He watched Fowler walk across the clearing and disappear into the thick shrub. After several seconds of silence, he grabbed the tree branch and flipped his legs over. Wood caught at his stomach, tearing deep gashes. More pain flared across his shoulders as his arms took the brunt of his weight. The tree branch dipped slightly, and the crack of wood splintering echoed across the silence, as sharp as a gunshot. Cursing softly, he dropped to the ground, landing catlike, his fingertips digging into the dirt to steady himself. Hot lances of fire shot up the backs of his legs, and moisture began to run down his spine. He ignored both, listening. Shrubs moved to his left. He ducked behind the trunk of the gum that had saved his life.
Fowler reentered the clearing, his gun—a standard laser rifle—raised, and his beady eyes narrowed as he sighted. He studied the clearing for several seconds, then relaxed and glanced up at the tree. Even from where Gabriel crouched, it was easy to see the understanding dawn in Fowler’s eyes. He had to act now, while he still had the advantage of surprise.
He launched himself at Fowler. The short man aimed and fired. The shot hissed through the air, burned past Gabriel’s ear and hit the tree trunk. But Fowler didn’t have time for a second shot, because Gabriel was on him, tackling him to the ground and forcing the weapon out of his grip. Fowler cursed and punched, his blows landing thick and fast. Pain rolled through Gabriel, but he ignored the blows raining on his body, and, with as much force as he could muster, chopped his hand down on Fowler’s windpipe. Fowler was dead before he knew what was happening.
Gabriel blew out a breath, climbed off Fowler’s body, and patted him down. There was a knife strapped to his left wrist and a small two-way in his right jacket pocket. He took the knife, squashed the two-way under his heel and stripped off Fowler’s jacket. Then he tore off the bloody remnants of his own shirt and dragged the body into the bushes.
Using what was left of his shirt, he wiped the blood off his stomach and back. The wounds on his stomach were a good quarter of an inch deep each, and oozing steadily. He could also feel a warm stickiness across his back and down the side of his face. Trophies from his descent through the tree, no doubt. There wasn’t anything he could do about the bleeding right now, other than hope there were no feline shapechangers in the immediate area; they’d smell his scent a mile off. He tossed the bloodied shirt on top of Fowler’s body and covered both with leaf litter.
After pulling on Fowler’s jacket and zipping it up, he grabbed the rifle and checked the laser’s charge. Nearly full. Good. He turned and made his way to the bushes where Fowler had first appeared. A faint path wound its way through the trees, heading down the hillside.
He followed it carefully, listening intently to the sigh of the wind, alert for any hint of pursuit or discovery. He was halfway down the hillside when several buildings became visible through the trees below. Squatting, he studied them. They looked like part of an everyday farm, only this farm had a helicopter pad, complete with a silver bird. It also had a sentry guarding the entrance to its driveway. The slight shimmer in the air near the guard’s box suggested the gates themselves were an energy field.
As he watched, a car pulled up to the guard’s box. The car’s windows were tinted so dark it was impossible to see the driver, meaning the passenger was possibly a vampire. The sentry walked across, talking to the driver for several minutes. Then he stepped back, and the shimmer of energy died.
The car drove on and came to a stop near the front porch. A woman climbed out, then hesitated, her gaze searching the hillside. Mary, Gabriel thought, surprised. Mary, who was supposed to be a vampire and yet was standing there in the full sunlight. She turned, studying the trees in which he hid. Perhaps she’d sensed his presence. She’d always been intuitive that way.
After several seconds, she headed for the front door and disappeared inside.
He continued down the hill. As he neared the fence, energy zipped across his skin, as sharp as a knife. He picked up a rock near his feet and gently tossed it forward. One foot away from the fence line, there was a sharp whine, then a flash of white light, and the rock shattered. The remaining dust drifted to the ground. He picked up another rock, this time aiming far higher. The result was the same.
So, they didn’t have only the front gate guarded by an energy field. The generators had to be either in the sheds or underground, because they weren’t anywhere that he could see. Given that the sky was also shielded, the front gate was obviously the only way in and out, at least until the generators were knocked off-line.
Which meant he’d have to take out the guard. Keeping low, he raced along the fence line until he was level with the sentry box. Then, getting down on one knee, he sighted the laser on the tree just behind the box and fired. There was a sharp crack, then the branch he’d aimed for fell almost gracefully to the ground. The guard scrambled out, weapon raised.
Gabriel sighted again and fired. The guard dropped and didn’t move. He waited several seconds, not sure whether there was a second guard inside. When no one appeared, he made his way down to the road.
The guard was dead, with a hole the size of a fist shot through his gut. But knowing the guard would have done the same to him given half a chance, Gabriel stepped over his body, feeling no remorse, and entered the sentry box.
A half-eaten sandwich and a tattered Playboy magazine rested on the shelf near a small com-screen. He moved over to the unit and watched the images flickering on the screen. Mary came into view, walking swiftly along a corridor that curved to the left, gradually taking her out of the camera’s sight. The image flickered and changed, this time revealing a room filled with coffin-shaped boxes. After several seconds it changed again, sweeping across the front of the farmyard.
No one was about—at least, no one he could see. He had no doubt there would be guards; it was just a matter of where. All he had to do was get into the house. He pressed a button on the com-unit. Nothing happened. The energy field remained in place.
“Computer, disengage gate.”
The computer hummed softly, and then a metallic voice said, “Please confirm identity.”
He swore softly, then spun and walked out to the fallen sentry. Ignoring the stench of burnt flesh, Gabriel rolled him over and patted him down. In the shirt pocket he found what he was looking for—a security tag.
He dragged the body back into the sentry box, then swiped the card. The computer hummed briefly but didn’t respond. He swore again, looked around some more, and saw the fingerprint scanner. He grabbed the guard’s right hand and slapped it against the reader. “Computer,” he repeated. “Disengage gate.”
“Gate disengaging. Twenty seconds before field is reengaged.”
He pocketed the security card, then headed through the gate. The farmhouse was as quiet as it had looked on the screen, and the closer he got to the old building, the more obvious it became that the house hadn’t been used in some time. The place smelled of neglect, dust and mildew. So why had Mary gone in there? And where had Kazdan gone? And the trucks?
He ducked past a window and walked quietly along the front porch, stopping near the door. Through the wire mesh he could see half a room. Faded daisy wallpaper hung in tattered strips from the walls, swaying gently in the breeze. Dust gathered in the corner, along with an old mousetrap, the bait long gone.
Yet the room wasn’t as empty as it looked. Someone breathed softly, a whisper sound barely distinguishable from the sigh of the wind. Like him, whoever made the sound was standing close to the door, close to the wall.
He waited, not moving. After several long minutes, the watcher muttered. Then soft steps crossed the wooden floors, and a chair squeaked. Stepping back, Gabriel raised the laser, sighting along the wall until he reached the approximate position of the squeaking chair. Then he fired. The acrid smell of smoke and burnt wood stung the air. After a moment, the smell of burnt flesh began to taint it as well.
He kicked the door open and rolled through, gun at the ready. No angry shots greeted
his arrival. The guard lay slumped over a com-unit, half his chest burned away.
Gabriel did a quick check of the rest of the room, noting only one other exit. He rose and walked across to the com-unit. This one also had print identification. Old-fashioned, but still reasonably effective in an outpost like this. He grabbed the dead man’s hand and pressed it against the screen. The door to his left clicked open, revealing the corridor he’d seen Mary disappearing down.
He approached it warily. The corridor was long and white, and it wound down several levels before flattening out. He stepped forward and peered over the handrail. No one below, either. Still, it was better to be safe than sorry. He kept his back to the wall as he moved down it.
The corridor made a sharp right at the bottom of the ramp. Halfway down were two doors, both closed. He eyed them, unable to ignore the uneasiness beginning to weight his gut. Something just didn’t feel right. It wasn’t like Kazdan to be so haphazard with his security.
He checked the laser’s charge—half full. Probably not enough to handle the trouble he sensed waiting ahead. Keeping the weapon at the ready, he moved forward. The sensor above the door to his right blinked to green as he neared, and a heartbeat later, the door silently opened. He stopped, body tense, ready to retreat or attack. The only sound he heard was the soft hum of the air-con. He dug the security card from his pocket and tossed it into the room. There was a quick whine, like that of a motor gearing to life, then a white flash. The card flamed briefly as the laser burned it, the ashes falling softly to the floor. Obviously, there were movement-sensing laser rifles inside, which meant that while it was definitely a room he should investigate, it was a no-go for now.
The other door was locked. He edged past it and continued on. The corridor curved to the left, and another door came into view. The sensor above the door flicked to green as he approached, and the door opened, revealing several long rows of coffins. Were these the people on Kazdan’s list, the ones who’d likely paid to become a vampire?
The uneasy sense that something was wrong was growing. It had been far too easy to get this far. Kazdan was up to something—or was he giving the man too much credit? Surely if Kazdan were aware of his presence, he would have stopped him before now. Still, despite the sense that he was walking into trouble, he really had only two choices—and retreat had never been an option he’d favored. But it would be foolhardy to take unnecessary chances.
He took off his boot and tossed it lightly into the room. If there were movement-sensing lasers inside, he’d soon know about it. There was no response, no reaction.
After taking a deep breath, he dove through the doorway, coming to his feet behind the first row of coffins, laser rifle primed and ready to fire. No white flash greeted his appearance. Inching upward, he swept the laser’s sight across the room. No one. Frowning, he grabbed his boot and put it back on before he glanced at the nearest coffin. Metal, not wood, which meant the coffin more than likely contained one of the newly turned. After checking the room a second time, and noting the exit across the far side of the room, he slowly opened the coffin.
The woman inside was little more than a teenager, with long blond hair, rich brown skin, and a build that could only be described as voluptuous. Why would Kazdan be recruiting people like this? Sure, the girl was pretty, but the softness in her face suggested that she’d led a sheltered, easy life. How would someone like this help him start—or maintain—a war? Wouldn’t it make more sense to recruit people he could use as bullet fodder? Even then, being among the newly turned, his creations would be next to useless for at least a few months. While there were some who—like Kazdan—learned to cope with all that becoming a vampire involved in a relatively short amount of time, most could not. Indeed, the onslaught of so many new sensations and abilities were often a fast track to madness for the freshly turned vampire.
He lifted the woman’s hand and felt her wrist for a pulse. After several minutes, he found it. A single beat, unsteady, weak, but nevertheless there. The girl was still turning. It would be another day or so before the unsteady beat settled into its regular pattern of one beat every three minutes, and only then would she wake. Was this girl one of the names on the list? What price had she paid to join the ranks of the undead? And why?
He turned and looked at the other coffins. If he’d had the time, he would check them all, but time was the one thing he didn’t have. Still, one thing was clear. Kazdan was gathering an army, and it didn’t really matter if that army was filled with women as soft as the blonde. What mattered was how many more he’d created. But if Sethanon was as all-powerful as they’d presumed, why would he let a lieutenant build an army like this right under his nose?
Gabriel frowned and closed the coffin lid. The SIU would have to be called in to decontaminate the place. But first, he had to find Sam. And Kazdan. He hefted the rifle to a more comfortable position, then walked across to the next door. Again, the sensor opened it as he approached.
The room beyond was silent, but he had a bad feeling someone was in there, waiting. He dove through and rolled upright, rifle at the ready. And found himself staring into the barrel of a laser cannon.
“Don’t move, Gabriel dear, or I’ll blow your beautiful eyes through the back of your fucking head.”
VOICES BROKE THROUGH THE DARKNESS. Voices Sam knew, voices she was beginning to fear—for with them came the onslaught of more tests, more pain. Better by far to remain in the secure safety of dark unconsciousness. Yet something within her struggled through the layers of pain, struggled to hear and understand. Gradually, the words became clearer.
“You keep on with these tests, and you’ll kill her.” The speaker was a woman. The sultry tones were familiar, even if the worry that edged her words wasn’t.
“She is more than any of us had guessed. More than even Sethanon guessed. She is our key.”
Jack’s voice, cold and hard.
“And she will be no damn good to us dead!” Anger filled the woman’s voice. Visions of Stephan’s wife, Lyssa, swam through Sam’s mind. But if this woman was Lyssa, how did she know Jack? And why was she here—wherever here was—defending her? “Look at her, Jack, she’s barely alive. Look at the heart monitor.”
She could almost feel Jack’s scowl. “I only have two or three tests to go.”
“Two or three tests we don’t need. Unless, of course, it is your intention to kill her.”
“Why the sudden concern?” Jack’s voice held a mocking note. “I thought you couldn’t wait to get her out of my life.”
Sam frowned. Why would Lyssa want her out of Jack’s life? This was making no sense … Her thoughts stopped. There were two women called Lyssa. The one she’d rescued from Jack’s cell, and the shifter who’d taken the original’s place—Suzy. This was Suzy, of that Sam had no doubt.
But why would Suzy even attempt to help her, especially given the hostility she’d thrown Sam’s way over the years?
“That’s before I saw her in action myself. I owe her my life, Jack. If she hadn’t found that bomb Mary set, I’d be paste right now.”
Jack snorted. “Have you seen the stupid bitch?”
“No. Stern advised Stephan to separate us, and he tried to send me to some military compound.”
“Then maybe he suspected you.”
“Suspected his best friend’s wife? Not likely.”
“Stern’s no fool. You must have said or done something to raise his suspicions.”
“And maybe it was your precious little partner that made him suspicious. If she could sense the presence of the kites, why couldn’t she sense I’m not who I’m supposed to be?”
“None of the tests I’ve performed indicate that she should.”
They hadn’t? Then what the hell was he looking for? What had he found, if not her growing ability to sense some nonhuman races?
“And yet she knew Mary was up to no good—something I wasn’t aware of even though I’d practically lived with the ungrateful witch for the la
st six months.”
“You never were the most observant person in the world, my love.”
Suzy snorted.
“I was observant enough to see Karl leave the mansion. It got you Sam’s com-unit.”
“But not observant enough to realize Martyn was watching you. It’s thanks to Mary you didn’t get caught. Half our current problems would be over if you’d simply poisoned Stephan when you were supposed to.”
“It’s not my fault it wasn’t working fast enough.”
“I told you to increase the dosage.”
“And I told you it was too damn dangerous.” She paused, and Sam could well imagine her tossing her long hair haughtily. “But he’s dead now, so it doesn’t matter.”
Stephan was dead? When did that happen? She remembered the anguish in Gabriel’s eyes when he’d learned that Hanrahan might have been caught in the SIU bombing. How would he cope with losing his brother and his friend? Not well, she suspected.
“No thanks to you,” Jack all but snarled.
“Damn it, look at the monitors. She’s weakening. If you want her help to overthrow Sethanon, you’re going to have to stop these tests right now.”
Jack cursed softly. “You’re right. I need to find Mary, anyway. She’s supposed to be here with the PM’s schedule. The boss will be peeved if I don’t confirm that in the next hour or two.”
The edge in his voice suggested Sethanon was someone you didn’t want angry at you. So why was Jack attempting a takeover? Surely that would piss off Sethanon a hell of a lot more than being late with a schedule …
“So the hit’s still going ahead?”
“What Sethanon wishes, Sethanon gets. At least until I’m completely ready to take over.”
Suzy sniffed. “The longer you wait, the more chance there is of discovery, especially with Stern nosing about.”
“Some things can’t be rushed, my love. Why don’t you find me someone to eat while I go make some phone calls?”