Black of Hearts, page 45
part #12 of Quentin Black Mystery Series
You belong to me now, Miriam. You and your husband, Uri and myself… we will all be very good friends, yes? In the end, we must all be the very best of friends.
Metal glinted as it turned between his fingers.
It flickered with the fire.
“A cylinder,” I said, looking at Solonik. “It’s a cylinder… right?” I held my fingers apart, about three inches. “Copper. Thicker at the base, razor-thin at the bottom?”
Solonik nodded, eyes wary.
“Yes,” he said. “This is it, yes. I see this, too.” He aimed his fingers vaguely towards my collar. “Key is like collar. Organic. But he paints it. He makes it look like jewelry. I know this shape. I know it is key.”
Despite him looking at me for those few seconds, I could feel his focus remain obsessively on Nick, conscious of Nick watching, conscious of Nick listening to us speak.
Really, it should have been funny.
After everything Solonik put me and Black through, the fact that Solonik now viewed me only as a possible rival to Nick’s affections should have been funny.
It wasn’t really funny, though.
Truthfully, it disturbed me.
Solonik was dangerous like this, too. He might not be dangerous in exactly the same way, but he was still dangerous. Nick was right to worry about Jem. We were going to have to keep a damned close eye on the Russian infiltrator to keep him from cutting Jem’s throat when one of our backs was turned.
Jem grunted, giving me a faint smile.
I gave him a hard look, my voice warning.
“It’s not funny, Jem. It’s really not.”
Nick looked between us. “What’s not funny?”
Solonik answered before I could.
“This female…” he grunted, motioning towards me with his fingers as if he’d never seen me before in his life until today. His voice thickened under the Russian accent. “…She thinks I will hurt your little fuck-buddy pretty-boy here. The one with the soft hands and the handsome face. She thinks I might carve this face up with my knife while he is sleeping. Or maybe, just cut his throat when no one sees…”
Nick’s frown abruptly faded.
His eyes turned cold as ice.
For the first time since he’d appeared back in my life here in Moscow, I saw those eyes wholly as vampire eyes. I didn’t seen Nick in them at all.
Before any of us could react, he stepped forward.
He grabbed the front of Solonik’s armored vest, lifting him easily, as though he weighed no more than a cat. He lifted him high enough, one-handed, that Solonik’s feet left the floor. The lanky infiltrator let out a low squeal, kicking his legs like a rabbit caught in a snare.
“That sounded like a threat, Solonik,” Nick said.
His voice came out low, almost pleasant, but I heard that same deadly thing I saw in his colorless eyes. He shook the seer, rough, when Solonik didn’t answer.
Solonik paled.
His skin drained of so much color, it was nearly the same shade as Nick’s unearthly white, vampire skin.
“We discussed this, Solonik,” Nick said in the same, pleasant voice. “We had a nice, friendly chat about exactly what I would do, if anything happened to Jem. I said anything, Solonik. That includes things that are in no way directly or indirectly your fault. That includes times when you aren’t even in the room. That means anything, Solonik. You should value Jem’s life and well-being more than your own.”
Solonik’s violet eyes widened more as Nick spoke.
When Nick shook him again, roughly, Solonik let out another squeal.
He nodded frantically, his fingers clutching at Nick’s grip on his vest.
“I understand,” he whined. “I understand. It was a joke. Just a joke. Beautiful Naoko, I am only joking with the girl. I mean nothing by this…”
Solonik tried to stroke Nick’s face with his free hand.
Nick jerked away, scowling.
Solonik whined. “I am sorry. I am so very sorry if Naoko doesn’t like my jokes…”
Stepping back with a disgusted grunt, Nick released him.
Solonik landed awkwardly, but managed to remain on his feet, to more or less keep his balance. Nick watched, jaw hard, as the seer gasped, gripping the front of his vest.
“No more jokes, Solonik,” Nick growled. “You suck at them.”
There was a long-feeling silence, where the only sound that could be heard was Solonik gasping, and the fireplace crackling behind us.
Then Panther barked, growling at Solonik.
“I agree,” Jem said, leaning down to ruffle Panther’s ears. “He is an asshole.”
Solonik turned, glaring at both my dog and Jem.
Jem ignored him, focusing his pale green eyes on me and Nick.
“Let’s go look at that fucking panic room,” he said, matter-of-fact, giving Panther another friendly pat and scratch. “If we can’t figure out a way to crack it in the next half-hour or so, I say we leave. Try the cutting tools on the collar, and drive for Ukraine… maybe Poland. We have been in here too long already. I’m sure those fuckers have people coming. We can’t expect Solonik to kill all of them, too.”
I exchanged grim looks with Nick.
Then I turned to Jem, nodding.
I could not have agreed more.
33
Mouth Of Hell
ANGEL PUSHED THROUGH the narrow crevice, wiping sweat and dust from her face.
In the greenish glow of seer lamps she saw her hand come away covered in dark red dust mixed with blood.
Fuck.
She must have cut her head.
It must have happened when that chunk of rock fell from the ceiling after the first bomb hit. It hurt like hell when it crashed into her head and shoulder, but she hadn’t realized the blow broke the skin. She’d barely had time to recover, given what had been going on in those caves at the time. That was when they first started projecting the fake dragon over the desert… and right when all hell broke loose.
They’d been on the run ever since.
She glanced forward in the narrow passageway, hoping this part of the cave didn’t decide to collapse.
If it did, they were well and truly fucked.
“Most of the equipment is out.” Dex’s voice rose in her ear.
Cowboy answered, his voice strangely calm given the arrhythmic thud of concussions restarting above them.
“What about the dragon?” the Louisianan drawled. “They still falling for the light show up there, brother?”
“Seem to be. Yeah. It’s got most of the air cover distracted. Yarli says she thinks she can keep them going with it for at least another twenty, maybe thirty minutes.”
“Well,” Cowboy said. “That’s something.”
The Earth shuddered harder, making Angel tense, gasping.
Another string of bombs impacted the desert floor above, closer that time.
Too damned close.
Dex’s voice was almost as calm as Cowboy’s.
“The vamps are creating a second distraction at the South Entrance,” he said. “Hopefully that will draw off the last of these bombers. Engaging with ground forces now.”
Angel winced.
Unlike her two best friends, she wasn’t a veteran of the armed forces. She’d never been on the ground in an honest-to-God war.
She was a cop; she wasn’t used to this scorched-Earth crap.
She wasn’t used to having to make decisions that meant one group or another was at serious risk of dying in a mass-casualty event.
She definitely wasn’t used to being bombed by her own government, or having to deal with setting non-humans against her own kind. Maybe partly because of Nick and Miri, she’d always thought of her country’s military as the “good guys.”
She still did, for the most part.
Atrocities happened, sure. The military was far from perfect, but this wasn’t a case of bad apples, or the toxic military culture Nick used to bitch about.
This wasn’t their fault.
Charles was using them.
These soldiers, men and women of her own country, were ordered down here for Charles’ twisted ends. Not only were they following orders as part of their respective military branches, Charles had his seers manipulating their minds in a lot of cases to get them to do what they were doing. They believed they were protecting their country.
They didn’t know they were being used as cannon fodder to create a world where they, and their families, would be slaves to Charles’ twisted racial superiority crap.
They definitely didn’t deserve to have their throats ripped out by vampires, simply because they had the misfortune of being human. The soldiers on the ground here had no idea what they were up against in Charles.
They were pawns.
Means to an end.
“Did Brick get out with his team?” Dex said. “You’re in contact with him, right?”
“Ayuh,” Cowboy affirmed. “Mika tells me they’re out. Heading for L.A. She’ll stay with them until we rendezvous in San Francisco. Assuming we can confirm that.”
Dex let out a low curse. “Figures he’s out. Leaves us in that damned cave for weeks, then pops on out to Malibu for steak dinner. Asshole––”
“Kiko’s with us.” Angel spoke up without thinking, her voice sharp. “She’s here, right? With us? Jax and her are up with you guys? She didn’t go with Brick?”
“Kiko’s fine, Ang,” Cowboy said, his drawl reassuring. “Looking at her now.”
“I’m good,” Kiko affirmed cheerfully. “We’re leading these assholes.” Pausing, she added, “Not you, Ang. Those other assholes.”
Angel laughed; she couldn’t help it.
This was all so fucking insane, all you could do is laugh.
“Welcome to wartime, Angel,” Ace said, speaking up from up ahead, his voice as cheerful as Kiko’s. “Now you can say you’re an honest-to-goodness combat vet like the rest of us.” He paused, waiting for the shudder of another bomb blast to subside. “…And now you know why pretty much everyone on Black’s team is batshit crazy.”
“I figured that was just Black, actually,” Angel tossed back. “Like attracting like, and all that––”
“That, too,” Ace agreed.
Kiko laughed in her mic, and Angel smiled.
They were all punchy as hell, but maybe that wasn’t such a bad thing.
All of them, Angel included, were glad as hell to have left those damned caves.
They were glad to be moving, even if it was through more caves as they wound their way back towards the desert mountains and away from the Air Force and Navy’s bombing runs.
They were happy to finally be getting the fuck out of there.
Well… in theory, at least.
“Do we have air transport coming?” Luce called out. “Is that still happening? Or are we switching to ground, like Brick’s team?”
“Yarli’s still trying to get choppers to us,” Dex confirmed. “It’ll depend on how long they can keep Charles fooled and busy with the dragon.”
“How the fuck are they doing that, anyway?” Rodrigo muttered through the line. “Or do I even want to know?”
“Doesn’t matter right now,” Dex said, his voice warning, brooking no argument. “We’ll discuss all that later, back at the Raptor Nest. For now, just know Yarli’s got her seers all over that shit, so we don’t have a lot of support from them right now. We don’t have support from the aircraft carriers, either, since they’re sending everything they’ve got to that part of the desert.”
He raised his voice slightly.
“Our job is fucking simple right now, folks. We get the hell out. As quietly and as quickly as we can. With every single person alive and intact, if we can. Preferably before the whole damned house of cards comes crashing down on our heads.”
Angel nodded to herself, silent, clenching her jaw.
That sounded pretty danged accurate to her.
The ground shook beneath her feet, the cliff walls trembling around her, making her lose her balance, knocking into the walls. The narrowness of the crevice kept her upright, but she gasped, inhaling dust particles as sediment shook loose with the impact.
She was just starting to push her way forward again, when she heard a keening screech overhead, what sounded like an eagle the size of a damned whale.
It was so loud, all of them went totally still.
“What the fuck was that?” Angel heard A.J. mutter. “Did everyone else hear that? Or am I losing my mind?”
“We heard it, brother,” Cowboy said, grim. “Dex?”
There was a silence.
Then Dex’s voice rose, sounding strange, almost distant.
“She says it’s Black.”
The silence deepened.
“What?” Angel said.
When no one answered, she sharpened her voice, making it louder.
“What?” she repeated. “Did you say Black? As in, he’s really here?”
“She says he is.”
All of them fell silent.
“Why the fuck would he come here?” Luce muttered next.
“Wait,” A.J. spoke up, his voice disbelieving, and verging on panicked. “So they’re really shooting at Black? As in, no more illusion, but now it’s the real deal? The boss versus the whole damned U.S. military?”
“Calm down, everyone––” Dex began.
“What the hell do they see up there?” Michelle broke in. “Two dragons? Do they think they’re firing on two different dragons?”
Dex let out a sigh.
His voice still sounded strange, almost distant.
“Yarli’s had to compensate,” he said. “They’ve more or less collapsed the illusion into him. They wanted to protect what they’d been doing, the illusion they were using, in case we need something like that again. But they still want to use it to draw fire away from the boss.”
Dex paused, as if confused by his own explanation.
“…But yeah,” he went on after that pause. “The boss is up there. And yeah. They’re shooting at him. Yarli says he’s engaging with them more or less where they’d set up the illusion. He’s driving them back… a hell of a lot faster than the illusion was doing on its own. He’s taken out a good chunk of the first line of tanks already.”
The silence in the crevice deepened, contrasting all the sounds they could hear overhead.
Angel could hear what Dex had been talking about, even without her headset.
The heavy, multi-part bomb impacts were coming faster now, closer together.
They sounded further away now, like Black had drawn every single plane off the desert floor and towards him.
She heard another of those raptor-like screams, further away that time.
“They’re going to rip him apart,” Wu, one of Black’s ex-Special Forces guys said, his voice a hard mutter. “Jesus. How the fuck did he make it out here? Wasn’t he in, like, Siberia or something? Why would he come back here?”
“Okay, everyone,” Dex growled, apparently recovering somewhat from his initial shock at Black flying overhead. “Everyone just needs to calm the fuck down. Black’s given us a distraction… a real one… and we’re going to use it. Nothing we can do about it but get the hell out of here. Once we’re out, Black’s got no reason to be here, either. Right?”
“Did he come for us?” Luce said, doubtful.
“Cut the chatter,” Dex said, his voice harder, more overtly warning. “We won’t know shit until we get out of here, so let’s move it. We’re less than two clicks from the rendezvous. Yarli’s got choppers lined up to get us out. We’re going to take them, and get the fuck out of here. We’ll do what we can to support Black once we’re somewhere we have access to real firepower.”
Everyone went silent again.
Angel slid her body into a narrower sideways angle, shoving her way through the crevice faster as the group ahead of her sped up their pace.
As she did, she reached up, finding her earpiece awkwardly and touching the button to activate it. Using the mind-command function, she pulled up the drone feeds they still had access to, trying to see what was going on aboveground, trying to find Black through the remaining camera angles. She squinted at smoke-filled, blurred images, wincing at the volume of the feeds even as she shoved herself as fast as she could through the sandstone corridor.
She tried to keep an eye on both perspectives at once.
For the same reason, she saw Cowboy look back at her, his gray eyes worried, his face smudged with red dirt in the greenish light.
“Come on, baby,” he mouthed at her, inclining his head. “Hurry.”
She nodded, letting him know she understood.
She did begin working harder to catch up with the others, who were now going roughly at the speed of a military jog through the narrow space.
She was a little in awe at how fast they were moving, given a good chunk of the soldiers in front of her weighed two of her, and others carried heavy military packs.
Angel just had the three rifles slung over her shoulders, a small backpack, and a bag of extra magazines that banged against her leg as she made her way through the narrow opening.
Keeping an eye on Cowboy’s back, she fought to speed up, to match their pace, even as she clicked through drone angles, squinting through the smoke and fire in the virtual monitors. It was full daylight up there, meaning where the actual fighting was happening, but it was almost impossible to tell that, from the view she had.
Smoke turned the day to night.
Smoke filled every one of the views projected behind her eyes, punctuated periodically with plumes of orange and red flames. She saw flashes of light, small and large… likely a combination of missile detonations and smaller arms fire from guns mounted on fighter jets.
She got occasional glimpses of blue sky in the midst of that, but never for more than a few fractions of a second before it was covered over by more smoke and rock dust kicked up by ground forces and low-flying aircraft.
In other words, she couldn’t see shit.
She couldn’t hear much, either.
The sound was a distorted, wave-like echo of fast-moving air, shots fired, booming concussions on the ground and higher-pitched screams from missiles.
