Seth swept past in a breeze. Hurry. The others awake.
Ami stared, wide-eyed, at the bomb he carried as angry shouts erupted inside the house.
Get out of here, Seth urged as he placed it on the grass a few yards away. Now.
Sarah darted in and picked up the struggling vampire’s shoulders. Roland grabbed his flailing feet, which kicked hard enough to kill a mortal, and the two raced through the trees.
Ami made no sound as Marcus lifted her into his arms and urged her legs around his waist. She wrapped her arms around his neck, hands clutching the Glocks in unyielding grips. As Marcus hurried after Sarah and Roland, moving so quickly the forest around them blurred, Ami stared over his shoulder at the sunny clearing.
Through the foliage, she saw Seth’s form shift. Enormous wings burst through the back of his coat.
Ami gasped and lost sight of him as trees closed in around them.
Marcus took them far away in a matter of seconds, dodging trees Ami couldn’t even see at this speed. The blue sky above them burst into blinding light as thunder rumbled after them. Brilliant golden flames reached toward the heavens as shrieks and howls of agony swelled in a macabre chorus.
Ami buried her face in Marcus’s neck. Warm wind buffeted them, carrying with it more cries.
Not one of the vampires would survive. Marcus had told her that napalm-B would burn longer and at far higher temperatures than original napalm. The sticky substance would also cling to the vampires’ skin like glue and was just as difficult to shed.
Even immortals could not regenerate quickly enough to combat such a fire.
Seth! she cried mentally. Had the flames taken him, too?
I’m fine, sweetheart, he murmured.
Is he all right, Ami? Marcus asked.
Yes.
Marcus’s forward momentum slowed to mortal speeds. When he stopped, Ami unlocked her ankles and allowed her feet to slide down to the ground.
Several emergency response vehicles—fire trucks, an ambulance, unmarked cars with detachable sirens—had joined the van Ami and the others had left behind. Chris Reordon stood beside one of the cars, wearing a dark jacket that read DEA on the back and sleeves in large white letters.
Curses erupted as Roland and Sarah struggled to restrain the vampire king beneath a tree near the van.
Chris waved to the other vehicles.
Engines roared to life and sirens blared as they peeled away.
Marcus hurried over to lend Roland and Sarah a hand. Had they been allowed to kill the king, they would’ve had no problem. But they needed whatever information he could give them.
Ami held onto her Glocks in case the vampire managed to break free.
Chris strode forward and drew a familiar weapon. When he was close enough to ensure he wouldn’t hurt any of the immortals, he fired. A tranquilizer dart struck the vampire in the chest. His struggles ceased as his muscles went limp and his eyelids closed.
“Thank you,” Sarah said breathlessly.
All three immortals released their holds and let the vamp drop to the ground in a heap at their feet.
“No problem,” Chris said. “Glad to see you all made it out safely.” He handed Marcus the gun. “In case you need it later. Dr. Lipton duplicated the serum and made us several darts. Seth is waiting for me at the clearing and says he’ll meet you at the network.”
Marcus took the weapon. “Thanks.”
Chris returned to his car and, tires churning up dirt, sped away.
Roland slid open the van’s side door and tossed the vamp inside like old luggage. Ami holstered her weapons, climbed in, and got behind the wheel, since the sun wouldn’t harm her.
While Marcus settled on the seat behind her, she waited for relief to fill her. They had all made it out unharmed as Chris had said. Another uprising, hopefully the last uprising, had been halted in its tracks.
Roland waited for Sarah to enter, then sat beside her, and slid the door closed.
But those cries, those shrieks of agony ...
Ami thought they would haunt her for the rest of her life.
Chapter 18
Marcus had never visited the network headquarters in this region. The need had simply never arisen. But he had to admit he was impressed.
From the outside, the building possessed not one characteristic that would encourage a second glance. Set far back from the highway behind a thick wall of evergreens, it boasted only a single story. The windowless tan brick exterior appeared aged and worn. Had it lived and breathed, one would have expected to hear nothing from it but sighs of weariness.
The front door lacked windows that might allow peeks inside, though who would wander back this way he didn’t know. It sort of reminded Marcus of a storage facility for a package delivery company: wide, uninteresting, with a large parking lot behind it.
Inside was a whole other story.
Roland, Sarah, Marcus, and Ami headed for the front entrance. The immortals still wore their protective suits, and Roland carried the vampire king—covered with a blanket—over one shoulder.
Upon opening the plain, wooden door, Marcus discovered it was lined with steel and as thick and heavy as the door of a bank vault.
The small vestibule inside was enclosed in bulletproof glass he would bet could deflect a sodding heat-seeking missile. Beside a second door’s handle rested a key card swiper and a keypad for entering a security code.
Glad to be out of the sun, he pulled off his mask and gloves and tucked them in his belt. Sarah did the same, then helped Roland remove his.
Ami’s hand slipped into Marcus’s while he peered through the glass. The lobby was modern, minimalist, a collection of grays that boasted a single gathering of comfortable-looking chairs in a U-shape with large, shade-loving plants on side tables for color.
Three guards sat behind a granite-topped security desk across from the door. A dozen more served sentry duty at the elevators and staircase behind the desk. All were heavily armed.
A buzz sounded.
Sarah gripped the doorknob and pushed the glass door open. One of the men seated behind the desk rose and walked around it. Rather than a generic security guard’s uniform, he wore the standard black fatigues of a Second. Tall, thin, with broad shoulders and closely cropped auburn hair, he bore an air of authority that told Marcus he was no mere security guard. He was one of Chris’s higher-ups.
“Aren’t you going to ask us for ID?” Marcus inquired.
The man grinned. “No need. We’ve been expecting you. And even if we weren’t, I’ve been doing this long enough to recognize immortals when I see them.” He held out his hand. “John Wendleck.”
Marcus shook his hand. “Marcus Grayden.” He motioned to the others. “Roland Warbrook. His wife Sarah. And Amiriska.”
“It’s an honor to meet you all,” he said and waved toward the elevators. “If you’ll come with me ...”
The guards posted on either side of the two elevator doors watched their approach with eyes full of fascination.
Marcus nodded to them.
Smiles broke out all around.
“Honor to meet you, sir,” one offered. Several seconded the notion.
Roland, Marcus noticed, did not receive the same greeting. Most network employees tended to fear him because of the way he had terrorized anyone sent to serve as his Second.
Sarah and Ami both received warm greetings and downright flirty smiles until Roland’s eyes flared amber and he bared his fangs. Many an Adam’s apple bobbed then as the men swallowed with trepidation.
For once, Marcus supported his friend’s show of temper.
The elevator they entered was large, like those one might find in an opera house. According to the buttons inside, there were five subterranean floors.