Cunningham, Pat - Legacy [Sequel to Belonging] (Siren Publishing Ménage Amour) (29 page)

“Long-term blood bank,” Wallace said. “We figured that.”

“Not a blood bank. Maybe as a sideline. They wanted more than blood from their captives. They were looking for a way to make the species compatible, so they could interbreed.”

“Interbreed with what? Not with vampires. That falls under ‘when Hell freezes over.’”

“Not necessarily. Surely you can see the advantages. Picture a soldier, or a spy, with all a vampire’s powers but none of the weaknesses. Superhuman senses, strength, and speed but able to move about in daylight, with a taste for human blood and an inborn inclination to hunt. Female for controlled breeding to perpetuate the species, and a vampire’s heightened allure. I wouldn’t want to have to fight something like that. Would you?”

“Whoa, hold up. Back to my original objection here. A human-bat combo can’t happen. Bats don’t reproduce. We can’t. We’re dead. We can’t even get it up without the blood lust. How many centuries you say they been at this and they still haven’t figured that out? Jesus H. lap-dancing Christ. I knew bats were stupid, but that’s epic.”

The Preacher smiled thinly. “I’ve heard stories about you, Tin Man. There are ways around that little glitch. I think you know what they are.”

Bullshit. There was no way around a dead dick. The Preacher didn’t know squat. But Wallace did know, and he realized, with a slowly sinking gut, it could just remotely be possible. Hell, he himself was the poster boy for what a vampire’s undead body could do, if given the right stimulus. “Bat blood.”

“It does a body good.” He stopped smiling. “The priest was so impressed, or horrified, he quoted the woman at length. She talked about how they fed her vampire blood, how they’d been feeding it to their broodmares for generations. Altering their genetic structure, making them compatible with their vampire lovers. She talked about how it made her feel. Invincible. Indestructible. Incredibly horny. They fed it to the studs as well, to make them fertile again. I’ll bet date nights in the compound got pretty boisterous. Not to mention loud.”

“No. You’re screwing with me. You feed a human bat blood and they turn. That’s how it works.”

“Only if they’ve been drained and are on the verge of death. These were healthy women, and the doses were small. Like snake venom. Receive enough low-level bites and over time you develop a tolerance. These bloodlines had been nurtured since the 1800s. Breeders have created new strains of dog in far less time than that.”

“Didn’t happen. Never happen. It can’t.”

“It did. Of course, it takes time to create a new species of human, or vampire. At least twenty years to make sure the child survives and has the traits you want, another twenty to see if those traits breed true. They had a few minor successes here and there, but never anything lasting. The hybrids were deformed, or unstable, or sterile. Plus they had to deal with the constant interruptions from slayers eradicating their kennels. Finally, though, their efforts came to fruition. There were eighteen children at the Woods and the Waters. Eighteen viable offspring, sired by vampires. Some of them escaped the slaughter as well.” His ironic smile reappeared. “Of course, by now, they’re not children anymore.”

Colleen
. No. It wasn’t possible. She didn’t have a drop of vampire in her. Except…there was her unusual strength, and her psychic abilities, and that inhuman richness in her blood. Not to mention the physical jolt he experienced every time he looked into her eyes, like she’d been designed from her DNA up just for him. Or someone like him.

He fought to keep his fangs concealed. “Are you hunting the girls?”

The Preacher shook his head. “No reason to. They’re human, for the most part. As long as they stay that way, I’ll let them be.” He regarded Wallace with shrewd speculation. “If you’re protecting one, you’ll want to watch your back.”

“Always a good idea. Who am I watching it for, and where are they hiding?”

“If I knew that, they’d already be dealt with. My leads brought me here, but I think I’m too late. I doubt if they’ve gone back to the commune.”

“They haven’t. I checked there already.”

“As I suspected. As far as who, the name ‘Lebec’ keeps cropping up. He may even be one of the original founders. Descriptions from several incarnations of the kennel match up.”

“Never heard of him,” Wallace said. “I’ll ask around, and I’ve got some friends who can ask around. Thanks for the lowdown. I owe you.”

The slayer smiled full on. It wasn’t especially pretty. “Forget it. I know what you are, and what you do. If we both walk away intact tonight, I’m willing to call it even.”

“I’m good with that. Suppose I need a follow-up. How do I get hold of you?”

“You don’t. Call Triton’s Den and ask for Alonzo. He’ll pass the word along. Better still, try not to need me.”

“Same here. You show up at my house, and I might take it the wrong way. Wait, I know. Contact Dr. Gus Stanton in Hermosa Beach. You two might want to swap notes.”

“The Lion? I thought he and Dorothy were inactive.”

Whoa. Sucker’d done his homework. “They’re cheering us on from the sidelines. You never really get the slayer out of your blood.” Wallace patted his chest. “Case in point.”

The Preacher nodded. “Hermosa Beach. I might look them up.” He started to back away.

“Wait,” Wallace said. “One other thing. You move around a lot. You keep in touch with other slayers.”

“I stay abreast of their activities. It’s not the same thing.”

“Whatever. I’m looking for a slayer. He cleaned out a nest in Tacoma about two years ago.”

The Preacher narrowed wary eyes. “What do you want with him?”

“To say thanks. I was hunting this bat—a loose end from my days in LA. I heard he’d gone to Tacoma, but by the time I tracked him down, the flock was dead, and the nest had been burned to the ground. Some other slayer beat me to the punch. Any idea who?”

“Yes, as a matter of fact. That was me.”

Wallace went dangerously still. “You?”

“I remember the incident. A rash of killings—victims drained of blood—and orgies afterwards. I was lucky enough to stumble over a lead. There were signs of only four at the nest itself. I tracked as many of the others as I could, but then they scattered. If your bat was in that house, he’s gone. You don’t have to thank me.”

No chance of that. If Wallace could breathe, he would have stopped several minutes ago. “I heard there’d been a human involved. Some kid they were using as a blood lust slave.”

“That would explain the orgies. I rescued a boy from the house. I didn’t find any signs they’d been feeding on him, but he was still pretty messed up.”

No shit. You murdered his family. You wrecked his life. You almost destroyed him, you son of a bitch
. “What happened to him? His, uh, his folks are probably worried about him.”

“He got away from me. I don’t know where he is. I want to believe he found help somewhere. More than likely, though, he ran straight to another flock. They’ll do that. Once a vampire marks them, that’s pretty much the end. I wish I could tell you something more hopeful, but that’s the way it is.”

He sounded honestly contrite.
Lucky for you, you shit bastard. That just saved your life. For now.
His beloved Scarecrow’s revenge by proxy would have to wait. He had to get this information back to his family and make sure Colleen was safe.

Wallace’s lips twisted in the semblance of a smile. “Thanks. We’ll have to do this again sometime.”

“I don’t think so.” The Preacher had edged one hand beneath his coat. He must have noticed Wallace’s shift in attitude, from fellow slayer back to mortal enemy. Fucker was good. All the more reason to let him walk now and wait for a better time and place. “Good luck, Tin Man.”

“Yeah. You, too.”

Wallace let the Preacher retreat. He had the son of a bitch’s scent, and he wouldn’t forget. Right now, though, Colleen and Scarecrow needed him. He jumped the fence and dashed in a blur for his van.

Chapter 16

Colleen struggled back to consciousness. Her head throbbed, and a positively horrible taste coated her tongue, thick as a shag throw rug.
I fell
.
I think I fell
. She’d been at the preschool, getting ready to leave. Norelle had come over to bug her for details on her after-work plans.
I must have tripped on a toy
.

Gentle hands took her shoulder and elbow and helped her sit upright. The voice that murmured anxiously against her cheek was too deep to be Norelle’s. This wasn’t the carpeted floor of the playroom, either. It was slick linoleum that hurt her knees. The room spun briefly, making her gut lurch. Had she and Norelle gone out after work? Did she have a hangover? Impossible. She never got wasted on work nights.

She didn’t go out after work these days, either. It wasn’t safe because of the vampires.

Colleen clutched at the hand on her shoulder. Its size proclaimed it male. She swayed back and blinked up into the other’s face.

“Jeremy?”

He nodded. The action brought on a wince. He didn’t look any steadier than she felt. “Welcome back,” he croaked. “I just woke up myself.”

“What happened? Where are we?” She looked around slowly. The room was stark and sterile, about ten feet across and twice that in length. The stale air carried a dry, desiccated odor that reminded Colleen of the funeral parlor that had handled Uncle Oscar’s passing. The room’s concrete walls were lined with shelves and rows of safe-deposit boxes. Both the doorway and door were as round as a wheel. “Are we in a bank vault?”

“Looks like it. Don’t ask me where.” He sniffed as she had seen Wallace do. “It smells like bat in here. I think this is a den.”

“Vampires? In a bank?”

“Makes sense. Look around. No windows, reinforced walls, steel door for added security. Excellent place to sleep. Plenty of banks closed in the last economic dip. Some enterprising vamp could have bought the building. How did they get you?” His hands on her tensed. “Did they attack the school?”

“No, everything was fine. Well, except for Norelle. She had a bug or something. She was acting weird all day.” A sudden chill rippled over her skin. “Norelle. We were getting ready to leave for the day. She came over to ask me something. That’s the last thing I remember.” That, and the scarf her friend had kept wrapped around her neck in eighty-degree heat. “Oh God. Norelle. They got Norelle.”

“I’m sure she’s okay,” Jeremy said quickly. “They can take control of a human without turning them. It’s only temporary.” He pressed a kiss to her temple. “I think that’s how they got me, too,” he added ruefully. “Some girl came to the door. She said her car broke down and her cell died. I turned my back on her to get my phone, and I think she chloroformed me. That’s probably what Norelle did to you.”

“Why you? They had me. Why you, too?”

He shrugged one shoulder. “Hostage. Revenge. Insurance against Wallace. He’s a slayer, and he got in their way. They’ll want to punish him by destroying his flock.” His voice turned grim. “I’d like to know how they found us.”

“It wasn’t Norelle. I never told her where you lived. I don’t think I even said I was staying with you.” She peered up into his eyes. “A
girl
overpowered you? What was she, Wonder Woman?”

“No, just a girl. She was smaller than you. But strong. Vampire strong.” His frown deepened. “She couldn’t have been a vampire. The sun was still out. She didn’t even have a jacket on.” He shrugged again. “Nice boobs.”

“Not helping.”

“Right. Let’s have a look at that door.”

He got up, swayed, and nearly sat again. He made Colleen stay put until he got his legs back then helped her up. Of course, the door was locked. Colleen’s purse and her cell were both missing. Jeremy’s pockets had been emptied as well.