Phoenix Fallen (18 page)

There was a sharp intake of breath. "Fucking
hell,
man. I've heard of that one." A second's silence. "Come and get me. I'll be ready." Before Jules could say another word, Scott hung up.

Ten minutes later on the dot, Scott walked out of his front door, Fannie at his heels, her wild halo of curls backlit by the porch light. She didn't say a word as Scott threw a duffel in the trunk or when Scott opened the passenger door and slipped inside. Jules turned away when Scott pulled her down for a kiss that was hardly fit for public consumption.

It was only when she pulled back to let Scott shut the door that Fannie hesitated, then spoke, her voice very soft.

"Take care of him." Jules saw Scott nod, but Fannie's eyes weren't on her husband. They were on him, their weight sinking down to his very soul. He gave her his own nod and she stepped back.

Jules watched her in the rearview as they pulled away from the curve, a slim, dark line trembling in the night.

Scott insisted on stopping at Phoenix on their way out of town. He wanted a few things from the complex that he couldn't keep at home. Jules was loathe to do anything to slow them down, but Cross hadn't stopped yet, he could still feel Rissa headed north. And Scott was right, if Miles didn't get there in time to join in, they were going to need every advantage to win this thing.

So he whipped into the circular driveway thirty minutes later and cursed as he had to jerk the wheel to avoid hitting a dark figure in running shorts.

Mags was swearing a blue streak when he rolled down the window. "Don't you ever go home, damnit?"

"Don’t you watch where you're fucking going, boss man? Jesus fucking Christ—"

"We have a situation, Mags and I didn't expect—"

Scott had rolled out the passenger side door and was off across the flagged stone entryway at a lope, ignoring them both. Jules turned back to Mags, "—I didn't expect anyone to be here for god's sake."

Her flushed face went alert. "What situation? What's going on, J?"

"It's…shit, you remember that vamp who killed my family?"

"Of course." Mags would, she'd tried over and over again to help him remember Cross's face.

"He's back. He was at my house tonight. With Rissa."

"That vampire chick, your woman?"

Jules didn't bother to correct her. "Yes."

Mags opened the back door as Scott moved back into sight, another duffel in his arms.
Jesus, that fucker was fast.
Jules's eyes went to Mags, who was already fastening her seat belt.

"What the fuck are you doing, Foley?"

"Coming with you. Tell me you couldn't use another body…especially a telepath?"

Jules' mouth tightened into a thin line as the trunk slammed again and Scott's footsteps rounded the car. She was right. They could use her. Hell, the more the merrier. Cross wanted to play, well, they would show that sick fuck how the game went down.

Mags smiled as Scott shut his door. "Shut up and drive, boss man. Let's do this."

And so Jules drove, Rissa's bracelet dangling over the steering wheel where he clutched it in his fingers.

We're coming, damnit. Just hold on, Rissa.

Hold the fuck
on.

              Rissa sat on Daimen's lap, her spine straight and stiff as his hands wandered. Not that he was in earnest, not yet. He just wanted to rattle her. Rissa refused to give him the satisfaction. She didn't squirm or flush, just kept her chin up and her eyes cool. Daimen seemed amused by her poise, he watched her avidly as the car shot down the highway. Every once in awhile, his power flicked a cool tongue over her skin, just playing with her.

Ratcheting up the tension in her spine.

Exhausting her bit by bit.

              She couldn't stop him.

No more than she could stop what was coming. Despite what Jules had said to her when he left, she'd seen his eyes tonight. He would be coming for her, there was no way he'd leave her at Daimen's mercy. No matter how he felt about her now, he wasn't that kind of man. She also knew how badly he wanted to kill Cross. Yes. Jules would be coming. And now he had an edge.

Her bracelet
. If Jules could get to wherever Daimen was taking her before Daimen expected him to….

Jules wouldn't be alone either. Surely not. Daimen had no idea what he'd stepped into. He didn't seem to have a clue who Jules really was, or who he was involved with. Which was curious, but not terribly surprising.

Daimen had always shunned other paras, preferring to embrace his shade nature fully. And he absolutely hated vamps or other shades that choose to live peaceably among humans. He'd never embraced the modern world. He didn't watch TV or use a computer. At least not when she'd been with him. Things could've changed, of course, but she rather doubted it. Daimen was the epitome of
old school.

              Rissa blinked to see Daimen was giving her a speculative look. "Who turned your lover?"

She only lifted her chin higher. He sighed in disappointment. "Miss Riss, do you all
really
want to do this the hard way? Not that I mind, of course." His hand closed over her breast and squeezed. Viciously enough to make her gasp. The vamp next to him turned, watching them with heated eyes. Daimen gave a low, meaningful growl.

Immediately the man looked away, but Daimen was smiling slyly when he looked back at Rissa.

He lifted his eyebrows. "You see? If you force me to play rough, there are others who will be more than happy to participate. I don't really
want
to let them touch you, but if you force my hand…," Daimen shrugged.

Rissa shuddered before she could stop herself, but forced herself to look him in the eye. "You won't get inside my head again. Not for that."

He gave a satisfied laugh. "Oh Rissa. Yes, I
will.
But I don't
have
to be inside your mind for that, do I? Rape the old-fashioned way is not nearly as exciting, but it will do." Behind Daimen's shoulder, she saw the other vampire looking at her again, his tongue to his lips, his eyes avid and Rissa had to look away. Staring out at the dark night flashing by as Daimen's laughter continued to ring in her ears.

It was almost two hours before Jules stopped the XLS.

On the way, Scott grilled him for every detail he could remember about Cross along with everything Rissa had told him. Mags was curled in the back, her head resting on the window, just listening. Jules could see her eyes flicker to his now and then in the rearview mirror, just watching. When Scott was done, she asked a few questions of her own, then had him go back over one of Rissa's descriptions of Cross taking over her emotions.

Like an oily nest of snakes, slithering inside you. Cold and slimy. Into your heart, your mind. And then they squeeze …and you don't even know who you are any more, Jules. You're just gone. And Daimen is everywhere. Everything.

Mags pressed her lips together, nodded once and asked no more questions. She simply looked out the window, her blue eyes blank.

The woods were thick and damp in the heat of the August night as they all spilled out of Jules’ car. Even so, Jules saw Mags shiver.

“Can you feel them?” He asked her.

Mags nodded slowly. “Him. I can feel
Cross.
Over there. Oily. Black. Just like Rissa described.” She waved vaguely into the trees.

Scott was full game on already. His body language had changed from the easy, goofy guy at home, becoming both slower and heavier both, but somehow more fluid as well. From house cat to tiger in a blink of an eye.

Jules had seen the transformation before, but it never failed to unnerve him a little. Jules was no slouch in the tough guy department. He had years of training under his own belt, particularly in Maui Thai, better known as kickboxing. Jules also practiced Jeet Kune Do, which was influenced heavily by the legendary Bruce Lee.

The discipline over the years had smoothed out his rough edges, but that skinny, scrappy kid who’d come up in a Ninth Ward orphanage was still inside him and always would be, no matter how big and bad he looked on the outside.

Scott was different. Scott could shed his hippie exterior and become a stone cold killer between one breath and the next. Jules watched him move lithely to the trunk, popping it as he looked over at Mags. “When’s the last time you fired a .45, Mags?”

Jules knew Scott had worked with Mags before in the training sessions he occasionally held at Phoenix, but none of those sessions involved firearms for the paras, something Jules knew Scott vehemently disagreed with. This was one hippie who was a big believer in firearms for all.

Mags rolled her eyes. “I don’t need a cannon, Scott. Or a gun at all. You know that.”

Scott  snorted. “Everyone gets a gun, Mags, even the vamp.” He jerked his head toward Jules. “So, do you remember how to use one or not, little lady?” With a disgusted look, she snatched the gun from his hand. In a series of fluid movements she ejected the clip, checked it, popped it back in, chambered a round and set the safety before tucking the gun into the waistband of her jeans flush against the small of her back.

Scott grinned at her. “That would be a yes.”

She smirked back and leaned one shoulder against a tree. Scott pulled out two more Rutgers, tucking one in his own waistband exactly as Mags had and handing the other to Jules, who safety checked it before slipping it in his jacket pocket.

Jules watched Scott take his custom Sig Sauer from his shoulder holster, performing his own safety check as he talked. “Now, obviously, bullets aren’t going to kill a vamp. You both know that. Even a .45. The lead in bullets is way too small and impure to do more than put a nasty hole in most shades. But it’ll piss them off and slow them down some. You said there was at least three others with Cross?” Scott locked eyes with Jules, who nodded shortly. “And there could be more here. In fact, I would bet on it. Mags, can you give me a head count?"

She frowned, her eyes blanking out for a second or two. "Cross is close to the woman. Along with one other. Three…no, four outside. Two close to the trailer, two out farther in the woods."

"Can you get inside Cross enough to give me a visual of the interior?”

Mags made a sour face. “No, sorry. He’s way strong, I could push, but he’d know someone was here. He's distracted right now, I can feel that, but he's still alert.”

Distracted.
Jules' stomach knotted, but he didn't ask what the telepath might mean by that. He didn't want to know.

Scott nodded shortly at this information. "What about Rissa?"

Mags was already shaking her head. "His power is too broad, there is like this thick, greasy fog around all of them inside. That's him. If I try to bond with her, he'll probably know it in seconds." The telepath wouldn't look at Jules. Those knots in his stomach tightened.

"Okay, so going in mostly blind, it is. Still…we know enough to be going on with. I'd go in first, do a proper scout, but seeing as we're talking about vamps, I'm leery about alerting them…"

"I thought you were good, white boy." Jules snapped.

"I
am
good, and also smart enough to know when not to risk not being quite good enough. Any ETA on Rousseau?"

Jules checked his phone. He'd sent the coordinates, as near as he could figure anyway, to Miles 45 minutes ago, when Rissa's location had become stable. Kelsey's power would easily fine tune that. She'd be able to lock on Jules anywhere in the world. The answering text simply said, "On approach to Chicago. Landing in 10 minutes." That was a half hour ago. Jules shook his head. "Probably an hour, at least."

Scott nodded. "We don't have an hour to kill. This whole thing could turn on Cross and his buddies being surprised." He turned to Jules, a stiffness in his shoulders that made Jules curious until he opened his mouth, "you need to let me take down Cross, Jules."

Jules stepped forward his face rigid. "No, that fucker-"

"That fucker," Scott interrupted coolly, "is too fucking
personal
for you. You want him, Jules? You really want him put down?"

Jules nodded, grinding his teeth.

"Then let me do my job and get him for you."

"What if he tries to control you?"

Scott waved a dismissive hand. "As long as I kept my power close around me, I doubt he'll be able to get to me that way. Plants aren't emotional, Jules, not the way people are. I can use their essence as a shield."

"You doubt it?"

"Well, having never had had the pleasure of going up against a psycho pathokinetic vamp murderer before, I'm just making an educated guess…but I've got a lot of education, kemosabe."

Jules folded his arms. Veins pounded in his head and neck, but even that told him Scott was right. He was too volatile right now, too off. He'd focus on Rissa and trust Scott to get Daimen.

"Don't let me down, you hippie bastard."

"Not a chance." Scott bent down, then looked up at Mags.

“How about you? Will Cross be able to get inside you?”

The telepath gave a thin smile. “He can try. I really hope he tries. I’ll rip his sick, shitty little mind out through his ears.”