Protector Unmatched, page 20
“You think he took the source dagger he just won in the auction?” Pearce asked.
Daphne nodded. “He’ll want to show his new purchase off to his friends.”
“We’d better make sure,” Enya said.
30
Daphne was right. A thorough search of Harcott’s house had confirmed it. And another problem had cropped up: they searched all hotel reservations in the Los Angeles area, but Harcott’s name didn’t come up. He’d either booked his hotel under another name or was staying with friends. In either case, there was no way they could catch up with Harcott and take the dagger from him before he went to the cosplay event the next morning.
“At least we know where he’s gonna be and when,” Daphne said upon leaving Miami.
“Are you suggesting we attend the cosplay convention to find him?” Pearce asked.
“Yep.”
“In a crowd of what? A thousand people?”
“Make that ten thousand. The L.A. cosplay event is huge.”
Pearce exchanged a look with Enya. “We need more manpower.”
Enya nodded. “The entire Baltimore compound. And we’d better talk to Scanguards too. We need more hybrids.”
“And costumes,” Daphne added.
Many hours and many phone calls later, Pearce, Enya, and Daphne arrived in Los Angeles and entered a large vampire-proof mansion owned by Scanguards, the Stealth Guardians’ vampire allies. The place was tucked away in a side street in Brentwood, a fancy neighborhood not far from UCLA.
When they stepped into the large foyer, it was buzzing like a beehive. People carried overnight bags up the stairs, greeted each other, or stood in deep conversation, while a security guard with a clipboard looked at them. From his aura, Pearce recognized him as a vampire, even though he didn’t know him personally. He had to be a Scanguards employee.
“Stealth Guardians,” the guard said, and waved them to approach. “Name?”
“Pearce.”
“We’ve got you in the Cloud Room on the top floor. Sign’s on the door.” Then he looked at Enya. “You must be Enya.”
“Good guess,” she replied.
The guard shrugged. “It’s easy when you’re only expecting one female Stealth Guardian.” He looked at his clipboard. “You’ll be staying in the Sunset Room on the second floor.” His eyes roamed over Daphne, then they snapped back to the clipboard. He looked up and shook his head. “Sorry, must have been a mix-up, but I don’t have a human listed here.”
“She’s with me,” Pearce said. “She won’t need her own room.”
“All right, you’re all set, then.”
Enya was already turning away to greet somebody.
“Is everybody here?” Pearce asked.
The guard nodded. “You’re the last to arrive.” He pointed to an open door. “The meeting will start shortly. If you need a hand with your luggage, I can take care of that for you.”
“We don’t have any,” Pearce said. They hadn’t gone back to Baltimore, traveling straight from Miami.
“Oh, in that case, I’ll have toiletries and other necessities sent up to your rooms.”
“Thank you.”
Pearce took Daphne’s arm and steered her toward the open door, but a voice stopped him. “There you are.”
He turned to his left and saw Gabriel approach, his hand stretched out in greeting.
Pearce grasped it and shook it. “Gabriel, I can’t even tell you how grateful I am that you and your men are helping us with this on such short notice.”
Gabriel smiled, and the large scar that marred the left side of his face twitched. “Samson insisted. He would have come himself, but figured Patrick would be of more use than he.”
“Patrick?” Pearce turned back to Daphne. “Sorry, I should introduce you guys. Daphne, this is Gabriel, second in charge at Scanguards, our vampire allies, and Ryder’s father.”
“Nice to meet you,” Daphne said with some hesitation, while she clearly tried to avoid looking at his scar.
“It’s a pleasure, Daphne,” Gabriel said.
“And Patrick is Grayson’s younger brother,” Pearce explained to Daphne, then asked Gabriel, “So why is he sending Patrick? I mean, no offense, he’s a trained bodyguard, but—”
“I get what you’re trying to say,” Gabriel said, “but he’s got some expertise that some of us old folks know nothing about.” He smiled at Daphne. “He’s a nut about cosplay. He knows everything about it. We figured he can be in charge of the costumes and getting us into the event.”
“I can help him,” Daphne offered. “I know a lot about cosplay too.”
Gabriel nodded. “I’ll introduce you to him. I think he’s working the phone right now to get tickets.”
“How many people are we trying to get inside?” she asked.
“Well, let’s see… six Stealth Guardians, three hybrids, given that Patrick will insist on going, and four vampires—”
“Who are the vampires apart from you?” Pearce interrupted.
“Zane, Thomas, and Yvette.”
“Excellent choices,” Pearce said, and meant it.
“So, fourteen tickets, then,” Daphne said.
“Uh, I think that’s thirteen, actually,” Gabriel said politely.
“Actually, fourteen,” Daphne said. “I need a ticket too.”
“No, you won’t,” Pearce replied.
“But I’m coming with—”
“There’s always the chance, no matter how slim, that the demons know about Harcott and that he’ll be at the cosplay event. They’ve never been far behind. Hell, they found the location of the dagger before we did. We have to assume that they know who’s got it now. That’s the whole reason we brought Scanguards in. They’re equipped to help us fight the demons should we encounter them. You’re not. You’re staying here, in this house, protected by one of Scanguards’ men. And that’s that.”
Apparently, Daphne didn’t like his answer in the least. She braced her hands at her hips. “Then who’s gonna get you tickets to get inside? Because I can tell you right now that you’re not gonna get any legit tickets this late in the game.”
From behind them, a male said, “I’m afraid she’s right.”
Pearce spun around to see a young hybrid approach. He looked very much like his father and his older brother. “Patrick.”
“Hey, guys,” Patrick said. “Sorry to be the bearer of bad news, but I tried all my contacts to get tickets. Even the usual hawkers have none left. Dad authorized me to offer whatever price would buy us access, but even with unlimited funds, I can’t get us in. I was gonna talk to Thomas and see if he can hack into their system and generate some tickets for us that’ll pass their scanner. Security is ultra-tight this year. Particularly after that kerfuffle last year.”
“What kerfuffle?” Pearce asked.
Patrick gave a one-shouldered shrug. “Well, I guess if you’re not following the industry, you wouldn’t know. Anyway, last year a bunch of guys tried to kidnap the cast of Game of Thrones, and the way they got in was with fake tickets. I heard they’ve implemented a two-step security system this year. I’ll talk to Thomas about it. He should know how to get around it. Or you could talk to him, Pearce, IT genius to IT genius.”
“Sounds good,” Pearce said. “Together we’ll figure it out.”
“By the time you get into their system—if you get in—it’ll be too late,” Daphne said in a calm voice.
“You underestimate my and Thomas’s skills.”
“I don’t,” Daphne said. “But I know the guy who wrote the program. Ex-hacker. Very talented. Better than you, Thomas, and me combined. There are more traps in that program than in a store selling mousetraps. It would take us days to hack into it. Days we don’t have. I’m the only one who can get us the tickets. The guy owes me a favor.”
It wasn’t that Pearce didn’t believe her words, but he didn’t like the option he was presented with. “What if we encounter demons?”
“I’ll still be safer being with you and your vampire friends than going to the event on my own.”
The implication was clear. She would sneak into the event on her own if he didn’t let her tag along. He exchanged a look with Gabriel. “We’ll go in teams, one vampire or hybrid to one Stealth Guardian. I want Zane on my team.” He was the strongest, the fiercest vampire Pearce had ever met. If anybody could scare Daphne into following orders, it was him. He looked at Daphne. “If you leave Zane’s or my side for even a second, I will punish you. Don’t make me regret this.”
“Don’t worry. You’ll barely notice that I’m there.”
“Ha!” As if.
Daphne had already pulled out her cell phone then moved to a quieter corner of the foyer. Pearce heard her talking in hushed tones.
“She’s very resourceful,” Gabriel said.
“So, that’s her, huh?” Patrick asked. When Pearce raised an eyebrow, Patrick said, “Grayson filled me in.”
“Well, you’d better keep it to yourself, or you’ll have to deal with me.”
The hybrid lifted his hands. “I can keep a secret.”
“Hey, meeting is about to start,” Enya called from the open door to what seemed to be the living room.
Daphne was already coming toward them, putting her phone back in her pocket. “He’ll do it. We’ll have to meet him in the morning at the VIP entrance. He’ll get us the right passes then.”
“Great, thanks,” Pearce said, and smiled at her, even though he still didn’t like that she was coming with them.
As everybody made their way toward the living room, Logan waved to him. “A quick word, Pearce.” When Daphne stayed with Pearce, Logan added, “Alone.”
Pearce turned to Daphne. “I’ll be right in.”
Once Daphne was out of earshot, Pearce joined Logan in the small alcove under the stairs. “What?”
“Winter had another vision,” Logan said.
Excitement flooded Pearce.
“It’s the same as four days ago. Exactly the same. Nothing has changed. Nothing at all. All the things you think you did had no effect whatsoever on the outcome of the vision. You’ll still die, and the killer is still Daphne.”
Pearce ran a hand through his hair, trying to think. Why had Winter’s vision not changed? How could that be? “But…”
“You have to face the facts. Winter’s visions are never wrong. Whatever you do, it’ll always end the same way. With you being killed by Daphne.”
~ ~ ~
Daphne hadn’t wanted to eavesdrop. But the moment she’d entered the spacious living room where over a dozen people congregated, many of whom she didn’t know, her bladder reared its head. It always happened when she was nervous. So she’d snuck out again, without being noticed, and walked to her left, seeing a door there, but it turned out that it was a coat closet, so she’d turned around and heard Logan’s warning coming from somewhere underneath the stairs.
She couldn’t see Pearce or Logan, which also meant they couldn’t see her. For a moment she stood there, frozen, then realized that if Pearce or Logan found her here, eavesdropping, they would—given Winter’s vision—assume the worst. Her heart beating into her throat, she managed to return to the living room and found a place to sit in the rear of the room, next to a woman she didn’t know. She could only assume that she was one of the vampires Gabriel had mentioned.
When Pearce and Logan entered the room a few moments later, she was glad that there was no seat available close to her. Logan took a seat next to Enya, and Pearce walked to the front of the room, which was a wall of floor-to-ceiling windows, affording a beautiful view of manicured lawns and more mansions out to the ocean. But Daphne couldn’t enjoy the view. Nor could she concentrate on Pearce’s explanations. He was talking about teams and rules and precautions. About how to best find the dagger, about the man in whose possession it currently was, and how he would be dressed at the cosplay event. Somebody distributed pictures of James Harcott, while Pearce spoke about costumes and weapons, about the importance and urgency of this mission.
But Daphne heard only parts of it. Logan’s words kept repeating in her head as if on an endless loop.
It’ll always end the same way. With you being killed by Daphne.
Why hadn’t Pearce told her? And Winter was the one who’d foretold this? Was that why she’d been so hostile at the compound? Because she knew that Daphne would kill one of them? But how? She had no reason to kill Pearce. And even more importantly, no desire to do such a terrible thing. In the short time she’d known Pearce, she’d come to care for him. Deeply. And to hurt him, kill him, was the farthest thought from her mind. He’d saved her and her brother. Even if she didn’t care about him, she would never be so ungrateful as to hurt her rescuer.
No, she couldn’t allow Pearce to believe that she was a danger to him. She had to tell him what she felt, explain to him that the vision had to be false, even if that meant she had to admit that she eavesdropped.
The discussions dragged on, teams were formed, communications equipment distributed and synched, while Patrick took down notes on clothing and shoe sizes for the costumes that were supposed to be delivered to the house sometime during the night.
“For the four vampires who will need protection from the sun,” Patrick announced, “I’ve got some guys reworking Star Wars costumes to protect you from the sun. I’m afraid you’ll all have to dress up as either a Stormtrooper or a Darth Vader. Sorry.”
A few people in the room chuckled.
“But how are we gonna be able to recognize each other, if we’re in the crowd? I doubt we’ll be the only ones in those costumes,” the woman next to Daphne asked. “I mean, if our entire body is covered, nobody will see our auras.”
“I thought of that too,” Patrick said, and raised his hand. “The Stormtrooper and Darth Vader costumes will have a little pink ribbon on the chest plate.”
“A pink ribbon? Are you kidding me?” A tall bald man with a mean look shot up from the couch.
“Zane, pipe down!” the woman next to Daphne said. “A little pink isn’t gonna kill you.”
“Thanks, Yvette,” Patrick said, then told Zane, “The idea is to make it look natural. The pink ribbon is a symbol for breast cancer awareness. Nobody is gonna question it. But we all will know what it means.” Patrick looked on the piece of paper in his hand. “Okay, then. That’s all from me. I’ll set up two rooms with the costumes as soon as they get here. One for the men, one for the women. I need you all down here at four a.m. sharp to get ready.”
“Thanks, Patrick,” Pearce said, walking up to him. “Everybody knows what they need to do. The housekeeper tells me there’s food in the kitchen for the hybrids and the guardians. The rest of you, I’m sure you’ve already fed before you flew down here. Let’s get some shuteye.”
31
Quietly, Pearce opened the door to the Cloud Room that had been assigned to him and stepped inside. Daphne had retired an hour earlier, and he didn’t want to wake her in case she was already asleep. It turned out she wasn’t, though she’d gotten out of her street clothes and was sitting on the bed, wearing a terrycloth robe.
“Hey,” he said, and gave her a hesitant smile. “I thought you might be asleep already.”
And hadn’t he secretly hoped for exactly that? So he didn’t have to have the conversation he knew he had to have? But it was time for Daphne to know the truth. He didn’t want to go into the next battle carrying a lie on his shoulders. If only he knew how to tell her.
“I can’t sleep.” She swung her legs over the side of the bed and rose.
He walked toward her and stretched out his arms, but she didn’t walk into his embrace. “You’re worried about tomorrow. You should stay here.”
She shook her head. “It’s not that.” She swallowed hard as if her throat was too dry.
He motioned to the door behind him. “If you’re worried about all the vampires in the house, don’t be. They’re good people. They’re not a danger to any of—”
“No, they’re not,” she interrupted, and looked him in the eye. “But you think I am. You think I will kill you. You believe that, don’t you?”
Stunned at hearing the words come from her mouth, Pearce froze for a split second, before his schooled hand made an automatic movement—that of pulling his dagger from its sheath at his waist.
Daphne gasped and slapped her hand over her mouth, tears already welling up in her eyes. “Oh my God, you do. You do think that I’m gonna kill you. You believe Winter’s vision. You believe I’m a murderer.” Sobs tore from her chest and burst over her lips, while tears ran down her cheeks in little rivulets that threatened to become rivers.
His heart broke for her, and he quickly put the dagger aside. He didn’t want to upset her any more than she already was. “How do you know about Winter’s vision?”
“I overheard you and Logan. I didn’t mean to… I just wanted to find the bathroom.” She wailed again. This time the sobs ripped through her body like spasms.
He couldn’t stand it any longer and pulled her into his arms. He pressed her to his chest and rubbed up and down her back, trying to calm her. Was this really the reaction of an assassin upon finding out that her intended victim knew what was going to happen? It couldn’t be. What he felt from Daphne were deep emotions, terrible distress, genuine anguish.
“Please don’t cry, babe,” he murmured into her hair.
She lifted her head and looked at him with tear-stained, puffy eyes. “But how can you even be with me if you believe in this vision? How can you stand the sight of me? How can you sleep with me?”
“How can I not be with you? How can I not share your bed? Make love to you? How can I stop myself from being close to you?” He sighed, and for a moment, he didn’t know how to continue, but he knew that if there was still a chance to change the outcome of the vision, it could only be brought about by the truth. “Winter’s visions are always right, but they can change depending on the actions we take. I’d hoped that when we met, when we got to know each other, that my helping you would change the vision. That whatever makes you kill me in the future will never come to pass.”
