Operation London (29 page)

I was so scared, but I didn't say to stop
. And I guess he had sex with her real rough and he beat her up pretty bad. They didn't come back all night. I found her in the morning....she was tied to his bed and all bruised."  Lucia was trying to talk between sobs. "And he wouldn't ever talk about it to me!  And he was so good and gentle with me when I was sad after Em was gone. I only went to see her once."  Lucia looked up into Magdalene's eyes, her own full of fear and disgust. "He did something bad to her inside her head. He killed that little girl somehow, and I let him!"  She turned to the wall, sliding down and punching at it with her bare fists.

"No you didn't!" Magdalene insisted
. "You could never have known!  Your brother is sick, he needs professional help!"

"My brother has a sickness that's like a disease
. It's been eating at him for years,"  Lucia said, her voice low and cold. "And it can spread, and it will only get stronger and stronger. Until someone kills him." 

The cold in Lucia's voice left Magdalene without a single doubt; this woman hated Angel, her blood brother
. Hated him and loved him at once. In her mind Magdalene could see it like two snakes, twisting and fighting against one another's coils. Lucia had lived with the double fear and double hate for so many years, it had started to turn her cold. She had begun to imitate the erratic, heartless behavior her brother was known for.

"I can't promise this will all turn out OK," Magdalene said
. "But I can make sure that you get help. I can make sure that you never have to deal with Angel and his twisted mind again."

"What if my mind's twisted so bad it doesn't even matter?" Lucia asked, her voice low and hard
. "What if he killed something in me, just like he did to Em?"

"He didn't do that!" Magdalene cried desperately, afraid to give Lucia any other alternative
. "You're a fighter. You will survive this."  She squeezed the girl's hand. "You can't make it up to Em, but you can save Marie. It doesn't matter what you did to her before, you can make everything right now."

Large light brown eyes locked with shining peridot
. The two women came to a peace, and they prepared to go to battle with an evil that blackened everything it touched. As they moved slowly, Lucia gesturing with one hand for Magdalene to follow, the peppery blonde hoped that she had done the right thing by trusting the girl. She had been through a great deal of trauma and abuse, and Magdalene realized that anything was possible once she was face to face with Angel once again. She could only pray that the anything would work out to her benefit and not harm Maria.

Miguel moved slowly in the pitch dark
. Somewhere in his pocket, a lighter pressed against his leg, urging him to reach in and flick it on. But he wouldn't risk it in the dark tunnel. Part of him feared that he might trip a sensor or meet with a leaky gas main, but another part, a part he didn't like to face, didn't really want to see what was creeping beneath the gleaming white home. The same crawling filth that rotted this home had disintegrated any shred of decency in Angel Espino's heart.

Angel had always been adept at hiding, at disguise
. He himself could dress like a man of great distinction, throw grand parties, collect beautiful things for his spacious home. Yet all that refinement hid a black heart, lying in wait for any and every innocent victim it could come within close proximity of. Miguel shook his head, trying to calm all of the powerful negative thoughts running through his mind. He had to focus on the tiny space, on the promise of his own eventual meeting with Angel. Only then would he be able to seek revenge for all the wrong Angel had done, most especially against Ava.

Dirt clung to his fingers, pressing into the skin as he made his way, knees pressed to the hard ground, through the pathway
. The thought of Ava in pain, buckled under Angel's whims left him fighting to find her and make everything right. He had vowed to protect her always. Miguel Gustan never went back on his word.

He picked up the pace, ignoring the soft scratch of vermin paws at his back, the scuttle of bugs in his hair
. There was light above him, light he could easily see and smell. He needed to be out of this place as soon as possible. Setting Cormac's goggles on his head, he flicked the switch, waiting as they buzzed to life. His pupils dilated painfully, and he choked back a curse as the world went from pitch black to a spinning, exploding white to a green lighted grid. Swinging his head around, he took a long look at the world around him. He was inside Cormac's map, staring straight at the secret cache of rooms Angel had tucked under his palace like a greedy sultan hoarding a secret trove of gems.
He began to work with vigor and excitement, his large hands moving boldly over the eroding edges of the panel, breaking the earth away to reveal more light. The tanned fingers ripped and tore hungrily, somewhere between lover and predator, seducer and enemy. Finally fresh air hit him in the face, cold and sweet. He took a moment to drag long currents into his lungs, enjoying the cold pressure on his lungs.

Agile as a cat, he jumped up out of his hole, moving the goggles away from his sharp
brown eyes to take in the terracotta walls and ancient tapestries. In a way, the Mayan ancestors made his feel safe and proud, as if his grandfather were standing next to him, telling him the stories of the Ancient Ones again. There was also a stir of blood in his veins.

Something about this hallway wasn't quite right
. Something primal. Cocking his head, he breathed in, realizing that what he had mistaken for fresh air was merely cold air. The animal inside of him smelled something amiss. His ears perked and he let out a low, cruel growl that came from the pit of his stomach. There was too much silence. The air moved in an endless, artificially glacial wind. This world had been created, and Miguel had to be on his guard if he expected to meet the creator in his own realm and come out alive.

He replaced the glasses for a moment, getting his bearings on the skeleton of the house before he began walking with stealth grace
. His profile cut a frightening portrait; high, chiseled cheekbones, a strong hooked nose, a devastatingly challenging smile. The peaceful Mayans would have balked at the Aztec stalking the hallways under their painted noses.

Another creature followed close behind, quietly
. He kept to the shadows, the recesses and the crevices. They were the places that had nurtured him since childhood and the places he felt most comfortable. He let the fool parade around his house like an idiot, looking for the woman that only one of them could have. The woman only one of them would have. There would be time to kill soon enough.

Ava's breath came out rapidly, and her years of training took over before her mind could fully communicate exactly what had just happened
. She had found Marie, alive!

But barely
. The young blonde was in the tub, looking drugged and unhappy. There was something very eerie in the way she didn't move at all, as if she were.....but Ava couldn't let her thoughts stray that way. She rushed into the tiny room, throwing herself on the floor, cradling Marie's head.

Why wouldn't the girl look up at her?

Why was she so cold, so heavy?

Ava's arms were stiff for a moment
. Suddenly, without warning, Marie's head rolled back on her shoulders, revealing dull eyes half shut and a ghoulish looking mouth, hanging open despondently.

"Marie, we're here to help you
. Marie, this is Ava, your mother sent me I'm here...." she stopped because the girl's wrists bobbed to the surface. She had cut them open and Ava finally noticed the pink ribbons of blood dancing into the water.

Why hadn't she noticed them before?

Ava took hold of Marie under the girl's limp shoulders, pulling her out of the water in a rush. There wasn't any time for Ava to think or consider. She searched the bathroom for some kind of bandage and managed to come across an old, ragged towel. Putting her teeth to the cloth, she tried to tear it, but it wound up being a much more involved activity than they made it look in the movies. Finally, she pulled two long strips from the cotton and tied them around Marie's wrists, pulling the girl's wet body to her.

Body quaking, Ava tried to decide what to do next
. She needed to make sure Marie was warm and dry. Most of all, she needed to get her charge immediate medical attention.

Ava imagined Josephine at home, looking anxiously out the window every few minutes
. The mother would be waiting for the return of her pretty young daughter. How was Ava going to deliver this sad shriveled vampire?  It felt like the room was spinning as she knotted a sheet around the girl's body and pulled a phone out of her bag. She needed help.

Lucia was about to duck behind a tapestry when the lights in the hallway burned out
. Magdalene clamped her hand over her mouth to keep down the yelp of terror that surged from her mouth. The place was bad enough with the dim, ugly lights on. In the pitch black it was horrifying. She felt a smooth hand wrap around her wrist, fine feminine nails biting into her skin. Lucia was dragging her forward hurriedly, opening a door and pulling her into a room where they braced against the closed door, bodies tight as frightened siblings.

"He did this," Lucia gasped.

"What?  Angel?  He turned off the electricity?" Magdalene asked.

"Uh huh," Lucia said, her breathing shaky and unmeasured.

"Why would he do that?"  Magdalene asked, hoping that Lucia would not lose it on her.

"So the only way to see is by fire light
. Fire makes him strong, it's the only weapon he needs," she said. "This time, though, I'm going to use it too."  Her voice was sharp as glass, cutting through the inky wash of the room. Magdalene felt her lips curve into a confident smile at Lucia's confession, until an animal moan from across the room made her heart freeze mid-beat.

Miguel felt like a wolf, the smell of the hunt in his nostrils
. The lights were completely out, but Cormac's goggles allowed him to see shapes and grids. Even without the technology, his senses told him that Angel was in the room, ready to pounce.

He waited, listening for the slow, even breathing that gave Angel away
. Miguel's ears pricked as they followed the steady rhythm in and out, quietly moving.

"Angel!  I can smell you, brother!  Come out and fight like a man!" he yelled, his
voice echoing off of the cold walls.

The answer snaked into his ear
. Even though he knew it was impossible, Miguel could have sworn that the words came from inches away. "We don't fight like men, because we're not men. We're not like the cops. We're not like the cowboys,
brother,"
he hissed, the last word hitting like a warm breath against Miguel's neck. "We're the killers, man. The animals, the beasts. The ones you tell your kids don't exist, but you know they do. And you been pretending that you belong in this pretty fairy tale world too long, Miguel."

Angel was circling him
. He could feel the air currents moving around, could hear the soft step of Angel's smooth leather shoes against the hard floor. Miguel's hands fisted, his back went up. He didn't want to hear a word this lunatic said. He just wanted to finish what he had started years ago.

"You are the beast, brother, but in this story I get to be the hero
. I'm not part of your pack anymore. You can't intimidate me. You can't threaten me. It's just the two of us now, no innocents this time."  Miguel felt his ears prick up, stuck his nose in the air to better gauge where Angel might be.

A strangled laugh mauled the dark air that was becoming moister and more oppressive each electricity-less moment that passed
. "No innocents?  What about your little whore?  What about......Whoa!  Whoa!  Calm down tiger!" he laughed as Miguel's hand came within inches of his head.

"You fucking asshole!"  He could hardly speak because he just wanted to lash out with his fists
. Rage colored everything red as Miguel thrashed and swung without any real focus.

The click of a lighter broke the spell, illuminating Angel in a deep red light
. He smiled, the fire flickering off of his sharp teeth, glistening off of his greased hair. His hand moved quickly, igniting a few surrounding candles.

"I'm right here, Miguel
. Don't waste any more strength. I want this to be a fair fight."  He lashed out with a single slicing movement.

Pain seared across Miguel's arm
. He put his hand up to the spot and lifted his wet fingers away, revealing the stain of his own blood. It took a split second for him to react, for his fist to meet Angel's face.

The impact sent Angel flying into the wall, his bony face thrown back
. A light bruise was already visible on his cheek, but his face betrayed no visible signs of pain. A cocky smile licked at his features, daring Miguel to keep it coming.

"Just like on the streets, man
. Just like when we were brothers forever, until you pussied out."  Angel's eyes blazed with a crazed vengeance.

"Let it go, Angel," Miguel growled, his body crouched and ready for another punch
. "I put my time in. You and I don't share anything. We never really did."