MisStaked (50 page)

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Authors: J. Morgan

BOOK: MisStaked
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In spite of the rain and cold the man was glad to be free of his companions. Brogan was tired of words. He'd spoken more in the past week than he had in the past ten years. It was beginning to wear on him. Truthfully, he needed some time to himself.

This whole situation was getting out of hand. Brogan needed to get some perspective. He was used to acting on his own. Most of his assignments were one man in, one man out and liked it like that. He didn't enjoy having people depending on him for backup, or having to depend on somebody else, for that matter. This time, it was a different game altogether. For the first time in ages Brogan needed some help and it left him uneasy.

He knew his bosses well enough to know they weren't about to offer any. CAPP SAT wasn't about to stick their necks out any further than they already had. They were putting a tight lid on things as it was. He hadn't wanted to say anything to Luna, but was sure this whole episode would be swept under the rug, Black Ops all the way.

Who was he trying to fool? They were going to be so black even he wouldn't know about them. His superiors hadn't come out and said so, but Brogan knew how to read between the lines.

He was on his own. The PTBs—powers that be—wouldn't be contacting the US authorities, either. CAPP SAT didn't want this getting out. Brogan was used to such things when it came to his job, but he had to wonder how far they would go to keep things quiet. More importantly, how far they wanted him to go to make it stay quiet.

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Fifty Four

Vampires are the most dangerous when cornered in their homes, so don't do that.

D'brea was nervous. She felt the coming dusk and was afraid. All afternoon, she sensed herself slowly slipping away. She had thought hiding in Stud's body would be enough to keep her spirit together. She was wrong. Her last hope was nightfall would give her the strength to hold it together until her companions returned her to her body.

She had watched them deal with Breathred's loss and still found their reactions strange. He was just one man, yet they acted like he was the entire world. The girl had been trying to sleep throughout the day, but had yet to find the rest her spirit needed. D'brea's heart went out to her. She wondered what it felt like to love someone that much.

Her host was not immune to these feelings. She caught glimpses of his emotions when his mental shields were down. He cared for the man as much as the girl, if not more. The chimp's bluster hid the fears that consumed his every waking thought.

Finally, she induced the sleep he so badly needed. D'brea wished she could do the same for Luna. She had tried, but her powers were just too weak to do more than send a calming wave throughout the room. It took the edge off the tension but did little else. The girl had stopped pacing, so it achieved the desired effect to a certain degree. Nothing short of an elephant tranquilizer would put the girl down, but every little bit helped.

D'brea shifted Stud's head toward the little window overlooking the storefront. Her gaze had constantly been turned toward the street. It was strange to see the things for herself that her mind had glimpsed during her slumber. The plane ride had only been the start of the marvels she witnessed. It made her thirst for the feel of her own body.

It also made her wonder if she was willing to return to the sleep she had enjoyed. No, she would not return to her old half-life again. D'brea wouldn't be a slave to her vampiric children either. She was ready to live. Would Breathred and his friends feel the same way?

The opening of the door tore her from her thoughts. Joan waved as he tiptoed into the room, trying to be quiet so Luna could rest. She could have told him not to bother, but held her tongue. The girl was pretending to be asleep. D'brea saw her lift an eyelid when the door opened. The girl shut it as soon as she caught sight of the big man.

"Brogan just called. He's on his way up,” Joan announced in a hushed whisper.

Luna sat up. “Is it time to go, already?"

D'brea felt the excitement uncoil from where it sat in the girl's gut.

"Not yet. We still have a little time left. Try and get some rest before you strain something important.” Joan laughed and flicked her fingers at the girl.

"I couldn't, if I wanted to.” Luna threw the quilt off, swung her legs around and pouted.

"Don't give me that face. It didn't work when you were a kid and it ain't working now.” Joan reached down and pulled Luna's cheeks up until a forced smile plastered the girl's face.

Luna batted away the man's hands. “Stop it! I'm not five years old, anymore."

"Touchy. Touchy.” Joan shook her finger at Luna. “Then, stop acting like it."

Before Joan could say another word, Brogan walked through the door. Luna nearly leapt for joy to see him. D'brea believed the girl would have been grateful to see the devil himself walk through the door, if it meant stopping one of her uncle's tirades.

"So, what did you find out?” Luna turned to Brogan once he sat down, hoping it was enough to distract Joan from any more mothering.

"Not much. I thought I might score some intel, but nothing.” Brogan slumped into an open seat with a loud sigh. “Nobody knows anything. Or they won't talk."

"Well, I've got a plan.” Luna's gaze swept across the group to see if she was the only one.

"Shoot, this is your show, as far as I'm concerned.” Brogan rocked back in the chair. “The closest thing I got to a plan is buying fake vamp teeth and knocking on the front door posing as Avon ladies."

"All right. The way I see it, Leopold will be expecting Stud and me. He'll figure Brogan will stay in Canada, and has no idea at all about Joan.” She paused long enough to see if they were following her. “So, I think me and Stud should just walk up to the front door and knock. While we distract Leopold, Brogan, you and Joan find a back way in."

"And we get Breathred and D'brea, while he's busy killing you two. Nice plan, but I don't think so.” Brogan eyes went wide. “I've heard some crazy shit in my life but that tops it all. That's not a plan. It's a recipe for suicide."

"I hate to say it but she's right. If we come at them head on, he won't be expecting you. Come on, Brogan. You know us. This is so crazy Leopold'll buy it.” Stud said. “I hated to say anything, especially when it might involve me getting killed, but I can't think of anything else that'll work."

"You're forgetting something. D'brea'll be along with us. She's our ace in the hole.” Luna said. Brogan had to see that with D'brea along, they'd have all the protection they needed.

"Joan, what do you think?” Brogan asked.

"I'm like you. Luna's mama would skin me alive for putting her in danger, but I can't see any other way.” Joan stared blankly into the air for a moment. Just as quick, the moment passed. “Runs Like agrees with Luna. He sees no other way. This is the path we must follow."

"See, Brogan? You have to go along with my plan.” Luna sat forward with a smug look on her face.

"Count me in.” Brogan sighed, as he turned from the window. “In for a penny, in for a pounding, as my dad used to say before the whippings started."

D'brea listened to the friends, but didn't speak. She had her own thoughts about the plan and Luna's dependence upon her and saw no reason to disabuse the girl's notions. Perhaps when her spirit was again close to her body, her powers would return to their full strength. Yeah, and unicorns would dance a jig out of this monkey's butt. Only blood would strengthen her. The only hope D'brea had was her body would be reawakened. Then, she could return to it.

At least that was her hope. It was a slim one at best, and not one she wished to voice. D'brea didn't want to talk at all, afraid her feeble voice would betray her weakness to the others. Pride was an old sin she had cultivated to the extreme, and one she wasn't about to throw it away now.

The first threads of dusk were hidden behind the mounting storm-heads. Through her connection with Stud, D'brea heard the others rising from their seats. Soon, they would leave. Already, she sensed the urgency in Stud's thoughts to be gone from this place. She wondered how ready he would be, if the chimp truly understood what he was about to face. Probably, he was stupid enough to ignore the obvious.

* * * *

Leopold was so giddy with anticipation he hadn't been able to sleep. He simply stared at the satin lining all day, counting a thousand individual threads before growing bored with the project. Lewis had been thoughtful enough to put the mail in before retiring for the day. Most of it was worthless, like all mail tended to be. But, sweet nirvana greeted him at the bottom of the pile. So, he spent the remainder of the afternoon reading his new issue of Vogue by flashlight.

The vampire was thinking about getting one of those refrigerator lights installed in the coffin. That would save him a fortune in batteries. The clerk at the Buy-U-More was constantly giving him the strangest of looks, when he pushed the rattling death trap of a cart through the checkout. The first few times, Leopold chalked it up to unrequited feelings of a purely sexual nature and nothing more. He tended to have a powerful effect on the weaker willed.

Then, the abuse became highly vocal and of a personal nature that Leopold could not dismiss. It was most unsettling to be harangued by a blue-frocked, prepubescent, closet masturbator. Finally, he had decided to avoid the subject altogether by being especially snippy to the pimply-faced buffoon. It seemed to work, except for the fact the clerk wiggled his finger and made an annoying buzzing sound every time he went through his checkout.

But, that was not important now. The dark was coming and with it the greatest achievement of his long life. The resurrection of the Mother would show Marcus and the rest of those old women he had the balls to do what they were too afraid to do. After tonight they would be the ones bowing and scraping to his will. No more putting up with the high and mighty council and their womanish ways.

They were the vampiric lords created by the hand of the Mother herself. For countless ages they enforced the law that no vampire should reveal him- or herself to the human world. Some of their laws were simply ridiculous. Why should they hide? They were the ones with the power, not the humans. When he and the Mother were finished, everyone—vampires and humans—would know who held the true power.

Oh, Leopold knew he wouldn't be the one in power, but he knew behind every woman was a man who did the dirty work. He would be that man, as long as he didn't get dirty doing it. He planned to buy a whole new wardrobe befitting a man of his vaulted position. Leopold must order new catalogues from the finest shops. No more would he be forced to wear chain department store knock-offs and bootleg seconds from Thailand sweatshops that still smelled of forced child labor. No, he would dress like the king he was born to be.

But, what of Lewis? There would be no room for two right-hand men. The younger vampire deserved some sort of remuneration for his years of semi-loyal service. A Duchy in a far off locale. It would have to be somewhere garish to fit his personality. Las Vegas, Rio, and Brooklyn sprang to mind. Perhaps, it would be best to leave such decisions to a later date. The Mother would have ideas of her own. She might even want to keep Lewis as a pet. Deities were known for such dark humors.

All these fanciful notions were nothing more than that—notions to wile away the time. For Leopold had no more time to waste. Night had fallen. Outside the confines of his slumber-less coffin storm clouds masked the night, but it was there nonetheless, like a patient lover.

Leopold rose to greet his lover. He had done so for over three hundred years, but tonight it was different. Tonight, he would be its master. And, heaven help those who got in his way. He may even take the time to go to Buy-U-More and find out just what that wiggly finger meant before shoving it up ... Well, you know the rest.

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Fifty Five

Don't blame us if you get your butt killed. And don't come back and bite us on the neck, either.

The rain lessened with the coming night. It had not disappeared, but it moved toward the north at a slow, meandering gait. Luna thanked God for even a short respite.

She and Stud stood in the drizzling rain for fifteen minutes, trying to work up the courage to cross the street. Leopold's townhouse mocked them with its darkened silence. Blank windows glared, telling them only despair awaited within its confines.

Luna couldn't accept that. Breathred was in there. She stared at the huge house, looking for some indication he was still alive—like Leopold would have signs put up saying, “Virgin Hostage Inside.” It was stupid of her, but she had to look. It was the principle of the matter.

Lightning crackled above them, sending her flailing back into the shadows. The idea of revealing herself to the vampires made her skittish. It shouldn't have. That was what they were here for, wasn't it? To be perfectly honest with herself—her bravado back at Uncle Joan's had played itself out.

Stud's hand closed over hers. Luna gave him a weak smile. His returned smile looked as strained as her own must have to him. In spite of his pained look, it was nice to know she wasn't alone. Brogan and Joan were close by, but weren't here with her. For tonight, at least, Stud was her knight in shining armor. Together, they would be Breathred's.

"Luna, they should be in position by now.” Stud looked across the street.

"I know. Stud, I'm glad you're here with me at the end.” She smiled down at him, feeling a little better for his comforting hand.

"What is this the fricking last movie in a trilogy? They're just vampires, not some dark lord bent on world domination."

"You're an ass. Do you know that?"

"I try, but it's hard being this hairy and not Greek.” Stud started to laugh, but she gave him a look to say now wasn't the time.

"What does that have to do with anything?"

"Nothing. I just want it made perfectly clear—in case the subject comes up—I'm not Greek.” He made a disgusted face at the thought and spat on the murky sidewalk. “So, are you ready, or what?"

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