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Authors: Keri Arthur

Flameout (26 page)

BOOK: Flameout
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“Then what about his father? The man who was watching from the park?”

No response. I flicked a hand, and a sliver of flame jumped from my wall and curled around his neck.

“Answer me, or die. Your choice.” The three behind him shifted. Several more fiery leashes broke away from the wall and corralled them. Jackson's doing, not mine.

“I suggest you talk to the lady,” he said. “Unless, of course, you'd really prefer an inglorious death over the prospect of living on to avenge your master's death.”

The lead vampire's gaze narrowed. “You know who we are?”

“We do.”

“How? We haven't crossed paths before.”

“No,” Jackson agreed equably, “but Emberly and I run this business together and, subsequently, share information.”

“And it's not hard to remember the gritty details of idiots who attack me in a graveyard,” I added.

He grunted. His expression was dark and his eyes gleamed with the promise of death. He wasn't finished with me yet. Would never be finished, not until either he or I was dead. It made me wonder why they were so convinced that avenging their maker's death would make things right again.

And why were they still running loose anyway? The elders usually jumped on this type of situation pretty fast, given the last thing they needed when human relations were already so tense was a leaderless lair raising hell.

“What about the other man?” I repeated.

“Who?”

I rolled my eyes again. “Denny Rosen Senior? The man you used as bait to get us here.”

He once again played mute. I tightened the fiery cord around his neck. His skin began to blister, but little emotion crossed his face. I wasn't sure if he was simply putting on a brave face, or if he really
was
that tough.

“Answer the damn question,” Jackson said. “Otherwise the police will find nothing more than ash.”

The vampire's gaze shot back to Jackson. “You've called them?”

“Before we entered this building, vampire. So either speak to us or speak to them. Your choice.”

“If I
do
answer your questions, will you let us go?”

“Vampire, it's daylight outside. You've nowhere to go unless you want to fry, and I've a feeling that's not on your agenda right now.”

“You'd be right. There is, however, basement access.”

And
that
was how they'd gotten in. It probably also meant they had a driver waiting—a very well-protected driver, if it was another of their lair mates.

“Have we a deal?” he added.

I glanced briefly at Jackson, who said, “That would depend.”

“On what?”

“On whether Denny is alive or not.”

The vamp snorted. “We are not so young that we cannot control our feeding.”

Meaning they'd
all
fed on him. “So why is he so quiet? Are you controlling him?”

“Yes. It is not a hard undertaking with one so foolish.”

I raised an eyebrow at the hint of arrogance in that reply. “Did you also force him to ring us?”

He smiled again. It was still a god-awful sight. “He was already on the phone when we entered. The hysteria you heard wasn't so much caused by the presence of his father in the park, but rather his sudden inability to say anything other than what I commanded.” He paused. “Do we have a deal?”

“Answer all of our questions and we'll consider it,” I said. “What happened to Rosen?”

“Nothing. We were not here for him.”

“And how did you know about our connection to him and Denny?”

“We were informed.”

“By whom.”

He pressed the
MUTE
button again. I sighed and raised a hand. The cord around his neck tightened briefly. “You know, I'm told healing from a burned larynx is a long and painful process.”

A remote smile touched the vampire's lips. “If I can't talk, I can't answer questions.”

“No, but I daresay one of your companions will.” They were, after all, looking damn uncomfortable right now—not surprising given Jackson's control wasn't as tight as mine, and their clothes were beginning to smolder.

The vampire's gaze swept my face, and whatever he saw obviously convinced him I meant what I said. Something he
should
already be aware of, given he'd been one of the vamps in the cemetery.

“The hive master told us he would be coming.”

“And did he also tell when to arrive?”

“No. It was simply a matter of coincidental timing.”

Luke would have known the vamps were hungry for vengeance, so I doubted that. He'd probably intended them as a form of insurance for Rosen—that we'd be so busy fighting
them
that Rosen could escape if necessary.

“What did he do when he was here?”

“He was looking for something. He didn't find it.”

“And you know this how?”

“Because he opened the safe then went into a rage.” The vampire hesitated, and a smile briefly touched his lips. It did nothing to alleviate the sternness of his thin features. “He kept saying, ‘the bitch, the bitch.' I very much suspect he was talking about you.”

More than likely, given most of the problems Luke was having of late
was
basically due to interference from me and Jackson. But why would he think
I
was responsible for the removal of whatever Rosen had been storing here? It wasn't like we'd had much to do with Denny after we'd come here to discuss the murder of his lover. But maybe
that
was enough. Luke had to be aware of the antagonism between father and son, so maybe he figured it would have been easy for us to sweet-talk the information—and whatever had been stored in the safe—from Denny. “What happened after that?”

The vampire shrugged. “He left. We did not.”

Why would Luke order Rosen to leave? Why wouldn't he order him to look around for either his son or whatever he'd been sent to retrieve? “He didn't know you were here?”

“No.”

My eyebrows rose. “Why are you so sure?”

“Because I touched his mind. It was weirdly empty.”

It couldn't have been too empty—not if he fell into a rage when he discovered the stuff he wanted wasn't in the safe. And if Rosen
was
now a part of the hive, that rage would have been at least partially Luke's. “Weird how?”

“There were no memories, no thought, just complete and utter concentration on the task he'd been given.”

“Did you feel anyone else in his mind?”

“As far as I could tell, he was not being controlled.”

Meaning whoever controlled Rosen—if it wasn't
Luke—had withdrawn the second he'd—or she'd—sensed the vampire's touch. “When did this happen?”

“We weren't paying too much attention to the time, but I believe Rosen arrived about five minutes after his son placed the call to you.”

Which still should have left him time to at least look around the apartment for his son or the missing items—so either Luke truly believed we'd taken the items, or he was worried about us arriving and grabbing Rosen.

“That fire engine is drawing closer,” the vampire added. “We've cooperated with you. Let us go.”

I glanced at Jackson. “What do you think?”

“Check on Denny first. I'm not about to trust the word of scum determined to kill us.”

“I'm not lying,” the vamp snapped.

Maybe not, but releasing them would only mean they were free to come after us again.

But killing them would now be a cold-blooded act, and I wasn't exactly up for that, either.

I stepped around them and walked into the bedroom. Denny lay on the bed, his eyes closed and his breathing rapid. He was as naked as the day he was born, and his neck, torso, and thighs were littered with bloody bite marks of different sizes.

A shudder ran through me. I'd experienced the bite of a vampire only once, but it was a moment in time that still haunted me. Some vampires
did
make it pleasurable, but the one who'd taken my life sure as hell hadn't. From the expression of horror locked on Denny's face, it seemed this lot didn't believe in it, either.

I knelt down beside the bed and said, “Denny, wake up.”

Not even the slightest flicker of awareness crossed his features. I frowned and glanced back at the lounge room. “Release him, vampire.”

A snort of amusement came from the other room. Denny shuddered and opened his mouth, sucking in a deep breath. I slapped a hand over his mouth before he could scream.

“Denny, you're okay. It's me, Emberly. You're safe. The vampires are under control.”

His gaze slid to mine and, after a moment, his pupils focused and relief broke through the horror. I pulled my hand away as another shudder ran through him.

“They drank from me. The bastards drank from me!”

“I know. But I need to know—”

“Are they still here?” His horror sharpened. “You haven't killed them?”

“No. But the fire brigade and police are—”

“Why the fuck haven't you killed them?” he cut in, expression furious. He tried to sit up, but I pressed a hand against his chest and stopped him. That it was so easy said a lot about the state of his strength. Perhaps he realized it, too, because he stopped struggling and collapsed back down on the bed. “You should have killed them.”

“Probably. Tell me what your father wanted.”

Denny pulled a sheet over his body, although it was a little late to worry about modesty now. “He was across the road in the park, as I said. You didn't see him?”

“No. But the vampires said he came in here, looking for something. You didn't see him?”

“No. They forced me in here as soon as I'd finished calling you, and I can't remember a whole lot after that.”

“So you have no idea what he was looking for?”

“Oh, I can certainly guess.” Amusement briefly touched his lips. They were almost translucent, as if all the color had been leached out of him—which was unsurprising given how many vampires had fed off him. “He wouldn't have found it, though.”

“Why?”

“Because I shifted the shit, that's why.”

“Why were you keeping stuff for him? Especially when you two didn't get on?”

“Because, no matter what, he was still my dad, and he just seemed desperate.” He grimaced. “I'm not such a bastard that I'd turn him away at a moment like that.”

“When did all this happen?”

“A few months ago. He said he'd had this weird visit from some reporter, and he wanted me to keep some paperwork safe. Seemed like a whole lot of shit to me, but he was insistent that I keep it under lock and key, and even watched me put it in the safe.”

“So why did you move it from the safe?” I tried to keep my voice devoid of excitement but didn't entirely succeed.

“Because it's not a huge safe, and I needed the fucking room to store an antique I bought recently.”

“So where is the paperwork now?”

He pointed under the bed. I raised my eyebrows, peered underneath, and saw an old suitcase. Rosen would no doubt have been horrified, but I guessed it was as good a spot as anywhere else in the apartment that
wasn't
the safe.

“Fire brigade is here,” Jackson said from the other room.

“Now is the time to let us go,” the vampire said.

“We didn't actually agree to that,” Jackson said sagely. “And why you'd believe otherwise given your intent to kill us both is beyond me.”

The vampire snarled and surged against the leash I held around his neck. Pain rippled as the strands stretched, and, without thinking, I snapped him back sharply. There was an odd sound that reminded of bowling pins falling, and then Jackson laughed.

“Well, that's one way of dealing with a problem.”

His footsteps echoed on the wooden flooring. I extinguished my flames, motioned Denny to stay where he was, and then rose to see what had happened. The four remaining vampires were lying in a clump on the floor. “I knocked them out?”

“You certainly did.” Jackson stopped beside me. “In a perfectly timed piece of action, you flung the head vamp backward just as I'd tightened the leash on the others, drawing them together. The resulting crash of heads was hard enough to knock them all out.”

“Brilliant, even if unintentional.” I grinned. “And at least it'll make it easier for the cops to transport them.”

“Yeah, but given one of them is a strong telepath, I'm betting they don't stay caught for too long.”

“True, but their escape might just force the elders to get off their asses and do something about the lair.” I waved a hand at the vamps. “You want to find something to tie them up with while I go meet the firemen?”

I headed downstairs. We spent the next couple of
hours dealing with not only the fire brigade, but also the cops and medical services. Thankfully, our PIT badges smoothed away a lot of awkward questions and—with the vampires taken into custody and Denny hauled away to hospital for a blood infusion—we were eventually left to lock up.

“The basement is empty,” Jackson said as he came back up the stairs. “If the vamps
did
have a van waiting for them there, it's long gone.”

“The driver probably put two and two together the minute he heard the sirens, and got the hell out of Dodge.”

I knelt next to the bed and dragged out the old suitcase. It was padlocked, but a short lance of fire soon fixed that problem.

Jackson flipped the top open and picked up a couple of sheets. “Paperwork, as promised. This batch has a whole lot of technical jargon.”

I glanced at it. “Lab notes.”

“Virus related?”

“Possibly. There's a couple of terms I remember seeing in Baltimore's work.”

He frowned. “But Baltimore and Wilson were working on different projects.”

BOOK: Flameout
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