Heart of the Warrior (24 page)

Ari didn’t want to go to work tonight, and he didn’t want to
go tomorrow, or the next night, or the one after that. He wanted to write and
play music, maybe even teach it. He didn’t want to patrol the streets, anymore,
or arrest drecks and break up fights or stop drug deals.

"Ari?" Sev squeezed his hand. "You okay,
babe?"

"I am when I'm with you." He turned and looked
into those pale blue eyes of Sev’s. "Come on. Let’s go. The sooner we get
there, the sooner we can leave and come home."

"Come home?" Sev’s eyes twinkled and the corners
of his mouth perked up.

"Yeah, come home. I like it here, Sev. This feels like
home to me." For the first time in his life, he felt like he was right
where he was supposed to be. Now if he could just face his father, he could
make it official and actually move in.

The following night, Lakota awoke determined to make amends
with Severin. He had already made the decision to move to Chicago to be near
his daughter, and it was time he returned to work – real work. During his
forty-two-year marriage to Mary, he had worked as a night security guard at
various places, a job he quit when she died six years ago. Since then he hadn’t
worked at all, and it was time to get back to what he did best: Enforcing.

He sat down in front of his laptop and typed in the
necessary information to get him to the local AKM site, which fronted as a security
detail. But that was just for show for the humans. Vampires knew the real
purpose of AKM.

The website was set up like any other, with menu options for
About Us, Our Clients, Contact Us, and the one Lakota was looking for, Career
Opportunities. He clicked the link and a screen opened with available
positions. Of course, everything was coded to appear human-friendly, and like
most AKM facilities, they probably did have humans who worked in a separate
part of the facility from the vampires. Administrators, daytime security
guards, drivers, and the like.

He browsed the open positions. There wasn’t much, but there
was a listing for security guards. That could mean any number of positions, but
most likely it meant enforcers, especially because the job reference number
contained the string of characters Lakota knew meant this was a vampire
opportunity.

He called the phone number referenced for the position and
sat back, waiting for an answer, but got voicemail. Of course. They had to weed
out the riff-raff somehow.

Thank you for calling AKM Security. At the tone, please
leave your name, contact information, and the reference number for the job you
are inquiring about and someone will contact you as soon as possible.
No
doubt humans thought this was an odd method for gaining information from
candidates, but to vampires, especially those who had worked at AKM before,
this was perfectly normal.

Beep.

"Lakota Bannon, job reference number V922460166."
The V had not been part of the original code, but this was the way a vampire
told them he was, in fact, a vampire. He rattled off his phone number then
paused before adding, "I have previous experience."

He hung up. All he could do now was wait for them to call
him back.

After ordering room service, he was about to hop in the
shower when his phone rang. He glanced at the I.D.
AKM Security.
Shit,
that was fast. Not even five minutes had passed.

"Hello?"

"Yes, Mr. Bannon?" The voice on the other end was
deep and gruff, a true soldier.

"Yes."

"My name is Stryker. Your message was just forwarded to
me. You have previous experience as an enforcer?"

"Yes, sir. I do."

"When and where?"

"Europe and England in the late 1700s and 1800s, just
all over. I was part of the King’s Guard for about twenty years. Came to the
States in 1887 when he relocated, then branched out on my own in 1909 for a few
years before helping found the New York division of AKM in 1913. I worked there
until 1964."

"Impressive. Why did you quit in 1964?"

"I got married, sir."

"Oh? Was she human?"

"Yes, sir. How did you know?"

"I’ve seen this before. An enforcer leaves when he gets
involved with a human, then returns after she dies."

Lakota winced at Stryker’s bluntness, but he understood it.
He had been like Stryker once. Worse, actually. He caressed the cross around
his neck, remembering Mary. He would never return to the bastard he had been
thanks to her, but he had a feeling some of his old ways would return once he
got back to work. Not the bad old ways, but the ones that made him a strong
enforcer and gave him the edge a soldier needed to make it in the streets.

"Yes, sir, my wife was human."

"Any kids?"

Vampire interviews didn’t work like human ones. Questions
about family weren’t allowed in human interviews, but they weren’t as
off-limits in those for vampires.

"Yes, sir. One daughter and two sons." He didn’t
include Sev in this total.

There was a pause. "Okay, how about you come by
tonight? Can you be here in two hours?"

"Yes, sir."

"Call me Stryker."

"Okay, Stryker. And you can call me Lakota or just Kota"

"Do you know how to get here, Kota?"

"I’ve got the address."

"Okay, then I’ll see you in two."

"Thank you, Stryker. I’ll be there." Lakota hung
up and hit the shower. He had hoped to see Gina again tonight, but that would
have to wait until later.

After showering and getting cleaned up, his dinner arrived
and he quickly ate before heading down to his Suburban in the hotel parking
garage. An hour-and-a-half after Stryker’s phone call, Lakota was on his way.

AKM’s offices were centrally-located in the heart of the
Loop, and he entered the main lobby to be greeted by a dark-haired, dark-eyed
female. "Hello, can I help you?" Her eyes razed him up and down
appraisingly.

"I have an appointment with Stryker," he said.

"You must be Lakota?"

"Yes."

She picked up her phone and punched a number. "Yes,
Lakota’s here to see you." She paused briefly then hung up. "He’ll be
right up."

Lakota glanced around the windowless lobby at the awards and
pictures.

"Kota. Hi, I’m Stryker."

Lakota spun around and clutched the large, outstretched hand
coming at him. "That was fast." Not even a minute had passed since
the receptionist had called back to him.

"I don’t believe in wasting time, Kota."

Stryker was almost as tall as he was, with shoulders just as
wide. A black buzz-cut topped his head and he looked and acted more like a
Marine than a vampire in his fatigues and skin-tight navy blue T-shirt that
showed off what looked like a magnificent pair of pecs.

"Follow me." Stryker spun on his heel and nodded
curtly to the receptionist, who grinned slyly and glanced away.

It was clear she had the hots for Stryker, but while she had
been easy enough to read, it was hard to tell whether the male returned the
attraction.

"Thank you," Lakota said to the female as he
rapped his knuckles on the counter.

"Certainly. Good luck." She smiled warmly then
dropped her gaze back to a stack of mail she was opening.

"This is the main hall," Stryker said, leading him
through a set of double doors. "Dispatch is over there, break room,
lockers, prep rooms, conference room, data center, war room." He pointed
toward each as his giant strides ate up the hallway. "Over there's the
training center – state of the art, by the way." Stryker quickly flexed an
arm without looking back at him, and his biceps popped up like a softball for a
split second before he lowered his arm. "Down that hall is the medical
wing, and back that way are the elevators that lead to the dorms. You’ll get a
room of your own once you come on board. My team takes up the sixth floor. But
don't get comfortable. The new facility is almost finished. We'll be moving in
a month or two."

"Wait? I’m in just like that? No interview?"
Lakota was shocked it was that simple.

"With your credentials? Shit, you’ll be running your
own team before you know it." Stryker shoved open a door and held it for
Lakota to enter. "This is my office."

Lakota stepped in and looked around. The space was small but
adequate for a guy as big as Stryker, but the sparse walls and desk gave Lakota
the impression that Stryker liked to keep things clean and simple. No clutter
or personal distractions. He probably lived in a small, one-story house that
contained nothing more than a bed, a chair, and a home gym.

"So," Stryker sat down and steepled his fingers in
front of him as he plopped his elbows on the desk and leaned forward.
"When can you start?"

"As soon as possible."

"Great. How does Monday sound?" Stryker sat back
and slid the only file on the desk in front of him and opened it, and then
grabbed the simple, black ballpoint from the pocket of his shirt. The metal
clasp snapped and Stryker’s thumb click-clicked, and then he made a quick
notation on the paperwork.

"Monday sounds good."

"We’ve got a Bannon on Tristan’s team. Is that going to
be a problem? I assume there’s a reason you didn’t volunteer your relationship
to Severin?"

This guy was good. "No, sir, that won’t be a problem.
Not from my end."

"Good. I don’t know what you two are to each other, and
I don’t give a shit, but it’s clear you’re related. Shit, you could almost pass
for twins. But as long as there’s no trouble, I don’t care. Keep your secrets
to yourself and your personal life out of your work, and we’ll get along
fine."

"Yes, sir."

"I told you on the phone to call me Stryker, goddamn
it. I hate being called sir."

Lakota smiled. He could already tell he would like working
with Stryker. He had the kind of edge and no-shit attitude that was just what
he needed to get back in the game.

"What are you smiling at?" Stryker said.

"Nothing,
sir.
" He emphasized sir.
"Just that I think I’m going to like working with you."

Stryker started to grin, but bit it back. "Yeah, well,
I have a feeling I’m going to like working with you, too, shithead. But that
won’t stop me from busting your fangs if you call me sir again."

Lakota barked out a laugh. He already felt like he had known
Stryker for years, what with all the ball-busting going on between them.
"Okay, okay. Got it, Stryker."

"That’s more like it." Stryker yanked open the top
drawer of his desk.

Lakota imagined the inside was just as clean and orderly as
the rest of his office.

"Here’s your access card and key fob." Stryker
wrote down the number on the back of each. "They’ll be activated by Sunday
night if you feel like coming in and meeting the team, but don’t worry. We can
do that Monday, too." He pulled out a set of keys. "These are keys to
our vehicles. The prep lockers use combinations, but you can bring your own
lock for the ones in the training center locker rooms. But I can tell you right
now, no one steals shit around here because they know they’ll answer to me if
they do."

Lakota imagined that would be enough to scare anyone away
from even stealing a Post-it Note. Stryker didn't seem like one to cross.
"Gotcha."

Stryker stood abruptly and Lakota got the feeling the guy
was about to salute, but he simply held his hand out over his desk. Lakota
stood then clasped and shook it.

"Welcome to the team, Kota."

"Thank you, Stryker. You have no idea how excited I am
about this." Finally, he would get back to work. He was itching to get his
hands dirty again.

His new boss released his hand and strode to the door.
"I’ll remind you that you said that when you’re ass-deep in cobalt
dealers."

"Cobalt? Really?"

Stryker opened the door and led him out. "Yeah, we’ve
got a real cobalt problem growing out of control here. It’s why all the teams
are being asked to add more manpower. It's also why we're outgrowing this
place." Stryker swept his gaze around as if encompassing the entire
building.

"Outgrowing it, huh?"

"Yep. That's why we're getting the new facility. It's
bigger. State of the art, too. High-tech. Efficient. Underground. At least our
part of it is. It'll sure be nice to dump this 70s motif and get into a space
that will help us do our jobs better."

Yeah, it was clear that the building they were in had seen a
few build-outs to make room for additional staff. It looked old, with generic
tile floors, partitioned ceilings, and fluorescent lighting.

A few feet ahead, two males stepped out of one of the
offices they had passed earlier.

Stryker barked out a greeting. "Tristan, hey, meet
Lakota. He just came on." Stryker pulled up and clapped another massive
male on the shoulder.

That must be Tristan.

"Lakota?" The other man with Tristan glanced at
him and lifted his eyebrows.

"Gregos?" Lakota smiled and took the man’s hand.
"What a small world. Do you work here, too?"

He and Gregos had known each other as members of the king’s
personal guard. Shit, that had been a couple centuries ago.

Stryker and Tristan looked back and forth between them.

"No, I’m retired. My son, Arion, is on Tristan’s
team," Gregos said.

"Really?" Lakota glanced toward Tristan and shook
his hand. "I’m Lakota Bannon."

Tristan’s eyes narrowed and he glanced at Stryker curiously,
but Stryker held up his hands. "I know. He looks like your boy Sev, but
I’m not prying and he assured me there’s no problems."

Tristan didn’t look convinced and Lakota got the feeling he
wasn’t as open as Stryker.

"So," Gregos said, "you’re still
enforcing?"

"I took some time off, but I’m ready to get back to it.
What about you?"

"I still work for the king. I’m a liaison now. No one
talks to the king directly, anymore. Everything goes through the liaisons and
consultants."