
heart.