Wen

  He inched down the stairwell into the finished basement.

  The sight of eight bodies shocked him. They’d been callously dumped on the floor. He only picked up a few heartbeats, and they were faint. He silently mouthed a curse. He hadn’t expected victims. He walked closer and crouched beside the one nearest him.

  There was blood around the man’s mouth. Wen leaned in and sniffed.

  Dread hit hard as he glanced at the others. He could see some of their faces. They had blood around their lips too. Vamp blood.

  Fucking Horton had turned them.

  Another heartbeat suddenly joined the others. They were turning from dead to undead.

  Wen sheathed his knife to free his hand. He touched the one next to him, using his finger and thumb to open the eyelid. Rage hit next as he stared into the bloodshot eyeball of the unconscious victim. Not a Vamp. It was going to wake up a soldier. He was certain of it. The proof was in the eyes, and the fact that he had died before turning.

  Just to be sure though, he released the eyelid and leaned in closer to study the man’s complexion. He saw the beginnings of very faint, darkening veins under the skin, but the victim still smelled human. That fight last night must have made Horton worry about the Lycans outnumbering his nest.

  It was a fucked-up situation, but Wen knew what he had to do. He rose up, ignoring the still bodies. They wouldn’t be dangerous until the sun went down and they were done turning. He had more pressing matters to deal with first.

  He walked down a small hallway, paused near a closed door and frowned. It was a security door with at least four locks. He moved to the next room and eased that standard door open. It was a storage space with some furniture inside, no scent of Vamp there. Next, he went to the room across from it. It contained cleaning supplies, some paint, and other things that were probably used to maintain the building.

  He returned to the furniture storage and glanced around, found metal bed frame rails, and lifted two of them. He tested their strength by trying to bend them. They held. He kept very quiet, entered the hallway, and studied the enforced safety door. He set the rails on the floor and returned the maintenance storage room. There was no rope but he found cables. They’d work. He returned to the hallway and tied them tight around the railing, then pushed the railing against the walls across the door, pressing his body up against them to keep them from falling. He attached the cords to the doors that opened inward.

  The Vamps might try to open the door from the inside but they’d have difficulty. He backed away, eyeing his handiwork. The rails would work as a reverse brace. The door wouldn’t open more than about four inches before the rails slammed against it. He grinned, then entered the room with furniture that was right next to the Vamps’.

  He eyed the drywall, glad it wasn’t brick. He took some deep breaths, rolled his shoulders, and then bent, retrieving his hunting knife. He withdrew another one from his boot, rose up, and surged forward.

  He hit the wall hard, using his shoulder and tucking his head, going straight through the cheaply constructed barrier.

  All four Vamps were there. They had set up two bunk beds. Horton woke and rolled out of a top bunk. He hissed as he landed on his feet, looking confused as Wen shook off debris from the wall and insulation.

  “What the hell are you doing?”

  Two of the Vamps stirred but they were more sluggish. The fourth didn’t move at all. It was a mistake that Horton hadn’t made him stronger after he’d survived the Lycan fight. Then again, Wen wasn’t surprised. He didn’t think much of the bastard.

  “What do you think? You want to turn my mate into a soldier. Fuck you!”

  Wen lunged, going for the closest Vamp, who’d managed to get to his feet. Wen took his head off with his blades and dust filled the room.

  He went after Horton next.

  The master hissed and leapt, jumping back onto his bunk. Wen knew he’d try to dive over him to get to the wall he’d broken through, or attempt to reach the grate he saw on the floor under one of the beds. That was probably the escape route out of the building. He couldn’t let it happen.

  He shoved one of his knives into the heart of the second Vamp to free his hand, grabbed the guy by the throat, and threw him at Horton.

  Using his superior speed and strength to reach them quickly, Wen tossed the Vamp aside and grabbed Horton. He punched out with his second knife, the blade sinking into Horton’s neck.

  The master screamed, the sound coming out more of a gurgling noise.

  The injured Vamp leapt on Wen’s back but he ignored it, keeping hold of Horton as he gripped the handle of the blade and violently twisted.

  He felt fangs sink into his shoulder, the bastard on his back trying to weaken him. But he refused to let go of the master.

  Horton stared at him with horrified eyes for a precious second—and then it was over. His head came off and he burst into ash.

  Wen stabbed the Vamp behind him in the head, reached back to fist him by his hair, and ripped him off him. He threw the bastard on the floor, trying to use his boot to stomp him in the ribs, but his foot slipped in all the blood coating the guy’s upper body from the stab he’d taken to the chest earlier.

  The room spun but Wen ignored the dizzy moment, fell on the Vamp, and yanked his knife free. He hacked at his neck, removing his head. The body under him disappeared into ash.

  Wen sat there on his knees, slowing his breaths before reaching up, feeling the rip in his shirt. It was soaked.

  He turned his head, angling it enough to see how much damage had been done. The bastard had torn him open with his fangs. It would heal, but he’d bled a lot. He stayed down for a few more moments, taking deep breaths. He finally rose, reached the sleeping Vamp, and ended him with the flash of his blade.

  He picked up his other blade, wiggled through the hole in the wall, and left the furniture storage room. The master and his Vamps had been taken care of. Now he just had to deal with the soldiers.

  More heartbeats sounded now. The dead were coming back to life. They couldn’t be saved, it was too late for them, and they wouldn’t turn to ash if he removed their heads. He’d have to kill them and destroy the bodies with fire.

  Guilt hit but he pushed it back. Their fates had been sealed the moment Horton had forced his blood into them, then killed them. He couldn’t allow a bunch of bloodthirsty savages to be let loose on a city.

  Noise sounded above his head and he tensed. It was a miracle the Lycans hadn’t already come downstairs. They had to have heard the fight that had taken place in the other room. He sheathed his knives, no longer needing silence.

  He unleashed his claws and waited. It didn’t take long. The door above burst open with the sound of wood cracking. Footsteps thundered down the stairs. Joel was the first one to arrive.

  “It’s over,” Wen told him. “Horton is dead. Just walk way.”

  More Lycans filled the room behind Joel. The alpha held up his hand, glaring at Wen. “What did you do?”

  “Look at the bodies on the floor. Do you know what they are?”

  “Dying humans.” Joel glanced at them, curling his lip. “The Vamps feed off them.”

  “Wrong. Your little fight with Horton last night must have made him uneasy. These were humans, but by sundown they’ll become soldiers. Think super-tough Vamps with bloodlust unlike anything you’ve ever seen. They’ll recover faster than a normal Vamp and grow more insane every time they’re injured. He brought them into this building to use against you. And they would have turned your pack into food. Understand? I did you a favor.”

  “Horton was going to make us rich.”

  “You’re an idiot if you believed anything that Vampire told you, Joel. He was using you until you weren’t needed anymore. Then he would have slaughtered your pack with these things on the floor. Did you hear him last night, ordering me to fight your pack? Notice how I didn’t? My beef isn’t with you.”

  More Lycans eased into the room. Wen kept track. There wer
e nineteen of them. He was greatly outnumbered and damn sorry he hadn’t brought his guns to the fight. He would have, but he’d had to get Gerri to safety, and the risk of humans on the street noticing he wore weapons would have drawn attention. And he hadn’t had the opportunity to return upstairs to grab his backpack.

  Joel snarled, hair growing along his body. “Fine. We’ll ransom you for the reward money.”

  “I hate to break it to you, but I cut my own deal with the VampLycans who were hunting me. I called my old clan after that fight last night. They wanted Horton dead. He pissed them off even more than I did. The bounty is gone. You won’t get a fucking cent for me.” Wen wasn’t about to admit there hadn’t been a real bounty. “It’s over.”

  “You cost us a lot of fucking money, VampLycan,” Joel snarled. “You’re going to die for that!”

  They attacked in pack formation. Wen tensed, knowing he’d have to fight his way to the stairs they currently blocked. It would help if he could bottleneck them there, take on fewer at a time. He’d have to reach the stairwell first though.

  At least the dead humans weren’t a threat until the sun went down and they awoke soldiers.

  Six Lycans hit him at once, pain shooting up his arms from their claws, and Joel tried to go for his throat. Wen slashed out, his knife making the alpha scream in agony.

  The Lycans began shifting, growing fur, and pushing against each other to get to him. He staggered back, throwing them off and dropping his weapon in order to free his claws. Then he tripped on a damn soldier body and went down.

  Fangs tore into various body parts and he roared, twisting to protect his belly, then shoved up from the floor. He got to his feet and fought hard. It was tempting to shift but he was just as lethal half-shifted. It also made it harder for them to do as much damage with his clothes on.

  He fought on, killing any Lycan that got close enough. At one point a wolf leapt at him. Too late, he tried to duck—but the Were sailed over his head, clearly on purpose, slamming into another Lycan that had been sneaking up from behind.

  Wen identified the markings on the fur and laughed. Graves had come.

  He spotted another familiar furry body by the stairwell, tearing out a Lycan’s throat. Micah was there too.

  He was going to survive after all.

  Wen felt dizzy and almost dropped to his knees as another set of fangs sank into his arm. He threw the bastard, smashing him against a wall. His claws plunged through the Lycan’s throat as he held it there. The enemy died fast.

  He let the body fall, snarling as two more of the pack attacked.

  Chapter Twelve

  Gerri was worried as she sat on a bench outside the private airport. A guard inside had started circling her, so she’d left the interior to wait where she could see the parking lot. Once in a while she’d go inside to use the bathroom and glance at a clock on the wall. Wen and Micah should have shown up over three hours ago.

  Something is really wrong. The thought kept repeating in her mind.

  She’d called Micah’s number a dozen times from the payphone but it had gone straight to voicemail. He couldn’t exactly call her back since he had her cell. She regretted handing it over to him, along with her license. What if they never showed? She only had about a hundred and sixty dollars left out of the wad of money Wen had given her. She’d be stranded in Washington with no one to call for help.

  A black classic muscle car pulled into the lot and parked. Gerri watched as a big man climbed out and she was on her feet in a heartbeat. It was Micah. She rushed toward him, her gaze darting from him to the passenger side. Wen didn’t get out. Micah walked to the front of the car and waited for her. She realized he was alone as she got closer to the car.

  “Where is he? Is he okay?”

  Micah gripped her arms, his expression grim. “Wen got hurt but he’s healing.”

  “Oh God.” She’d known it in her gut. “How bad?”

  “The pack tore him up quite a bit before we got there but I swear he’ll be fine.”

  “Where’s your SUV? Is he driving it?” She stepped to the right, staring at the entrance to the parking lot.

  Micah pulled her back and leaned down a little, holding her gaze. “He’s healing. Graves is tending to him while he’s down for the next few days.”

  She closed her eyes, fighting the urge to be sick. VampLycans were fast healers, so his injuries had to have almost killed him if Micah’s brother had to take care of Wen. It meant he was in really bad shape.

  “Gerri? Look at me.”

  She opened her eyes.

  “Wen is going to be fine. I wouldn’t lie to you.”

  “Take me to him.”

  His hold on her tightened. “He ordered me to fly you home and stay with you until he’s able to join us. I’m going to protect you while you’re carrying his scent.”

  “No. Take me to Wen.”

  “It got messy, Gerri. Do you understand? Wen wants you where you’ll be safe. That’s home and far from here. The police might be looking for you at some point if they interview any of the neighbors around the nest building. You and Wen were seen in that neighborhood.”

  “What happened?”

  “Wen took out Horton and his little nest but the bastard had made soldiers. They were still turning but hadn’t changed completely yet. The rogue pack was pretty pissed and decided to try to tear apart my cousin. It was a bloodbath. Do you know what it means when you kill newly made soldiers?”

  She shook her head.

  “Freshly made ones leave bodies behind. Plus we killed the pack, and they don’t ash either. There was no way to remove all of the dead in a populated area without someone noticing, not to mention the blood would have remained. It meant taking down the building to destroy the evidence.”

  She stared up at him, stunned.

  “We had to set the building on fire, then make it explode,” he explained. “That drew human attention. I’m sure by now the cops are interviewing people to try to figure out what the hell happened. You could have been seen, understand? The cops might want to talk to you.”

  “Shit.” He was right.

  “There was no choice. My brother is an expert at that kind of thing. Nothing will remain that the humans will be able to make sense of, if they even bother to dig out that basement. He made sure it was hot enough to obliterate anything down there. Our kind don’t burn the same as humans do. It’s something to do with our blood. We’re pretty sure it’s the same with the soldiers. They all had heartbeats by the time Graves had rigged everything.”

  “Heartbeats?”

  “Don’t ask.” Micah looked around. “I need to go inside, file a flight plan, and get us the hell out of Washington. Right now, the police will hopefully believe the explosion was caused by a gas leak. Graves made a 9-1-1 call from inside the building right before it blew, saying he smelled gas. The farther you are from here, the better, in case they think it was arson.”

  “Do you think I’ll get blamed?”

  “No. You were here before that building went. You’ve been inside, right? These places have cameras.”

  “Yes, until one of the guards kept staring at me. Other people were here to meet pilots or owned planes. I just sat inside, worrying about when you and Wen would get here. I think I was making him nervous so I came outside.”

  “Then you have an alibi. Now let’s make sure it’s a good one. I’m sorry I’m late. I’ll say I got a flat tire if anyone asks.” He released her. “Your bag is in the trunk. Let me grab it and mine. Travelers have luggage.”

  She followed him to the back of the car, where he retrieved her backpack and his duffle. “Rental?”

  “My brother’s. He kept the SUV. The backseat is soaked in Wen’s blood. I’ll report it stolen in the morning. It will be found sometime tomorrow, a burned-out shell. That will give Graves time to torch it tonight.”

  Her stomach was tied up in knots. “How bad is Wen? Be honest.”

  “We got there and heard
the fighting in the basement. The pack was all going at him. Lots of bites, but he’s got all his fingers and toes.”

  That didn’t make her feel any better.

  Micah led her inside the building. “I’m your boyfriend.”

  “Are you still Fred Tobis?”

  “Yes. Just don’t talk unless you have to. Draw as little attention as possible. We don’t have Wen with us this time to flash his bright blues to erase memories.”

  “Got it.”

  Micah pointed to a set of chairs. “Take a seat. I have to go deal with the paperwork. Use the bathroom while I’m gone too. I’m hoping I get us in the air within half an hour.”

  “Can I call Wen?”

  He frowned. “He’s probably sleeping, Gerri. It’s the best thing for him while he’s healing.”

  “I’ll feel better if I can hear his voice. Please?”

  He hesitated, then fished out his phone from his back pocket. “Only use this phone, never your own. Speaking of, I put yours in your backpack. Don’t copy his number down for later. We’re using VampLycan-owned cells, and they scramble the numbers in case one is ever taken by an enemy. They show up as caller unknown with no info. You call him from your phone, and everyone who has access to your records will have his number. Not to mention, your number will show up on his phone, probably your name too, and his clan will be able to track your cell. That would be very bad, considering I know damn well Wen doesn’t want his parents to find out he’s been with you.”

  “I get it.”

  He looked down at his phone, using his thumb to touch the face. “Keep it short. He needs to heal.” He handed it over. “Hit connect when you’re ready. I’ll give you privacy. I should be back soon.”

  She took the phone, her heart pounding, and watched Micah walk up to a counter, talking to the woman behind it. Gerri took a seat and pressed her thumb down. She lifted the phone, putting it to her ear. Seconds passed and then it rang. She closed her eyes as it rang again, then again.