Red Sunset Drive, page 31
Alto stood over him once again. A macabre grin split his face. His eyes glittered with excitement.
A chill swept through Brett. He cast a pleading glance at Dragos. Unshed tears filled Dragos’s eyes. What is going on?
Dragos squeezed his eyes shut and turned his head away.
Silent tears coursed down Brett’s cheeks. His head rolled back and forth. He’d never get a chance to see Lisa again to tell her he loved her. His death would devastate his mother. She’d be alone. There were so many things he wanted to do—wanted to say. He’d never get to be a father. Hell, he couldn’t let his thoughts go down this road. It was the road of surrender.
Brett clenched his jaw. His body stiffened. He’d not let them see him give up. He was a fighter. It was never too late to fight.
As Alto leaned closer, Brett landed a ball of spit between the vampire’s eyes.
“I hope you choke on my blood, asshole.”
Victor’s laughter boomed throughout the room. “Detective, it is such a shame to kill you. You are rather amusing.”
Alto hissed in his ear. “Prepare to die, Detective.”
He glared up at Alto. He almost laughed as his fear fell away.
He felt the hot breath of the vampire on his skin when Dragos’s voice rang out.
“Enough. Leave him alone. I will do what you want.”
Alto straightened and turned to Victor. At Victor’s nod, Alto moved away from the table.
“Loosen the chains and bring him down,” Victor ordered.
Once Dragos was on his feet, he staggered over to the table and ripped off Brett’s restraints. Dragos wrapped an arm around Brett and helped him to his feet.
Brett pulled away and glared at Dragos. You’ve got to be kidding, he thought. A few minutes ago, Dragos had washed his hands of me. Why the change of heart? Was he supposed to forget that Dragos had thrown him to the wolves—or, more accurately, the vampires?
Victor smoothed some nonexistent wrinkles from his jacket and casually walked over to the bottom of the stairway. The sound of Victor’s boot heels clicking on the weathered stone floor sent chills up Brett’s spine. Victor paused, turning ever so slightly to face him and Dragos. He stiffened.
“Kill him,” ordered Victor, pointing to Brett. “Then join us upstairs. We will be leaving soon.”
Dragos’s eyes blazed.
“I’ve agreed to your terms, Victor. Let the detective go. There is no need to take his life.”
Victor swung around and stalked toward Dragos. “Kill him. I want you to prove that you are loyal to me.”
Dragos remained still. The pulse in Brett’s neck pounded. Was it from fear or anger? He stepped back, away from Dragos. He didn’t know who to trust at this point.
Dragos’s harsh whisper reached his ears. “You’d do better to stay near me, O’Shea.”
Not taking his eyes off of Victor, Brett growled. “I’ll be the judge of that. You’re still a vampire, you know.”
Low laughter rumbled in Dragos’s chest. “As if I could forget.”
“Quit stalling,” Victor yelled.
Brett cocked his head and smiled. “Dragos, are we stalling?”
Dragos shook his head and stepped near Brett. “No.”
Saliva bubbled from Victor’s mouth, as his teeth lengthened. He waved his guards forward. “Kill them both!”
A flurry of motion ensued as two vampires attacked Dragos. With his heart pounding in his chest, Brett backed against the wall, quickly scanning the room for something to use as a weapon—anything! The figures moved too fast; he feared he’d strike Dragos by mistake.
Dragos and one vampire were locked together. Suddenly a cracking sound caused all motion to cease. Dragos straightened. A vampire collapsed at his feet, his head lying at an odd angle. Before his friend caught his breath, the second vampire flew into his body and slammed Dragos to the floor. Punches were thrown faster than Brett could see.
Brett inched toward a workbench and slipped a hammer into his hand, hiding it at his side. He took a few steps toward Victor, thinking maybe he’d be able to surprise the creature. He couldn’t just stand here and watch; he had to help. Tension strummed through him as he clasped the hammer.
When Dragos grunted, he swung toward his friend. Strong hands grabbed him from behind, wrestling the hammer from his grip. Victor’s lethal-looking teeth were just inches from his face.
“What are you doing, Detective? Your weapon is useless against us.” Victor twisted Brett’s arm behind his back. He roared from the pain. The vampire’s warm breath coated his face. “I’ve had enough from you. You are mine now.”
Victor forced him upon the table and held Brett’s upper body in place with only one arm. Brett thrashed and kicked, trying to break free.
“Go to hell!” Brett pushed against Victor, trying to keep the vampire from biting him. His arms shook from the exertion. He couldn’t hold him back much longer.
Victor’s glittering eyes drew nearer. Instinctively Brett pressed backward. Panic threatened to overwhelm him. A quick glance at Dragos showed that his friend was also fighting for his life. Nothing would save them now.
57
Michael’s knee bounced up and down in the backseat. He rode with the two women. Anders and the other policemen drove in a separate car. It didn’t take long to reach the vampire house.
With seven people carrying an entire arsenal, the group parked at the edge of the harvested cornfield. Victor’s house sat on the far edge of the field. Once out of the cars, they quickly loaded every pocket and bag with ammo and an assortment of knives, holy water, and stakes.
Michael patted the inside of his tweed suit jacket. Yes, the grenades were still there. He chuckled aloud, drawing curious looks from the rest of the group. He adjusted the brim of his hat, ignoring Lisa, who continued to study him.
As the group continued to load and prepare for the battle, Lisa walked up to him.
“What are you up to?”
He barely met her gaze. “Nothing. Why?”
Lisa folded her arms across her chest. “Don’t forget that I’ve worked with you before.”
The left side of his mouth quirked upward. “Yes, you did. I take it you remember what a bang-up job I did?”
“Well, I remember it a little bit differently.”
His low rumble of laughter drew Anders’s attention.
“Are you two about done? We’re ready.” Anders slammed the trunk lid closed.
“Yes, sir. We’re coming.” Lisa started to walk away but paused and turned back toward Michael. “No funny business. Got it?”
He smiled. “Got it. We’d better catch up with the rest of them.”
Lordy! Lisa was really stressed. Why was she worried about him? It seemed they had bigger worries to deal with.
Michael trailed behind Lisa. Candy and the police officers were clustered together, rehashing the planned strategy. Anders stood off to the side and motioned for him. He would never tell anyone, but he worried about Anders. The chief was in his midfifties and was not in peak physical condition, as were Foster and the other officers. With the head wound and loss of blood, Anders looked pale. He’d have to keep an eye on the chief tonight.
Michael pulled a pipe out of his jacket as Anders sidled up next to him. Anders cocked his head and glanced at him. The chief wiped his brow with the back of his hand. Even though a chilly November wind rustled the leaves at their feet, Anders was sweating.
“Are you okay, Anders? You’re not looking yourself. Maybe you should sit this one out.”
The chief waved his hand and looked annoyed.
“Don’t worry about me. I wanted to have a word with you.” Anders’s gaze darted to the men walking ahead of them.
“I’m listening.”
“Well, I would appreciate it if you would look after Foster and the men tonight. They’ll be in the middle of the action and you know …”
He nodded. It was obvious that the chief was concerned about his men—an admirable trait in any leader. “I’ll do my best. You know that getting Brett out of there alive is my first priority.”
Anders cleared his throat. “Of course. I’m worried. Maybe I should have brought in more men. Shit! I might get everyone killed tonight.”
Michael reached out, clasping Anders on the shoulder. “You’ve done everything humanly possible. Your men are very qualified. Just remember: stake the bloodsuckers quickly.”
“Got it,” Anders muttered.
Anders slapped his shoulder and walked ahead to join Foster. He paused to glance up to the star-filled heavens.
“I hope someone up there is watching. These are good people, and I don’t want to see any of them end up dead.”
His gaze was drawn to a nearby oak tree. The distinct sound of fluttering wings was enough to set his heart pounding. Peering upward, he turned until he spotted a great horned owl glaring down at him. The tufts of feathers on its head made it appear to have horns. The bird’s head was cocked to the side. Round yellow eyes followed his every movement.
He stood with his hands on his hips, a pipe hanging out of the corner of his mouth.
“Another owl? Really? Is that the help you’re sending?”
The owl hopped down the branch, making hooting noises.
“Chirp away. I’m not happy with this. A damned bird.” He shook his head and turned to follow the group.
Suddenly sharp talons dug into his shoulders. Quickly dropping to the ground, Michael waved his arms, hoping to knock the bird off his back. He rolled over to his back and looked to see if the coast was clear. Nope! The damn owl landed on his chest, its lethal claws prancing about on top of his body.
Maybe he’d been a little hasty in judging the owl. Its fierceness quickly made him a believer.
“Okay, okay. Just don’t attack the good guys.”
The owl continued to make high-pitched noises, as if it were agitated. Not a good sign. He attempted a half smile.
“Nice birdy. Yes, you are,” he muttered in a low tone. “Just fly back to the tree. That’s right, fly away. Shoo.”
Lisa stood over him. He scrambled to his feet.
“What are you doing on the ground?”
“Didn’t you see that owl attack me?”
Her brows rose. “No. All I saw was you rolling around acting crazy. It’s getting dark. Hurry up.”
He picked up his hat and dusted it off before plopping it back on his head. “I’m coming.”
He glanced upward, spotting the owl flying from tree to tree. He knew it was going to be an interesting evening.
58
Lisa’s stomach clenched. She stood with the group, who huddled together in the cornfield across from the Victor’s house. The last of the pinkish rays from the setting sun dipped lower on the horizon. Her body trembled from fear; fear of the unknown.
The men were trying to decide how to best breach the house. They debated whether they should come in from different locations or blow up the front door and all go charging in? Since Michael had helped Anders escape and had scoped out the house earlier, they asked him for advice.
“Surprise will help us the most. There are cameras, so we need to go in fast.”
“Well, I say go big or go home,” Nichols grunted.
Anders and Foster glared at the officer, who sheepishly shrugged.
Candy tossed her face camo stick back in her bag. “So who’s going in first, and where do Lisa and I fit in?” Her chin jutted out with determination.
Anders cleared his throat and quickly glanced at Foster. “Let us go in fast and heavy. There is going to be lots of gunfire and smoke. I would like you women to hold back, but be ready with the stakes and holy water.”
Candy shook her head. “No! I’m going in to get Dragos. I can shoot as well as any man here.”
“Well, I’m not staying outside by myself,” said Lisa.
“Ladies, think for a minute,” urged Michael. “Let the men do the dirty work. We want to keep you safe.”
Candy calmly reached for her ammo bag. She lifted out a twelve-gauge, sawed-off shotgun.
Lisa gasped. What’s Candy doing?
“Put that thing away,” Foster ordered. “What the hell are you doing with a riot gun?”
Candy pulled out several shells and calmly loaded the semiautomatic shotgun.
“Shit, woman!” hissed Nichols. “Do you know you’re loading military-grade breaching rounds?”
Candy hefted her bag over her shoulder. “Technically, they’re M1030 breaching rounds. Lisa, are you coming?”
Anders and Michael glared after Candy. “Shit.” Lisa grabbed her bag and hurried after Candy.
“Get back here,” Anders hissed. “We’re not ready.”
She didn’t stop or turn around. This way she could pretend she didn’t hear his order. By the time she caught up with Candy, her legs felt like noodles. They were ready to collapse at any point. She yanked Candy’s arm. “Hey, slow down. What are you doing?”
“I’m going in to get Dragos and Brett. Get your gun, and be ready to start shooting.”
Lisa took a deep breath and cast a quick glance to the dark house. Maybe we should let the police go in first. “Let’s wait for Anders.”
Michael appeared by their side. A large grin lit up his face.
“I hope you ladies know what you’re doing.” He looked over his shoulder. “Oops. Here come the cops. You’d better get going.”
Candy crouched down and ran toward the front door. She brought the barrel of the gun up level with the doorknob and fired.
A loud blast emanated from the gun. Lisa screamed, covering her ears. Shards of wood and metal peppered the ground. Candy kicked the shattered door open.
Lisa gaped after her friend. She had no idea that Candy was so kick ass! Her friend had a low tolerance for pain, but she knew how to get the job done. Lisa jumped aside as Foster and his men ran past her. By the time Lisa set foot in the entrance, Candy and the men had disappeared into the darkness of the house.
She was supposed to help Candy. Fear spiked inside her. As she opened her supply bag, her hand shook. She pulled out a stake and shoved a spray bottle of holy water into her pocket.
She stood in the doorway. Screams and moans echoed throughout the house. Several bursts of light flashed, drawing her attention. What was that? Gunfire? Shit, shit. It was so dark she couldn’t even see her hand in front of her face. No way was she going to wander off alone. She’d end up getting shot.
Michael suddenly appeared at her side. “Get out of the doorway,” he roared. “You’re a sitting duck.”
He disappeared before she could ask for help. “Michael, get back here. Michael!” She shifted from side to side, needing his reassuring presence.
Several seconds passed before she was able to move, and she cursed Michael with every step. With the wall at her back, all she had to worry about was what was coming toward her. She gripped the stake, holding the sharp point outward. She scooted along the wall, gaining confidence with each step. A silent mantra rang in her head: You can do this. You can do this.
Suddenly she stumbled backward. A doorway was open behind her. She whipped around, the stake jerking up and down as her hand trembled. She stared into the dark room. As she stood poised near the doorway, her eyes widened. There was a shadow in the far corner of the room. Is it Foster or Michael? Probably Michael, she rationalized. He enjoys scaring the bejesus out of people.
“Michael, get over here,” she hissed. Why did it have to be so dark in here? She couldn’t see anything.
A pair of red eyes suddenly loomed in front of her. Instinctively she stepped back, the stake wavering in her hand.
“Hello, gorgeous. How nice of you to bring me dinner.”
Dinner? I don’t have any foo … Oh shit! A vampire!
She screamed and whipped around. Run, she told herself. Before she took two steps, the vampire grabbed a handful of her hair and jerked her backward. As she slammed back against the vampire, his arm clamped around her waist. No matter how hard she squirmed, he pinned her tight against him. His tongue stroked her neck.
“Hmm. Tasty,” he murmured. “You’re not going to try to stab me with that little twig of yours, are you?”
His words nearly sent her heart plummeting. She thrashed back and forth, kicking her feet and doing everything else she could to make him loosen his grip. When she pushed back against his body, his erection pushed against her bottom. She froze, glancing back over her shoulder. It was a mistake. His long, dark hair draped over her shoulder. A GQ model’s face stared back at her, chiseled cheekbones and all. Great! She peeked at him again. He did have those ugly, sharp teeth and scary red eyes. She shook her head, trying to focus on what was important. She was here to kill vampires, not be seduced by one. She had to get it together. After all, he had referred to her as his dinner.
His hypnotic gaze lured her closer. His cold lips nuzzled her neck. The monster inhaled her scent. This is just creepy! Somehow she had to break the spell that wove its way around her.
She rammed her elbow into his stomach. His grip tightened. It was like hitting a rock wall. He didn’t budge.
He ran a hand down her curves, lingering on the side of her breast. “You like it, don’t you?”
She shook her head. The sound of a zipper made her stiffen with fear. His hand reached around her body and tugged on her jeans.
A woman’s scream at the opposite end of the house drew their attention. It was followed by several bursts of gunfire.
Lisa renewed her struggles. It sounded as if Candy was in trouble. “Leave me the hell alone!” Her hand tightened around the stake.
