Blood Judgment (Judgment Series) (45 page)

In the three days since she’d told him about her pregnancy he’d made several attempts to talk with her. Avoiding him killed her, but she had to do it. She wouldn’t keep torturing herself over whether or not he could find it in himself to openly love her.

She closed her hand around the jasper in the choker and they warmed in her hand. She felt their power. Why couldn’t he open himself to his true feelings? What had caused him to fear loving someone? Something he kept hidden, maybe even from himself. He cared deeply for her, the stones proved it. He wanted her, wanted to be with her, yet he couldn’t get past his own emotions.

What in the world was she going to do? He was her mate and she loved him. But more to the point, his son slumbered in her womb. Without a doubt, the baby was male. Females didn’t throw the mother’s body off enough to cause the wretched sickness she struggled with.

She couldn’t deny him access to his son once the baby was born. And she didn’t know what she was going to do after the birth. She had no one to care for the baby when she had to go back to work. Traditionally, a female’s only role was to be a good mate and mother her children. But she didn’t have that option.

She would have to come up with a plan. She didn’t have any other choice. Taking care of herself and her child, no matter what happened between her and Julian, was paramount.

But after tomorrow night, it all might be taken out of her hands anyway. She’d overheard the males talking. Their orders had been greeted with enthusiasm. But she’d heard enough to know failure meant death to every one of them.

She swallowed hard.

Oh, dear God, if you care anything at all for our race, please keep them safe. Bring Julian home alive
.

FRAMER SIPPED his coffee and wrestled with his conscience. The virus was still off, but the latest batch had almost hit the mark.

On the practical side, it was in the best interest of the human population, but it was an underhanded and cruel way of eliminating the vampire problem. But there wasn’t really a humane way to go about it. It wasn’t like the Administration hadn’t considered other options. They had and none of them had been feasible. That didn’t make it any easier, though. It was wrong and that was the bottom line.

Once the virus was perfected and used, there would only be one acceptable course of action.

The vampires would know, or at least suspect, they’d been set up, but they would no longer be a menace.

Still, it was damn hard to accept, much less take a part in it. Maybe he had a shred of decency left, after all. But even so, there was nothing he could do except follow orders like the puppet he’d become.

Stepping down and losing his pension wasn’t an option. Besides, whoever took his role would have the same order to carry out. No, he would goosestep along and carry out his part in the genocide of an entire species.

Did it matter if it was under his watch or someone else’s? The end result would be the same.

He flipped through the latest reports. Paralysis was a common end-stage result and, now, some of the test subjects had developed extreme anxiety and fear along with excessive salivation.

Proof of progress was right down the hall where a young male suffered in the throes of the virus.

Framer pushed his chair back and stood. Time to make his rounds. He checked on the test subject frequently to judge the effectiveness of the drug and, in all honesty, as a punishment for himself.

He wished he’d never become involved with this little project. Wished he knew nothing of what was going on. Wished he would stop thinking about what was going to happen once the full force was unleashed on the vampire community.

Shit
. Wishing wasn’t going to assuage his conscience one bit. He left his office and shuffled toward the heavy steel door protecting them from the little demon locked inside.

He stopped at the cell and moved to the single, reinforced window.

The slobbering youngster huddled in the corner, frothing and growling like a rabid dog. He’d torn long, bleeding furrows in his arms and neck. His dirty t-shirt was soaked with blood at his stomach. Must have clawed there too.

His vacant stare was unfocused, and as Framer watched, he threw himself off the floor as though he’d been fired from a cannon. He crashed against the door and dropped in a heap. A moment later, he picked himself up and attacked again with fangs bared and strings of saliva running from his mouth and dripping onto his shirt.

He was raving mad all right. Nothing but a bullet in his mushed-up brain could stop the insane killing machine he’d turned into over the last few days.

Framer had observed the restrained youngster receive the injection. He’d felt bad then. He felt worse now.

The terrified juvenile had begged to go home, pleaded for mercy. But there had been none. He’d been processed and branded even though he would never leave the facility alive. It had been necessary to keep the technicians from knowing too much about the experiments.

With a sick knot in his stomach, Framer wobbled back to his office. He locked the door against unwelcome subordinates. Right now, he needed to numb-out for a while and give his conscience a rest. He crossed to his desk and plopped into his chair.

He slipped a small bottle from his desk drawer. Strictly against the rules, but he needed it to cope.

A scream from down the hallway forced his eyes closed. The juvenile. Suffering from mutated rabies.

If Hell existed, he was surely going to end up there. He uncapped the bottle, sniffed the contents and, not bothering with a glass, tipped the bottle and spilled a good amount of burning liquid down his throat.

Chapter Forty-six

THE FOLLOWING night was warm and clear when Julian climbed out of Ashton’s car. His heart thumped a hard triple-meter beat.

Going back to the hunt club was more than enough to give him cold sweats. Being there to destroy the operation added an adrenaline rush like he’d never experienced before.

Which was good. He needed to work, needed the distraction before he took his frustration out on himself. His arms couldn’t take any more damage until his previous work had time to heal.

And the compulsion to cut was driving him mad.

Saranna had avoided him for the past four days and the pain of seeing her turn away every time he tried to approach had settled in his stomach like a malignant mass.

Ashton handed each of them a box of ammunition and popped the car’s trunk. He grabbed a backpack and strapped it on.

Julian eyed the fourteen-foot chain-link fence. If anything went wrong… They would have to make damn sure nothing did.

“Come on,” Ashton said.

They proceeded down the well-lit driveway. Ahead of them, a uniformed man stepped out of the guard-shack, blocking their progress.

They didn’t slow.

A twinge of relief shot through Julian that it wasn’t the old guy who’d been on duty the night he and Xalend had escaped. Killing an elderly guard, who in all probability was only trying to earn enough money to survive, wasn’t on his to-do list.

“Can you assist us?” Julian called. “Our car is on the fritz and I’m afraid we’re lost on top of it. Where’s the nearest good service station?”

The man relaxed.

“That would be McKay’s. It’s the best place around.” He scratched his ear then inspected his finger. “Though I’m afraid you’ll have to call them in the morning. McKay’s closed at six.”

“Not a problem. We’ll call friends to come pick us up, but the car has to be towed.”

“I’ll look up the number for a towing company. Be right back.” He turned to go into his shack and Slade sprang forward. Before the guard turned around, Slade grabbed the man’s head and gave it a sharp twist. Breaking bone cracked like a dry branch snapping underfoot.

Slade stuffed the body inside the shack and yanked the door shut. “One down. I sure as hell hope no one finds that bastard for a while.”

“You and me both.” Julian had no idea if the guard had a check in time or when the next shift guard came on duty.

“Where are the prisoners kept?” Ashton’s eyes burned into Julian.

“Building behind the house. Come on.” He sprinted across the lawn, leaving the brightly lit area behind for the deep dark of the tree line, with Ashton and Slade right behind him.

Once inside the concealing safety of the woods, they pushed through underbrush until they hit a worn trail where they were able to walk without branches and brambles ripping at them.

“Jeezuz,” Slade said. “I can’t see worth a fuck in here. How do those bastards hunt anything?”

“Night vision goggles,” Ashton said.

A dog barked near the house.

Ashton froze. “Why in the hell didn’t you mention the dog?”

“Wasn’t one,” Julian said. “Or it was confined.”

“Shit.” Ashton shoved through the brush toward the house. “Come on. Let’s get moving. Hopefully we won’t have to deal with the mutt.”

The dog bayed again and a shudder ran through Julian. What kind of dog was it? Not a little one, judging by the deep bass of its bark.

As he maneuvered through the trees, he tried to banish the memory of the three juveniles and the Canary dogs that had torn them apart.

It wasn’t possible to un-remember seeing something like that. He still smelled the blood. Heard the screams. Heard the dogs. If he lived to be a thousand, he would never forget that night.

The pole-building came into view. The hairs at the nape of his neck lifted and his stomach tightened. “There it is,” Julian whispered, more to himself than the others.

“I wonder how many prisoners they have in there,” Slade said.

“Hopefully, none.” Ashton moved forward, pushing them into motion.

Julian’s skin prickled. “Don’t count on it. I bet there’s at least one or two in there. Look.” He pointed to a small parking lot behind the house where a half dozen vehicles filled the lot.

Slade’s expression darkened. “Lotta cars. Hope that isn’t bad news.”

Ashton kept them moving. “Might be employees.”

They passed the house and neared the pole-building.

“They have prisoners in there all right.” Ashton lifted his head. “I smell them. At least three, maybe four.”

“Terrific,” Slade said.

“One or twenty, it doesn’t matter. We’re getting them off this property.” Ashton pulled the semi-automatic from under his jacket. After a quick check of the clip, he slammed it home.

Following their leader’s example, Julian and Slade checked their weapons and readied themselves.

The area between the house and pole-building was well lit, making them easy targets. They slipped from the woods into the danger zone.

Two men exited the house through a rear door and Ashton dropped to the ground. “Shit, get down.”

Julian and Slade hunkered beside him.

The men walked to the pole-building and went inside.

Long minutes passed before they reappeared, dragging a limp body between them.

“Oh, shit!” Julian’s blood iced over in his veins. They’re having a hunt tonight.”

“Like hell they are.” Ashton’s eyes blazed.

The men hauled the vampire around the side of the building and out of sight.

“When he’s able to stand, they’ll give him a head start and the hunt will begin.” Julian knew the procedure from Xalend’s description.

“We’ll intercept him,” Ashton said. “He won’t be able to outpace us if he’s been starved for a while.”

Julian stood. “We should go to the back of the building. They’ll probably set him off in that direction.

“Come on. We want to be in front of him when he takes off.” Ashton moved out and Julian and Slade fell in with him. They worked their way through thick underbrush until they were about three hundred feet behind the pole building.

Julian forced himself to breath evenly, though he was tense, coiled for attack. The others looked tight and the air around them practically crackled with tension.

It wasn’t long before something crashed through the underbrush. The captive vampire was on the move through the trees.

“This way.” Ashton took off with Slade right behind him.

With adrenalin cranking through him, Julian sprang after them at a dead run. They raced between the trees until another fence brought them to an abrupt halt.

Shit no
. Julian picked up a stick and threw it at the linked wire. The snap of electricity attested to its lethalness. “We should have known there’d be more fences. They couldn’t take a chance on a vampire doubling back toward the house.”

“We have to go over or under,” Ashton said.

Unless they sprouted wings, it would have to be under. Without waiting for the others, Julian took off down the fence line. Ashton and Slade followed at a fast clip.

“He’s going to get a big lead on us if we fuck around too long,” Slade said.

Brambles and vines clawed at Julian and snatched at his boots as he pushed through. The hilly, unkempt terrain wasn’t making their progress any quicker. They scrambled down a slope and Julian stopped. “Hold up. We can get under there.”

The fence crossed a wet-weather stream. Little more than a ditch, it had washed out enough that they should be able to wriggle under it.

Ashton eyed the distance between the ground and the fence. “Yeah. I think we can.
If
we’re careful.”

Ashton took off the backpack and shoved it and his weapon under before dropping onto his belly. “If I can get through, you guys can make it.” Carefully worming his big frame under the fence, his back had maybe an inch of clearance. After emerging on the other side unscathed, he got to his feet and brushed the dirt from his clothes before strapping the pack on again.

Julian dropped and followed, squirming through the opening. Slade followed the moment Julian gained his feet.

“Let’s hit it,” Ashton said.

At a run, they backtracked. The breeze blowing through the pine boughs carried the distant sounds of someone crashing through underbrush.

Ashton changed course. “This way. He’s weaving.”

More bodies moving through the dense woods painted a grim picture. By the racket they were making, there had to be at least four or five hunters and they weren’t far ahead.