Target (6 page)

"So, Tanner's looking to make a little extra money, going the blackmail route?"

"Could be," Fritz agreed. "And that could be worth more than five mil, when all's said and done."

"Better for us. That hacienda in Mexico is lookin' awful good."

"We just need to make sure Tanner knows how much he owes us."

"We'll make sure of it," Cade said, pulling a knife from the sheath at his belt to clean his fingernails.

* * *

"It's our God given right to bear arms and hunt any animal." Congressman Jack Howard looked quite distinguished—from the threads of gray at the temples of his carefully groomed, dark hair to the designer jeans, cowboy shirt and snakeskin boots he wore. He smiled and blew smoke from the expensive Cuban cigar Obediah Tanner offered.

He and Tanner stood inside Tanner's trophy room, which was elaborately decorated with various stuffed heads. In some cases, the entire, taxidermic animal adorned the spacious room. A very rare white buffalo, mounted on a stand, took up the center of Obediah's favorite room. Obediah often used the buffalo's short horns to hang his Stetsons.

"And you're tellin' me this girl is a unicorn? I thought those were myth." Jack Howard blew a plume of smoke toward the ceiling.

"You'll know the truth of it when her head hangs in your lodge," Tanner said, lifting a glass of whiskey to his lips. Tanner was close to six feet tall, with brown hair going a bit gray and a thick mustache that hid part of a scar running from his left eye down to the chin. Werewolves didn't scar unless the injury was quite severe. Tanner never forgot who'd given him that scar. He'd fought a Texas Ranger-turned vampire a century and a half earlier, near what was now the Texas-Mexican border. Tanner would have liked to return the favor, but he'd been near death when dawn came and the vampire had been forced to seek shelter from the sun.

"I'm looking forward to this," Congressman Howard drained his glass of whiskey. "I haven't been hunting on horseback for a while."

"We're gonna have a great time," Tanner slapped the congressman on the back.

* * *

Sali was so nervous, Ashe didn't think he was going to get through the night without having a mental event of some sort. "Sali, you'll go straight back to the hotel if you can't stop fretting," Marcus warned. Sali was confined to a small space between vans in the near-desert conditions of the Texas panhandle. Marco had already grabbed Sali once when he attempted to escape the confining space. Sali had growled viciously at his brother. Ashe, watching the entire incident from nearby, was worried more about Sali than about himself.

Ashe squinted as he scanned the horizon—the sun was slipping down until only a thin, bright crescent hovered in the west. Marcus and Winkler were waiting on someone else to come, and Ashe guessed that twilight was the time for that. Twenty minutes past sundown, Ashe discovered what they were waiting on—two vampires and the Lubbock Pack.

Vans and trucks pulled up nearby, amid sounds of growling engines and swirls of dry dust. Twenty-six werewolves exited vehicles quickly. The two vampires climbed from an SUV and immediately strode in Winkler's direction. Ashe had never seen these vampires before, but his experience with vampires was quite limited. His father, Nathan Anderson and Old Harold, who'd died three years earlier, were the vampires with whom he was most familiar. After that came Radomir, the vampire Enforcer the Council had sent to investigate Old Harold's death.

One of these new vampires was at least six-six, with pale-blond hair, cut short and spiked. The other was shorter, around five-ten or so, with dark-brown hair. The taller one looked as if he'd seen a lot of life. The other seemed younger and less careworn, somehow. After a brief conversation with Winkler, the vampires stood calmly while preparations were made all around them. The Lubbock werewolves were handed rifles and other weapons, and then went through a routine check with Winkler and Marcus while Ashe watched in fascination.

"This is Dalroy," Winkler walked up to Ashe and introduced the taller vampire. "And this is Rhett," he nodded to the shorter one. "Dalroy has some history with Mr. Tanner, I understand."

"Bad business," Dalroy nodded. Ashe drew in a breath. This one had to be from the old west; he could tell by the accent. "You're one of the few," he nodded to Ashe.

"The few?" Sali, who'd stopped pacing to stand beside Ashe, couldn't help himself.

"There are only a handful of children approved by the Council," Dalroy explained. "Maybe twenty or so. All born to shapeshifter-vampire parents." Ashe figured he was a part of a very unusual and risky experiment—one approved by the most powerful among the vampire race. It made him wonder if the Council was still allowing vampires to have children.

"It's time," Winkler announced. "Ashe, we want you to go in and see what you can find as mist. The others here are going to come in from the south and take down Tanner's Pack. Not all of Tanner's bunch will be going to the hunt. It's their job to make sure the quarry doesn't escape. Tanner's Pack will be spreading out along the fence and when they get wind of us, they'll be going over or through it if we don't stop them quick."

"Mr. Winkler, it may be easier to find things if I go in as the bat first," Ashe suggested, watching as armed werewolves loaded into several vans, ready to drive to the southern edge of the preserve. "I can detect anything by echolocation," Ashe went on. "I'll change to mist if I find what I'm looking for."

"Boy, can you send the message back if you do? We can go in if we know where to go," Marcus growled. Normally, Marcus wasn't so abrupt. It made Ashe wonder what Marcus had done for the military.

"Yeah. I'll do what I can, Mr. DeLuca," Ashe nodded. "Sali, will you pick up my clothes?" Ashe turned to his best friend. Sali nodded. Ashe turned to bumblebee bat and fluttered for a moment before Marcus' nose.

"I'll be damned," Dalroy whispered. Ashe heard the vampire clearly, as he turned and flew toward the spot Marcus had shown him on the map. At first, Ashe didn't get anything—he received echoes off a few scattered buildings and fences, nothing more. Traveling farther over the open space of the preserve, his echoes brought back evidence of a few insects and small animals—rabbits and other desert creatures. Abruptly, two men and horses appeared, their size and shape bouncing back to him quickly. They were close. Ashe kept sending signals and flew swiftly in that direction. More humans on horses emerged right behind the first two. Ashe turned to mist in a blink, blazing toward the horses.

Winkler, there are horses and riders, about half a mile east
, Ashe sent. Ashe flew over at least ten men who were mounted. Each man had a rifle with him. Ashe almost froze. They were going to hunt Wynn. They were going to
kill
Wynn.
They have rifles!
Ashe shouted mentally. Ashe didn't know what else to do except follow as the riders took off eastward.

"Watch toward the northeast," one of the riders said, the horse loping easily beneath him, his gait eating up the desert beneath flying hooves. His rifle was pointed upward as he spoke to another rider, who also had his gun at the ready. The others had rifles in scabbards on saddles, but all were ready to arm themselves if needed.

Winkler,
Ashe sent
, a man with a bushy mustache said to watch to the northeast
. Ashe slowed, following along overhead as the horses loped along.

"There!" A man shouted beneath Ashe's mist. "I saw a flash of white!" Ashe was suddenly terrified. More than anything he wished Wynn had mindspeech. That would make things so easy. Instead, he did what he could.

Run, Wynn! Run! I'll try to find you!
Ashe flew higher, hoping to capture a glimpse of a racing unicorn.

* * *

They'd hit her with whips to make her change, and one had zapped her with a cattle prod to get her to run out of the tunnel. Now, Wynn thought she heard Ashe's voice in her mind. He'd told her to run. Her flanks burning, Wynn ran as fast as she could, ears laid back, gold horn pointed forward, mane and tail flying as her hooves struck the ground as fast as she could make them go. She'd have been weeping as she ran if she were in human shape. The moon was waning but still shone upon Wynn, illuminating her shining white coat. It would make her an easy target.

* * *

I see her!
Ashe sent.
But their horses are running faster, now. They've sighted her. I have to help!
Ashe cut off the communication, diving down toward Wynn, who was losing ground against larger, faster horses. She wasn't used to running for her life, Ashe knew. Ashe swooped behind the man who was lowering his rifle, ready to take a shot as his horse ran beneath him. Turning the gun to mist, Ashe snatched it away, causing the man to shout and curse. Dropping the rifle behind him, where it hit the dry soil with a thunk, Ashe watched in dismay as one of the other riders tossed his rifle to the hunter without missing a stride. This one had paid to bring Wynn down. Ashe was going to take him down instead.

Ashe flew forward quickly, gathering the man inside his mist. The man screamed as Ashe dumped him in the dirt, his body rolling across sandy soil and desert scrub before coming to a stop in a cloud of dust. The hunter, unhurt, rose, grabbed his rifle and aimed indiscriminately. Several shots rang out. While the bullets flew harmlessly through Ashe's mist, one of the men racing away dropped off his horse and lay unmoving amid a stand of mesquite.

Choosing to ignore the one who'd been shot, Ashe went after the man with the bushy mustache; his rifle was now aimed at Wynn. Her unicorn's shining white coat could be seen clearly; her mane and tail were flying, her pursuers catching up. Ashe misted toward the one taking aim as he got a shot off. Wynn fell. Frightened and infuriated, Ashe misted the gun from the man's hands and before he thought, forced his hands to materialize as he hit the man across the face with the rifle butt.

Chapter 4
 

They've hit Wynn!
Ashe shouted mentally, blazing toward the white unicorn that was struggling to rise. A bloody smear stood out on her right shoulder. Ashe didn't take time to think, he gathered her inside his mist. The ones with rifles raised behind him were shouting and firing as they pulled their horses to a stop; they'd all seen the unicorn disappear.

Get them!
Ashe said to whoever was listening.
I've got Wynn, she's been hit
, he repeated. Rising high overhead, Ashe watched as a storm hit the men below. Dalroy and Rhett had arrived, prepared to take down the hunters. Ashe had never seen vampires work like this—a whirlwind of dust was raised as men were pulled from saddles and knocked unconscious. Horses galloped away, frightened by the chaos. Ashe knew he didn't have time to worry about any of that; he had to get help for Wynn. He raced toward the vans on the western side of the game preserve.

"Ashe!" Sali was shouting and struggling against Marco's grip while Marco held his younger brother back. Marcus took Wynn from Ashe, who'd reappeared, Wynn in human form wrapped in his arms.

"It's just a shoulder wound," Marcus reassured Sali, who was trembling after Marco released him. Marco grabbed Ashe's clothing and handed it to him while Wynn was laid gently in the back of a van.

"Don't worry, we'll take care of this," werewolf David Lang had come, armed with medical supplies. Wynn was weeping and shivering while Marcus covered her with a blanket and David gave an injection.

"It'll be better if she's calm," he said to Sali, who was struggling in his brother's grip again as he tried to reach Wynn.

"Wynn, it's all right," Sali called, holding out a hand toward her. "We've got you, it'll be all right." Another of the werewolves who stayed behind was calling Wynn's father, Jonas O'Neill, on a cell phone.

"We've got her. She's wounded but it's superficial, I think. Dr. Lang is tending her now." Ashe was still watching David Lang work on Wynn as he pulled his athletic shoes on.

"She'll be all right," Marcus placed a hand on Ashe's shoulder. "How was the fight going when you left?"

"Good, I think," Ashe said absently as he watched Dr. Lang slip an IV into Wynn's hand. Someone else was there, holding up the bag of IV fluid while the wound was cleaned and bandaged. Wynn, lying in the back of the van while she received treatment, moaned softly now and then, but Ashe felt sure that Dr. Lang had given her something for pain already.

"A bad graze and some superficial wounds on her hips," Dr. Lang said as Ashe crowded close to Sali behind the van.

"I thought you were a paramedic," Ashe said.

"I work as a paramedic, Son. I'm more than a hundred years old. Got my medical license more than fifty years ago. I know what I'm doing. Now, what about you? Got the shakes?"

Ashe was a little shaky but didn't want to admit it. "I'll be okay," he said, watching Sali crawl into the van beside Wynn.

"Sali?" Wynn's voice was weak.

"Wynn, we'll take care of you, I promise," Sali whispered. Ashe heard it clearly. He also saw Wynn grip Sali's hand. Ashe knew he shouldn't have been shocked to see Sali lift the hand and kiss it. An unexpected wave of jealousy hit Ashe, and he struggled with that as he watched Sali comfort Wynn.

"If you need something, even to sleep, let Winkler or me know," Dr. Lang said, patting Ashe's shoulder and bringing his attention back to the doctor. "That was good work, young man."