Luther's Return (Scanguards Vampires Book 10) (11 page)

A few grunts came as a reply.

Samson leaned in to use the mic. “I mean it,” he emphasized.

“Yes, sir,” came Ryder’s reply.

“Grayson?” Samson prompted.

“Yes, Dad. I heard you loud and clear.”

Blake exchanged a look with Samson and muted the mic. “He’ll come through when it counts. You’ve gotta trust him. He’s just like you.”

Samson scoffed, though an expression of pride crossed his face for a fleeting instant. “That’s what I’m afraid of.”

Blake turned back to the screens. The Minivan had stopped.

“We’re here,” Benjamin announced.

“As we discussed, stick to the plan. It’s a go,” Blake said.

The four young hybrids exited the van.

There was little cover during daylight hours. The house was a ranch style dwelling in a somewhat dilapidated state. The neighborhood wasn’t much better: some parts of the Excelsior district were decent, but there were pockets with crack houses and gang-occupied properties the owners had long given up on. At least none of the neighbors would call the police when they saw Grayson and his friends approach the house, looking like ninjas.

The yard in front of the house was brown and overgrown with weeds. A few bushes lined the paved driveway, and a path led past the house to the back of it.

“Two at the back, two at the front,” Blake said into the mic.

The twins headed for the front door, while Grayson and Ryder quietly and swiftly took the narrow path to the back of the house. Old household appliances, parts of a bicycle and other trash covered the back yard.

“Doesn’t look like Mendoza can spot a good real estate investment,” Blake commented.

“When this is over, he won’t need any investments anymore.” The dry remark came from Zane, who was standing behind them.

Blake didn’t take his eyes off the monitors, when he replied, “You’ve got that right.” Then he pressed the button on the mic. “Enter on Grayson’s command.”

There was absolute silence in the command room. Nobody spoke, nobody as much as breathed. The air was thick with tension. Everybody’s eyes were glued to the monitors.

Blake focused in on the 3-D feed. With a joystick he moved the image on the screen, turning it so he could inspect the house from all sides.

“Going in,” Grayson confirmed and gave Ryder a sign.

Ryder kicked the back door in with his foot, lifting it out of its hinges. Simultaneously, the twins did the same in the front. Weapons drawn, all four rushed into the house.

Like a military team, they covered each other as they charged from room to room. They’d trained for scenarios like this, but Blake was surprised at how calm the four hybrids seemed, even though they knew what hinged on this mission. Pride swelled in his chest. One day soon they would make some fine bodyguards.

The kitchen was in disarray, the two bedrooms appeared unused. Blake followed the various camera angles as the hybrids moved through the property.

“Empty!” Damian announced.

“Yeah, the house is empty,” Ryder confirmed.

“Shit!” Samson cursed and turned to Blake. “We missed him. He must have taken her someplace else.”

“He might have never been there,” Blake conceded and pressed the button for the mic. “Boys, look for any signs that Mendoza or Isabelle were there.”

“Ok,” Benjamin replied.

Samson bent over the mic. “Can you smell her scent? Grayson?”

Grayson marched into the living room, when he suddenly stopped dead. The camera on his forehead picked up what he saw.

“Oh God, no,” Grayson murmured. “Please don’t let it be her.”

Blake felt a lump in his throat that prevented him from speaking. The dust that covered the old worn carpet was unmistakable. In the absence of a fireplace in the house it could only have come from one source: a dead vampire—or hybrid, for hybrids disintegrated into ash when they died just as a vampire did.

Next to Blake, Samson had jumped up. “No! No!”

The sound of pain and despair in Samson’s voice nearly tore Blake’s heart into a million pieces. He had to be strong now and think clearly, because his boss was in no condition to do so.

“Comb the place! Now!” Blake commanded. “Turn over every piece of furniture. Check his computer. Go through everything!”

Grayson nodded numbly, while Ryder squeezed his shoulder. “Maybe she managed to kill him.”

Grayson whirled his head to him. “Then where is she?” He pointed to the sofa. “I can still smell her. She was here.” He lifted his head toward the ceiling. “Dad, Isabelle was here. We’re too late. Too late!”

A string of vile curses rolled over Grayson’s lips.

“He left his cell phone. Wonder why,” Damian suddenly said and pulled a phone from beneath a stack of papers. “Must have forgotten it. It was hidden underneath all this crap. Didn’t even see it at first.”

His brother joined him, reaching for it. “Let me see.”

Damian handed it to Benjamin who pressed the iPhone’s home button. “Hey, it’s not locked.”

Blake zoomed in on it. “Is that the voice memo that’s open?”

“Yep,” Benjamin confirmed. “He must have been recording something.”

Damian looked over his shoulder. “Hey, it’s still running. Look!”

“Let me see,” Grayson demanded and snatched the phone from his friends.

“How long is the recording?” Blake asked.

“Over six hours,” came Grayson’s reply. “Weird…”

“Go back to the beginning and—”

But Grayson had already had the same idea and pressed the button to replay the voice recording from the beginning.

There were sounds of doors opening and closing, footsteps, some shuffling, voices in the distance, coming closer.

Then, finally, the voice of a man proclaimed,
“Here she is.”

In the middle of it, Thomas’s cell phone rang and he turned away, answering it quietly. Blake tuned out his words and concentrated on the monitor.

An angry grunt.
“Who the fuck is that? That’s not Kimberly Fairfax!”
It was the voice of a second man.
“What am I paying you good money for?”

The first man, who had to be Mendoza, replied,
“But that’s her. She was right where you said she would be.”

“That bitch isn’t Kimberly. Who the fuck knows who she is! Fucking idiot! Should’ve done it myself!”

“Please, let me go.”

“Isabelle,” Samson murmured.

“I told him I wasn’t Kimberly, but he wouldn’t listen!”

“Shut up, you bitch!”
That was Mendoza again, but he was cut off by the second man.

“Don’t!”

It sounded like a slap. Had the stranger snatched Mendoza, preventing him from hitting Isabelle?

“You’re still gonna have to pay for her,”
Mendoza demanded.
“I did my job. Not my fault that she switched places with that other bitch.”

“Of course.”
The words of the unidentified man sounded just a little too smooth and accommodating.
“You’ll get what’s due to you.”

A second later, Isabelle’s high-pitched scream tore through the speakers.
“Oh God, no!”

A chuckle. Then silence. Footsteps.

“Now you and I are alone.”
It was the voice of the stranger.

“Please let me go,”
Isabelle pleaded.
“I won’t say anything about this. To anybody. I promise. My father will pay you a lot of money if you release me unharmed.”

The man laughed, a cold laugh devoid of any emotion.

“I’m sure he would. But it’s not money I’m after.”

“Please don’t kill me!”

“Oh, I have no intention of killing you. At least not yet. You can be of use to me. You can help me get what I really want.”

There was the sound of feet or hands hitting against furniture.

“Don’t bother. I’m stronger than you. Now let’s go, and don’t give me any trouble, or I’ll change my mind.”

Moments later, the sound of a door being slammed could be heard, then silence.

Blake exchanged a look with Samson. “She’s alive.”

Pain shone from Samson’s eyes. “And as long as he doesn’t have Katie, Isabelle is safe. He’ll use my daughter to make an exchange.”

“That’s my thought, too,” Blake agreed. “Anything from Haven or Wes?” He looked over his shoulder, to where Thomas was standing now, shoving his cell phone back into his pocket.

“Shit!” Thomas cursed.

Instantly alarmed, Blake rose. “What is it?”

“After Haven couldn’t find Katie at home, we had a few men comb the area for her, retrace her last steps…”

The door was ripped open. Haven charged in, a grim expression on his face, clutching something in his hand.

“Where is your sister?” Blake asked.

He stretched out his hand, and Blake focused on the item in Haven’s open palm. “We found her cell in an alley around the corner. No sign of a struggle.”

“Her car?”

Haven shook his head. “Nowhere to be found. She’s gone.”

Samson cursed and slammed his fist against the wall. “Fuck! We need to find her. She might be our only connection to the madman who has my daughter.”

Nobody in the room said what they were all thinking: what if the kidnapper had already snatched Katie?

“She might be out there doing her own investigation. She was adamant about wanting to help,” Haven admitted, though he didn’t sound like his usual confident self.

From the corridor, the sound of footsteps came rapidly closer.

Blake squeezed Samson’s shoulder. “We’ll find her. As Haven said, she might just be out there thinking she can help. Doesn’t have to mean that guy got to her. It was three hours before sunrise when she left me the voice message around half past four.” He pointed to the monitor, indicating where the boys had just discovered Isabelle’s previous location. Then he glanced at the wall clock, making quick calculations in his head. “Sunrise was at 7:20. According to the recording, the kidnapper figured out only shortly before sunrise that his accomplice snatched the wrong girl. He wouldn’t have had a chance to get to Katie, not during daytime.” Then he addressed Thomas, “Put an APB out on her car.”

Wes rushed in. “I have a better idea.”

All heads turned to the witch.

“I can scry for her. It’ll take me an hour or two. I need something personal to get a lock on her. It’ll get us to the general area of where she is. Once we’re closer, I’ll scry again to get a more accurate location. It’s not quite like GPS, but it’s better than nothing. I can find her.”

“Do it!” Samson ordered.

“I’ll get a crew ready,” Blake interrupted. “And then we’ll pick her up wherever she is and won’t let her out of our sight anymore. She must have the letters with her. Once we get our hands on them, we’ll have a better idea whether they can offer us any clues that can lead us to the kidnapper.”

“I’m going with Wes,” Haven offered.

Wes shook his head immediately. “You may be needed here. But I might need some fighting power, just in case. You never know what our dear sister has gotten herself into.” He motioned to the monitors. “I’ll take one of the boys with me.”

“Not on your own, you won’t,” Blake objected and jerked his shoulder toward the screen. “Any of them will run roughshod over you. I’m coming with you. You’ll need more than just one hybrid to back you up.” He turned back to the monitors.

“I heard that,” Grayson commented.

“You were supposed to.” Blake refrained from rolling his eyes. “Guys, mission is over. Come back to HQ. Bring the cell and Mendoza’s computer and drop the stuff off with Thomas. He’ll run the recording through voice recognition and see if we can get a match.” He exchanged a look with the head of IT, who nodded.

“On our way,” Ryder responded.

“And I’m coming with you to find Katie,” Grayson added.

Blake lifted an eyebrow and gave a wry laugh. “Of course you are.” He switched off the mic and turned to Samson. “He’s a lot like you, you know.”

“Yeah, I’m afraid so.”

16

Katie gave Luther a sideways glance as he brought the car to a stop at the end of a dirt road. It was pitch black outside. The moon was obstructed by clouds and the only artificial light around them were the headlights of her car.

Luther had gotten rid of the ripped and bloodstained shirt he’d worn the previous night and helped himself to a fresh one from the closet of the house they’d slept in.

“We’re here,” he announced and switched off the engine.

Katie was already reaching for the door handle, when she felt a hand on her forearm. She spun her head to Luther. Even in the darkness his eyes seemed to sparkle with gold flecks.

“You can still change your mind and wait here for me.”

“Not a chance.”

He grunted as if he’d expected her response. “Suit yourself.” He opened the driver’s side door and got out. Katie followed on the passenger side.

The chill of the December night air was more severe here. They were at a slightly higher elevation than San Francisco, and though it didn’t snow at this altitude, she could feel the difference in temperature. Instinctively she shivered despite her cardigan. She always kept a change of clothes in the trunk of her car, but unfortunately a thick jacket had not been part of her emergency overnight bag.

“Should have taken that jacket from the closet.”

At Luther’s words she glanced at him. “I don’t steal.”

He scoffed, a derisive look in his dark orbs. “No you don’t, do you? You’ve never even taken as much as a piece of candy as a child? Never committed the tiniest of crimes?”

Her pulse began to race as memories tried to push to the surface. She clenched her jaw. “I don’t steal,” she repeated.

Luther nodded as if he’d caught her in a lie. “Of course not. You’re as pure as the driven snow. Is that why you want to become an accessory now? Because you want to know what it feels like to commit a crime?” A low grunt echoed through the night. He stepped away from the car and walked toward the thicket.

Katie marched after him. “I’m not committing a crime.”

He looked over his shoulder. “Oh yeah? What do you call what we’re about to do?”