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Authors: V.K. Forrest

Ravenous (7 page)

BOOK: Ravenous
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Chapter 7
L
iam stuffed his hands into his jeans pockets as he walked down the sidewalk midday on Friday. The rain had stopped around two in the morning. He’d awakened around then, breathing hard, covered in sweat. Despite the bright sun shining on his face, he felt chilled, even now, as he remembered the dream. Or maybe relived the moment. After a while, it was all the same.
That night in Paris, he’d fluttered on the wings of a raven between the bars, through the open window, into an outer hallway of the Gaudet
palais
. With no one in sight, he had returned to his human form. His mind worked at its best, at his quickest, when he was human. His human thought processes were still accessible when he was an animal, but he also had to deal with all the instincts, fears, and desires of that animal, which made situations more complicated. He needed no complications that night.
The tiled hall had been stacked with boxes, confirming his intelligence reports from spies, hired by the sept, to infiltrate the suspects’ home, business, lives. The Gaudet brothers were
going out of town,
which was the reason he’d decided to pay a visit tonight, without sept final approval for the kill. He understood the need for bureaucracy, even among vampires, but sometimes the wheels of bureaucracy turned too damned slow, which was exactly how these men had avoided arrest and prosecution by the authorities all these years. If he let another day go by, Liam was afraid the murdering pedophiles would slip out of his hands and into hiding. The downside of going in without the sept’s blessing, besides risking being tossed off the Kill Team, was the danger of having to go in alone. But he refused to put his fellow team members at risk of being punished alongside him. It was kind of the definition of going rogue, wasn’t it?
But alone in the hall that night, he’d had second thoughts. What if something went wrong? What if he was able to capture only one brother and not the other? Surely they had a plan for a breach of security on the scale he was about to create; he had known these kinds of men long enough to know there were always backup plans.
The children would be slaughtered.
Witnesses were never a good idea. Especially victims of sexual abuse. Which meant Liam couldn’t fail.
It was at that point, as he crept down the hall in the darkness, that his anger had begun to build. There was never room for anger in the workplace, but with his job, it was crucial that he remain emotionally removed. If Liam had any regrets about what he did that night—which he kept telling himself he didn’t—but if he
did,
that’s where they began.
He remembered tightening his jaw. His fists. He could feel his blood pumping, throbbing in his veins. Heat in his face. All those innocent kids, dead or damaged for the rest of their lives.
When he came around the corner and unexpectedly met a guard, Liam sprang without hesitation. The guy drew a pistol, equipped with a silencer, from his waistband. Apparently the Gaudet brothers were always respectful of their neighbors.
The guard, a big, burly guy with a ridiculous Hitler mustache, was quick enough. But there weren’t many of God’s creatures quicker than an enraged vampire. The rule was self-defense, but no needless killing. When Liam flew into him, he’d fully intended to follow the rule. He knocked the pistol out of the brute’s hand and sank his teeth into his fat neck.
The moment the blood rushed into his mouth, Liam tasted the foulness of it.
The children
. He tasted the children on his lips and it almost made him vomit. He’d have rather drunk sewer water. Apparently a perk of working for pedophiles was that you got your own opportunities.
Guilty. A sin punishable by death.
Too disgusted to drink enough blood to kill him, Liam pulled out his knife and cut the bastard’s carotid artery. As he shoved him backward, he saw the fear in the guy’s eyes and he was glad he had frightened him. He was glad his last earthly emotion would be terror. He was glad he was the one who had sent the Frenchman straight to the gates of hell.
Up to that point, the dream had been an accurate account of what had happened that night, but then he’d heard the screams and the blood had begun to ooze from the stone walls.
In truth, the screams hadn’t come until later.
“Liam?”
He looked up, startled for a second. He didn’t remember walking up her sidewalk or ringing the doorbell. “Peigi.”
“I was around back raking leaves. Didn’t you hear me? I hollered for you to come around.” She pushed open the screen door. She lived in a pretty turn-of-the-century cottage painted a light turquoise, just one block off the beach. “You mind if I rake while we talk?”
“No. Not at all.”
As they walked through the bright, cheerful house decorated in white wicker, yellow chintz, and Georgia O’Keeffe floral prints, he heard the distinctive sound of a video game coming from down the hall.
He glanced in the direction of the sounds of machine-gun fire and hand-grenade explosions. “You play a lot of ‘Call of Duty,’ Peigi?”
She wrinkled her nose. She was a small, stout woman with gray hair. Her haircut was a sensible short style, her clothing equally sensible. She had always looked to him as if she’d stepped off the pages of an L.L. Bean catalog. Apparently, an L.L. Bean gal who liked the blatant sexuality of Georgia O’Keeffe’s work. “It’s Brian.”
Liam lifted his brow. Last time he had seen Brian, Brian had been a seventy-something male L.L. Bean model. Not exactly the PlayStation 3 “Call of Duty” sort of guy.
“You ever read your e-mail?”
He didn’t answer.
“If you did, you’d know more of what was going on around here.” She continued through the open, airy kitchen into a screened-in porch. “Brian was reborn last month.” She pushed the door open, stepping down into the yard.
Liam followed. Peigi, the current leader of the General Council, always made him a little uneasy. She didn’t seem to get that he was a killer by nature and that she ought to be afraid of him, or at the very least, cautious. Whenever he was around Peigi, she kind of made him feel like he was still an awkward fourteen-year-old.
“Sorry to hear that.”
“So is he. He doesn’t want to go to school. He wants to eat pizza, sleep half the day, and play video games.” She grabbed a rake and tossed it to Liam. She was fast for an AARP card carrier with a bit of a beer belly.
Liam caught it.
“Into that pile,” she instructed.
He did as he was told.
“Brian knows he has to go to school, but I may let it go until after winter break and then enroll him. My
nephew
.” She rolled her eyes.
Sept members remained married to the partners they had at the time they were cursed by God in fifth-century Ireland. Any adult had the right to have sex with any other consenting vampire, but to keep life as simple as possible, one was expected to live with his or her spouse for eternity. Or until their situation on Earth changed. For couples like Kaleigh and Rob who were close in age, it wasn’t really a problem. They died and were reborn within a couple of years of each other, but for Peigi and Brian, it was a little harder. Brian had been more than ten years her senior when they had been transformed into vampires, so while he had just been reborn as a teen, Peigi might not die and be reborn as a teen for years. It made for awkward situations, but like other couples, Peigi and Brian adjusted. That didn’t mean they had to like it.
“He’s got an attitude right now, that one.” Peigi yanked her rake through loose leaves with a vengeance. “He won’t listen to a thing I say. He leaves dishes in the sink. The toilet seat up. All he does is whine: It’s not
fair
. It’s not
right
.” She frowned. “You know the drill.”
He raked leaves into the massive pile she’d made in the center of the yard. “I seem to recall saying the same thing to my mother not too, too many years ago.”
“You’re another one.” She pointed at him with her rake. “A handful.” She smiled. “But you make good men when you grow up.” She began to rake again, pulling leaves from a flower bed. “Oh, before I forget, can I borrow your Montclair?”
“Sure. Of course.” Liam owned a 1957 light blue Mercury Montclair convertible. It was a sweet ride. He kept it in a storage unit in Lewes. “What for?”
“Halloween parade.” She rolled her eyes as she raked. “My turn to be the Queen of the Crypt. I
won
the honor when I lost at poker the other night with the ladies.”
He chuckled. “Fiona Hill?”
Peigi nodded tragically. “Damned fine poker player, that witch.” She glanced up at him. “So how are you, Liam? Honestly.”
“Is this an official interview?”
“Nope. Just the friendly neighborhood old lady asking the young man who’s just returned home how he’s doing.”
He cut his eyes at her. “Right.” He went back to raking. “I’m good. Fine. Terrific. Couldn’t be better.”
“Glad to be back in Clare Point?”
He chose his words carefully. “It’s nice to see people.”
“You need to visit. Reconnect. I know it’s hard for those of you
on the road
.” She made it sound like he was a traveling salesman.
“I ran into Kaleigh. She’s becoming quite the young woman.”
“She always does.” Peigi glanced at him. “But not just Kaleigh. Not just those you’re close with. You need to reconnect with all of us, Liam. Otherwise, you forget who you are. Why you do what you do.”
“I never forget,” he said quietly, thankful for the rake in his hand and a job to do. He didn’t want to look her in the eye. In some ways, Peigi was more like his mother than his mother was. For Mary McCathal, Liam could do no wrong. Peigi saw him as more . . . fallible. “You talk with your brother?” she asked.
“I was going to give him a call.”
“He may be appointed to the state Supreme Court.”
Liam’s older brother, John, had made the decision to be put up for adoption in this life cycle so that he could separate himself from Clare Point. It wasn’t something the sept allowed often, but it was done occasionally. John had been adopted by a clueless couple, with the help of sept lawyers in Maryland. He had become an attorney, and then a judge. Vampires in high places . . .
“I don’t like to bother him. I know he needs to remain apart from us.”
“That doesn’t mean you can’t have lunch with him. How about your mother? You speak with her?”
“I have.”
“She come to her senses yet?”
He gave a shake of his head. “Not to my knowledge.”
“Victor, of all people,” she scoffed. “I never saw that one coming.”
“Victor probably didn’t either.” He chuckled to himself. “So anyone go looking for them? She wouldn’t say a word to me as to where she was, but everyone is saying they think they’re somewhere in Florida.”
“The Council talked about sending someone to retrieve them, but they decided to leave them a few months and let them get it out of their system. They’ll come home. Our runaways always do.”
Liam raked for a couple minutes in silence. “So, this investigation,” he said, thinking it was time he got on with what he’d come for.
“Uh-huh?”
“The Council started it?”
“We’re looking into the matter.”
“That’s not the same thing as launching an investigation,” he observed. “And no one’s called about interviewing me. No one’s even asked me my side since the initial interrogation.”
“Quit being so dramatic, Liam. You weren’t
interrogated
and you know it.” She set aside her rake, seeming pleased with the size of the pile of leaves she’d made. It was taller than she was. “You know the process is necessary.”
“Yeah, I know.” He leaned on the rake. “So when do we get started? I have no doubt that when the Council hears my explanation, I’ll be exonerated.”
“Meaning that you
didn’t
kill the Gaudet brothers
without
High Council’s say-so
after
you were given the order to
stand down?
”
He exhaled. “It was complicated, Peigi. In the field, situations change; decisions have to be made instantaneously. You know that. You’ve done what I do.”
“Step back.” Peigi waved him away from the leaf pile.
“What are you—” Before Liam could get the words out of his mouth, the enormous pile of leaves spontaneously combusted, exploding in a flash of bright light and intense heat.
“Damn, Peigi.” He threw up his arms to shield himself from the blast as flames shot above the roofline of the porch. “You could have warned me.”
Peigi was pyrokinetic. Apparently, she didn’t get to use her gift as often as she liked. They were expected to take care with their gifts, always concealing them from humans, but no one would say anything to her about lighting a bonfire in the privacy of her own fenced-in backyard. Even a twenty-foot-high bonfire.
She stood back, hands on her hips, and watched with obvious satisfaction. “You want to put the rakes in the shed on your way out?” she said.
BOOK: Ravenous
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ads

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