Turned (31 page)

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Authors: Virna Depaul

BOOK: Turned
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Ana turned to Collette. “What about you?”

Collette nodded. “I was close by when the shooting occurred, but I want to hear what Carly has to say. I want to know how she knows all this.”

“Because I was there. At least I should have been,” Carly confessed. “I was a junior FBI agent attached to a
secret unit, and had infiltrated a gang—the Devil’s Crew—when I learned of a hit about to go down on a member of a rival gang. I warned my superiors, but they demanded I stand down. The hit was to continue as planned.”

Ana gasped. “Why?”

“Let’s just say that even before vampires were officially discovered by the FBI’s Strange Phenom Unit, the FBI was acting on information about them coming through Devil’s Crew. And they were already putting things in motion to work with them. Collateral damage—as in human life—was deemed worth the cost to get what the FBI wanted from them. But more than one life ended that day and that’s why you’re all here.”

Carly gave them the specific date. Understanding began to dawn.

“What I did and didn’t do mattered terribly,” she said. “In my own way, I’m trying to make up for it.”

“My mother …” Justine whispered.

“When the shoot-out happened,” Carly said, “one of the gangbangers tried to flee in a car. He crashed into another driver, a teenage girl, killing her mother instantly.”

Across the room, Justine gasped, and sank back into her chair, her face pale.

Carly continued. “Another girl was out with her older brother, having insisted he take her for an ice-cream sundae before returning to his military post. Innocent enough, right? Until he collapsed in front of her with a massive heart attack. He was only twenty-eight but he had an undiagnosed cardiac anomaly. The ambulance dispatched to rescue him got caught in the traffic snarl caused by the shootout. He died before EMTs could even reach him.”

“And that would be me,” Barrett spoke, her voice
calm and cool. Only the way she gripped the armchair, tight, her hands in claws, betrayed her emotion.

“I was there. I’d tried to help the wounded,” Collette said. “My father was a pastor. I was serving in a soup kitchen run by the church when I heard shots.”

Ana asked, “Was your dad killed? Is that how you’re linked to Justine and Barrett and me?”

Collette shook her head, her lips in a tight line. “No. I tried to help one of the injured gangbangers. He was scared. He had a knife. I lost a lot of blood. Needed a transfusion. The blood was clean. Everything should have been fine. But I’m sick. I get weaker every day. The doctors don’t know what I have. Or how long I have until …”

Barrett gasped.

Justine cursed.

“You’re dying,” Ana said flatly.

So many lives destroyed. Her story had just been the beginning—and not as bad as the others. She couldn’t have known what suffering she’d cause by asking her gang, the people she’d thought of as her family, for a fresh start.

Gangs were not family. They pretended to be, tried to act as protectors, providers.

But in protecting their members’ lives, gangs took their souls.

She’d known all this before. And nothing had changed, she realized.

It didn’t matter that vampires existed, that Carly had hired four women connected by a gang shooting, or that Ty was a vampire himself, bent on self-punishment. Or revenge.

Bottom line, Ana was still going to do what Belladonna wanted her to do for one reason and one reason only: Ana was going to save her sister.

She summoned up the nerve to back Carly into a corner.
“So you knew there’d been a hit ordered. Was I the target?”

“No. Your sister was.”

The shock was a one-two punch to Ana’s system. “
Gloria?
But why?
Who
ordered the hit?”

“Your friend Miguel.”

CHAPTER
THIRTY-ONE

You’re wrong, Ana wanted to say. No way would Miguel do
such a thing. Not in a thousand years.

But by now she knew the futility of arguing with them. Carly had her intel and contradicting her wouldn’t make an iota of difference.

“Fine,” Ana said, standing up. All she wanted to do was get out of there. Forever. “Sounds like everything’s tying together all nice and neat. And maybe there is actual evidence to back up your information. Hope we find it.”

She walked toward the library door and froze when Ty suddenly appeared.

He stared at her but spoke to the intercom. “I got your text, Carly. You’ve heard from Mahone?”

“Yes,” she said softly. “This information just in, people. Special Agent Kyle Mahone has information that will help us. Or hurt us, depending on how you choose to use it.”

Ana ripped her gaze from Ty’s and took her seat again.

Carly then told them three critical facts Mahone had learned. First, the secret to stopping a vampire from reading a mind or being able to persuade it was wearing pure gold. Remembering the medallion Ty wore under his shirt, Ana’s gaze shot to him, but his expression remained impassive. She understood immediately. He
hadn’t mentioned the thing to anyone else. Maybe he didn’t trust them after all.

The question fled her mind given her shock at what Carly said next. Mahone’s second discovery was that a vampire died when he turned a human. That was why it hadn’t happened very often before the FBI had messed things up. Ana wondered why it would have happened at all. Why would the Rogues have agreed to work with the FBI, turning humans for them, if doing so meant sacrificing their own lives? It made no sense.

Unless, of course, they hadn’t been doing the actual turning themselves.

But there was more. Moving right along, Carly conveyed Mahone’s most important information: only a stab to the heart with a blade dipped in subzero liquid nitrogen would kill a turned vampire.

Nice to know, Ana thought dismally. It was unlikely she or Ty would be let into Salvation’s Crossing with a couple of long, sharp knives tucked into their bags. Or better yet, with a canister of liquid nitrogen they’d ask to be placed in the freezer.

“Got it? Memorize everything,” Carly said. “And there’ll be a briefing on our satellite photos and infrared drone images of the compound before you go. It should be obvious that this information is strictly confidential. Ty, as I’m sure you’ve figured out, Ana has decided to—”

Ana couldn’t take it anymore. She bolted out of her chair and raced out of the library. In fact, she fled as if the devil was chasing her. It wasn’t the devil, though. It was the realization that Ty now had a way to do himself in if he was so inclined. He didn’t have to be diagnosed with PTSD for her to know how fast he could spin out of control—and how much agony it caused him.

Extreme stress could trigger suicidal thoughts. If he ended up alone somewhere without anyone to talk him
out of it, he could kill himself—kill the monster inside—anytime he wanted. And that made her want to weep.

If things went wrong, how could she protect herself, her sister, Miguel, and Ty all at the same time?

She loved them all, she admitted to herself.

Gloria.

Miguel, who she couldn’t believe had ordered a hit on her sister.

And, yes, Ty, vampire side and all.

She wished like hell she didn’t. She’d lost everyone she’d ever loved in one way or another. Would this turn out the same way?

An hour later, she was sitting by Belladonna’s huge lap pool, staring at the water. She sensed the moment Ty crossed the surrounding flagstones, even before he stepped beside her, kicked off his shoes, rolled up his pants, and sat down with his feet in the water next to hers.

Neither of them spoke for several minutes.

“Having second thoughts about coming with me?” he finally asked.

She smiled bitterly and shook her head. “Sorry. No such luck.”

Ty was silent for a few moments. Then he leaned back to take something out of his pocket.

Ana was surprised when he handed her a necklace, a more delicate version of the one he’d been wearing. “Here you go. Courtesy of Mahone,” he said.

Carefully, she took it from him. She slipped it on and tucked it under her blouse.

“Yay,” she said flatly. “They won’t be able to read our minds. And now we know how to kill a turned vampire.” She snorted. “Who knows? Maybe we’ll find some liquid nitrogen, too.”

“True,” he agreed. “But then what? You’ll grab a knife, dip it into the liquid nitrogen, and do what with
it? Kill your friend Miguel? Kill your
sister
?” He shot to his feet with incredible ease, leaving her to stare up at him.

Slowly, she got to her feet, as well.

“I told you before, I’ll do whatever I have to do,” she said fiercely. “But I don’t believe that’s going to be necessary. I don’t believe what you do about Gloria. Maybe Miguel, but I’m not even sure about that.”

“It doesn’t matter whether you believe it or not. If your life needs protecting, I’ll do it, Ana. I don’t care if it’s Miguel or your sister or whoever else—no one is going to hurt you. You come with me, you come knowing that.”

Instead of answering him, she looked away, which prompted him to gently grab hold of her chin and tilt her face up toward his.

“They’re not saints, Ana. At the very least, Miguel and Gloria are working with vampires to turn humans for the FBI. Thanks to Mahone, we now know that in order to turn a human, a vampire has to die.”

“So I heard.”

Ty scowled. “But maybe you didn’t
understand
. Rogues aren’t doing the turning. Neither are Miguel or your sister. So how do you think they get other vampires to do their dirty work for them?”

“By threatening those they love,” Ana said. It was what made the most sense. Gangs, solo criminals, abusers all did it. Just how they rolled.

“Yes.” He let her go.

“But Gloria and Miguel could be totally ignorant of the consequences of turning a human,” she insisted. “You were. And I guess Carly and Peter and the rest of the FBI Strange Phenom people were, too.”

Ty opened his mouth to reply, but Ana held up her hand, forestalling him.


Maybe
I can believe that of Miguel. If he wanted my
sister killed, I believe he could do anything. But that’s a big
if
. And I’m sorry, but I’ll never believe it about my sister. No matter what anyone tells me. Not without proof. That’s the only reason I’m going with you, Ty. To save Gloria. This—me being here with you—has
always
been about Gloria.”

She guessed his thoughts before he spoke them. Fire blazed in his eyes and his fists clenched, as if he was barely stopping himself from reaching for her. “No. When I held you in my arms, when I was
inside
you, it was only about the two of us, Ana. Remember that.”

His hand lifted and he stroked his knuckles across her cheek. Ana’s lips parted slightly. She didn’t want to kiss him.

But she did.

CHAPTER
THIRTY-TWO

Ana went back into the mansion without Ty, going quickly
up the stairs but pausing on the landing when she heard Collette’s voice below.

“Before you go …”

She turned to see all three of the other women standing in a group on the marble floor, looking up at her.

Oh no. Ana didn’t have the energy for some weird little bon voyage party.

“I really have to pack.” Her tone was barely polite.

Justine started up the steps. “Let us help. Carly said you would need a few extra things that you probably don’t have.”

Ana noticed the small bags each woman was holding. She couldn’t tell what was in them from where she was, but there weren’t any ribbons and wrapping paper. Obviously, she’d left the conference in the library a little too soon.

“Okay. Come on up.”

Collette led the way, followed by Justine and Barrett. Ana waited on the landing and turned to head toward her room when they were all on the same level.

She opened the door and waved them in.

“Dibs!” Justine headed straight for the bed before anyone else could, sprawling out in a half-reclined position.

Barrett chose the armchair and Collette simply sat on
the floor, setting out the small bags she’d gathered from the others. Ana sat beside her.

She looked around expectantly. Collette got right to the point. “Basically, this is a do-it-yourself, super-duper spy kit. You get to choose.”

“We’re going to get searched,” Ana said.

The ex-cop nodded. “Of course. That’s why none of this looks like spy stuff.”

“Does Ty get a kit, too?” Ana asked.

“Yup. Peter’s taking care of that. Some items overlap. Carly wants you both to be prepared. But first … We never did get around to that mani-pedi,” she said with a wink.

Ana gave her a puzzled look. She didn’t get the other woman. She was dying. Why wasn’t she more angry? “It’s not a high priority.”

“Most of this is ordinary drugstore stuff. But not all.” With almost inaudible clicks, Collette demonstrated two small weapons disguised as manicure tools.

“Cool,” Ana said with interest. “Like switchblades. Or shivs.” She’d had blades in her street days, and in prison, a handmade shiv concealed in her bed frame. Women could be more dangerous than men.

“Use them only if you have to,” Collette advised.

Justine yawned. “You know, in case your hero is flexing his muscles in the mirror at a critical moment.”

They all laughed.

Barrett thought of something else. “Ana, keep in mind that we are maintaining high surveillance on the compound. The eyebrow thingy is actually a laser beacon.”

“Got it. So what’s in the little bottles?”

“Some are just nail polish. One has luminol,” Collette answered.

“Which bottle?”

“The lavender-colored nail-polish remover, so you can
remember it easily. L for lavender, L for luminol. If you need to test for latent blood, use it.”

Ana nodded.

“The others hold reagents for different tests—Ty knows how to use them. But we couldn’t put all this girly stuff in his luggage.”

“I understand.” You didn’t venture onto enemy turf unless someone had your back. An ex-cop knew that all too well.

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