Hard Days Night (The Firsts Book 8) (30 page)

Mother Earth, how could this happen?  How could you let your children down so desperately?

It was a plea he’d used only one other time in all of his centuries, when Starla had chosen Jacob as her mate, when he thought he would never see his first blood children born, and when she
died
by Windari’s hand.

Nothing had meant more to him than to bring his children into this world, but she had cried with him and told him that she loved another.
  All had worked out in the end, because of artificial insemination, and a loving relationship between himself, Starla, and Starla’s mate, Jacob.

But this…
this could never work out
.  If Mal was truly dead, then he would never see her again, never make love to her, never make her smile.  Suddenly, the world seemed dimmer.  His chest hurt so badly, all he wanted to do was roll up into a ball and never come out of it.

He felt
Eillia’s hand on his forearm, an attempt to calm him, but it didn’t work this time.

“Ahmose, I’m so sorry, my friend.  It is apparent you cared a great deal for this woman.  Life’s not fair, is it?”

“I have to go to her. Even if she
is
dead, I need to go to her.  I have to know where she is.”

“I’ll see what I can find out, but, Ahmose, it’s unlikely.”

“I know.  Anything you can do, I appreciate it.  I’m going to look for that piece of sludge again, and if I find him, he’ll tell me or I’ll tear him apart.”

Eillia knew that Claude was gone.  He probably had a secret underground escape and was halfway to France by now.
   Once again, their attempt to stop these men met with failure.  Next time, no matter what happened, when she saw them, she would slice their throats instantly, no questions asked, no games, no pleas, no delay.  It was their humanity that kept making them fail.  But not the next time, this she knew.

Shaking her head, Eillia didn’t know what to do about this woman Ahmose wanted to get to.  She had no idea how to locate her.  Then it struck her, of course she did.

The man who’d taken her life, who was crying over her, who regretted his act.  She hurried back into the office and pulled the video feed back up.

He was still there, on the floor at the woman’s feet.

“Sir, please, will you tell me where you are?”

He looked up.

“Can you help her?  I can’t seem to help her.  She’s asking me and I can’t help her.”

Eillia sighed.  The guy was coming apart.

“You’re sure she’s dead?”

Cheeto pulled the woman’s shirt away to expose horrific holes torn through her body.

God,
Eillia thought,
she’s definitely dead
.

Behind her, Ahmose stood silently, his eyes locked on the image of the dead woman in the chair.

Cheeto nodded vehemently, and wiped his nose and eyes with his sleeve.  “Yeah.  I checked. A couple of times.  I shot her, point blank, three times in the chest.  She isn’t breathing at all.  I’m so sorry!”

He began to cry again.

“It’s okay.  At least now you are doing the right thing.  Where are you?”

After a few gulps and wiping his eyes again, he lifted his head and faced the computer.  He was trying to comp
ose himself.

“Uh, we’re, uh…  It’s the
Motortime Motel off of the West Side Freeway north of Bakersfield.  We’re in room…” He stood up and looked at the door, then back into the camera.  “Room 9. Please, could someone come and get her?”

“We will.  Thank you.  Can you do
me a favor and stay there with her until we get there?  We’re in England and it will take a little while.”

He nodded. 

“All right.  Thank you, uh, what is your name?”

“They call me Cheeto.  It’s my working name.”

“Cheeto.  Okay, we’ll see you tomorrow, yeah?”

“Okay.”

Well, then, at least Ahmose would get to say goodbye to her. 

Koen and Xavier caught up with Lamont in a hidden passage that led off into a deep basement.  This time, Koen had been ready, his eyes sharp for anything at all that might mean an escape route.  He’d spied the thin slice in the wallboard that he knew might mean a door panel, and he’d been right.
  Using Xavier tactics, Koen crashed through the panel with no regard for damage, and the two vampires raced through the dark tunnel until they found the man they sought.

Although
Lamont had been using his abilities, he wasn’t a vampire and he wasn’t first blood.

Now, with no weapons facing them, and no armies to attack
them, the two powerful vampires stared at the man who thought he was God.

Lamont stood tall, pulling his soiled white jacket down.  He was attempting a dignity that his situation did not support.  His chin was high and eyes clear as he spoke.

“I suppose you think killing me will stop your persecution.  It won’t.  There are many others who will come for you.”

“Not the way you have.  You’ve tortured and killed with no regard for life or the devastation you’ve caused.  You gave up any right you had to remain breathing years ago.  This is it, Lamont, the day you pay for your sins.  I hate this, I really do, but right now I am going to have to be the animal you paint our people to be.  Still, I’ll be merciful, because that is really what we are, not the murderous creatures this society will never prove we are.”

“You believe what isn’t true. I’ve left my funds to someone who will finish my work.  You won’t see him coming.”

“Fuck this.  I won’t be tricked into letting you live.  You’re finished, Lamont.”

“I will win in the end!  I will!  My family will never rest! Watch for Donovan! 
Donovan will succeed where I have
failed!
”   

Koen
shook his head.  “I’ve had enough of this.”  He took the knife that his brother handed him, rolled his eyes, and plunged it into Lamont’s throat.  The shock on Lamont’s face proved that he really hadn’t thought he would die this night.

Lamont gurgled, and tried to stand, but he fell forward, then to the ground.  The strangled sounds ended and the dark tunnel silenced.

Xavier toed Lamont’s foot.  “Should we behead him?  For good measure, just in case?”

Koen didn’t respond.  He crouched to make sure Lamont was well and truly dead, aware that the vampire blood he’d imbibed in quantity had certainly changed part of his physical makeup.  He stood back up and looked at Xavier.

“I think so.  Do it, would you, brother?”

Xavier was accustomed to heinous tasks, as he’d been part of nearly every major war
for many centuries.

“Aye, it’s past time.  Blood thief, I commit you to the afterlife, may yours be hot and dirty
, with no cake at all.”

Xavier lifted a sharp blade and brought it down to sever Lamont’s head from his neck.

Koen looked at Xavier.  “Cake?”

Xavier shrugged.   “Who doesn’t love cake?”

They walked away, winding their way slowly back through the tunnel, aware that a great victory had been achieved.   Lamont, their biggest enemy, had died easily when the time came, with no loss of life, and no impact on the world at all.

“This is how little men die.  He will leave no footprint on our world.  He was irrelevant, in the end.”

Koen watched Xavier as the path began to ascend.

“Aren’t we all?” he answered.

C
hapter 14

Cheeto had untied the rope and laid the lovely dead woman on the bed in the
dirty hotel room, pushing aside the remnants of the pizza he’d ordered for dinner. 

“There,” he’d said. “It’s more comfortable.  They’ll be here soon to get you.”

Cheeto knew he was losing it, but he really didn’t know why.  He’d never been sentimental and he was pretty sure he wasn’t now, but he’d cried over this girl, and the fact was, he hadn’t cried since he was five.

Yet after he touched her, he’d felt something, something deep, that weaved itself inside of him and he had been instantly remorseful.
  No matter what he did, he couldn’t shake the feeling.

What the fuck he was doing waiting for the vampires to come for her, he never would know, but he was doing it.

He pulled her shirt down, straightened it to hide her wounds and laid a light blanket over her, covering her face.

Maybe he should just leave.  Sitting here beside of a dead body was stupid, he knew that
, but he’d promised the woman on the phone, and he wasn’t sure he could leave yet.

The pizza had hit the spot and he crawled onto the bed beside his gunshot victim and turned the television on with the remote on the nightstand.

“Hey, look, an old Bonanza.  Man, I loved that show,” he said to her, looking down at her still body.  He lifted the blanket from her face and grinned down at her.  “That Little Joe just cracks me up, every time.”

Cheeto dropped the blanket back in place and leaned into the pillows he’d put behind him.  He was using
both, the girl didn’t need hers, did she?

He watched the entire episode of Bonanza, pleased when another started right afterward. 

“You thirsty?” he said suddenly.  “I need a beer.  How about you?”

He shook his head, laughing. 
“Not anymore, huh?  Don’t worry, I’ll drink yours for you.  I need some more of your cash.”   He’d used her money to pay for the pizza, her wallet open and lying on the dresser.  He’d gone through her bag and found nothing more interesting than clothes, although he’d taken her handgun and badge and tucked it into his jacket pocket.

“I’m going to get some beer, you sure I can’t get you anything?” 

Cheeto started to nudge her and then stopped.  Touching her, that had been when the overwhelming sorrow had struck him.  He pulled his hand back and reached for the keys to her car.

He was just
reaching to open the door when he heard the sound.

It was a gasp, a sudden intake of air,
then a moan.

He whirled and stared at the
unmoving body under the blanket.  Damn, he was twitchy tonight.  

“Just imagining things,” he murmured out loud and turned back to the door.

“Where am I?”

Cheeto fell back against the still-closed door. 
What the
hell was that?

“Who said that?” he blurted out, freaked
-out now.

The blanket began to move and
Cheeto’s blood froze.

As the body sat up, the blanket fell away and he pushed himself tighter
against the door.

He couldn’t help himself, he squeaked
, in shock, “You’re dead, I know you are.”

Her eyes opened and her head moved, then she looked at him.  She looked confused, closing her eyes, her tongue sliding out to moisten her lips
, then her eyes opened again, but she didn’t lift them.

With a painfully deep breath, she bent over, her hand to her belly, her eyes
moved to Cheeto.

“You shot me,” came out on a wheeze.

“I killed you,” Cheeto followed up, barely audible.

“What?”

“I said I…”

“I heard you,
you crazy fucking nut.  God, I hurt.  Why did you shoot me?”

“For the vampire.
  So we could keep him.  He’ll want you back.”

Mal’s
breath froze. 
He was looking for her? Could he know she was with child?

She tried to scoot off the bed and the pain wracked her body.  Bending over, she felt the pain in her chest and lower abdomen.

“My daughter…” she whispered, fear cutting into her heart, but then she felt an intense warmth infuse her and she knew the baby was okay.

Her eyes blew upward to pin
Cheeto’s.  “Help me get out of here and I’ll forget all about this.”

“Seriously?”

“Seriously.  The vampire, I need to be gone before he gets here.”

Cheeto began to nod his head.  This was good, this would clean his slate, give him absolution.

“He’ll be here tonight.  He’s coming from London.”

“Good.  He can’t be out during the daylight, so that gives me time to move. 
Oh, fuck!”

She couldn’t get out of bed on her own, it hurt too much.  Suddenly, she felt an arm around her waist and someone lifting her up.  Cheeto was there, supporting her.

“You’re still a piece of shit, you know that.”  Mal couldn’t help herself.

He smiled painfully and nodded.  “I always have been. My daddy told me I’d never amount to anything and I’ve spent my life living
down to his expectation of me.”