Blood Diamond (4 page)

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Authors: R. J. Blain

Tags: #Fiction, #Urban Fantasy

BOOK: Blood Diamond
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She had a lot of freckles.

I jerked and turned away, preparing to twist out of her grip to beeline for the door. “Would you like my jacket, ma’am?” I asked, reaching for the handle.

“I’d like if you would take a look at my leg, sir,” she murmured in her sinfully husky voice. “To make sure it’s healing properly, you know. It was a silvered bullet.” When she growled at my silence, it sounded more like a purr. My route of escape was cut off as she slithered over me, squirming and twisting around until her back rested against the Red Beast’s door.

Wondering just how I had gotten into such a situation, I tried to figure out how to take a look at her leg without getting a really good view of the rest of her. I closed my eyes, drew a deep breath, counted to twenty, and exhaled. “My apologies, ma’am. Let me wrap it for you.”

While I had been too busy focusing all of my attention on her jade eyes, her nose, and the splattering of freckles on her cheeks, she had managed to toss the first aid kit out of my reach. If I wanted it, I’d need to shift on the seat and reach for it, all while she was on my lap.

At least it gave me something appropriate to worry about. Maybe she didn’t care about her dignity, but I did. I hoped the Red Beast’s video surveillance wasn’t being monitored; if it was, someone—my brother—was getting quite the show.

“You can look, I don’t mind,” she murmured.

Women, I reminded myself, were tricky creatures. If my new friend was anything like other Fenerec females, they were doubly tricky. They also mated for life.

The realization was a bit like having a bucket of cold water dunked over my head. Suzanne had been a water witch; witches didn’t mate for life. Like regular humans, witches married, some divorced, others died. Our vows had been until death. Suzanne was gone, but I hadn’t been able to let go of my vows.

I had wanted to spend my entire life with her, and she was gone. Suzanne’s memory drowned my discomfort and budding desire for the jade-eyed Fenerec using me as a chair. I grabbed the kit, setting it on her stomach out of necessity. After pulling out a pair of Tefla pads and bandages, I tossed the kit onto the dashboard.

Starting at her feet, I worked my way up, unable stop myself from admiring her athletic, tanned, and freckled legs. Without my asking her, she lifted her knee so I could get a better view of the bullet hole in her calf. As I watched, the bruising around the wound yellowed at the edges, with greens and purples darkening to the black of a bad bruise. Instead of the rich red I expected, her blood was black.

The bullet hole wasn’t much worse than the bites on my hand. “It seems to be healing quite well, ma’am.”

My hands didn’t shake too much as I placed the first Tefla pad into place, preparing to wrap it with the bandage.

“My pack was dead before your Inquisitors arrived.”

I dropped both the pad and the bandages in my shock. A chill worked from my chest to my fingers and toes. “Do you know who killed them, ma’am?”

“Humans.
Normals
,” she spat. Her growl rumbled. “Not witch, not wolf. Humans with silver. Not Inquisitors. Not you.”

She shifted on my lap. Her hand touched my waist near my holstered gun. Having seen other Fenerec move, I wouldn’t be able to beat her to the draw even if I wanted to. She snarled, a wordless sound from her chest, wiggling as she pushed away from the door to lean against my chest. Her breath was warm against my throat.

“They said they would deal with any stragglers as they left the park. They’re waiting for you, Inquisitor.”

The scrape of her teeth on my neck sent shivers through me. In that moment, I understood what a hunted rabbit felt like.

At least she hadn’t broken through my skin—yet.

“Just the roads?” I choked out.

She sounded amused when she murmured, “Likely. How else to take such a big truck out of my forest?”

Did a Fenerec nibble on their rabbits after catching them? It was very difficult for me to ignore what she was doing to my throat. I gulped. “Could you please not do that, ma’am?” My voice sounded strained to me.

She laughed, ducking her head to nip my shoulder through my dress shirt. “They’ll find us if we stay here.”

I didn’t know if she meant the Inquisition or those who were responsible for killing my team. It didn’t matter. Either way, I suspected she was right. If I wanted to get us both out of Oconee intact, I needed to make certain to give no one a reason to think we were alive, including my brother.

He’d forgive me, eventually.

But what could I do? I couldn’t leave the Red Beast to be found. There were enough weapons and ammunition stashed in the back to take out a city block. If I couldn’t take the truck, I needed to get rid of it, along with all of its munitions.

“Ma’am, do you like fireworks?”

“Fireworks?” She pulled away from me, lifting her head until I was forced to look her in the eyes. “I do. Why?”

“I thought I’d blow up my brother’s truck. Not much point in looking for us if they think we’re dead. Would you like to help, ma’am?”

Her smile was radiant. “Are you asking me out on a date, sir?”

Women were tricky creatures. I sighed. No matter what I said, I was doomed. It was easier to surrender and pray my wife would forgive me when I confessed at her grave. I shivered.

Suzanne had never believed, not for a single second of her too short life, that anyone deserved to be alone. She was more like a fire witch in that regard. It’d been five years since I had even considered dating a woman. My wife was gone, our oaths to each other severed by death. She wouldn’t mind a single date.

I was the only one left to care.

“If you’d like,” I said, wincing at the dead tone of my voice.

If she noticed, she showed no sign as she pressed close to me again. “Can I press the button?” she asked in her smoky, breathless voice. Our noses touched. There was a yellow tinge to her jade eyes.

“Of course.” Despite myself, I smiled at her enthusiasm.

I’d regret it later when my brother found out, but it wasn’t every day I got to blow a multi-million dollar truck to smithereens.

~~*~~

Before I could wire explosives to the Red Beast, I needed an idea of what I had to work with—and how far I needed to get away from ground zero. I didn’t like pretending I was a qualified bomb technician, but I couldn’t think of another way of preventing the munitions from falling into the wrong hands. Blowing them to bits had the added benefit of making sure the Inquisition couldn’t use them either. I wasn’t going to lose sleep over that.

“What are you doing?” the Fenerec asked, hovering at the downed tailgate as I rummaged through the Red Beast’s covered bed in the glow of the truck’s internal lighting system. The crate containing most of the explosives was buried beneath a gun rack, which I had to unbolt from the truck’s frame.

At least the Inquisition didn’t make it easy to get to the truly dangerous stuff, including the warhead hidden in a compartment somewhere beneath my feet.

“I’m about to find out what types of explosives I have to work with. I want to make certain I have enough C4 or ANFO to get the job done. I’d rather not use too much, as I’d like to avoid flattening the entire forest. This truck was built strong. It’s my brother’s conceit. He dubbed it the Red Beast. When he first got it, it wasn’t red.” I shook my head, trying to imagine how my brother had gotten the Inquisition to repaint the monstrosity in such a vibrant shade when the vehicle had started its life with a far more respectable camouflage motif.

I don’t know why he had the thing built, but it was the demented lovechild of a military and a civilian truck. It was yet another part of my twin’s life I had missed thanks to the Inquisition’s insistence I might pollute my brother’s purity. Magic didn’t work that way, and they should have known better. If I were a Fenerec, and he agreed, maybe I could have done something, but I was a witch. Exposure to a witch didn’t convert someone into a supernatural. For all we were twins, my magic had changed me.

If it hadn’t, I would be six inches shorter and buying suits would be a lot easier. The Inquisition had been hopeful with us; if magic was a genetic trait, they should have been able to find out by researching how my brother and I differed in our DNA.

We were true identical twins, and I delighted in having thwarted their efforts.

“Why can’t we just leave the truck here?” My audience of one crossed her arms over her chest. I paused to glance at her. She had, much to my relief, put on my jacket, which kept her covered—mostly.

I loosened the rack’s final bolt. The whole thing weighed, guns included, at least two hundred pounds. I unloaded the weapons before shoving the emptied frame to the side. Three more bolts and a lock barred me from accessing the explosives. I wondered how much it had cost to have the lock designed to match the Red Beast’s ignition key. “If Normals killed my team like you say, I really don’t want them getting their hands on this stuff.”

Once again, I was aware of the missile beneath me, which was designed to flatten an entire building. To make matters worse, everything needed to launch it was in the truck, assuming the thief had a little bit of knowledge and some time.

“They already have explosives and guns,” she replied bitterly. “What’s a few more?”

I shook my head. “Let’s just say there’s enough guns and explosives in here to easily take out a city block, ma’am. I can’t risk it. I won’t. You know what the difference between the Inquisition and terrorists are?”

“And what difference would that be?”

I turned to meet her glare. She bared her teeth at me in a silent snarl. Yellow rimmed her jade eyes.

I was careful to keep my tone calm and even when I replied, “Terrorists don’t care about who gets in the way. Inquisitors do. I might not like this job, ma’am, but they didn’t like having to hunt their own kind any more than I liked having to come out here to help them do it. That said, people were dying, and it was traced to your pack.”

For a long moment, she glared at me before she whirled around, her growls emerging as low, throaty rumbles. “The humans came hunting us first. We defended our home, our den.”

I sighed. While I hadn’t thought long or hard about that possibility on the drive to Oconee National Forest, it had occurred to me. “Maybe they came hunting you first. While everyone should have the right to defend themselves, that’s not how the Inquisition works. They shoot first and ask questions of the bodies. If you’re valuable and you get in their sights, they’ll keep you alive—maybe, so long as you remain useful. Trust me on that one,” I said, letting my own bitterness enter my voice. “If you want to stay alive, you need to be smarter than that. They don’t care if a pack is forced to defend themselves. They only care if Normals are hurt. It’s stupid; I won’t argue with that at all. But that’s the way it is. These humans that killed your pack are dangerous. The stuff in this truck would let them kill a lot of people.”

Maybe my answer pleased her, or she decided that she wasn’t quite ready to kill me yet, but the Fenerec spun to face me. “And you can make certain these weapons are destroyed?”

“That’s the idea, ma’am. I’ve worked with C4 and ANFO before. The explosion should destroy the rest. Twisted shrapnel won’t do anyone any good.”

“Evelyn.” She wormed up onto the tailgate, her legs dangling off the edge. My jacket clung to her as she wiggled forward.

I turned my attention back to the crate storing the explosives. “Jackson.” Maybe once I got to know her—if I got to know her—I’d tell her my first name. Until then, if my brother could be content calling me by my assumed last name, it’d have to be good enough for the Fenerec. “You’ll want to stay back. There’s quite a bit of silver in here.”

“I can smell it.” Ignoring my warning, she climbed into the back with me, though she gave the guns and the ammunition boxes a wide berth. “What’s your plan?”

While I could have thrown the blocks of C4 without any worry of detonation, I took my time and laid them out in five pound groupings. If I made it look like the explosives were delicate, Evelyn might treat them with care. Once I started wiring in the blasting caps, care and delicacy would protect us both from becoming a bloody mist inside of the Red Beast.

Considering I had chosen to defy the Inquisition for her sake, I had no reason to hide anything from her. We’d live together or die together. “Once I see how much C4 I have to work with, I’ll prep the wiring and blasting caps before rigging a timer and a remote detonator. I won’t wire it until right before we’re ready to get out of here. I don’t know what the Normals are up to, but if I want to get you out of here, I have to fool the Inquisition, which means making it look like someone used seriously heavy weaponry to get through the Red Beast’s armor. I’m going to plant my watch, wallet, and the keys between here and the blasted den, making it look like I got dragged or forced there. Considering there probably isn’t a whole lot left of the bodies, it’s likely they’ll assume I’m with them.”

“And after that?” Evelyn sat down on the edge of another munitions crate, watching the nearby guns like they were going to bite her.

“I know a friend with a boat. We’ll hitch a ride to Canada before catching a flight west.”

“Canada? Why Canada?”

At her incredulous tone, I paused in what I was doing to twist around and arch a brow at her. “The Inquisition doesn’t have a strong hold in Canada. The Fenerec there police themselves. I know some folks who can help you and help you integrate into a new pack.”

She narrowed her eyes at me, once again crossing her arms over her chest. “And what about you?”

I went back to what I had been doing as my face heated up. While my jacket did cover her, the dark color looked good against her tanned skin, and all her splattering of freckles did was draw my eye to places I had no business looking. “After you’re free and clear, I’ll give my brother a call and explain things to him. Who knows? Maybe I’ll take advantage of the chance to get out of the Inquisition while I can. Take up a new name, forge a new identity, and find somewhere quiet to retire. They’re not exactly the nicest of employers. Once you’re in, they don’t like letting you leave in anything other than a casket.”

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