Nightlord Lover (11 page)

The first time Garrick met Darla Rhinehart, he had thought
she’d try to cut off his head. After all, she was a slayer and he was
trespassing on her territory. That was twenty-five years ago and she had every
right to attack him as he stood on the bank of the Delaware River. Instead they
had stood several yards apart and glared at each other. Huge ice flows drifted
past in the swift current.

She had known who and what he was. All slayers recognized a
vampire on sight. They were trained too. While she had watched him, she’d
turned enough to show off her sword hilt that hung within easy reach on her
back. The only defensive move she had made was to change places with her young
son so she’d stood between them. She hadn’t run but she hadn’t made a move to
attack either. Brave woman. The boy hadn’t been aware of Garrick’s presence. He
had been mesmerized by the fast-moving river, poking at the chunks of moving
ice with a long stick. He had learned later that the boy John was seven.

The only reason Garrick had been standing on this side of
the river in Lambertville that early evening was because he’d traveled through
the tunnel to a clock repair shop to drop off an antique clock he owned. He had
known the clocksmith and trusted him with the piece.

“Time to go, John,” she had said, never taking her eyes off
Garrick.

“Mom, look at that one! It’s as big as a car.” The boy had
ignored her request.

The splash had jerked both Garrick and the slayer out of
their staring contest. Garrick had glanced along the riverbank. The boy had
vanished. Darla had screamed. Garrick had seen the top of John’s head for an
instant before he’d dipped beneath the dark surface.

Garrick had dived into the icy water. Even his vampire
strength had to fight the current and the cold cramping his muscles. Fear had
gripped him when he’d thought the child would be lost. Then he had felt John’s
slick ski jacket. Garrick had kicked harder to reach him and grab his arm.
Moments later, he’d surfaced with the boy sputtering, but too cold to scream or
cry.

Arms had reached out, Darla had run to Garrick and grabbed
her son. “Thank you, thank you. I have to get him home.”

“Not a hospital?” Garrick had sensed the boy’s heart beating
slow, too slow.

“I’m a nurse. He’s hypothermic. I know what to do. It’ll
take too long to get to a hospital.” She had struggled up the steep riverbank,
sliding in the snow.

“Let me. I can move faster.” Garrick had taken the boy from
her. “Where do you live?”

She had hesitated for a fraction of a second. “This way.”

Days later, he had checked on John and Darla. The boy had
been fine. Garrick and Darla had become lovers. He had never marked her or even
took blood from her. How would it look to the other slayers if she had a secret
vampire lover? Over time they had parted ways on good terms. The idea of
immortality had never appealed to her, but she had said if he ever needed a
favor to come look her up.

Now twenty-five years later, here he stood in front of her
cottage. The house had aged and it needed painting. The shrubbery and trees had
grown but it held its original charm and memories of old lovers.

“Do you think she’ll remember you?” Ramon asked. “It’s been
awhile and she’s an elder slayer for Christ’s sake.”

“There’s a light on, let’s see if she’s home.” Garrick and
Ramon walked onto the porch and rang the doorbell. Behind them, he heard the
scuff of a boot. He froze. A fast movement could be deadly when dealing with
slayers.

“Hello, Garrick, Ramon. It’s been awhile.” Darla’s voice,
low and gritty, like whiskey had roughened her throat. It was strangely
familiar and still sexy. “By rights I could kill you both for entering
Lambertville unescorted. Any reason why I shouldn’t?”

Slowly Garrick turned. Darla stood with two axes in her
hands. “Hi, Darla. Nice to see you too.” Her hair was darker, shorter with a
few gray streaks. Tiny lines etched the skin around her eyes and mouth. The
form-fitted leather jacket showed a figure that had matured to slightly rounder
hips and waist, but she was still beautiful and had gained a confidence that
she didn’t have in the late 80s. “I need a favor.”

“I see.” She smiled, lowering the axes to her side.

“How’s John?” Garrick asked.

She beamed. “Wonderful. Married with his own baby, a girl.
It was about this time around Christmas when he fell into the river. He’s thirty-two
now.”

Garrick had to let that sink in. The years went by in a
flash sometimes as an immortal. It could be disorienting. Garrick turned when
he was thirty-two. So Darla was fifty-one now. An attractive woman. He wondered
if she had ever married. What was her life like over all these years? “I’m glad
he’s well.”

“The answer is no, I never married. I’ve never been lonely.”
She sighed, obviously getting uncomfortable with the personal discussion. “What
do you need, Garrick?”

“I need your tracker skills to help me find someone who was
taken. A mortal woman.”

“Search and recovery?”

“Partly. There’s more to it than that.” Garrick looked at
Ramon. This plan was going to anger a number of his kind. “More like an eye for
an eye so this doesn’t happen again. The alliance between slayers and vampires
is in danger. I want you to help me hunt, capture and kill one of my own,
perhaps many more.”

He caught a twitch of a smile. “How ironic, a vampire
killing vampires. I think I’m going to need some reinforcements.”

Garrick’s cell phone started ringing again. He groaned.

“Are you going to get that?” Darla asked, amused. “I have a
few calls to make.”

“I’ve already started sending texts out, Mom,” a man’s voice
said from the side of the house.

Garrick and Ramon jumped off the porch as the figure stepped
out of the shadows. A man in a hooded sweatshirt and carrying a double crossbow
stood at the corner of the house. He was about six foot and even in the
sweatshirt and jeans the guy was built like a rock. He had that military
attitude. He lowered his weapon to his waist but kept it leveled in their
direction.

“John, this is Garrick and Ramon. They’re allies. Garrick
was the one who pulled you out of the river when you were a kid.”

He frowned for a second because he saw that he and Garrick
appeared to be about the same age. “Nice. Thanks.”

“You’re welcome.” After an awkward pause, Garrick’s phone
started ringing again.

“She’s going to keep calling until you answer,” Ramon said.

“Your girlfriend?” John asked, smiling.

“No, a friend.” He looked at the phone and answered.
“Jordan, I know Larissa’s missing. I’m trying to find her.”

“I know where she is,” Jordan said. “I saw Lazaro take her
and I followed him.”

“Where?”

“Take Route 32 North about—” Jordan was cut off.

“Garrick, it’s Bastian. Do not go after her yet. I know
where she is and she’s safe.”

“What? Where the hell is she?”

“Not far but you can’t go without help.”

“I’m getting help. I have the slayers with me.”

There was silence on the end of the phone. “Good. We’ll need
them. Lazaro has others who are loyal to him. At least a dozen.”

“How can you know that? Why didn’t you tell me sooner?”
Garrick growled. “If anything happens to her—”

“I’ve known about Lazaro’s clan for a while but I had to
learn what they were planning. Larissa’s the bait. He’s expecting you to rush
in. They won’t harm her because Lazaro wants her.”

Garrick rubbed his forehead. “Tell me where!” Challenging
Bastian would have consequences but he had Larissa’s life to worry about. “I’m
leaving to get her now.”

“Have the slayers bring plenty of weapons. Meet us at the
bridge. I have something that will help persuade Lazaro to release Larissa and
leave New Hope.”

* * * * *

By the time Garrick and the slayers got to the bridge
crossing the Delaware River into New Hope, Bastian was there with a number of
other vamps surrounding two bucket trucks. Four workers had just finished
chaining Kashia to the top of the suspension bridge tower.

“Lazaro should be up there with her,” Garrick murmured to
Bastian as he gazed up to the top. Kashia was bound, gagged and hung upside
down at the top of one of the towers on the bridge. She struggled but her
efforts were useless.

The two trucks waited on the bridge, both drivers and
workers were slayers and didn’t have a problem handling her or chaining her to
the tower and cables. “When I give the order, this crew will release her, but
not until Larissa is safe.”

“Let’s go, let’s go.”

“Where’s Jordan?” Ramon asked. “It’s going to get dangerous
out on the streets.”

Bastian nodded. “I’ve sent word around town. Everyone is
staying inside. Jordan is at the Edmund Manor. She’ll be safe there.”

“Don’t tell her father,” Ramon said, raising a brow.

“We have an understanding. I protect his daughter but don’t
touch her in any way.”

The slayers checked weapons and climbed into SUVs. Most of
the Guild waited in other vehicles for Bastian’s orders.

Darla gazed up at Kashia. “If Lazaro and his clan don’t give
up and agree to Bastian’s terms, that vamp is going to look like a Fourth of
July sparkler at sunrise.”

“Whatever it takes,” Garrick said.

“Let’s get your girlfriend,” Darla said to Garrick.

“How do you know she’s my girlfriend?”

Darla smiled. “You’re in love. I know that look, I’ve seen
it before. When you find her, don’t let her go.” Garrick thought he sensed a
twinge of sadness in her voice.

* * * * *

“Watch her,” Lazaro said to Anja as he pointed to Larissa
sitting on the bed. “I’m trying to track down Kashia. She’s not answering my
calls.”

“Are you going to go look for her?” Anja asked.

“No, Kashia said to wait here with the clan until we hear
from her.” Lazaro growled. “Fuck! She’s late. It’s only a couple hours until
dawn.”

Anja nodded. “Do what you have to. I’ll be here.”

Lazaro stormed out of the room, slamming the heavy oak door.
“Keep it locked,” he shouted from the other side.

She shoved the deadbolt into place. “I never would’ve
believed this of you,” Larissa said. “I thought you were friends with Garrick
and Ramon.”

Anja didn’t answer. Slowly she took off her long, leather
coat and dropped it in a chair. Hooked over her shoulder were two scabbards
with short swords. Larissa stiffened. Anja smiled. “It’s going to get nasty
around here shortly.” She checked her phone. “Very soon. Do you know how to
kill a vampire?”

“Why would I want to know that?”

“There are good ones and bad ones. You need to protect
yourself.” She removed one of the swords off her back and held up the blade.
Larissa stood up in her underwear, shivering, partly from the chill in the room
and partly from fear. She didn’t know what to expect from Anja.

Anja looked her over. “Hang tight.” She unlocked the door,
left and came back a minute later with Larissa’s clothes and boots. “Get
dressed. We’ll be leaving soon.”

“You’re getting me out of here?” Larissa slipped on her
jeans, sweater and boots and stood by the door.

“Sit,” Anja ordered. Then placed the sword on the bed next
to her. “When the alarm goes off, follow me. Now, to kill a vampire, there are
two ways.” She held up the sword. “A thrust directly through the heart. Or cut
off their head.”

Larissa cringed.

“Hold the sword in both hands when you strike for extra
force.”

Larissa nodded but she doubted she’d have the courage to cut
off anyone’s head or stab them. “What happens when the alarms go off?”

“The massacre begins.” Anja checked her phone. “Get up. Pick
up your weapon.”

Larissa stared at the sword suspiciously as if it were a
snake ready to strike.

“They’re here,” Anja said.

“Who’s here?”

“Slayers.”

“Your enemy?” Larissa asked, confused.

“No, we have an alliance. Lazaro, Kashia and their clan are
trying to break it. Bastian didn’t even know the full plan until tonight. It’ll
be over soon. I hope.”

“But how can I tell between the good vamps and Lazaro’s
clan?”

Anja pulled her sword out of her scabbard. “Don’t try. Just
protect yourself.”

Alarms pierced the room and red lights flashed. Larissa
jumped up and grabbed the sword. Footsteps raced above them, loud voices
shouted orders and doors slammed. “Which way?”

Anja held up her hand. “Wait.” When the floor above them
grew quiet, Anja opened the door. “Stay close and keep your eyes open.”

* * * * *

When Larissa and Anja stepped outside the back door the
first thing Larissa saw was blood on the snow. A lot of blood. A body without a
head slumped over a fallen patio chair a few yards away. Cold air slammed into
her then a wave of heat and nausea swirled in her gut. Larissa was afraid she’d
throw up. Several feet away the head lay next to a tree. She couldn’t move. Clamping
a hand over her mouth, she stopped herself from screaming. Despite not having a
coat and the temperature well below freezing, she felt sweat break out on her
forehead. Anja grabbed her arm and dragged her across the yard under the
shelter of an overgrown hemlock tree.

“Wait here for a minute until we find out what’s going on.
Move when I say.”

Larissa nodded. Blood and bodies littered the yard. Mortal
or immortal she wasn’t sure. Probably both. Her pulse felt on the verge of
racing out of control. Across the yard were two groups of people. The larger
group carried the most fierce-looking weapons—swords, axes, clubs or knifes.
There were only about eight in the other group and they had no weapons that
Larissa could see. Lazaro stood in the middle of that group.

Shouting continued between the groups for several minutes
then it got quiet. So quiet Larissa was afraid to breathe.