Lover's Bite (26 page)

“I don't know, sir.”

Underling number one, Jack thought. Interested, despite the intensity of his pain, he managed to lift his head. He tried to see the men, but his eyes were so swollen that only the merest slits remained open, and what he could make out through them was blurry and unfocused.

Three blobs, vaguely man-shaped. Movement now and then.

“What the hell do you
mean,
you don't know?”

“The bedroom door was smashed to bits. The electric barriers had shorted themselves out. The living room window was open.”

“And the guards posted outside saw nothing?
Heard
nothing?”

“They only heard the TV, they said.”

Magnarelli swore, and Jack thought it looked as if he turned a small circle and pushed a hand through his hair. At least, his arm went up. He might also have been waving a fly away or knocking down a cobweb.

“That window's too high. Even a vampire couldn't survive a jump like that.”

“They didn't.” The second underling was speaking now. The first seemed to have used up all his courage in bringing bad news to his boss.

Magnarelli spun around fast.

“The doorman says two women jumped to their deaths just before dawn. They were pronounced dead at the scene.”

“And taken where?” Magnarelli asked in a monotone.

“I don't know. A morgue somewhere, I imagine.”

Magnarelli gripped the underling by the front of his shirt and jerked him forward. “Find out, dammit. Get back there and find out where they were taken, and exactly what time, and whether they're still there now. Do you understand?”

“But…but…”

“Do it. Now.”

He released the younger agent, who stumbled a few steps backward.

Jack let his head relax again, feigning unconsciousness, though he didn't have to fake it much. He would have been unconscious right now if not for that damnable drug of Rhiannon's. Hell, he was like a walking corpse.

He started to laugh, because that was what he was anyway, right? Undead. A walking corpse.

“What the hell are you laughing at?” Magnarelli asked. One of his rookies remained there with him. The other one had already scurried away to do his master's bidding.

“My girl,” Jack said, though his mouth was swollen, lips puffy and split, and his voice sounded as if he were talking around a mouthful of marbles. “She outsmarted you.”

“Not if she's dead on a slab in the morgue, she didn't,” Magnarelli said. “And if that's the case, I'll be the one laughing. Believe me. I wouldn't be one bit sorry to see that pain-in-the-ass bitch dead and buried.”

Jack lunged forward, picking the chair up with him. Bent over, he charged the bastard, head plowing into his stomach before he knew what was coming. Magnarelli doubled over, then fell to the floor, and Jack spun around fast, so the legs of the chair would smash into his head.

But the agent ducked, then gripped one of the chair legs and swung it, so that Jack hit the wall face-first, chair and all. His cheek was razed by rough-surfaced bricks. His already broken nose mashed against them. He sank to the floor, the rush of pain incapacitating him. But rather than passing out, as he should have done, he just lay there, trembling in unbearable agony.

 

Reaper managed to wait until sundown, but just barely. He and Rhiannon were cranky and angry and impatient. He had the floor opened up before the others were even awake, and Briar, Crisa and Vixen were out of the compartment almost before Seth had stirred.

He opened the rear doors of the van, eager to get out, stretch his legs, move a bit and get a look at the
hacienda
where Jack was being tortured.

The others climbed out and surrounded him, Roxy and Ilyana coming around to the back, as well.

“What's the situation?” Seth asked.

Reaper pointed toward the sprawling white mansion. “Jack's being held in there by three agents. They've been torturing him for about two hours now.”

Vixen turned her head quickly, her hand flying to her mouth. Crisa clutched Briar's arm tighter, while Briar swore under her breath.

“How the hell did three mortals manage to get the best of him?” Briar asked. “Didn't the drug work? Was he asleep when they opened the bag?”

“They tranquilized him,” Rhiannon said softly, her eyes cast downward.

“I thought you said no one knew what kind of reaction the two drugs would cause when they were combined?” Vixen asked.

“No one does,” Rhiannon said. “Or rather, no one did. I imagine by now your Jack has a fairly decent idea.”

“Well? What the hell are we waiting for?” Briar demanded. “Let's go after him.”

“Topaz is on her way. She's asked that we send someone back for her mother, who's apparently in a weakened state and needed to stay behind.” Reaper looked at the group. “Roxy, I'd like you to take Crisa and Ilyana, and go back for her. Topaz says she needs sustenance. Badly.”

Roxy nodded. “We'd need the van for that.”

“I know. Unload the medical kit, a few pints of blood and most of the weapons before you leave. We'll need them. When you get back here with Mirabella, park somewhere safe, and we'll meet you there once this is over.”

“There's a dirt road off this one, a mile back. I'll head up there a few miles and pull off into a secluded spot.”

“We'll find you,” Reaper promised. “Mean-while—”

Something rushed past him in a blur. He caught the essence of fury, of rage—and of Topaz.

“Hell, she's not waiting. Let's go.
Now!
” Reaper ordered.

Briar, Seth and Vixen joined him in racing full bore toward the house.

 

Topaz leapt the gate, then raced up the drive and hit the
hacienda'
s huge double doors so hard that one of them split as they crashed open. She crouched just inside the door, looked left and right, sensed for Jack's essence and was speeding closer to him again, all in the space of a single heartbeat. Every door that blocked her way was demolished. Every piece of furniture that stood in her path was obliterated. She was a fury, and nothing was going to stop her.

When she reached the basement room and saw him, bound to a chair that lay cockeyed on the floor with two of its legs broken off, his face so swollen she wouldn't have recognized him if she couldn't feel him, she went still for no more than an instant.

But that instant was enough. She was jolted with enough electricity to put her on her knees. A stun gun.

One agent cuffed her hands behind her back, even as the second returned to his spot behind the door with that stun gun, awaiting the others, whose thundering feet were within Topaz's earshot even then. But not within earshot of the mortals. She thought wildly toward them,
Stop! Wait! It's a trap!

She sensed their retreat instantly and sighed in relief, then lifted her head as the agent grabbed her by her arms and plunked her down in a chair, applying shackles before she regained enough strength to fight him off.

“I should have known it was a trap. You didn't seal off the house the way you did the hotel room. You wanted me to hear Jack's pain. You knew I would come for him.”

“We wanted Reaper to come for him. We thought we'd left you safe and sound in our suite. What happened? You decide to check out early?”

“You're the one who's going to check out. Permanently.” She nodded at the stun gun. “What happened? You run out of tranquilizer darts?”

“Not at all. We just wanted you conscious for a while. Torture isn't very effective when the subject is unconscious.”

She shot a look at Jack. He was in anguish. “Doesn't look like it's very effective on conscious subjects, either, or you would already know everything you could possibly want to.”

“Oh, hell, he doesn't give a shit about his own suffering. But yours—I think that'll be a whole different matter.”

“Bring it on, bastard,” she said.

“No.”

Jack's voice was strained, weak. Her heart broke on hearing it. She could barely stand to look at him, to see him so badly beaten. And yet, even when she wasn't looking at him, she could feel his pain.

“Don't…hurt her. I'll tell you everything.”

“Like you were supposed to be doing all along, right, pal? Instead of feeding us useless crumbs? Now you see what you get when you try to double-cross the CIA.”

Reaper.
Topaz sent the message urgently.
We're in a basement room. One way in and out. Two men here. One is waiting just inside the door with a stun gun.

“Go throw the switch, activate the silent-zone around this room,” the lead agent ordered the other. “And turn on the electricity.”

The other walked to the far side of the room, toward a large metallic box, with several switches and levers attached.

They're about to activate that force field, Reaper,
Topaz thought rapidly.
We'll be unable to communicate soon. And they're electrifying the doors. If you touch them—

Got it. You should know that I knew what Jack was doing the whole time, Topaz. He was playing them, not us, to get information on your mother for you.

Topaz couldn't believe it. She gasped and then stared at Jack, and her heart broke for the pain he was in. The agent threw one switch, then another.

Why the hell didn't he tell me?
Topaz thought toward Reaper.

Nothing. Dead silence. Like speaking into an empty room. The subordinate agent returned to his position, and Topaz asked Jack,
Why didn't you tell me?

He met her eyes, though she doubted he could see her through the puffy purple grapes that were his own.
Didn't think you'd believe me. Didn't want to lose you.

He bent forward as far as he could, and started to cough and choke, not stopping until he threw up blood.

Topaz loved him with her entire being. She would have died just then, to give him the tiniest bit of relief. Lifting her head, she said, “Let Jack go. I'll tell you what you want if you'll just let him go.”

“Don't…bother,” Jack managed. He did his best to wipe his chin on his shirtfront. “I won't leave her.”

The head agent rolled his eyes. The underling had to avert his. “I'm not letting anyone go, and I don't have any sympathy for your star-crossed love story. Either Reaper turns himself in within the hour, or you both die. It's that simple.” He picked up a tranq gun from a table and handed it to his partner. “If they move, tranq them.” Then he eyed the two vampires once again. “Be aware, my friends, that the dosages in that gun are enough to kill you this time.” He focused on Jack. “And yes, it's been tested.”

“There will be no need for that,” Reaper said softly. His voice came from just beyond the closed, locked and electrified door to the room where they were being held. Mental voices wouldn't penetrate, but normal spoken words did.

“You've got me, Magnarelli. Let them go.”

The lead agent, the one Reaper had identified as Magnarelli, went warily to the door. “You'd better come in alone, Rivera. We've got our tranq guns loaded with enough of that shit to kill the strongest vampire known. And we
will
use it—on these two if you pull anything, and on anyone else who tries to enter with you.”

“Understood,” Reaper replied.

Magnarelli nodded to his cohort. Topaz noticed it was the one she'd thought had some semblance of a conscience, the one with the deep blue eyes. “Cut the power,” Magnarelli told him. “Be ready to turn it right back on the second I tell you.”

Blue Eyes returned to the breaker box and lowered a lever. Magnarelli watched him, and as soon as it was done, he unlocked and opened the door, glancing past Reaper nervously before ushering him quickly inside and slamming the door closed behind him. “Reactivate the power,” he ordered.

The other one threw the switch again.

“Now get over here and cuff him!” Magnarelli shouted. As the younger one rushed to obey, Reaper turned, obedient and nonthreatening. He put his hands behind him and allowed himself to be handcuffed.

“These cuffs are not vampire tested,” Magnarelli said. “They won't hold you.”

“You think?” Reaper asked.

“I know. But if you try to break free, we'll kill your friends. And we have a contingent of agents, heavily armed, highly trained, on their way here to transport you back to the States. There won't be any more of your nonsense,
Reaper.
”

“I wasn't planning any,” he said, and he took a seat, as if he planned to sit there calmly for however long it took to await his transportation home. “Why don't you just tranquilize me now so you can quit worrying about what I might do?”