Vampires In America: Raphael Part 18

Cyn gave him a mocking smile. "Worried, Duncan?"

"Always, Ms. Leighton," he said solemnly. "We are about to depart."

She closed the hatch and walked over to him. "How close does Raphael have to get to the guard?"

"Not close at all."

"So we have the big guy work his magic, and we see what happens. Whatever it is, it'll be the sign for the other vamps to move, so-"

"This part I understand, Ms. Leighton. Probably better than you do."

"Hey, no contest here. You guys go ahead and do your thing, I'll do mine."

"And what's that?"

"What I was hired to do. I'm going to find Alexandra."

By the time they joined the rest of the group, there was so much antic.i.p.ation in the air the vamps were all but bouncing up and down with it. When Raphael nodded to Duncan, the whole pack of them took off like a shot, fading into the darkness and leaving only a slight breeze to stir the leaves in their wake. Cyn stood by the cars, her eyes searching the night and finding nothing. She sighed thinking about her own long climb up the hill, when some instinct made her stiffen and turn sharply. Raphael stood behind her, silver flashing from beneath half-closed eyelids. Before she could take two steps away, he was on her, one powerful hand reaching out to grasp her jacket, lifting her against the cool metal of the big SUV as his mouth came down on hers in a hard, fierce kiss.

Cyn couldn't help responding, but she made it anger as well as pa.s.sion, smashing her mouth against his and biting as much as kissing. When he pulled away, their blood mingled on her lips, and he leaned forward, licking it off with one lazy swipe of his tongue. He pushed himself against her, letting her feel his body's response to her closeness. "Never doubt that I want you, my Cyn," he said harshly.

She sucked in air, fighting the ache crushing her heart, choking away her breath. "Put me down," she whispered.

He eased her down slowly, but didn't back away by even an inch. She could still feel the press of his body, the tension in his muscles, the firm shaft of his erection. "You don't want me," she said breathlessly. "You just want to f.u.c.k me."

She put both hands on his chest and pushed, knowing it was useless unless he chose to let her go. He freed her and she walked away without looking back.

Chapter Forty-six.

She stood once again on the hillside overlooking the compound, concealed in the shadows beneath the eucalyptus trees. Duncan stood next to her, Raphael slightly ahead. The other vampires had vanished into the night, presumably deploying around the other house, carrying out whatever plan Duncan had devised. At some invisible signal, Raphael shifted his concentration to the lone gate guard below. It was not a human guard this time, not the Judge Judy fan from the afternoon, but a thick-bodied vampire. Cyn couldn't see well enough to be sure, but she thought it might even be Tommy from the other night at the ranch house. She felt kind of sorry about that. Tommy hadn't been a bad guy, really. Or maybe her perception was skewed by the comparison to Albin.

She heard a rattle as the big gate began to move, drawing her attention back to the present. The guard stood motionless until the gate was fully opened, then he walked on through and down the driveway toward the house. Cyn had expected his movement to be robot-like, mechanical, like in the movies when someone was forced to do something against his will. But Raphael's control was such that the guard walked normally, almost carefree, as if he was just taking a stroll. She glanced at Raphael, but could see only that model-perfect profile. His gaze was riveted below.

The guard climbed the few steps to the double front doors and reached for the handles. He pushed them open, throwing both doors wide and making a grand entrance, exactly as Raphael would no doubt have done. Cyn flinched automatically, but nothing happened. The house was completely dark as the guard disappeared inside. She had a moment of doubt, but only a moment ... before the house exploded in a fury of light and sound, shaking the ground beneath her feet and filling the dark sky with brilliant color. Car alarms began going off up and down the street and debris rained down in a wide circle. Lights flashed on all over the neighborhood as people ran out of their houses to find out what the noise was.

Cyn swallowed hard. "Would that have killed him?" she asked Duncan quietly.

"Yes, it would have," he replied somberly.

Raphael said nothing, only stared down at the inferno.

"That will attract a lot of attention really fast," she said.

"It will," Duncan agreed. "But we can use that."

She turned to leave and heard Raphael say, "Duncan."

The vampire lieutenant stopped her with a touch on her arm. "Elke will meet you below. Do not go in without her."

She glared at him, but he antic.i.p.ated her protest.

"We do not doubt your skill, Ms. Leighton. But these are vampires we face. Even Alexandra, as delicate she may appear, is Vampire and this will have been difficult for her. If they were kind, she may be nothing more than exhausted. But if not, it could be much worse. Take Elke with you and be careful."

Cynthia grinned in the orange glow of the fire. She had no intention of hanging onto Elke's coattails, but she did appreciate the thought. "Thanks, Duncan. See you when it's over."

She gave Raphael's stone figure a final glance, then shrugged and headed off into the darkness. She had a job to do.

Chapter Forty-seven.

Raphael heard Cyn leave, but his focus was on the movement all around him as he ordered his vampires into battle. Duncan joined him and the two of them slipped away beneath the trees, moving faster than thought. No leaves rustled in their pa.s.sing, no small animals scurried in the underbrush. The two vampires were shadows in the night, forgotten before they were gone.

They emerged before the heavy metal gate of Pushkin's true compound, Raphael striding boldly from beneath the thick trees to stand gazing up at the old house. He closed his eyes, feeling the heart of every vampire that beat within, reaching out with his tremendous strength to touch each and every one of them with dread, with the certain knowledge of impending death. Howls sounded in the night as weaker souls among them cowered in fear, their terror of Raphael far exceeding the flimsy power at Pushkin's command. Raphael's own vampires roared in response, rattling the stones of the very walls before him with their rage. He raised his arms, feeling the power build within him, feeding on the life force of his foes, weakening them even as he grew stronger and prepared to attack.

"Pushkin!" It was thought more than word, a challenge sent into the mind of every vampire present. He felt Pushkin respond, a combination of terror and denial, knowledge that his plan had failed and vengeance stood at his very gates.

Raphael exerted his will and those gates were torn asunder. His vampires poured into the compound, and guttural shouts filled the night, battle roars punctuated by the death cries of creatures who'd thought themselves immortal. There were no neutral parties here tonight; Raphael could afford to spare no one who had joined in challenging him. He plunged into the fray, heedless of any danger, his power surrounding him, brushing aside attacks without conscious will, his mind focused solely on the one who had dared oppose him, who had broken his oath of fealty and would now pay with his eternal d.a.m.nation. He laughed in exultation as he came upon the house, the rush of his full power better than any human drug, the joy of its unfettered release expanding his heart with every beat, gorging his lungs with every breath. He could feel Pushkin huddled inside, too fearful to join his forces in battle, weakening them by his own cowardice.

Raphael flowed through the door, following the stink of the other vampire's fear as he pounded up stairs and strode unerringly down halls, brushing aside the flimsy illusions that were all Pushkin offered in defense. The final door fell before him, revealing his enemy crouched fearfully within his stronghold, a young woman dead at his feet, her blood still running from the coward's chin, a last ditch attempt to buy strength enough to survive. Raphael regarded him with disdain.

"You thought to buy your freedom with such a meager life, Pushkin?"

The Russian vampire snarled like a trapped animal, pushing himself deeper into the corner, all semblance of human appearance gone, leaving only the beast within.

"You have forsaken your long life, old friend, but you may buy an ounce of mercy from me yet. Where is she?"

Pushkin's eyes widened and he began to laugh, his mouth gaping open like a fool. He stopped suddenly, madness in his eyes. "She is dead by now, my lord," he said in a sly voice. His eyes cleared for a moment and he looked down at his b.l.o.o.d.y clothes, frowning without comprehension. When he looked up, he stared at Raphael as if wondering why he was there, before the madness took him once again. "Albin has killed her by now, her and your new lover. She escaped me the other night, but no longer. So sad, Raphael. Nothing left for you."

Raphael knew it wasn't true and still he howled with rage, his power throwing Pushkin down and crushing him to the floor as the traitorous vampire squealed in pain and terror. His limbs strained outward until his joints snapped with audible cracks of bone, and blood gushed from his body. Raphael drove a huge fist into Pushkin's chest and crushed his beating heart, holding the rebel's terrified gaze as, with a small exertion of his will, the heart burst into impossible flame. Pushkin screamed in agony as his body followed, incinerating from within, the fire spreading until nothing was left of the famed Pushkin but a pile of greasy ash.

Raphael stood, brushing his hands in disgust, his mind already reaching out, calling for the one who made his own blood burn.

Cyn waited until Raphael's vampires were gone, until they'd all rushed off to do battle. Elke lingered a moment longer than the others, clearly torn between waiting for Cyn and the battle she could hear already underway. She paced back and forth, trading long glaring looks between the trees, where Cyn should have appeared by now, and the sounds of growing violence at Pushkin's lair in the distance. She finally gave a loud curse, threw up her hands in disgust and was gone, speeding toward her fellow vampires and the promised bloodshed.

Cyn gave her a two minute head start, which was probably not necessary, given the speed with which vampires moved. But she wanted no interference in what she was about to do. Vampire or not, she didn't need a f.u.c.king baby-sitter.

Taking the route through the trees she'd identified on her earlier reconnaissance, she followed the line of pale wall, barely visible now beneath the moonless sky. Water from the earlier rains dripped steadily from the leaves overhead, and the ground was soft and wet, pitch black beneath the thick branches. On the street far below, she could hear sirens winding up the hill, fading in and out as the fire trucks took the sharp curves leading to the burning house. The fire was a deep, steady rumble that shot gold sparks into the black sky. She circled around the house, glad for the dark night, stopping when she saw the red-tiled roof of the small guest cottage jutting over the wall. And then she waited, listening.

The darkness was alive as Raphael and his vampires swarmed the compound. The sounds of battle filled the air, the roars of angry vampires, grunts of pain and screams of terror, as Pushkin's cohorts discovered they were not the only, nor even the most dangerous, ones hunting tonight.

Cyn ran for the wall and leaped up to grip the edge, the Uzi riding her back as she spider-crawled to the top. She didn't pause this time, but rolled up and over, immediately dropping down to land behind the cottage with a jarring crunch that sent sharp spikes shooting through her shin bones. Once on the ground, she crouched, listening. Leaving her thermal goggles in place and bringing the Uzi down in front of her, she edged closer to the cottage wall and peered around it. The rear of the main house seemed deserted. Apparently, none of Pushkin's vamps had thought to make a run for it. Or maybe they hadn't had time to think about it before Raphael and his forces were upon them. She wondered if he'd destroy all of Pushkin's men. It seemed likely. Not that she cared either way, as long as that b.a.s.t.a.r.d Albin was one of the dead ones.

With a mental slap to the head, she focused her attention on her own situation. If Alexandra was still inside this cottage, it was unlikely she was alone. A quick scan of the yard showed nothing. Even a vampire showed on thermal. Not as brightly perhaps, but they registered nonetheless. She rounded the corner and started down the long side of the guest house, past the boarded up windows. She ducked quickly when she heard movement inside, a bare sc.r.a.pe of metal, nothing more. But it confirmed her suspicion that someone was in the cottage. She frowned. This was all a little too easy. Pushkin had to know by now that his plan had failed, so why wouldn't he have tried to hold Alexandra as a bargaining chip of some sort? A last ditch attempt to save his treacherous hide.

She inched up to the next corner and took a darting look out and back. The door had a single window, but no light was showing inside the cottage either. d.a.m.n. The vampires' night vision gave them a distinct advantage. Her night-vision goggles helped, but left her incredibly vulnerable. If her enemy did something as simple as turning on a light, she'd be completely blinded. It would last only seconds, but seconds would be enough if a vampire was waiting inside. On the other hand, would they expect a human to come through that door? Raphael himself dismissed humans as useless even though he employed a number of human guards on his estate. She crept over to the entrance as quietly as possible and drew a deep breath.

Cynthia hit the door with her body, slamming it open and rolling inside in a single movement. As she rolled, she scanned the room. Two people, one large, one small. Correction. Two vampires, their eyes glowing hot. She kept moving, coming up behind a chair of some sort.

"Well, isn't this a surprise." The voice sounded familiar. Cyn looked around the chair to see the larger figure reaching out. She braced for movement, recognized what he was doing and tore the goggles off just in time. The vampire hit the switch on a standing lamp, and a dim, yellow glow lit the small room.

"I'd really expected Raphael," Albin said. "Though I must admit, Cynthia, I had hoped to meet you again before this was over." He stood on the far side of the room, Alexandra half sitting on a rumpled daybed, her arm held in one of his thick, pale hands. The female vamp was gagged, her hands bound with wide metal bands linked to a heavy chain running to an eyehole bolt set directly into the concrete floor. The chain was long enough that she could reach what looked like a small bathroom in the far corner and a couple of feet in front of the bed, but little else. Heavy curtains covered the boarded up windows to the left and Cyn was crouched behind a large, overstuffed chair which was the only other furniture in the room.

"There, Alexandra, you see how little Raphael cares about you? He sends this puny human to rescue you, while he busies himself elsewhere."

After more than a week of imprisonment, the pet.i.te vampire was definitely worse for wear. Her elegant, peach satin gown was dirty and torn, the ruffles limp and the underpinnings ripped away. Delicate white skin appeared pasty and unhealthy rather than pampered, her face and arms bearing obvious signs of mistreatment. Her eyes, when she looked at Cyn, showed exhaustion and an almost confused fear, as if she couldn't imagine how this had happened to her.

"You seem to have recovered nicely from our encounter the other night, Cynthia," the red-haired vamp said, drawing Cyn's attention. "I confess I'm happy to see it. I do like my toys to last a while." He gave her a vicious grin. "I heard the explosion. Tell me, did Pushkin's grand plan work?"

Cyn stared at him. He stared back, studying her reaction. "No, I think not," he said finally. "I told the Russian it wouldn't. But he dismissed me, just as Raphael did," he added with a snarl.

"You know your problem, Albin?" Cyn interjected.

He gave her a look of mocking inquiry.

"You talk too much." She whipped the Uzi up from behind the chair and emptied the clip into the big vampire, all but severing his head as he fell away from the horrified Alexandra. Cyn didn't wait, but ran over, stake in hand, and stabbed downward, taking the convulsing vampire in the heart. She stood and immediately moved back, uncertain of Alexandra, wanting to get beyond the chain's reach.

Albin's body decomposed with amazing speed. She'd seen Matias on the video playback, but watching it happen before her own eyes was incredible. There was no other word for it. She swallowed against the bile trying to choke her, then blindly ejected the empty magazine on the Uzi and slapped in a fresh one, before turning to Alexandra.

The female vampire had scooted as far away from Albin as possible, holding her skirts away from the gore in a fastidious movement that was completely out of place in the dismal cottage. Her dark eyes lifted to regard Cyn.

"Alexandra?" Cyn confirmed unnecessarily. She spoke in a low, soothing voice.

Alexandra stared blankly for several seconds. She nodded.

"My name is Cynthia Leighton, Alexandra. Raphael hired me to find you." Alexandra's eyes closed in a slow blink, her chin dropping to her chest in what looked like relief.

Cyn lifted the strap of the Uzi over her head and laid it on the chair. Her hands raised in the universal gesture of peace, she stepped away from the gun, maintaining eye contact with the eerily calm Alexandra. No matter how calm she seemed, how completely harmless, she was still, as Duncan had pointed out, Vampire. She could overpower Cyn and do a lot of damage before Cyn managed to escape. a.s.suming she did.

"I don't want to hurt you, Alexandra. I'd like to get that gag off of you, and maybe those chains, if I can. But ... I don't want you to hurt me either, okay?"

Alexandra nodded silently, her eyes large in the yellow artificial light.

"Are you hungry?" Cyn asked the most important question. "Have they fed you?"

Brief contempt filled Alexandra's eyes before she nodded.

"Okay." Cyn walked over slowly, watching the vampire watch her. When she got close enough, she pulled a small knife from her belt, holding it up for Alexandra to see. "I'm going to cut the cloth," she explained, flipping the blade out. Alexandra studied the gleaming edge, then nodded acceptance.

Cynthia slid her fingers beneath the gag, a little behind the woman's ear, inserted the sharp knife and gave a quick tug, slicing the thin cloth easily and stepping back. Alexandra collapsed forward with a sobbing breath, quietly rubbing her abraded mouth and cheeks with her bound hands. "Thank you," she managed to whisper.

"No problem." Cynthia studied the much smaller woman, surprised to find herself actually feeling sorry for her. She'd expected to hate her, to hate the woman who seemed to hold Raphael's heart so firmly in her delicate hands. But she couldn't hate this helpless creature. Oh, she was beautiful to be sure. Cyn could see the beauty even under the bruises, the grime, the terror of nearly a week at the mercy of the brutal Albin. But she was too pitiful to hate. She was small and delicate and lovely, and utterly helpless. Everything that Cyn was not. She sighed.

"Alexandra?" The vampire looked up, pink tears streaking her dirty face. "Did Albin have a key or something for those cuffs?" Alexandra raised her gaze to the door and Cyn turned around. There on a hook, barely out of the prisoner's reach, hung the keys to her freedom. Albin had indeed been a s.a.d.i.s.tic b.a.s.t.a.r.d.

Cyn grabbed the keys, but hesitated before unlocking the banded cuffs. "You won't hurt me, will you?"

"No," Alexandra said in a low voice, raw with strain. "I have no desire to end my days in this filthy place."

Cyn unlocked the cuffs. They fell away with a jangle of heavy metal. Alexandra seemed to swell, as if the chains had been draining her physical strength. She stood and a shudder pa.s.sed through her entire body. Where someone else might have stretched their arms widely, or rolled their shoulders, the female vampire sort of ... vibrated. Then she looked at Cyn expectantly.

Cyn drew a deep breath. "Okay, let's-"

"Cyn!" Raphael's mental roar cut off her next words. She spun around almost without thinking, turning toward him, unable to resist his call. Running out through the open door and around the back of the house, she found him striding through the shadows of the overgrown yard like an avenging angel, his long coat billowing behind him, his silver-frosted eyes twin stars come to earth. The very air trembled in his wake, his power riding ahead of him to brush obstacles from his path with mindless efficiency. He was terrible in his beauty, and a painful longing squeezed her heart.

"Raphael." She said it softly, but his gaze riveted to her at once, his long legs bringing him to her side in two strides.

"Cyn," he took hold of her arms, searching her with his eyes, looking for injuries before he pulled her into his embrace, clutching her against his solid warmth. "My Cyn."

"Raphael, I found-"

"Raphael."

Raphael stiffened and looked across the yard to where Alexandra stood like a pale shadow. Cyn stepped awkwardly out of his embrace and watched as the smaller woman came closer, her dark gaze never leaving the vampire lord.

"Alexandra," he said.

She walked right up to him and stood perfectly still. Then her shoulders slumped and Raphael stepped forward to wrap his arms around her in a gesture that began with affection and ended in a strangely formal embrace.

Cynthia watched for awhile in silence, and then walked back toward the cottage. Before she rounded the corner, she glanced back and met Raphael's gaze over Alexandra's head. She saw sorrow there, and regret. She didn't know what he saw when he looked at her. She turned away at last, returning to the cottage only long enough to retrieve her gun, then climbed over the wall and disappeared into the trees.

Chapter Forty-eight.

Cynthia slept for the next two days, waking only long enough to go to the bathroom, drink some water, take another sleeping pill and go back to bed. She knew it was unhealthy, knew she was avoiding dealing with real life and was probably deeply depressed. Too bad. The latest pill kicked in and she drifted into another dreamless sleep.

On the third morning, she woke up feeling disgusted with herself and, perhaps more importantly, really needing a shower. So she got up.