Books by Maggie Shayne (141 page)

She shivered uncontrollably as Ramsey pulled her through the gates, along the path, right through the front door. He knew what she must be thinking. That he’d lost his mind, or that he’d decided to turn her over to DPI after all. It amazed him that she didn’t argue with him, just came along, completely trusting a man who’d given her nothing but reasons not to.

Sensing her turmoil, he gave her hand a reassuring squeeze as he closed the door behind them. “It’s gonna be all right, Cuyler. This is the safest place we could be right now. The last place they’d think to look for us. And you can bet Fuller and his men won’t be back here as long as they think they’re on our trail.”

She bit her lip, her gaze scanning the living room. The place looked like the home of a wealthy, tasteless individual. Not a branch office for a government agency. But then, that was the whole idea. DPI’s anonymity was vital to its success.

Ramsey armed the security device, then began fiddling with the buttons, programming a new entry code, one Fuller wouldn’t know. Cuyler walked slowly away from him, and he heard her exhausted sigh. Fortunately, though, her wounds had healed with the daytime rest. Her wrists were no longer cut and bruised. The purple mark on her face had vanished, and her cut lip had healed.

But some wounds were tougher to heal than others. And he still felt her pain, the one he’d caused himself. He a nave to find a way to remedy that soon, or he’d lose her. He wasn’t sure they could get out of this alive, but if they did, and if they went their separate ways the way Cuyler seemed to have decided they must he was going to hurt for a very long time.

He paused in punching buttons, to slant her a glance. “Cuyler, you’re wrung out, Why don’t you go upstairs, take a nice hot bath, relax for a while?”

She blinked slowly, and he knew she was tempted by the suggestion. “No, Ramsey. Two sets of eyes are better than one. Suppose I go up there and a swarm of agents kick the door in?”

“I don’t think that’s likely to happen anytime soon.”

He finished punching in the new entry code. No one would open this door, or the front gate, without him knowing about it. Then he turned to her again, saw the uncertainty in her eyes. “Go on, Cuyler. Ask me.”

“Ask you what?” Her chin lifted a little, and he saw her trying to mask her doubts.

“Why I brought you here,” he said softly. He ran one hand over the side of her face, cupped her cheek. God, her skin was soft. “Not to give you up, Cuyler. If they want you, they’ll have to go through me.”

She bit her lower lip, nodding, but he knew she wasn’t as sure of that as he was.

“You don’t believe it?”

“I…” She shook her head, paced away from him. “How can I believe you’d lay your life on the line to protect someone you still see as some kind of inferior species?”

“That isn’t—”

“I know. That isn’t what you meant to say.” She shook her head, turning to face him again, her gaze steady, strong. “But it’s how you feel.”

He shook his head slowly. “You’re wrong, Cuyler. There’s nothing inferior about you.”

“Just the rest of my kind, right, Ramsey? So what does that make me? An exception? A freak?”

He lifted his hands, palms up, struggling to find words that would convince her how wrong she was, but she gave him a single glance that told him it would do no good. She wouldn’t listen. He let his hands fall to his sides, sighing in defeat.

“So, why did you bring me here?”

Ramsey closed his eyes, tried to find some patience. It would take time to get her to trust him again. She’d believed so strongly in him before, and his fall from grace must have been a damaging one. But not fatal. “Come here. I’ll show you.”

He took her hand in his and laced his fingers with hers. Such a small hand, silky soft, steady now, despite her fears. He thought about the way that hand had felt tangled in his hair, those fingertips sinking into his shoulders. He glanced down at her, caught her staring up at him, but she looked away fast. He cleared his throat and pulled her with him to the door at the far end of the room. When he stepped through, he waved an arm at the equipment that covered every inch of the counters that lined the room. Computers, faxes, phones, radios, an entire bank of video screens, each showing a steady view of a different room within this house.

He heard the air escape her in a rush, heard her murmured exclamation. Ignoring it, he moved forward, snapping on the police band receiver, and then the more sophisticated radio. The one DPI used to keep in touch. He listened for a minute, heard nothing but static. Then he sank into a chair and flicked on a computer.

“What are you doing?”

He glanced sideways at her, but his attention shot right back to the screen. “I’ll know everything they do, every move they make from here on in, Cuyler. We’ll figure a safe way out of here before morning. Meanwhile, this system is a direct link to the main one in White Plains. I’d like to see what they have on me, find out why Fuller’s been doubting my loyalty.”

He heard her move, then turned to see her leaning against a wall, chewing her lower lip. “There’s not much you can do here, really. I’ll be on top of things. Take that bath.”

Cuyler bathed. She didn’t do as Ramsey had suggested, though, and lounge around in steaming water for hours. She made it quick and efficient. Then she scoured the house for extra clothes, finding none. She made do with the jeans and sweater she’d been wearing. After she’d towel dried her hair, she wandered back down to the first floor, located the kitchen, and brewed a pot of coffee.

With a cup in her hand, she went back to the room, tapped once, and walked in. Ramsey’s face did a lousy job of hiding his emotions, and the look it wore made her heart trip over itself. He faced her when he heard her come in, tried to mask his bewildered expression, but still failed miserably.

She crossed to where he sat, pressed the mug into his hand. “How bad is it?”

He licked his lips, lowering his eyes. “Pretty bad.”

“Tell me.”

He glanced at the screen in front of him. It showed a spider web of lines that looked like a map, with little red lights glowing at intervals. He pointed to one of them. “These are the roadblocks. There’s not one route out of here they haven’t plugged tight. They’re checking every vehicle that passes.”

“So we can’t get out by car. We can go on foot.”

“They have choppers up, scanning the ground for us. And the dogs are working the woods. Cuyler, I don’t think—”

The front door slammed and both of them went stiff, whirling toward the sound.

“You don’t think at all, Bachman. That’s part of the problem.”

The deep voice was one Ramsey had heard before. He recognized it, and rose slowly.

The dark form filled the doorway, nodding once to Ramsey. “Hello again, Agent Bachman.”

Ramsey tried to swallow, but found his throat blocked by a brick of hatred. This man was a killer, a killer Ramsey had been sent to bring in. But he’d failed. “Damien.”

“Aren’t you glad to see me, Bachman? Thought you’d be overjoyed, after chasing me all those months, trying to capture me for your bosses at DPI.”

Ramsey took a single step forward. “You killed two women, you bastard. And you—”

Damien glared at him, his black eyes glittering with unconcealed dislike. “I killed one man. A vampire. The one responsible for the two murders you were sent to investigate.”

“Liar!” Ramsey lunged toward him, only to have Cuyler leap in front of him, her palms flat to his chest.

“It’s true, Ramsey! There were witnesses. I’ve read the whole account, and he’s telling you the truth.”

Ramsey glanced down at her, then at the man he’d spent months trying to capture, the man who’d made a beautiful young woman into a creature like himself.

Damien blinked and held his gaze. Some of the fury left the vampire’s eyes. “She was dying,” he said simply. “I loved her, Bachman. I couldn’t just stand by and let her go.”

Ramsey narrowed his eyes and shook his head.

“Check your precious DPI files, if you don’t believe me.” Damien lowered his head and paced in a small circle. “They know now it wasn’t me who murdered those two. They know it was Anthar, the vampire I killed. Yet the hunt for me continues.” He stood still, shot Ramsey a glare. “Go on, check. You have the information at your fingertips. Or are you afraid of what you’ll find?”

Ramsey blinked twice, and stared at him, stunned speechless. “Anthar?” he finally managed. He glanced toward Cuyler, and she nodded confirmation. Sighing hard, Ramsey sank back into his chair. He closed his eyes. “All right. I believe you.”

Cuyler sighed in relief, but Damien only cocked his brows in surprise. “You don’t need to see the proof?”

“No.” Ramsey shook his head slowly. “No. I’ve found quite a few surprises in my own DPI files. Enough to show me what they’re really about.” He shook his head, meeting Cuyler’s gaze. “You were right all along. I just wish I’d believed you sooner.”

Cuyler blinked moisture away from her eyes, and faced Damien. If she looked a bit awed, Ramsey figured it was natural. She was in the same room with the man reputed to be the oldest of all of them, the first. “Why are you here?” she asked him.

“To get you out.”

“But how did you know—”

“No time for that, child. You must come with me now.” He took her hand and tugged her toward the doorway.

She pulled free. “I’m not leaving him.”

Damien’s eyes took on a feral gleam. “He’s not worth your devotion, Cuyler. He’s one of them, those same bastards who make our very existence a game of hide-and-seek. The ones who see to it we never know peace. If they’ve turned on him now, then all the better. Poetic justice, if you ask me.”

“I didn’t ask you!”

His glare grew sharper still.

“They had me, Damien. He got me out. He risked his life to do it.”

“Too little, too late. What good did it do? He’s one of them, Cuyler! Leave him here and be rid of him for good.”

“Damn you with your us-and-them mentality! Don’t you see that’s exactly the bigotry that got us to this point in the first place! Damien, your way of thinking is just as twisted as DPI’s. Can’t you see that?”

Ramsey touched her shoulder, his hands squeezing gently, but his gaze remained on Damien. “Can you get her out?”

“There’s no doubt.”

“No!” She twisted her head to stare into Ramsey’s eyes just before he slammed them shut.

“Go with him, Cuyler.”

“I won’t! Dammit, I won’t!”

“There’s no time to argue,” Damien said softly, though his eyes had lost some of their anger, and a frown that might have been one of confusion had taken up residence between his brows. “Have you noticed the radio silence, Ramsey? The sudden stop in all radio contact?”

Ramsey opened his eyes and turned slowly to stare at the computer screen that glowed like an all-seeing oracle.

“They knew the second you turned it on and began accessing information,” Damien said softly. “They’re probably already on their—”

A bullhorn-enhanced voice apparently shattered the slight grip Cuyler had on her composure. She screamed at the first words, but Ramsey still heard them.

“Bachman, we have the house surrounded. There’s no way out. Give yourselves up.”

Ramsey lowered his head. “Can you still get her out, Damien?”

“Ramsey—”

“If we can get to the roof,” Damien replied, cutting her off.

She threw her arms around Ramsey’s neck. “No! I won’t do it. I love you—”

The bullhorn-enhanced voice came again. “We’ll give you ten minutes, Bachman. Then we come in shooting.”

The sharpshooter in the tallest pine tree whistled, and when he had Fuller’s attention, he whispered loudly, “There’s a third person in there, Fuller. A man, tall, very dark complexion.”

“How the hell—” Fuller nodded, and hurried toward the DPI van, glancing as he did at the miniature dish on the top. “Can you get this thing up and operational? I need to hear what’s being said inside.”

The technician only held up one hand for patience, adjusting his headset and fiddling with dials. Finally he nodded and smiled. He handed the headset to Fuller, who held it up to one ear. Then his eyes widened, and he smiled.

“It’s him!” He shook his head slowly. “We’ve hit the damn jackpot this time, fellas. Get me a line to Bachman. It’s time to make a deal.”

Damien studied Ramsey as if seeing him for the first time. “Hard to believe we have one common goal, after all this. We both want to see Cuyler get out of this alive.”

Ramsey lowered his eyes. “We have more in common than you know, Damien.”

The other man frowned, parted his lips to ask something, but Ramsey cut him off. “Look, it’s no secret that I don’t like you.”

“You’re not exactly my favorite person, either, Ramsey.”

“Unpleasant as you are, though, you’re not a killer.”

“Thanks so much for informing me.”

Ramsey blew air through his teeth. “You want to shut the hell up and let me apologize!”

“Is that what you were doing?”

Damien’s stare was as hateful as ever, and Ramsey knew the one he sent back was as bad, or worse. Ramsey wanted to deck the guy, but he restrained himself. There was another part of him that wanted to shake Damien’s hand, call him friend.

“The one you killed, Anthar…” Ramsey swallowed the lump in his throat and shook his head.

“What about him?”

Clearing his throat, stiffening his spine, Ramsey answered. “He was the one who murdered my mother.” He heard Cuyler catch her breath. “DPI knew all along. It’s in my files, along with a lot of other…” He bit his lip, shook his head. “Doesn’t matter now, I guess. I just thought you ought to know.”

“Know?”

“That you’re not quite the bastard I had you pegged as being, all right? Now, if you don’t mind, can we quit talking and get Cuyler out of here?”

Damien tilted his head to one side. “You aren’t a bit afraid of me, are you?”

“Oh, hell yes, Damien. Scared witless. Don’t you see my knees knocking?”

Damien chewed his inner cheek, eyes narrow. “You’re an unusual mortal.”

“You’re both idiots!” Cuyler shouted the words as she crossed into the living room and peered through a curtain. “And insane, to boot, if you think I’m leaving here without you, Ramsey.” There were tears glittering in her eyes. “We go together or not at all.”

He went to her, unable to stop himself. Vaguely he was aware of Damien tactfully slipping out of the room, but his mind was focused on Cuyler. Her heart was breaking. He could feel it. Or was that his own? His hands slipped around her waist as she turned to him and he pulled her close.

“I’m not worth dying for,” he whispered. “Cuyler, you have to go with him.”

She threaded her fingers in his hair. “You love me, don’t you, Ramsey?”

His eyes devoured her face. Her turned-up nose, her huge, dark eyes. That ruffly jet hair.

“Say it, just once, say it.”

He nodded, his mind reeling with the force of what he felt. “I don’t think love is a strong enough word. Hell, Cuyler, you’ve turned me inside out. Before you, I swear there was ice running in my veins instead of blood. A big hunk of granite hatred where my heart ought to be. You changed that.” He lowered his head, captured her sweet mouth one last time, kissed her the way he’d been wanting to all night long. When he pulled away, he licked the taste of her from his lips. “Yes, Cuyler. I love you.”

Tears flowed like rivers on her cheeks. “Then don’t ask me to go on without you.” She sniffed, swallowed, her voice became tight and thin. ‘“Cause I don’t think I can.”

“You’d have to sooner or later anyway.” His thumbs swept the moisture from her cheeks. “You’re immortal. I’m not and there’s no way I can be.” God, how it tore him apart to utter that lie. There was a way. He knew that now, was still jolted by the knowledge. But he couldn’t tell her. She’d never leave if she knew.

She shook her head fast and hard, but he caught her face between his palms, held it still. “It’s the truth. We would have had to face it eventually.”

“I don’t want to hear this!” She whirled away from him.

Damien reentered the room, clearing his throat to announce his presence. Ramsey met his probing gaze. It was knowing, that look.

“There’s a door to the roof through the attic,” Ramsey said, fighting for a level tone. “I want you to go with Damien now. They won’t wait patiently much longer.”

Damien went to Cuyler, took a gentle hold on her arm, and started for the stairs. The telephone jangled and Ramsey went rigid. It rang again, and this time the voice on the bullhorn shouted at him to pick it up.

His hands damp with sweat, he did.

“Bachman?”

His lips thinned. The voice belonged to Wes Fuller, his trusted superior. “What the hell do you want?”

“Wouldn’t be a good idea for your two pals to go up on the roof, Bachman. We have sharpshooters high enough to hit them there.”

He swore his heart turned to ice in his chest. He covered the mouth piece with one hand, waved to get Damien’s attention. Damien halted halfway up the stairs and waited, watching Ramsey’s face intently.

Ramsey cleared his throat. “What makes you think anyone was thinking about going to the roof?”

“Oh, we don’t think. We know. I’ve been listening in on your touching little conversation.”

“Maybe you’d like to meet me one on one, Fuller? Maybe you need a little dental work done, hmm?”

Fuller’s laugh was low and throaty. “No, thanks. Look, I know you’ve been sniffing around in your files… among other things. How much do you know?”

“About what?”

The other man hesitated, then went on. “Your diabetes, for starters.”

“I know I don’t have it. Never did.”

“And your insulin?”

“An experiment. To mask…” Ramsey glanced toward Cuyler on the stairs, and decided not to say any more.

“Go on, Bachman. Tell me, do you know about your blood type?”

“I know,” he said softly, slowly.

“So you know all that crap you just fed the…lady was bull. You could join the ranks and live happily ever after with her. You realize that?”

Ramsey stiffened. “What’s your point, Fuller?”

“I could let you go. Her, too. I could pull back and let you both walk out of here, right now. I have the authority.”

Just like that. Fuller let the words hang in the air for a long moment. But Ramsey wasn’t stupid. There was more. It was either a trick to get them to let their guard down, or Fuller wanted something. He wasn’t certain which.

“What’s the catch?” He tried not to let the sudden surge of hope come through in his voice.

“Finish the assignment you had before this one. That’s all. Not so much to ask, is it, Bachman?”

Ramsey closed his eyes, knowing exactly what Fuller wanted. The job before this one had been the capture of Damien Namtar, the most powerful, the oldest, probably the first of all vampires.

Ramsey had had no qualms about hunting him down a year ago, when he’d believed with everything in him that the man was a heartless predator, a killer. But now he knew better. He’d wronged Damien with his persecution. And he owed the man. More than ever, Ramsey knew what would happen to Damien if he were turned over to DPI. They were the heartless killers, not him. God, it was all so clear now. Why had it taken so long?

“How do you expect me to do that?” he asked, just to stall, trying to think of some way out of this trap.

“The tranquilizer, Bachman. There are filled syringes in the desk, bottom drawer. Just stick him, and leave the rest to us. You and your pet can walk away and never look back.”

Ramsey turned and met Damien’s steady gaze. Not looking away, he replied, “It might take a little while.”

“I can give you an hour, Bachman. Not a minute longer.” The connection was broken.

Ramsey licked his lips and put the phone back in its cradle.

“What?” Cuyler whispered. “What’s going on?”

“Nothing.” His gaze shifted to Damien’s and he got the odd feeling the man knew every word that had been said. “I bought us some time, is all.” He reached for a piece of paper and a pencil, and scribbled quickly. “They can hear every word we say, so be careful.”

When he held it up, Damien and Cuyler came back down the stairs. Cuyler looked at it, blinked in surprise, and showed it to Damien.

Ramsey looked around the house, feeling more trapped and helpless than he ever had before. More, even, than when he’d awakened in Cuyler’s castlelike hideaway. The thought made him close his eyes and wince inwardly. He’d give a limb to be there with her right now. He’d let so much time go to waste, time when he’d been alone with her in that magical place.

They could never go back there now.

Inspiration struck, and Ramsey tilted his head so they’d follow, and headed for the basement. The place was solid, lead-lined and secure. Ramsey didn’t think they’d be heard down here. Still, he whispered what he had to say.

“Damien, we need to exchange clothes.”

Damien lifted one brow, then lowered it, his eyes narrowing in understanding. “Why?”

“There’s no time to go into it,” Ramsey lied. “Look, there are sharpshooters out there. If you head for the roof, they’ll pick you off so fast it’ll make your head spin. I have a plan.”

Damien nodded thoughtfully and lowered himself to the bottom step. “Tell me about it.”

“I told you, there isn’t time.”

Cuyler looked from one to the other. “I don’t like this, Ramsey. Tell me the truth, what did that bastard say to you on the phone?”

Ramsey looked away, chewing his lip. “Nothing you need to be concerned about.”

“No,” Damien agreed. “He simply offered to let you and Cuyler go free, in exchange for my capture. That’s it, isn’t it?”

Ramsey’s head came up and his eyes flashed angrily. The jerk was going to ruin everything.

“And you planned to put on my clothes, pretend to be me, and give Cuyler and me time to escape.”

“Ramsey, you can’t!”

Ramsey clasped her hands in his, squeezing to calm her, while glaring at Damien. “You had to spill it all? You couldn’t just take her and go?”

Damien gave his head an almost imperceptible shake. “An unusual mortal,” he said again, as if to himself.

“I’ve had enough of both of you!” Cuyler tugged her hands from Ramsey’s and stalked through the basement, peering through the narrow windows, whose bottoms were level with the ground outside. One after another, pacing back to the first again as Damien and Ramsey continued their silent battle of wills.

“Here!” Her shout caught both men’s attention. “Okay, see that DPI car right there? It’s the closest one to the house.”

Damien glanced at Ramsey. Ramsey only shook his head.

“I won’t bother trying to explain to you two. You’re too busy with your own tug-of-war to listen. Ramsey, get Fuller on the line again. Tell him you agree to his terms, but he has to pull all the police off the highways. The chopper has to land. Tell him you’ll surrender Damien only to him and those two clowns he has with him. Everyone else has to leave. Especially those sharpshooters. I can see one from here, up in a tree. We won’t stand a chance unless we get rid of them.”

Ramsey frowned, rising, gripping her shoulders. “Honey, I don’t know what—”

“We’ll need a distraction. Then we make a run for that car. We’ll squeeze through this window, and…” Her words came to a stop as she pulled free of Ramsey, clambered onto a wooden box, and pried the window from its opening. Ramsey could only watch in wonder as she wrestled it free, and very quietly climbed down, setting it aside.

“Look,” she whispered, even more softly than before. She pointed to the shrubs growing between the house and the car. There would only be a few yards without cover.

She nudged Ramsey’s shoulder. “Go on, get up there and make that call.”