Wayward Son (17 page)

She ran to the mountains. Her anger fueled by pain…pushing her to run further, faster. And then she saw
him
. So tall. So blindingly beautiful. His alabaster skin, soft blue eyes, yellow hair and…yes…wings. White and soft, like the wings of a dove. His skin glowed with a radiance she’d never seen. His beauty was like none other.

He was her first lover. She surrendered herself to him willingly, and he showed her things that she never knew possible. He promised her everything. She would live forever. She would rule this earth. He would give her a Legion to command. Six thousand bloodthirsty warriors…hers for the taking.

She gave herself willingly. Heart, mind, body and soul. He was her master now. Her creator was no more. She turned her back on Him entirely. She belonged entirely to Samael.

The images flashed through his mind so rapidly that Damien couldn’t breathe. He tried to suck in air and he felt bloody foam forming in his throat…the images of her life, running from village to village, forced to live off the blood of people like a vampire. A
daywalking
vampire. She can walk in the light!

Rome! Rome was her undoing! She was caught! Oh, the terrible things they did to her. She prayed to him. Samael, save me! But he didn’t come. The tortures they invented just for her. As she lay stretched out, naked, scarred, about to be drawn and quartered, he came. Finally. But he didn’t save her. “The time is not right,” he whispered. With a single kiss to her forehead, he gave her the knowledge. Now she knew how to call her Legion. Now, when it was too late. She stared up at his beautiful form, his dove like wings folded behind him as he stood over her. “Your day will come again, my love.”

Darkness…

10

“You’re absolutely certain it was Apollo?
Our
Apollo?” Mitchell found his chest tightening and a lump forming in his throat. He had been so preoccupied with the mission and the cleanup from the attack, then the next op immediately afterward, he had completely forgotten protocols. Namely, mustering his personnel. Then he remembered that he had granted the man leave along with the others from his team. His mind spun as he considered Jack’s words and the second guessing was muddying his thoughts.

“Yes, sir, I’m absolutely certain it was him. We had a very tense…conversation.” Jack studied his old commanding officer and could see the multiple emotions trying to cross his features. “He singled me out of the entire group. Blamed me for something to do with Maria?” Jack studied Mitchell who gave him a blank stare.

“You mean her death? Jack, you had nothing to do with that.”

“I know that, sir.” Jack sat up straighter in his chair and cleared his throat. “Sheridan got to him, sir. Got into his head. Convinced him that there was more going on with Maria and the Padre than what we thought.”

“Sheridan?” Mitchell was on his feet, his eyes bulging. “That son of a bitch is supposed to be in WitSec!”

“Understood, sir, but Apollo was pretty adamant. Sheridan had a video of Maria and the Padre together and…”

Mitchell glanced down, his jaw ticking. “And?”

“And somehow Marshall knew. Apollo says he caught them or something. Anyway, Sheridan used it to get inside his head and twist him all up.” Jack stood and paced to try to burn off the nervous energy. “Sherry got him so twisted up that he blamed the entire team. Convinced him to attack us at the island. A lot of good men died out there.”

“Mueller?” Mitchell’s eyes indicated he was asking about more than just Robert.

“Negative, sir. He and his family are safe. They stayed behind to let me know in case Rufus returns.” Jack reached into his blouse and retrieved the blue notebook. “I believe this belongs to Dr. Peters.”

Mitchell took the notebook and flipped through the pages absently. “So the bastard did steal it.”

“And he tried to build something from there, I’m afraid.” Matt’s head jerked around and met Jack’s gaze. “I can’t say for sure that it’s the Doomsday weapon that Doc told you about, but whatever it was blew up when he tried to use it. The only thing left was a smoking crater.”

“Did you direct the crews from the chopper to pick through it and bring back whatever they could find?”

Jack smirked and fell back into his chair. “Of course, that was one of the first things I did. I wanted to know if there were any remains in that hole as well.”

Mitchell sat back into his chair and ran a hand across his face. “So if I’m putting the pieces together correctly, Sheridan is behind the attacks. But why?”

“He may have recruited Apollo, and he may well have been behind the attacks here, but he’s a merc, sir. A hired gun. He doesn’t have the resources to hire a bunch of werewolves and have them put their lives on the line for money.” Matt looked up and studied him at that. “Wolves fight for honor, for their pack, or because their Alpha tells them to. They don’t fight for material wealth.” Jack shook his head. “No, if Sheridan is behind this, he was hired to direct it, but he’s not running it. Somebody more important is.”

“Great. Valuable intel, but we’re still no closer to knowing who’s behind this.” Matt stood and made his way to the door, notebook in hand. “Go check on your team. I’m going to return this to Doc. Maybe he’ll finally relax a bit.”

“Once he finds out that Thorn had prototypes built, he’s going to need some industrial strength Xanax.”

*****

After escorting Little John and his vampire sister back to base, Donovan quickly made his report then went in search of Major Tufo. He had no desire to watch any more of the drama that was the life and times of the family Sullivan. The entire command was abuzz with what happened with the XO and the rumor mill was running on overtime. He had a sneaky suspicion and needed to either put it to rest or try to help his friend in dealing with what he knew he was facing.

After discovering what room the Tufo’s were tucked into, Donnie double-timed below decks and found a corpsman exiting as he approached. “How’s he holding up?”

The corpsman turned and shook his head. “Cranky son of a bitch.”

“I can hear you,” Mark shouted from inside the room. Donnie shot the withering corpsman a smile and patted his shoulder as he passed him.

“Don’t worry, he’s always like that.”

“And the white horse you rode in on, Donovan,” Major Tufo called through the closed door.

Donnie looked to the corpsman and shrugged. “See?” he whispered. He knocked lightly on the door and stuck his head in. “Permission to enter, sir?”

“Denied! Get the hell out,” Mark barked and tried to roll over. Tracy rolled her eyes and gave Donovan a look that he could only describe as ‘exasperated’.

“Has he been this pleasant the whole time?” Donnie asked as he stepped into the room.

“Worse,” Tracy answered as she stood and stretched her neck. “He has some periods where he’s a total ass, but then his mood really sours.”

Donnie gave her a reassuring smile and a gentle hug. “Why don’t you go grab some coffee. Give me and Major Pain here a little bit to visit.”

“My pleasure.” Tracy stepped past the man and reached for the door. “You have my permission to beat him if he gets too hateful.”

“Yes, ma’am.” Donovan shot her a wink as she headed down the hall. He pulled the chair over and sat facing his XO. “So.”

Mark turned his head slightly and opened one eye. “So? So what?”

“So, how was your day?” Donnie gave him a silly grin and Mark’s face turned red.

“Are you kidding me? I had my guts ripped out by a fucking wolf and you ask me how my day was?” Donnie watched as the veins in his neck bulged.

“Feeling a bit aggravated? Depressed maybe? Ready to eat that silver bullet yet?” Donnie crossed his arms and continued to shoot him that same stupid silly grin.

“What the hell would you know about it?” Mark scooted slightly further away and turned his face toward the wall.

“Major…” Donnie sighed and ran a hand over his face. “Mark, look at me. Give me your attention for just a moment, will ya?”

“Why should I?”

“Maybe because you and I share something more than just a working relationship. Maybe because we’re friends.” Donnie leaned forward and lowered his voice. “Tink-tink-tink…”

Mark’s eyes flew open and he snapped his head around to stare at the man. “What the hell is that supposed to mean?”

“It means I’m not ready to give you that Viking funeral just yet.” Donnie stared at him intently and Mark noted the seriousness of his face.

With a sigh, the major pushed himself up, his face breaking out into a cold sweat from the pain. “Okay, Donovan, say what you have to say then get the hell out.”

Donnie grunted and leaned back in his chair. “What you’re going through isn’t unusual, but it will pass.” He spoke slowly and softly, his eyes focused on a spot far, far away. “Others…other survivors, they’ve all reported the same thing. As the infection spreads through them, their first and only thoughts are how to get rid of it. Even if it means killing themselves.” He finally turned and looked at Mark who seemed to be hanging on his every word now. “Slowly, they come around and realize that it’s not a death sentence. Some may still consider it a curse, but it’s a manageable one.”

“How the hell would you know? You were a test tube conversion.” He didn’t try to hide the bitterness in his voice.

“True. But there are a lot of others who weren’t. And I took the time to talk with them.” He leaned in again and stared at the man. “Just like I took the time to figure out how to deal with certain woodland Sprites.”

“You keep that shit to yourself, you hear me?” Mark shot a furtive glance to the door then pointed a finger back at Donovan. “Not a word, you understand?”

“I have no idea what you’re talking about, Major. What happens in the field stays in the field.” Donovan sat back and stared at him again. “But you need to understand that this anger and bitterness and…well, all of it. It’s part of the transition. Not to mention a bit of survivor’s guilt tossed in, I’m sure.”

“Pfft. Listen to Doctor Phil, here.”

“Just experience talking.” Donnie stood and pushed the chair back. “But I wanted to toss something out for you to think about before I left.”

“What’s that?” Mark spat.

“You
just
got infected. You
know
what infected you. It hasn’t been a full moon yet.” Donnie leaned against the door and watched him, waiting for the light bulb to come on over his head.

“So? BFD, bub. I guess you’re going to tell me that, since I know what it was, I can make proper arrangements and all will be right with the world, huh? I can keep my family safe if I lock myself up downstairs in the silver cells and howl at the moon every month?”

Donnie shook his head as he watched his XO bark at him. “Negative.” He turned and opened the door. “But we both happen to know an organization that has these little black pills you can take that might very well keep the whole thing at bay.” He saw that bulb light up and fought the smile curving the edges of his mouth. “Seeing as how you just got infected, it might be a good time to see about getting a big supply of those pills. Don’tcha think?”

*****

Little John escorted Brooke deep into the hangar and below decks, security personnel on either side as they walked. “Are they necessary? I came of my own volition.”

“Sorry, sis. Rules,” John mumbled. He pointed to a door at the end of the hall where another security guard stood. The man opened the door and John escorted her inside the bare room. A lone table with two chairs sat in the middle.

Brooke looked around the room before sitting in the chair opposite the two way mirror. “An interrogation room?” She crossed her arms over her chest and sat stiffly, her face straight ahead.

“I’m sorry,” John whispered. “It’s all just a precaution.” Brooke sat stonily opposite him and stared at the mirror facing her. As John milled about she caught herself stealing a furtive glance at him and catching the similarities between him and their father. She almost felt a pang of regret as memories flooded her mind; memories of a simpler time when her biggest worry was maintaining her GPA.

The steel door flew open and Colonel Mitchell stepped inside with Jack in tow. Little John stiffened slightly and Brooke noticed immediately his change in body language. “Colonel?” John motioned toward Jack, his eyes narrowed.

“John Sullivan, Jack Thompson.” Mitchell had a folder in his hands, his face buried in it.

Jack reached out a hand and accepted John’s. He tried not to let it show how unnerved he was at meeting somebody even larger than Apollo in such tight quarters. “I’m here as a courtesy to the Colonel.”

“And your purpose here?” John’s curiosity piqued as Jack did a double take at the question.

“Evaluator.” Jack held the door open for John who stared at him blankly. “We’ll need a few minutes alone with her, thank you.”

Mitchell didn’t look up from his papers when he stated, “Sullivan, don’t you have a weapon to check in and a preliminary report to file?”

Little John stiffened, the veins in his neck bulging as he stepped toward the open door. “Yes, sir.”

“We’ll inform you of our findings,” Jack said, his face unreadable. He let the door pull shut behind John then turned and took a seat at the table. “I can see the resemblance.”

Brooke turned cold eyes to him. “It’s the facial hair, isn’t it?”

Mitchell glanced up from the file and fought a smile. “I think she likes you, Jack.”

“Don’t they all, Colonel.” Jack continued to study the young woman, his face stoic. “What’s your story?”

“I’m a vampire.” Brooke stared at him, her dark eyes unblinking. Jack waited for her to continue but she apparently thought those three words were enough.

“And I’m a werewolf. That isn’t the whole story.”

“It should be enough.” She tilted her head slightly and studied him. “You weren’t always a wolf, were you?”

Jack shook his head. “You weren’t always a vampire. I guess we have something in common.”

A light knock at the door raised Mitchell’s head and he stood to answer it while Jack continued to play the game with the young woman. He opened the door to find a rather anxious Elf standing on the other side trying to peer over the man’s shoulder. “I must speak to Chief Jack.”

“He’s a little busy at the moment.” Mitchell tried to pull the door shut when Kalen shoved his foot into the way, blocking the door.

“I must speak with him. It is most important.”

“Unless we’re under attack again, it can wait.” Mitchell lowered his voice and glared at the young Elf. “Trust me, now is not the time.”

Kalen lowered his own voice and pointed over Mitchell’s shoulder. “If that is the female vampire slayer that he is speaking to, there is something he must know!”