Clarity (The Admiral's Elite Book 3) (38 page)

The lack of ratifying questions spoke volumes. They knew. Maybe not exactly but they knew there was something there. If Michael lived, if Black lived, he would have to find some way to protect his team should Black figure out they’d gotten close to discovering their secret.

Chapter 35

Wheels touched down. Michael’s head pounded. The butcher knife cutting its way through his gray matter had not dulled nor numbed him, offering mercy. No, each second of each minute of each hour offered him as much agony as the minute before.

“We’re here, Michael.” Becca stroked his head. Her voice broke. He hated the part he’d played in putting that strain there.

“I’m sorry.”

“Why are you sorry, Michael? You’re the one in pain, not us.” A tear hit his face, then another. “I hate seeing you like this.”

“If Black’s gone, I don’t know what happens to me. I don’t know if I can live once the connection is gone.”

“Don’t say that.” More tears, her voice broken. “You’re not allowed to leave me.”

Michael forced his eyes open, letting in a sliver of dim interior light, the sun had fallen low as they chased it into the horizon.

Backlit by low cabin lighting, a halo brightened her light brown hair and softened her features. He smiled. “I won’t leave you, Becca. Not as long as I walk this earth.”

“Promise,” she sniffed.

“Promise.” He touched her face, wondering if this would be the last time.

“Ready, Mike?” Dark red hair flamed brighter under the lights before he leaned in and blocked them out. “I can help you up if you need it.”

“Did you fly over the estate? Could you tell if it’s still standing? Any damage?”

“Not that I could see but we had to get creative, the landing strip is out of commission for now.” It was hard to tell if he was lying, his face hidden in shadow.

Grim faced, Michael sat up. He’d walked back from every mission, limped sometimes, but he’d walked. No way in this world he was going in this last time except on his own two feet. “Then I guess we better go see.”

Gabrielle joined them. “Ready?”

Becca stood beside him, lips tight. “Yep.”

The blonde’s eyes searched both of theirs. “Let’s do this.”

Unusually quiet, Kenneth paced by the front of the plane ready to debark.

A nod from Gabrielle and Ryan turned the handle, releasing the door. A jump and he jogged off to get the rolling stairs. In minutes the rest were on the tarmac walking in silence, preparing in their own ways for what they might find. Their home, a brother of unknown injury, commanding officer and future, all potentially gone.

Coming around the side of the hill to the estate, they stopped as they moved, as a unit. Smoke still rose, pieces large and small of gray stone littered the ground, and the entire west side of the house was a mass of rubble.

“Kyle,” Becca gasped and ran for the front door.

Without urging, Gabrielle was right behind her, racing to catch her before she did something stupid like run into a structurally unsound house that may or may not still be a target. The women disappeared inside the estate.

The three men followed as quickly as their injured member would allow. Inside, Michael forced one foot in front of another, using the physical pain to push aside the agony of one hundred meat cleavers mashing what was left of electrified undead brain matter to tartare. Across the foyer he stumbled, Ryan stayed close to help, not touching him unless he needed it. Chunks of wooden bannister spindles, gray stone from walls, chipped marble floors scattered to form a 3D mosaic of uneven footing and filling Michael’s unbeating heart with dread. How would he comfort Becca for the loss of her brother if he were dead?

The mere fact he still moved and thought gave him hope.

They reached the stairs on the far side, leading down to what served as their headquarters.

Becca

Michael didn’t realize he spoke aloud until Ryan’s hand landed on his shoulder. Together they made it down the spiraling stone steps. Ryan caught him with a hand at his elbow when he stumbled. Kenneth sped ahead. Michael didn’t care, his eyes went to Becca where she crouched over an unmoving form. Her soft cries ripped at his heart but she was safe physically. The room appeared to have been picked up and shaken like a snowglobe in a giant’s lair; desks, chairs, monitors were thrown around willy nilly. A computer on the ground partially hid what had to be Kyle’s body from view.

Black. Where was Black?

Michael’s head pounded, he pulled away from Ryan and moved toward Black’s office. The main lights were off, a minimal red glow coming from the generator driven backup bulbs offering not enough light for human eyes. Pain dimmed his sight further as he squinted.

“Sir.” He shuffled to the door, not sure if it was closed or just dark inside. Crossing the threshold he stumbled over something on the ground. Testing with a toe, he determined it was metal. A file cabinet? He stepped over. “Sir?”

Nothing
.
But I’m alive. He has to be.

It was too much to even imagine for a moment he could be free and live. No, this connection would never end that way. The parasite could not live when the host died.

Michael’s feet hit something hard, sending him over. Landing on his hands, he knew.

“Sir?”

Turning around on his stomach, he got closer. Felt the body to determine his position. Opening his eyes wide, he could see the pale white skin drawn tight. A bound servant, he had a duty. One he performed without hesitation.

Biting down on his wrist he smelled the blood and lay it on his master’s lips. “Drink,” he whispered.

At first nothing.

With his other hand he squeezed his wrist, forcing his blood to drip on unmoving lips. “Come on, admiral,” he pleaded. It wasn’t just for obedience he begged his master back to this world, it was essential to his own survival.

In a surge, the admiral latched on and began to suck. The pain that had assailed his brain the past five hours was transferred in equal measure to his arm. Michael let his head fall forward, hanging in pain and exhaustion over Admiral Black’s quiet chest.

An ancient, Black required little blood and soon swiped his tongue over the wound, closing it.

Michael sat back, knowing his duty had been fulfilled, his future secured once again.

A commotion from the command room. A scream. Becca’s scream. Michael was on his feet in a second, hitting the door frame and nearly losing his feet. Hands clung to door jamb, his head spun.

Becca lay protectively over her brother. Kenneth strained to reach one or both of the humans, Ryan and Gabrielle each had hands on Kenneth, fighting to keep him off. Thin limbs spiraled and swooped out of their grasps as he desperately attempted to attack. White fangs snapped inches away from Becca’s neck.

Pushing off, Michael staggered to them and threw himself at the vampire in the full throes of blood lust. The impact tore him from the wolves and together they hit the ground. Michael looked into eyes of pure madness, Kenneth was too far gone to reach. It was a look he knew well, knew there was no bringing him back from this. Unable to work around humans with an injury he was useless, a liability. He lost.

He smiled.

Movement behind him and a quiet voice that never failed to bring instant calm to all members of the team. “Kenneth.”

But he was too far gone. Even the command of a several millenia old vampire could not bring him back from the edge.

“Michael.”

Obedient, he moved off, eyes to Becca where she clung tight to her brother’s body. As expected, Kenneth went for them as soon as he was free but Black was faster. One long fingered hand wrapped around his throat, stopping his impetus with no visible strain to himself. The other hand came up, went around the back of his head.

“Kenneth,” Black pulled his face around to his.

The madness receded for a moment, just enough to see the torment and relief when he saw his fate staring back. He grinned. And giggled.

A twist and tug, and Kenneth’s body fell, his head landed with a wet thwack.

Black looked down where Becca stirred. “He will live, Rebecca. As will you.”

“What happened, Sir?” Ryan took a long look around the room.

“Kyle rerouted the drone. We did not anticipate the second attack until it was upon us. He jammed the signal as the rocket launched. It was not a direct hit, as you can tell.” He nodded. “We were incapacitated, he has minor injuries.”

Becca was staring at him. “How can you tell that from there?”

Black blinked. “Am I not correct?”

No need to answer, he knew he was right. He nodded. “Rest for now, tomorrow we have work to do.”

He turned to return to his office and stopped, turning around. “Gabrielle, your mission is complete. What are your plans?”

All eyes were on Gabrielle, understanding on a limited level, what Black was asking.

Her eyes ran over her colleagues, warming as they landed on Ryan Hallbeck, staying there as she answered with a soft smile. “I’m staying.”

Black didn’t react, just stared. Finally, giving a slow nod. “Good.” Then he returned to his office, disappearing within the darkness. The door closed.

Becca leaned back on her heels and Kyle stirred, eyes opening. Michael watched her blink and wipe away tears. It had been a horribly long day, he would do anything to help her erase the memory tonight when he held her close.

“Hey,” Kyle spoke, weak but steady. “Welcome back. Like what we’ve done with the place?”

Becca gave a wet laugh. “Black just left, he said you have to clean all this up.”

Kyle’s face blanched for a second then he grinned. “Shit.”

Gabrielle moved toward Ryan. Michael took a deep breath to feel his body move, to feel alive in his own way. He thanked God for the gift of another day.

The End