Part 6 (1/2)
”This is the longest he's been MIA,” Dante remarked to no one in particular, running his thumb over the curved edge of his blade. ”What's it been-three, four days?”
Four days, going on five.
But who the h.e.l.l was counting?
Answer: they all were, but no one spoke up to voice the concern that had been running through their ranks of late. As it was, Lucan had to work hard to stifle a surge of venom that rose in him when he thought about the most reclusive member of their cadre.
Tegan had always preferred to hunt alone, but his secretive nature was beginning to wear on the others. He was a wild card, more and more lately, and Lucan, frankly, was finding it hard to trust the guy, not that mistrust was anything new when it came to Tegan. There was bad blood between the two of them, no question, but that was ancient history. It had to be. The war they had both pledged themselves to so long ago was more important than any animosity they held for each other.
Still, the vampire bore close watching. Lucan knew Tegan's weaknesses better than any of the others could; he wouldn't hesitate to make a move if the male stepped so much as a toe out of line.
The lab's doors whisked open again and in came Rio at last, tucking the loose tail of a sleek, white, designer s.h.i.+rt into tailored black pants. Some of the b.u.t.tons were missing from the crisp silk, but Rio wore his posts.e.x dishevelment with the same air of cool that hung over him in everything he did. Under the hank of thick dark hair that swung over his brow, the Spaniard's topaz-colored eyes danced. When he smiled, the tips of his fangs glimmered, not yet receded after the pa.s.sion with his lady had drawn them out.
”I hope you saved a few Rogues for me, my friends.” He rubbed his hands together. ”I'm feeling good, ready to party.”
”Have a seat,” Lucan drawled, ”and try not to bleed all over Gideon's computers.”
Rio's long fingers went up to the crimson rosebud mark at his throat where Eva had apparently bitten him with her blunt human teeth and sipped from his vein. Even though she was a Breedmate, she was still genetically h.o.m.o sapiens. Despite the long years that she and others like her would share through the blood-bond with a mate, none of her kind would grow fangs or take on any other traits of the vampire males. It was a widely accepted practice that a vampire would feed his mate from a self-inflicted gash on his wrist or forearm, but pa.s.sions ran wild in the ranks of the Breed warriors. And in their chosen women. s.e.x and blood were a potent combination-sometimes, too much so.
Grinning, unrepentant, Rio threw himself into a loose sprawl in one of the swivel chairs and leaned back, propping his big bare feet on the clear Lucite console. He and the other warriors began reviewing the previous night 's tallies, exchanging laughs as they one-upped one another and discussed the finer techniques of their profession.
While hunting their enemies gave some of the Breed pleasure, Lucan 's own drive was based in hatred, pure and simple. He didn't try to hide it. He despised everything that the Rogues were and had vowed, long ago, that he would eradicate their kind, or die trying. Some days, he didn't really care what came first.
”Here we go,” Gideon said finally, when the records scrolling on his monitor came to a stop. ”Looks like we hit pay dirt.” ”What've you got?”
Lucan and the others turned their attention to an oversized flat-screen panel above the lab's bank of microprocessors. The faces of the four Rogues slain by Lucan outside the nightclub came up on the display next to those of Gabrielle's cell phone images of the same individuals.
”IID records have all of these down as missing persons. Two from the Connecticut Darkhaven last month, another out of Fall River, and the last one is local. They're all current generation, the youngest wasn't even thirty years old.”
”s.h.i.+t,” Rio said, whistling low. ”Stupid kids.”
Lucan said nothing, felt nothing, for the loss of young lives gone Rogue. They weren't the first, and they sure as h.e.l.l wouldn't be the last. Living in the Darkhavens could seem pretty dull to an immature male with something to prove. The allure of blood and conquest was deeply in-grained, even in the later generations, who were the furthest removed from their savage forebears. If a vampire went looking for trouble, particularly in a city the size of Boston, he generally found it in spades.
Gideon punched a quick series of commands on his computer keyboard, bringing up more photos from the database. ”Here are the last two records. This first individual is a known Rogue, repeat offender here in Boston, although he's apparently been keeping low under the radar for more than three months. That is, he was, until Lucan smoked him in the alley over the weekend.”
”And what about him?” Lucan asked, eyeing the last remaining image, that of the only Rogue who 'd managed to elude him outside the club. His photo record came up in the form of a video still, presumably captured during some sort of interrogation session, based on the restraints and electrodes the vampire was wearing. ”How old is this image?”
”About six months,” Gideon replied, calling up the date stamp. ”Came out of one of the West Coast operations.”
”L.A.?”
”Seattle. But according to the file, L.A.'s got a warrant for him, too.”
”Warrants,” Dante scoffed. ”f.u.c.king waste of time.”
Lucan had to agree. For most of the vampire nation in the United States and abroad, enforcement of the law and apprehension of individuals gone Rogue was governed by specific rules and procedures. Warrants were written, arrests were made, interrogations were conducted, and, given ample evidence and due process, convictions were handed down. It was all very civilized. And rarely effective.
While the Breed and its Darkhaven populations were organized, motivated, and mired in layers of bureaucracy, their enemies were rash and unpredictable. And unless Lucan's gut was wrong, after centuries of anarchy and general chaos, the Rogues were gearing up to recruit.
If they weren't already months into the process.
Lucan stared at the image on screen. In the video still, the captured Rogue was strapped to an upright metal table, stripped naked, his head shaved bald to better accommodate the currents that were likely being sent into his skull during his questioning.
Lucan felt no sympathy for the torture the Rogue had undergone. Interrogations of that nature were often necessary, and like a human jacked up on heroin, a vampire afflicted with Bloodl.u.s.t could take ten times the pain of his Breed brethren without breaking.
This Rogue was big, with a heavy brow and thick, primitive features. He was snarling in the video frame, his long fangs gleaming, his amber eyes wild around the elliptical slashes of his fixed pupils. He was draped with wires from the top of his huge head and corded neck to his muscle-girded chest and hammerlike arms.
”a.s.suming ugly's not a crime, what did Seattle bust him for?” ”Let's see what we've got.” Gideon spun back to his bank of computers and brought a record up on another screen. ”Picked him up for trafficking-weapons, explosives, chemicals. Oh, this guy's a b.l.o.o.d.y charmer. Into some real nasty s.h.i.+t.”
”Any idea whose arms he's been running?”
”Nothing listed here. They didn't get that far with him, evidently. The record states he broke out of containment right after these images were taken. He killed two of his guards during the escape.”
And now he'd escaped again, Lucan thought grimly, wis.h.i.+ng to h.e.l.l he had popped the SOB when he had him in his sights. He didn't tolerate failure well, least of all in himself.
Lucan glanced to Niko. ”You ever run across this guy?”
”No,” said the Russian, ”but I'll check him out with my contacts, see what I can find.”
”Get on it.”
Nikolai gave a curt nod and headed out of the tech lab, already dialing someone on his cell phone.
”These are d.a.m.ning pictures,” Conlan said, peering over Gideon's shoulder at the photos Gabrielle had taken during the slaying outside the nightclub. The warrior blew out a curse. ”Bad enough humans have witnessed some of these Rogue slayings over the years, but now they're pausing to take snapshots?”
Dante put his feet down with a thump, stood up, and started pacing, as if he was growing restless with the inactivity of the meeting. ”Whole world up there thinks they're friggin' paparazzi.”
”The guy who took these shots must've p.i.s.sed himself real good when he saw two-hundred pounds of Breed warrior gunning for him,” Rio added. Grinning, he looked at Lucan. ”Did you bother to scrub his memory first, or did you just take the sucker out on the spot?”
”The human who witnessed the attack that night was female.” Lucan stared into the faces of his brethren, revealing none of his feelings about the news he was about to impart. ”Turns out she's a Breedmate.”
”Madre de Dios,” Rio swore, raking his fingers through his dark hair. ”Breedmate-you're sure?”
”She bears the mark. I saw it with my own eyes.”
”What did you do with her? Cristo, you didn't... ”
”No,” Lucan replied sharply, agitated by the implication in the Spaniard's hedging tone. ”I didn't harm the woman. There is a line that even I won't cross.”
He hadn't claimed Gabrielle as his own, either, although he 'd come d.a.m.ned close to it that night in her apartment. Lucan clamped his teeth together, a wave of dark hunger hitting him when he thought about how tempting Gabrielle had looked, curled up and dreaming in her bed. How b.l.o.o.d.y sweet she had tasted against his tongue... .
”What will you do with her, Lucan?” This time the concern was coming from Gideon's direction. ”We can't very well leave her topside for the Rogues to find her. She's certain to have gotten their attention when she snapped these pictures.”
”And if the Rogues should realize she's a Breedmate... ” Dante added, his trailing comment drawing grim nods from the other warriors.