Taboo (A Tale of the Talhari Book 1) (4 page)

He didn’t say anything for a few seconds. Then he threw his hands into the air, setting off a flurry of muscle activity under his shirt. “You give me your word that you won’t do anything stupid, that you’ll do as I say, and I’ll let you help.”

“Agreed.” She offered him her hand.

Chapter Four

Since she was on foot she rode with him. Predictably, he drove a black SUV with leather seats and a variety of techno gadgets she couldn’t begin to know the use of.

“You’re ex-military?” she asked him.

“Why? Do I look ex-military?”

She looked at his long, wavy hair, the cocky way he held his mouth, and decided that no, he didn’t look ex-military. “So how did you get into this line of work?” was her next question.

“Are you married?” he asked, surprising her.

“No. Why do you ask?”

“Curious.”

He glanced at her, then down at her left hand. “Boyfriend?”

“Why does that matter?”

“I’d just be curious to meet the man who’d let his lady walk deserted parks at night and hunt down supernatural beasts during the day.”

“I’m single. Now answer my question. How did you get into this line of work?”

“What kind of work is it that you think I’m into?”

“Paranormal investigations. Obviously. But you and your team aren’t the record and watch type of investigators. You only get involved in dangerous situations. Am I right?”

He looked at her with those piercing eyes again and grinned. “So far.”

“But you’re not like a regular human. Neither are your friends. So there must be some kind of government involvement.”

“You think?”

“Yes. I’ve read about stuff like this before. Genetic alterations. Super soldiers and all that. Is that what you are, a super soldier?”

He looked at her again, without answering.

He drove on Rivermont until it became Boonsboro Road. He made a right onto a side street, and after that she lost all sense of direction. Within minutes they were on a back road that twisted through the trees. It was narrow and pocked and she was suddenly not so sure getting into the truck with him had been a good idea. Sure, he’d saved her life, but that could have been a necessity at the moment. She didn’t know anything about this man.

“Where are we going?” she asked.

“The motherhouse.”

“The what?”

“The motherhouse. It’s where I work.”

“You work at a place called the motherhouse?”

He pulled to the curb in front of a tall, black wrought iron gate. He powered his window down, leaned out and started talking.

“Alaric with guest.”

“Any designation for the guest?” a female voice answered.

“Annoying.”

“Excuse me?”

“No, no designation.”

The gate slid open and Alaric drove in.

The first thing Sydney noticed was that the driveway was made of a glossy black stone. It was smooth and to her eyes, looked expensive. Whatever this motherhouse was, they sure didn’t skimp on luxuries.

Her attention snapped from the driveway when the house came into view.

“This is where you work?”

“Work and live,” he answered.

It wasn’t so much a house as it was a compound. The acreage looked to spread out as far as the eye could see. There was a main house that was four stories and, in a word, massive. Then there were three smaller buildings spread out on the property. She spied a tennis court in the backyard, a field littered with what looked like equipment of some kind, and a pool.

She whistled. “Total government involvement. If this is where you live and work, it ain’t cheap.”

He looked at her again, then laughed.

“I’m right, aren’t I?”

“No comment.”

He parked and they got out. A set of double doors led into the house. She followed him into a small vestibule where two oversized men stood, barring a second set of double doors. They too were dressed in black, only, they had weapons.

She gave the edge of his shirt a tug. “This is where you live?”

“Security is necessary for the work we do here.”

As they neared the interior doors, the two men nodded at Alaric and stepped aside. One pushed open a door for them.

She followed Alaric through.

The interior was as swank as she imagined it would be. They appeared to be in a foyer. Chairs were positioned around the room. Plush area carpets covered the floor. It was opulence at its best.

“We’re up on the second floor.” He led her to a stairway and started up.

“How many of you are there?”

“Five on my team.”

“That’s it?”

“That’s all we need. If the threat proves too great for our numbers, we can always call in more people.”

She followed him off the stairs and down a hall. “This place is huge for five people.”

He didn’t respond, so she contented herself with watching the way the muscles in his legs flexed as he walked. His backside looked incredible, too, she realized, surprised that she’d even notice such a thing on the heels of such a horrific night.

“You still back there?” he asked.

She looked up and nearly tripped over her own feet. He was looking at her over his shoulder.

She cleared her throat. “So there are more of you. Clearly, government.”

Grinning, he led her to the second to last room on the left, took out a card key, then inserted it.

“I work hard on that ass. Glad to see my work appreciated.”

She wanted the floor to open up and suck her inside. “Uh…” what should she say? Nothing. She’d say nothing. She’d look at the door and keep her mouth shut.

On the door a green light flashed on.

“I noticed you work on yours, too. Lovely.”

Her face went hot.

“Sydney?”

Crap! Now she had to look at him.

Taking a deep breath, she looked up from the door. Her heart jerked into her throat when her eyes met his. He stared at her for a few seconds, making her feel a little light headed.

“You ready for this?” he asked.

“Obviously.”

He pushed open the door and stepped in.

The room was massive and fitted out like some kind of command center. It had a dining area and living area. The dining area was where everything had been set up. There were at least three open laptops on the dining room table, two of them with people attached, staring intently at the screens. There was a humongous cork board stuck to a wall, with various items stuck to it. She saw pictures of the same missing people she’d looked at today. There was a map of Lynchburg and also a series of notes accompanying everything attached to the board.

Two people were moving around the room when she entered.

All four occupants stopped what they were doing when she crossed the threshold. As one, they looked at her.

“This is Sydney,” Alaric announced as he led her deeper into the room. “You remember her from last night.”

“Hey Sydney.”

“Hi Sydney.”

“What up?”

“Hey!”

“You’re looking better than you did last night.”

The speaker was the woman with the black hair.

“Unfortunately I don’t feel better,” Sydney said. “I want to get to the bottom of my friend’s death.”

“And that’s why I’ve decided to let Sydney help us,” Alaric said. “She knows this town. She has a background in history and is familiar with the neighborhoods and people.”

Sydney had expected them to put up a fight, but the most any of them did was nod.

“Sydney,” Alaric said, stepping next to a rather large man with an olive complexion and long black hair, “this is Paul. He’s been with me longer than anyone. He’s positively lethal with a sword, so make sure you don’t piss him off.”

Paul rolled his eyes. “I’m sorry we didn’t get to you sooner, Sydney. Glad to have you on board.”

Alaric moved to the next guy, a black man with creamy chocolate colored skin. He had braids and light blue eyes that were startling considering his brown skin. He was exotic and unnaturally beautiful.

“This is Joshua,” Alaric said, motioning toward the black man. “Believe it or not, he’s Russian. Found him on the streets of Moscow.”

“Trying to pick my pocket,” Paul threw in.

“And he nearly cut my fingers off,” Joshua said, grinning. “Mind what Alaric said about Paul and his knives. Nothing makes him so happy than to dismember something.”

Paul threw his head back and laughed. “But I didn’t even cut you.”

“Because Alaric stopped you.”

“Indeed. To this day I wonder if he knew we’d come across you again.”

The three men looked at each other, then Alaric turned to face the brunette.

“The mouth over there is Rhonda,” he said of the raven haired one. “She is our resident succubus.”

“Don’t tell her that,” Rhonda complained. “She might believe you.” Rhonda looked at Sydney, shaking her head. “I am not a succubus. I’m just not above using the gifts God gave me to lure in a kill.” She winked.

“And this,” he said, indicating a brown skinned female with long, straight hair, “is Trina. She’s our secret weapon.”

Trina grinned. “I’m small so the beasts we come across don’t think I’m a threat.”

“And entirely too cute,” Paul added. “How could someone so tiny and cute be dangerous?”

Trina smiled winningly at him.

“But cute as she is, she is dangerous,” Alaric said, finishing the introductions.

Sydney waved awkwardly, muttered a, “Nice to meet you all. Thanks for saving my life last night.”

Alaric walked around the table and went to the board. “Normally we wouldn’t do this, but since you’ve already seen what’s out there and are dead set on putting yourself in harm’s way, knowledge can only help.” He indicated one of the empty chairs at the table. “Have a seat.”

She did. “Do I have to start wearing black tee-shirts and black cargo pants, too?”

Trina frowned. “Why would you?”

“Because that’s what all of you wear.”

As though they were all controlled by the same puppet master, each looked down at their clothes, then frowned as if they’d never realized they all dressed alike. The blacks were of different hues and the cargo pants of different brands, but the look was the same.

“No muss, no fuss,” Alaric said.

Rhonda and Joshua were already seated at the table. Paul settled on the chair next to Sydney while Trina placed a narrow hip on the edge of the table beside Paul.

Alaric took up a position in front of the cork board and waited for everyone to get quiet.

“Sydney thinks our assailant last night was a vampire,” he announced.

“Told you,” Rhonda shouted immediately. “Told you it was a bloodsucker.”

“No offense to you, Sydney,” Joshua began, talking to Rhonda, “but we can’t base anything on the word of a novice. She has no idea what she was looking at, or even what any of the other options might be.”

“Tell us how you came to that conclusion,” said Alaric.

“A few things,” Sydney said. “It had fangs and it looked kind of human. Its pallor was bluish, as though it had once been alive but now was dead. And it was fast and strong. And it ripped…” she stopped to take a breath, “…it ripped Cora’s throat out without much effort. With its bare hands.” She looked down at her own hands. “There was blood everywhere. And it lapped at her blood as though it were starving. If I hadn’t seen it with my own eyes I’d never believe it. I don’t know how vampires could be real, but I know what I saw last night.”

“Believe me chickie, vamps are real.” Trina gave Sydney’s shoulder a squeeze. “So are werewolves and mummies—”

“The walking dead,” Rhonda added. “If you think vampires are ugly, you won’t believe zombies.”

“Yeah,” said Paul, “but they’re not so high on the danger scale. Yeah, they smell like death—no pun intended—but they’re slow and stupid. The worst thing about zombies is the panic they cause. I’ve seen more people kill each other trying to get away from a harmless little hive than the hive itself could have killed.”

“Is it true what they say in movies?” Sydney asked, reeling from the revelations and their nonchalance.

“What do they say?” Alaric asked.

“If they bite you, you become one?”

“Unfortunately, that is true.”

“How about for vampires?”

“Nah,” said Rhonda. “A bloodsucker has to want to make you. It takes more than a bite.”

“And bloodsuckers are far more dangerous,” Alaric added. “Depending on their generation, they can maintain much of the intelligence they had when they were human, but the bloodlust rules them. They’re like heroin addicts, but the blood is their heroin.”

“Good analogy,” Trina said.

“What’s a generation?” Sydney asked.