Hope and Vengeance (Saa Thalarr, book 1): Saa Thalarr, book 1 (17 page)

BOOK: Hope and Vengeance (Saa Thalarr, book 1): Saa Thalarr, book 1
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I barely had time to lie back again before the rejuvenating sleep descended.

* * *

"I have something to present to all of you," Xavier began. "After you see this, I believe you may agree with me. And, as Charles has refused to offer assistance, I have my own technology expert here to assist me." Xavier nodded to the young vampire, who tapped a key on the computer screen sitting before the U-shaped table where the Vampire Council sat.

"What is this we're about to see?" Ilaisaane asked eagerly.

"A turn we should consider," Xavier replied. "You'll see for yourself just how useful she might be to us."

* * *

"He has to die." Saxom sipped blood from a crystal goblet as he and Xavier lounged before a fire in Xavier's great room.

"I warned you," Xavier replied. "He hasn't responded to any of my messages. Likely, he's in thrall to them already. I'd ask Wlodek to declare him rogue, but he's already angry that I overrode his instructions and didn't show the entire video."

"Did you see how hungry several on the Council became when they saw her? I cannot believe Wlodek tabled their decision concerning her capture until the next meeting. She is mine," Saxom snapped. "I do not wish to wait for a Council decision to bring her here. Your child will die for putting his hands on her. If you don't kill him, I'll see to it myself. I have information that places him in New York."

"Then I will send mine after Adam and the others. They will bring her to us. I'll be happy to perform the turn and then hand her to you."

Saxom chuckled before nodding to Xavier. "If it's necessary," he replied.

* * *

"Sweetheart?"

Kiarra brushed past me, her eyes downcast. I stood in Merrill's massive kitchen shortly after sundown, where the others were finishing a meal cooked by Franklin.

"Let her go," Dragon placed a hand on my shoulder when I turned to follow her down the hall.

"What happened?" I demanded.

"The real Anna Madden's funeral happened today," Lion said, rising from his seat at the island. "Kee saw Rita and her two kids there. Rita took it really hard."

"So she's upset over that," I sighed. I was thankful it wasn't anything I'd done.

"Things aren't going so well for Rita. Manuelo is gone, and her job was just eliminated," Dragon pointed out. "She has children to feed."

"There's an article on the news, too, about the company that owns Hartshorne Oil in Corpus Christi." Joey set his laptop on the island. "The company plans to sell that one, so it'll remain closed for a while. They're distancing themselves from the Roy Cheek scandal. See?" Joey turned the laptop so I could read the article.

"Their drilling platforms are still operating, though," I nodded as I read through the article quickly.

"Those are tied to their other refineries in Houston and New Orleans," Joey said. "I guess the whole operation was turned over to them. Roy caused a bunch of problems for the company—their stock took a nosedive."

"It says here that they're still searching for Bill Gordon's body. No mention of the other two."

"The other two aren't relevant to the scandal," Lion observed. "They're just collateral damage."

"What are they saying about the events in Vegas?" I asked.

"They're blaming it on gangs, now," Dragon huffed. "Tourism has dipped dramatically."

"Gangs?" I shook my head. "People are torn apart and half-eaten, and they're saying gangs are responsible?"

"They're looking for a plausible excuse, when the truth is outside their experience," Merrill said.

"It's certainly that," I agreed.

"I think they're coming," Griffin stood and announced. Jerking my head up, I stared at him. His eyes had gone strange, and his voice was different.

"Battle stations," Lion growled low. "Come on, vampire. I believe some of these may be after you."

Chapter 9
 

 

"I have safeguards in place," Merrill said, tapping a key on his cell phone. We stood in the entry, leading into his spacious suite. The elevator lobby in the six-story building was right outside the heavy, double doors we faced. Merrill's suite took up the entire floor, and I was surprised the elevators didn't open directly into his suite.

"Put as many walls between you and the enemy as possible," Kiarra said. She'd stepped to my side while I considered what we might face. I watched as hidden steel doors emerged from camouflaged alcoves to cover the thick, carved wood already there.

A video screen lowered from the ceiling, revealing images of the lobby and elevator outside the doors. "Like it?" Joey breathed. He'd taken a position on my other side. "I designed it," he explained.

"You did good," Kiarra offered him a tight smile.

"What's coming?" I asked. Could spawn get past steel? Dragon's blades were strapped on, but he didn't appear overly concerned.

"Vampires," Griffin said.

Our eyes were glued to the monitor as we watched eight vampires emerge from the elevator. "Ready?" Merrill asked Griffin.

"Now," Griffin muttered.

Merrill tapped another button on his cell phone. What happened next I might not have imagined, but it made sense. For now, I was happy the technology existed.

The elevator lobby became an inferno.

Flames shot from numerous gas jets hidden between carefully placed marble tiles lining the small lobby. I wanted to cringe at the screams—vampires burn easily, but I'd never seen it happen like this. It took perhaps a minute. Maybe less.

It felt so much longer than that.

The jets shut off, the smoke cleared on the monitor and I gazed upon the blackened ash littering the floor outside the elevator. Blinking to clear my vision, I marveled that there wasn't more damage to the walls outside.

"Designed for that purpose," Lion sighed.

"What now?" I thought to ask. I stood, immobile, still too stunned to move.

"More are coming, in case these were unsuccessful," Dragon growled. "We're going to them, first."

* * *

New York City was a place I'd been many times. Had killed many rogues, there. Had even killed a few in New Jersey. I was hunting vampires again, only for a different reason. I'd become a target.

I still couldn't determine the reason for that, which meant Lion's words tumbled through my brain like coins in a dryer, pinging regularly and irritating me in ways I couldn't eliminate or ignore.

"Adam, we'll explain later," Kiarra sighed as we squeezed into the back seat of Merrill's Escalade with Lion. She sat between us; I placed a proprietary arm about her as Merrill started the engine and drove out of the underground parking garage swiftly.

Dragon sat in the passenger seat; Griffin had elected to stay with Franklin and Joey in Merrill's suite. The tires squealed as Merrill pulled onto the street—we were in a hurry, it seemed. I had no idea where we were going.

I noticed that DeKalb Avenue was in need of repairs as we drove down it, past Fort Greene Park. The sidewalks were cluttered with advertisements, street signs and benches for bus passengers. Our destination was the basement of a gray building on a street corner. Absently, I watched the traffic light turn from red to green as Merrill turned the steering wheel to go left and park (illegally) across the street.

"We won't be long," Dragon hissed as he and Merrill leapt from the vehicle. Kiarra grabbed my hand and pulled me out almost as quickly.

Graffiti covered the walls of the building and a light rain fell as I found myself running beside Kiarra. All of us followed Merrill and Dragon, whose rapid footfalls were nearly silent as they slipped down a flight of steps.

The metal door was no match for Merrill's strength; he punched right through it to get into the lower level. I barely had time to notice the spray-painted designs of a street artist on a wall beside the door before I was inside a concrete bunker.

Immediately, I realized the purpose of our haste; these vampires—ten of them—were preparing to leave. They'd gotten warning somehow, and were about to scatter. Merrill relieved the first one of his head before he had time to shout a warning.

Dragon's blades flew as he fought another vampire. A vampire's claws will generally slice through thin steel. Dragon's swords clanged against the claws, but remained intact and sound as Dragon feinted with one blade and swept the vampire's head from his shoulders with the other.

"Adam," Kiarra shouted, as two vampires charged me. My claws were out immediately, and I fought both while she fought a third who joined the fray. Lion had turned, his beast's claws more than a match for the vampire who thought to attack him.

Everything was going well. These rogues fought against powerful, seasoned warriors. I felt proud to be fighting with them.

You know what they say about pride.

"Lion," Kiarra screamed. I jerked at the sound, only half-decapitating the vampire I fought.

There are only three misters. All of them work for the Council
.

That misconception almost cost us two lives.

* * *

"She was not to be touched," Saxom shouted, before raking claws across Xavier's desk, leaving deep, pale grooves in the dark, ancient wood. "Take her. Kill Adam. Leave the others dead or alive. That was my command to you."

Xavier cowered before Saxom, which was unusual for him. He was always in control. Always.

Saxom was older. Much, much older. Xavier held no notion just how old Saxom was. "Those were my instructions to the others," Xavier's voice shook. It embarrassed him. He was vampire. He struggled to calm his emotions and his demeanor.

"You failed," Saxom hissed. "I cannot see her condition. If she dies," he raked his claws across Xavier's desk a second time.

"I will not fail again," Xavier growled.

* * *

A gut wound. A death sentence. She was the only one—in my knowledge—who might save both of them, and she was one of the victims.

The mister had reformed behind Lion, just as Kiarra screamed. He'd turned to face the new threat, but not swiftly enough. She'd leapt to Lion's side, taking the second, heavier blow after Lion took the first across his chest.

I'd seen intestines before; these were spilled and steaming across cold concrete in the filthy underground portion of a New York building. Keening came from two throats—Merrill's and mine. I barely noticed as Dragon spoke one word.

Pheligar.

* * *

"Adam?" Joey held out a unit of blood. I blinked at him in confusion.

"Where are we?" My voice was dry. Cracked.

"Uh, Dragon says we're off-world. That's all he'd tell me." Joey lifted my hand and placed the unit of blood there. "Drink. You need it."

"How?" I said, unconsciously clipping the top off the bag so I could drink.

"He said they've been put back together and healed. They're sleeping. He's grim, Adam. Like this wasn't supposed to happen. I overheard Griffin say '
not in the cards
.' That's what he said just before Pheligar came to get me."

"I can't get the images out of my head." I lifted the bag and emptied it in four swallows. I couldn't. She'd been bloody. Broken. I wanted to vomit. I forced myself not to do so.

"This is so horrible," Joey sat beside me. He sought comfort. I had little to give. I put an arm around him anyway. "I thought Merrill was going to lose it. He never does that."

"Joey, hush," I said softly. "It'll be daylight, soon."

I blinked when the broad-shouldered, sandy-haired man appeared before me. "There's a room upstairs where you'll be safe," he offered. "Tiger and I moved beds in there. It's comfortable enough. Come with me, I'll show you."

Numbly I followed him, the wheels turning slowly in my mind. Yes, I'd seen him before. Once. That was of little consequence, now.

The room had been hollowed from solid rock. Two inner walls were still rock, with no windows. It was a safe haven for vampires. Two beds waited, made up and ready. I sent Joey to the farthest one, leaving the one closest to the door for me. They'd have to kill me before they got to him.

That thought forced me to stop short. I hadn't protected her. They should have had to go through me to get to her. Instead, she'd risked her life to save Lion's.

"Nobody here will harm you. You're safe," the sandy-haired man said softly. "Go to bed. You need the rest."

Without argument, I settled on the bed as the door closed behind him. I'd never hated the rejuvenation sleep so much in my life when the sun rose and my eyes shut for the day.

* * *

"She is still sleeping. You will not disturb her."

"Karzac," Dragon jerked his head toward the man I didn't recognize. I'd found my way back to the room where I'd been left by Pheligar the night before—on his way to saving Kiarra and Lion.

"I am Dragon's healer," Karzac grumbled. He and Dragon had a cup of tea in front of them at the massive kitchen island where they sat.

"Refizani," Dragon added before sipping his tea.

"What's Refizani?" Joey asked, taking a barstool beside me. He'd followed the sound of voices, finding us in the huge kitchen. Glass walls lined the front, overlooking an ocean far below. Water washed the shore and moonlight—from two moons—glittered on the dark surface.

"She likes the water," Karzac sighed. "This was too close for my liking. Refizani, young one," Karzac turned to Joey, "is what I am. I am from Refizan, and a physician before I became Dragon's healer."

"Who was the man who came last night?" Joey asked.

"Lynx."

"Does he have a healer?"

"He does. Her name is Raheela. She is an elf."

"There are elves? For real?"

"You should see the elf king. He can curse better than anyone I've ever met. I believe he may have cursed at Lynx for taking her as his healer." Dragon set his cup on the island with a shake of his head.

"He did. Accused me of being a filthy, pig-fucking rapist," Lynx appeared, a wide grin on his face. "That's the condensed version. I hear Kee's doing better."

"Better, certainly. Needs rest. Exhausted already, before that filth cut her open," Karzac declared.

"What about Lion?" Joey asked.

"Never in as much danger as Kiarra. She drew attention away from him when she went to his aid. His chest wound is healed and he is resting with his mate, who is also his healer. Marlianna will see to him properly."

"When can I see her?" I asked. I wanted to demand to see her, but preferred not to fight everyone present for that privilege. Especially since I was no longer on Earth and had no idea how to get back there.

"You may see her, now. You may not wake her," Karzac grumped.

Kiarra's bedroom wasn't far from the one Joey and I shared, as it turned out. It was much larger, however. Karzac frowned as I sat on the bed, but she didn't wake. I wanted to touch her, but didn't—she slept peacefully on pale-blue sheets, her body covered by a handmade quilt sewn in a scallop shell pattern.

She wakes at times from the healing sleep, which should not be
, Karzac's voice in my mind startled me.
If you touch her, she will certainly wake
.

Healing sleep?
I returned, shifting my gaze in his direction and hoping he'd receive my mindspeech.

Those explanations must wait. Come, we will leave her alone
.

* * *

"I know you feel lost," Dragon took a seat next to me at the kitchen island. "This is Bearcat." He introduced a shorter, compact and quite muscular man to Joey and me. "He has offered to give you as much information as he can and answer questions."

I stared at Joey as he stared at Bearcat. I always knew when Joey fell in lust with anyone. This was certainly lust—at the very least. Bearcat was perhaps five-eight, had dark, curly brown hair, an easy smile and blue eyes. I figure Joey was already calculating how to get Bearcat's shirt off—the man was certainly muscular for his height.

"I'm a healer—Tiger's healer, actually," Bearcat explained as Dragon disappeared. I was beginning to wonder just how he and the others did that—appearing and disappearing at will. I asked that question first.

"It's called folding space. We can't do it when the Ra'Ak are present—the power expended alerts them to our presence." Bearcat continued to smile—at Joey. "It requires a great deal of power."

"You have it, too?" Joey asked. I expected him to start drooling on Bearcat momentarily.

"Yes. The Saa Thalarr are more powerful, and can bend time as well as fold space. Healers can't bend time. If they want to, they have to ask permission from the Liaison."

"Liaison?"

"Pheligar. I hear you've met him."

"You could say that," I breathed uncomfortably. "He offered to separate my particles, whatever that means."

"He can be somewhat crusty and abrupt," Bearcat explained. "We don't know how old he is, either," he whispered. "We're afraid to ask."

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