Reckoning: A Fallen Siren Novel (19 page)

Zack has been on the phone with Simon ever since he returned from dropping Owen a few blocks from Craig’s apartment.

“Testing. Testing. One. Two. Three.”

Suddenly, I can hear him through the earpiece I’m wearing.

“You’re coming across loud and clear,” says Simon. “Emma?”

“Yes?”

“Say something. How about:
Kallistos is nothing more than a plaything to me, Simon. It’s you I really want.
Do it in a low, breathy voice,” he says.

“I can hear you,” replies Kallistos, his tone a blend of amusement and annoyance.

Simon claps his hands and then drums on the table. “Well, all righty, then. Nonmystical communications are up and functioning. What about the connection between you and Owen?”

Kallistos, who’s sitting at Liz’s dining room table, has traded in his suit for a pair of black jeans, a long-sleeved
black shirt, and a leather jacket. “He’s in the apartment. He’s anxious and wondering if maybe he should wait outside instead.”

“I think that’s fine,” I tell him. “Let’s do what we can to help him manage his anxiety.

Kallistos nods.

My earpiece goes silent. Simon and Zack exchange a few more words over the phone; then Zack hangs up. He’s commandeered the large flat-screen on the living room wall and has his computer hooked up to it. A map of downtown San Diego is displayed with a bright red blinking dot over Craig’s apartment building.

“You put tracking on him before dropping him off?” I ask.

Zack shakes his head. “No. I thought that would be too risky. If I were Lamont, I’d have all of the bidders screened and blindfolded. I prepared Owen for that, blindfolded him and practiced on the way over to Craig’s. He’s a natural. Kallistos just has to relate what Owen is experiencing.”

Liz places a tray of sandwiches on the table. Next to them are half a dozen bags of blood and a pitcher of iced tea. “I don’t understand. If he’s blindfolded, what will he be able to relate?” she asks.

Zack selects a ham and cheese. “Turns, stops, variations in speed. It won’t be exact, but it will be close. You and Rose will be able to watch from here. We have another monitor in the van.” He takes a bite of the sandwich and pours himself a glass of tea.

I’m too nervous to eat. I check the time on my cell. “Shouldn’t the van be here by now?”

Zack puts down his sandwich and walks over to me. “He’ll be here. Malcolm’s a pro. Come here.” He circles around me, lifts up the side of my sweater.

Kallistos watches, his eyes dark and dangerous.

Zack continues as if he is unaware of Kallistos’ glare. “I want to tighten this strap.”

He does. The sweater drops back into place over the vest. “That’s better.” He pulls what looks like a custom-made tactical double-draw shoulder holster from the bottom of the bag and holds it out to me like he would a jacket. “Slip this on. I’ll help you adjust it.” It crosses comfortably in back. Another strap snaps around my torso, keeping the weapons securely in place.

Zack hands me his Glock. “I’ll have enough with my rifle.”

“Thanks.” I slip his gun into the left holster. Mine I slip into the right.

“No problem.”

Zack takes another bite of his sandwich. He doesn’t look at Kallistos, but he gives me a surreptitious wink. He’s wearing a black T-shirt and cargo pants. Between bites of the ham and cheese he slips on his own vest and checks his weapon once again. His phone chimes. He glances at it. “Showtime.”

*   *   *

Zack, Kallistos, and I are sitting in the back of an unmarked white panel van that’s decked out with the latest in high-tech surveillance equipment. Malcolm is driving, the man who delivered my early Christmas present. He’s yet to say a word. He’s yet to look at us. He’s focused on the road, on following orders, on otherwise being invisible—the perfect soldier. We’ve just
pulled onto the 163 and are heading north. The space seems unbearably small. Zack is positioned in front of a console that contains a monitor. Kallistos is standing behind him, looking over his shoulder. The expression on his face is intent.

“They’re curving to the right,” he says.

Zack taps the screen. “They’re going east on Highway 8. Have him tell you when he notices a change of speed and whether he can sense the direction.”

Kallistos nods.

It’s strange, watching Zack and Kallistos work together like this.

Seconds stretch into minutes.

“You were right about the mask. Right to prepare him,” Kallistos says. Giving Zack the deserved compliment seems to cost him something.

“We could be in for a long drive,” I say.

But Kallistos shakes his head. “No, they are slowing down. Owen thinks it’s an exit, but he can’t tell if they are going left or right. Feels like they’re going straight. Maybe traffic just slowed down?”

“My bet is they took the Fairmont exit. It runs parallel to the highway. Let’s see if he comes to a stop.” Zack touches his earpiece. “Simon, can you start to pull up all of the nearby properties that contain hallowed ground?”

Kallistos holds up a hand. “Wait. He’s come to a stop. They’re turning left. I know where they’re going.” He pauses, takes a seat, points to a spot on the map. “The Mission Basilica San Diego de Alcala.”

“How can you be sure?” Zack asks.

Before Kallistos can answer, Simon’s voice echoes in our earpieces. “Yep. That’s a good guess. It’s the biggest
piece of hallowed ground in the area and Kallistos knows it well.”

Zack and I both turn to Kallistos. “Lamont must have heard about the tunnel system. He’s using it to store the girls, avoid detection.”

“A tunnel system?” I ask. “Under the mission?”

Kallistos nods. “The knowledge has been lost to most, but there’s a network of tunnels underneath the church grounds. They were built after a night raid by the local Indians in 1775. Father Palou put me in charge of the planning. I know them like the back of my hand. Although it’s been many decades since I’ve used them for anything.”

I don’t know who is the more surprised—Zack or me. “A priest put a vampire in charge of protecting the mission?” Zack finally asks.

Kallistos waves him off. “Long story.”

One I’ll have to remember to ask about.

“Point is, it’s the perfect place to hide. Originally we built one entrance within the mission and an exit about a thousand feet away.” Kallistos points to a spot on the map that looks to be deep in a nearby canyon. “The mission has since been rebuilt. The original access to the tunnels, here, in the canyon, was closed off.”

Simon has been monitoring our conversation. Architectural drawings, photos of the mission’s interior and exterior, and the most recent surveying plans are now popping up on the computer screen.

“So the entry point is gone?” Zack asks.

Kallistos shakes his head. “No. I built another. I used the tunnels during Prohibition, to stash booze. It’s blocked by a sizable rock. Between the two of us, we
should be able to move it. Perhaps I could now do it by myself. It’s been many years. In any case, the entry is about two hundred and fifty feet from the circle.”

“The circle?” I ask.

We’ve exited the highway, turned left onto Fairmont, and are now on Mission Road. Kallistos points to an apartment complex on the left. “Pull into that lot,” he tells Malcolm. “We can go the rest of the way on foot.” Then he turns to me. “The tunnels were built to be a fail-safe. A place the mission inhabitants could take refuge should another raid occur. Food and water were stored there. Midway between the mission and the exit, we carved out a half dozen or so rooms that opened onto a central circular space. My bet is they’re holding the girls in one or more of those rooms.”

We come to a stop. Kallistos wastes no time opening the door to the van. He jumps to the ground.

Zack follows.

Malcolm douses the van’s lights. It’s pitch-black. It’s a waxing crescent moon and high, thin clouds dot the sky. I slip the night-vision goggles on. I don’t have the biological advantage that Kallistos and Zack both have.

“You lead,” Zack says to Kallistos. “Emma can follow. I’ll take the rear.”

Kallistos grows still. He holds up his hand. “Owen’s mask has been removed. He is, as I suspected, in the circle. They’ve erected a staging area on one side that’s about six feet above the ground. A long, narrow table has been set up. Seating for ten. White tablecloths, crystal glasses at each spot. Three vampires are already seated. Owen makes four.” He pauses. “One of the three is unknown to him. The others are a pair of brothers who
have been a pain in my ass for years. Lamont is there. So is Ford, along with a handful of other vampires who are talking with Lamont. Owen counts four. Guards, he suspects. Plus a human he doesn’t recognize.”

“A human?” I ask. “One of the girls?”

“No. A man. They are calling him Cheng. It’s a common name among the Chinese, yes?”

“Yes,” I agree.

“Are the vampires armed?” asks Zack.

Kallistos grows quiet again. Seconds later he answers. “Owen doesn’t think so. I’m sure Lamont is confident he could handle any bidder who might get out of control. When we show ourselves, some of them might ally with Lamont against us. We must be prepared for that.”

With that he’s off, heading across the street with purpose, his long legs allowing him to quickly cover the ground. I’m a runner and in good physical shape, but I possess neither the speed nor coordination of a vampire or Were. My predatory powers exploit other physical attributes and, unfortunately, they’ll be of little use over the next few minutes.

Kallistos disappears behind a clump of palms surrounded by lush underbrush. I try to keep up, but trip on a tangle of roots. Zack catches me and sets me right without breaking stride. We use the cover of the landscape to progress up the long drive that curves up to the mission and the supporting buildings behind and adjacent. It’s uphill. I know I’m slowing them down and wonder, for the first time, whether they’d be better off without me. I push the thought aside.

I’ve thought long and hard about Zack’s request. If it falls apart, if he and Kallistos don’t survive, it will be up
to me to get the girls out. The last time I released my powers within a group this large, the consequences were terrible because it’s impossible to control the desires and needs of dozens. I know if I have to resort to using my gift to interrupt violence, emotions will be high, the results brutal. It would be easy to redirect the attentions of the humans. But the vampires, and especially Lamont, would pose a challenge. I’ve survived such an assault before. I would undoubtedly survive again. And I would heal, eventually.

Kallistos has stopped. I peek around him. Ahead of us is an expanse of manicured lawn surrounded by a fence. He points to the far side. “We want to reach the canyon on the other side of the fence. See any security cameras?”

“I’m not seeing anything,” I answer.

“We’re good,” Zack agrees. “But stick to the fence line.”

Kallistos wraps his arm around my waist. “Hold on,” he says, softly.

Next thing I know, I am weightless. My feet have left the ground. For the briefest of moments I remember what it’s like, to launch myself into the air. To take flight. Kallistos clears the fence with ease. He lands firmly on his feet, then gently sets me down on mine.

“You okay?” he asks.

I nod.

Zack lands next to me in a crouch, the strap of his gun across his chest, rifle on his back. His eyes glow in the dark, the silver-blue matching the color surrounding the sliver of moon now visible through the clouds. In an instant, he’s on his feet, weapon back in his hands, ready for action.

We move, quickly and quietly along the chain-link fence. We don’t have to jump this time, and for that I’m grateful. The terrain on the other side appears to be steep. We come to a gate, secured with a chain. Kallistos pulls on it, separating and breaking the steel links as easily as rotted thread. Then, a drop-off. Kallistos leaps down. The drop is twelve, maybe fifteen feet. He holds his arms up, as if he’s prepared to catch me. I hesitate.

“Jump,” Zack whispers in my ear. “Kallistos will catch you.”

I do. Kallistos catches me in his arms, swings me to the ground.

My partner ties one end of a cable around the fence post, then takes the leap himself. This time his landing isn’t quite as soft as mine. He lands, rolls. Momentum causes him to slide down the side of the canyon’s ravine another twenty, maybe twenty-five feet.

“Use the cable,” Zack says to me. “Ease yourself down the rest of the way to the bottom.” The command is heard through the earpiece. It’s as clear as when he was standing alongside me.

Now I understand why he insisted I wear gloves. I move swiftly, rappelling down hand over hand. Kallistos moves faster. Ignoring the cable, he propels himself past me, reaching the base before I’ve progressed more than a few feet.

“Four more of the bidders have arrived,” he’s saying. “A vampire from Los Angeles who has little sense and large political aspirations. A fairly young one from Mexico, sired by their current King. An older female vampire he recognizes from the San Francisco area. I’d
considered hiring her once to create blends for the Emporiums. And . . . Moira.”

“Moira? Who’s Moira?” I ask when I reach the bottom.

“We have a history,” he replies.

His answer tells me nothing. It piques my curiosity. Do I want to know her story? I shake my head to clear it. It’s not important. Nothing is as important as rescuing those girls.

Kallistos heads for the San Diego River. It runs along the perimeter of the mission property and we begin to follow it.

Kallistos continues. “Owen has yet to see the girls. Lamont has explained each of the bidders will have the opportunity to sample the units before bidding commences.”

Units? The word appalls me.

“That’s what the glasses are for,” Zack says. “He’s conducting a blind tasting.”

A shiver runs up my spine. I suppose the glasses mean the blood has already been extracted. At least the vampires won’t be feeding directly from the girls. Perhaps Lamont’s way to assure none of the vampires go rogue and drain a prize before paying for it first?