Kissed by Moonlight (5 page)

I noticed movement on the other side of the Humvee. A second guard, also in black, approached the vehicle, his gun pointed straight at my head. Freaking fantastic.

The first guard was silent as he looked over Trevor's credentials and my passport. He gave me a hard look, then asked Trevor, "Who is she?"

"Hunter."

The guard nodded, handed back our paperwork, and then spoke quietly into the mic of one of those earpiece things you see special agents wearing on TV. Whatever he heard back must have been good. He signaled to the second guard. The two of them stepped away from the car, and the gate began to slide back with a great deal of shaking and squeaking. Once it was open fully, the first guard waved us through.

We passed through the gate and continued up the rough gravel road, the car kicking up a cloud of dust behind us. I was trying really hard to focus on the task at hand. Figuring out the inner workings of a crazy person's brain was enough to drive me loony, but it was better than dwelling on something over which I had zero control. Drago had said all we could do was wait. The question was, did I have enough time?

The past few weeks had passed in one long stretch of tension. So far, the Fairy Queen hadn't declared war on the djinn. In fact, she hadn't made an appearance of any kind, but I was worried it was only a matter of time. She was not the sort to let things go so easily. Yes, the Marid had killed Alberich to avenge Zip. Yes, Alberich had been nuts, not to mention evil. He'd tried to kill me multiple times. Yes, the Queen had basically manipulated me into a situation where her brother was sure to get killed. Still, the sidhe were a law unto themselves, and I doubted the Queen saw it quite as logically as I did, especially after what she'd done to Inigo. I seriously doubted she would be satisfied taking the life of a half-dragon. Especially if Drago could bring him back. Worse, I was pretty sure I now owed her another favor for getting her brother killed, even if that was what she'd wanted in the first place. Shit.

She wasn't taking my calls. Even using her true name didn't work. Not a good sign. Probably, she knew how pissed I was, though "pissed" seemed too small a word. Not that my feelings, nor those of any human, concerned her overmuch. What really made me angry was there was nothing I could do to her. She was far beyond the touch of even my powers.

On top of that, we still didn't know who'd ordered the hit on me, or why. It certainly hadn't been Alberich, as I'd originally believed. Frankly, he wouldn't have thought me worth the time, and the website with the hit advertisement was still active, complete with a lovely new photo of me outside the motel in Madras where the body of a Supernatural Regulatory agent had been found after Alberich had him murdered. I couldn't figure out who had taken that photo. There hadn't been anyone in the parking lot except for Inigo, my brother, and me. There hadn't been any further attacks, either, but I figured it was only a matter of time before somebody decided to take a run at the bounty.

The good news was the junkie kid, Mikey, who had helped us solve the agent's murder, had kept his promise and called the counselor on the card I'd given him. She didn't handle such cases, but she'd sent him to a facility that did. By all accounts, he was doing well in recovery. He'd even cut his hair and changed his name to Mick. A new name for a new start. There was hope for him yet.

Which brought me full circle back to Inigo, because I wasn't sure there was hope there. Drago had done everything he could, but it could be years, even decades. If ever. It was the "ever" part that bothered me.

Trevor pulled up to a second checkpoint. There was no fence and no gate, just a guard shack hardly bigger than an outhouse. There was only one guard with a handgun, but I had the oddest feeling we were being watched from somewhere out on the desert. Trevor handed over his government ID and my passport once again, and we went through another round of "who is she" followed by more chatting via earpiece. The young guard waved us through.

We drove a short way up the gently sloping road. As we topped the rise, I saw grim concrete buildings laid out in a neat grid below us. Men and women in various military uniforms scurried to and fro on foot or in little golf carts.

I quickly shoved thoughts of Inigo to the back burner. There would be enough time for that later. Too much time.

"Welcome to Area 51." Trevor flashed me a grin.

"I can't believe I'm actually here." It was a little disappointing, to be honest. I'd imagined... I don't know what. Alien spaceships, maybe? Guards with ray guns and jet packs? "It's all so... normal." Or as normal as a military base ever got.

"What did you expect? Little green men?" Trevor laughed.

"Oh, excuse me. It's okay to believe in demons and vampires, but not aliens?"

"We've got enough crazy on Earth without worrying about crazies from other planets."

He made an excellent point. Still, I couldn't help but wish for more. I wasn't an
Ancient Aliens
fan for nothing.

As we pulled onto the base, a jeep zipped out from behind one of the large concrete buildings. The man driving was dressed in military fatigues. He gave us a wave, motioning Trevor to follow him.

About an hour later, we were finally sitting across from the reason we were there: Jade Vincent, former dragon hunter and full-time crazy person. Also, Alister Jones's "goddaughter" and secret weapon. And she wanted to talk.

Orange wasn't her color. Or maybe it was the lighting. She looked washed out and sallow, skinnier than I remembered. Her hair was still the same defiantly spiky, platinum blonde. Apparently Area 51 provided the inmates with the services of a hairdresser.

"Okay, Dara. We're here." Dara Boyd was Jade's real name. I hoped it would remind her who she was before she became a hunter: the girl who'd lived in a little flat in London with her girlfriend. A girl who'd been like any other girl before Alister Jones sank his twisted claws into her.

She didn't move so much as a muscle.

I sighed. "You wanted to speak to me. Speak."

"My name," she said, grating out each word, "is Jade. And I have something for you."

I blinked. "For me?"

She took a crumpled envelope from inside her jumpsuit and slid it across the table. The expression on her face could only be described as mocking. It gave me the heebie-jeebies.

I glanced down at the envelope, and my heart skipped a beat. I recognized the crest. It was that of the Jones family. I'd seen it in Alister's office in England. Inigo had a smaller copy in his living room, as did Kabita.

"How did you get this?"

She ignored me. Instead she crossed her arms over her chest and leaned back in her chair, the chains around her slender wrists clanking against the metal table. I knew without a doubt she wasn't going to answer me or anyone else. She'd done what she came for, and she wouldn't say another word.

Trevor nodded to the guards, who grabbed Jade and hauled her back down the hall, presumably to her cage or wherever they kept homicidal maniacs with hunter abilities. Frankly, I hoped she'd rot there. After what she'd done to Inigo, and the innocent lives she'd taken, she deserved no less.

"What's in the envelope?" Trevor asked.

I stared down at the thing lying on the table like it might bite me. Just looking at it gave me a bad feeling. I really, really did not want to open it.

Slowly, I lifted the flap and pulled out a piece of vellum. Rich. Expensive. Scrawled across the creamy sheet was a single line of unfamiliar handwriting:

Tick tock, little Hunter.

Chapter 7

We were halfway out the door, headed for the car, when the alarm sounded. The shrieking cacophony echoed off the cinderblock walls. The assault on my sensitive ears made me cringe as armed guards poured out of doorways and charged this way and that looking stern and purposeful. The door to the parking lot literally slammed shut in my face.

"What the hell?" I flattened myself against the wall as a group of soldiers charged past, weapons drawn.

"Lockdown. There's been an escape." Trevor's expression was grim as he grabbed my arm and pulled me away from the exit.

The timing was too perfect to be coincidental. We'd shown up, met with Jade, received a cryptic note and a splash of attitude, and then someone escaped? It didn't take a genius to figure that one out. And since Alister Jones hadn't been caught yet, that left only one other person insane enough and connected enough to pick this exact moment to escape. In fact, I'd bet a dozen chocolate donuts on it.

Trevor pulled me around the corner and into the guard booth overlooking the one entrance to the building. The door of the booth slammed behind us, cutting off the noise and chaos. Inside the booth it was quiet; a small, flashing red light the only warning. I breathed a sigh of relief.

"Commander, what's the status?" Trevor asked one of the two men hunched over the bank of monitors flickering with images of the compound.

The older of the two men wheeled around. There was a sheen of sweat on his upper lip and across his bald head. Clearly, he wasn't having a good day. "Agent Daly. I'm afraid I have some news your agency isn't going to like."

"Which one?"

The commander's expression was grim. "Prisoner X756."

Trevor closed his eyes and pinched the bridge of his nose. "Damn." He sounded resigned and not terribly surprised.

"Who's prisoner X756?" I asked, glancing from my brother to the commander and back again. I was pretty sure I already knew the answer.

It was the commander who finally spoke. "Brent Darroch."

***

To say the escape of Brent Darroch was a bad thing would be an understatement of epic proportions. Not only was the man a descendent of Atlantis, like I was (he'd almost killed me once because of it), he had a score to settle. I was the one who'd captured him, with a little help from my friends. Trevor was the one who'd put him behind bars.

Even worse? I'd taken the Heart of Atlantis from him. As far as he was concerned, that was an unforgivable sin. Never mind that I was the Key and as such, the Heart and its power belonged only to me.

Basically, Trevor and I now had great big bull's-eyes on our backs. Not exactly a comfortable feeling.

"How did he escape?" Trevor snapped, going into full-blown secret agent mode.

"We don't know," the commander replied grimly. "But believe me, I plan to find out." From his tone, I had no doubt heads would roll.

Trevor was with the SRA, the Supernatural Regulatory Agency, and as such outranked every civilian in the joint. I had no idea what protocol applied when military personnel were involved, but it was clear the commander was willing to keep him in the loop, if not outright defer to him.

I desperately wanted to start asking questions. Like, was Brent Darroch connected to Dara/Jade, and if so, how? Had either of them had any recent visitors? And how the hell could they allow a dangerous criminal to escape Area 51, of all places? But I was just a guest here. This was Trevor's show. It went against my nature, but I bit my tongue.

"Show me his cell."

The commander nodded. "I'll have someone take you." He barked an order into the mic of his earpiece, and then turned his attention back to the guy at the controls, completely ignoring us. I couldn't say I blamed him. Finding the prisoner took priority over anything else.

A couple minutes later, there was a knock at the door, and a soldier poked his head inside the booth. He didn't look a day over eighteen. His hazel eyes were wide and excited, and there was a flush riding high on his freckled cheekbones. At a guess, I'd say this was the first "action" he'd seen since boot camp.

"Reporting for duty, sir." There was a definite eagerness to his tone which both amused and worried me.

"Roberts. Good. Show these agents the cell where we kept Prisoner X756." The commander barely glanced up from the flickering screen.

"Yes, sir," Roberts barked, snapping off a salute his commander didn't see or acknowledge. "Agents, if you will follow me?"

I hurried to keep up with the men's longer strides as Roberts led us to a bank of elevators. The steel doors had been painted a bland gray, no doubt in order to blend with the unpainted concrete walls. Everything looked the same; a person could get lost around here.

Roberts waved us into the elevator and pushed a button. The doors slid shut, and the car began its smooth descent. There were no numbers to indicate which floors we were passing. I took a deep breath, trying to focus on anything but the layers of rock looming above us ready to fall on our heads at any moment.

"How deep are we going?" I asked the young soldier.

Roberts smiled at me, hazel eyes crinkling at the corners. "Deep."

The car came to a stop, and the doors slid open. I took in everything around me as we stepped out of the elevator. Beyond the shriek of the alarm, I couldn't hear much but the thud of boots and the shouts of soldiers as they ran through the base searching for the prisoner. That was the downside of super hearing; one loud sound had a tendency to overwhelm everything else.

My other senses, however, were still intact. On this level, everything had been painted white. Walls, floor, and ceiling all the same painfully bright white that made me want to pull out my sunglasses. The elevator bank had been left its natural steel color, polished to a high sheen. It was like something out of a '80s sci-fi movie.

Roberts stopped before another gleaming steel door. It had no knob or handle, only a biometric pad on the wall next to it. Roberts placed his palm flat against the pad and waited. A few seconds later, the door slid open, and he waved us through.

The room beyond wasn't what I expected. In fact, it wasn't a room at all, but more like an airlock. It was tiny, barely big enough for the three of us, and one wall was lined with small lockers. Opposite the door we'd just come through was a second door with a tiny portal window in it. I couldn't see what was beyond. The door behind us slid shut, cutting off the shriek of the alarm.

"Normally, you'd have to take off all your jewelry, belts, and whatnot, but since the cell is empty... " Roberts shrugged as if to say he didn't see the point. Thank gods, he wasn't one of those stickler-for-rules types.