Scion's Freedom (Siren Publishing Classic) (12 page)

The man regained his composure and introduced himself. “I’m George Duffington, captain of the Supernatural Crime Investigative Unit, New Atlanta office. Most of the guys call me Cap. I am here to help with your extraction and relocation to the Council of Crones, Princess Dracul.” He extended a hand.

“It’s Cassy, just Cassy,” she muttered and accepted his hand. She gave his hand a couple of firm pumps before turning loose.

“Cassy it is then,” he amended. Cap’s look shifted from anger to business. “David, would you like to explain?”

“Well, that went well,” David muttered, shaking his head. He continued, “We have a work van outside. There are no windows in the back. You should be safe enough, if we cover you up for the next few hours.”

She gave him a quizzing look and asked, “What time is it?”

“It’s two thirty in the afternoon,” David said showing her his watch. “We thought if we left by three, we should get there around full dark since its late November. You can sleep on the way.”

“How am I getting in a van while the sun is still out without an enclosed garage? This time of day the risk of burning is at its highest,” she worried aloud.

“Cap managed to get it up the old logging road. We have it pulled up to the door. Covering any exposed skin with a blanket should be sufficient. It’ll be a bumpy ride back to the main road, but you should be fine in the back,” David explained.

“I’ll be driving. David will ride shot gun. I need to you tell me where in Asheville we are going. Your only job after that is to stay hidden. I borrowed the van off my brother-in-law’s carpet business. There is plenty for you to lie on and hide under, if need be. Pack up. You may not be back,” Cap barked. Everything about Cap screamed ex-military of some flavor. He left the room with a sharp turn and a quick measured pace.

A niggling of doubt about him fluttered in her stomach. She was not entirely sure about the man. The elusive clue seemed to be just out of reach of her fingertips. David believed in him, but Cassy’s misgivings nagged at her.

Cassy gave David a hard look. “Can we trust him?”

“He was the best person to call. Nothing told to him in confidence ever seems to get leaked. I’ve worked for that man the last three years. He’s the best guy in the unit. We can trust him.”

“Does he trust us?” Her fangs were still out. The excitement would have to wear off before they could retract.

“He trusts me, and I trust you. He’ll come around. Just don’t try to kill him again. Okay?” He stood behind her rubbing her alabaster arms.

“I’ll try. No promises, though. I’ll take your word he is okay, for now. Maybe you should have woken me up instead,” she suggested.

“I didn’t know he was going to. Next time, I will. Please don’t choke my boss. I’ll never get promoted again,” he teased.

Cassy laughed and turned to face him. Letting go of the quilt, she pulled him in for a hug. He kissed the top of her head. One hand slipped below his waist and squeezed his buttocks through his jeans. A throat cleared in the other room near the doorway.

“Detective Ashe, may I see you while your guest gets dressed?”

“Uh-oh. That’s doesn’t sound good,” she voiced with concern.

“Oh, he already knows. He’s not happy, but he doesn’t have to be,” David soothed. With another kiss, this time on the cheek, he left her to dress.

Cassy focused on listening to the two men as she quietly slipped back into her jeans and found one of David’s button-up shirts in the closet.

“You were supposed to watch her, only watch her. Instead, I find you banging her brains out. That is a clear violation of policy. Emotional attachments to a witness under protection can get you both killed. What were you thinking? Don’t answer that. I know what you were thinking,” Cap said in a furious whisper. “I thought you knew better, or I would have sent someone else.”

“I didn’t know she was the woman from the bar until after the attempt on her at the apartment. What was I going to do? Leave her standing in the middle of an abandoned park? As for banging her brains out, there’s more to it than that. Having her near activated the dormant gene. It’s like we’re plugged in to each other. I didn’t make this happen on purpose, and I don’t think she did either. But I can’t stop it and don’t want to either,” David argued back in hushed tones.

“She is a born vampire princess. You are the bastard son of a half-witch who doesn’t even know what his father is. Do you think for one second her dad is going to allow you to stay together? What do you think he will do to you?”

“I know what I am, but I have no active powers. I wasn’t brought up in the magical community. For all anyone else knows, I’m as human as the next person. She and I have already started bonding. There is nothing he can do about it,” David responded.

“Do you think that will matter to him? It’s about maintaining a pure bloodline for them. They created a breeding program to allow periodic diversity to prevent genetic problems. They use people like cattle. It’s sick. You really think he wouldn’t marry her off to a pure blood and leave you two pining away for your lost love? Even if she turned you, you’d be a vampire, but you’d be made. You wouldn’t be able to reproduce. How well do you think that will go over? She is the only pureblood daughter he has. The last one of his line,” Cap finished. He was angry. Cassy could hear him breathing heavily. Everything about him sounded agitated.

“I’ll worry about that when the time comes. Right now, she’s in danger. You told me the goons in my house are still in the area. We need to get her to Asheville before they know she’s gone. Maybe the Council of Crones will have an answer as to who is behind this,” David whispered.

“I hope so. This is a huge risk. Those files all point to a source I am hoping is just bad info. Did you tell her?”

“No. It hurt like hell to lie, but I didn’t say anything about who it might be. I’m getting a headache just talking about it. How do you think she’d feel knowing her brother may be behind this? We don’t even know for certain it’s him. What if it’s her father?”

“Don’t think the idea hasn’t crossed my mind. We can’t condone outright murder, but we can’t fight someone that powerful either,” Cap stated as a matter of fact.

“I say we get her to the witches. Let them swap info and see what turns up. They will prove us right or give us a new lead,” said David quietly.

“Agreed. Now, go check on her, and let’s get out of this hole,” Cap commanded at a normal volume.

Cassy scrambled to put on her shoes and button her shirt. She didn’t want them to know she had overheard anything. By the time David reached the door, she was tying the last shoe lace. He knocked.

“Can I come in?”

“Yes. I’m decent.” Cassy kept her voice even. Inside, she wanted to scream, to rage.

How could anyone think her father or brother was linked to the murders? Why would they be involved with The Fall? They had suffered right along with everyone else. How dare Cap presume to know what her father might say or do! Cassy herself could not predict him, but she knew him to be a good and honorable man. He let her go many years ago. The judgment was likely to stand. Max was married to a purebred wife of a Hungarian noble house. Cassy was no longer the focus. She was just the backup plan, just in case. But how often do noble vampires die? Her father was planning to retire some day because the reins would never pass otherwise. When Max produced an heir and was ready, her father always said he would step aside. Cassy had longed for the blessed event. It would pass her title of Scion to the child. She would no longer be second in line to the throne.

“I vant to vatch Max running around putting out ze fires. It will be most entertaining,” he had joked in his thick Romanian accent. She loved the way his w’s always sounded like v’s no matter how hard he practiced to sound American.

“We’re ready to go when you are, Cassy,” David said. He gave her a weak smile. The conversation with Cap appeared to still be weighing on him.

“I’ll be out in a few seconds,” she said, returning the smile. He left. She sat on the bed, her hands over her face. The ride was three hours. She may sleep part of it, but she was sure some of it would leave her with nothing to do but think. And there was a lot to think about. David’s suspicions, Cap’s disapproval, and concern over her father’s reaction weighed heavy on her. On top of this was the added questions of who was after her and why. Cassy had a feeling Erica’s story was not the real reason or, as least, not the only reason. She could not put her finger on why the whole situation seemed off to her. It was a similar feeling of something being wrong as she had the day Erica died.

Coming out the bedroom with her bag packed, Cassy saw the two men slipping on their shoulder holsters. The guns were on the coffee table in front of them. David picked up the Smith and Wesson .45 and deposited in his holster. A Browning Standard stuck out of a well-concealed black nylon padded holster tucked inside his waistband.

“Don’t you think that will be a bit bulky under your coat? I prefer something smaller but more easily hidden,” Cassy remarked. “You’d be surprised at what a revolver can do.”

“You carry a pistol?” Cap seemed surprised. His eyebrows were raised halfway up his forehead. “What sort of princess are you?”

“I do work in downtown New Atlanta, you know. I can’t keep up the whole sweet, innocent, little ol’ harmless me routine by beating up people and draining them dry. Erica taught me how to use a .38 Special. I keep it in my purse. They may want my wallet or virtue, but they’re getting a bullet.” She laughed.

Both men gave her a noncommittal shrug and nod. Cap tucked a 9mm under his jacket and snapped the flap closed. “Let’s just hope no one needs anything, okay kids? Grab your gear. I’ll go get the van started.” Cassy heard the entry door open and slam behind him.

Cassy did not know what to say. So, she said nothing. She picked up the backpack with the laptop and her clothes and the most important contents of her purse. David must have felt the same way. He, too, said nothing, picked up a quilt, and followed her to the entrance.

Two short raps alerted them Cap was ready. Cassy pulled the quilt over all exposed skin and the lightweight T-shirt. She could not see a thing.

“You’ll have to help guide me,” she said to whoever was nearest her.

Hands took her by both shoulders and eased her out the door. She was maneuvered to the open double doors at the back of the vehicle. Cassy banged her knees against the steel bumper. She winced in pain but did not cry out. Climbing up, someone put a hand on her behind to help steady her. She flopped down on the pile of carpet scraps and rolls on the floor. The bags were tossed quickly in beside her as the double doors shut and locked. A front door opened and slammed. She could hear rustling outside by the entrance. Someone was locking up the hide out. The other front door opened and slammed shut.

“Okay, Cassy,” David said, “It should be safe to peek out.” She lifted the fabric from her face just enough to see the bright light falling on the two men. It hurt her eyes, and she receded back further into the shadows of the windowless cargo hold. He asked, “Where to?”

“The old Vanderbilt estate main gated entrance. They use the 8,000 acres as a headquarters compound. Someone should be there to greet us,” she replied.

The logging road was as rough as she had imagined it would be. They bounced their way along it for twenty minutes. It had not been this jolting hiking to the hideout. Once on the paved road, the rocking motion and the hum of the engine lulled Cassy back to sleep.

She awoke in time to see the tree-lined drive come into view. The brick and stucco building with its steep roof and gated archway loomed out of the pressing dark. Lights were on in the widows to either side of the arch. Behind the gate in the center of the road stood a young, pale woman in a thin, nearly sheer, light-blue gossamer gown. Over it she wore a matching crushed-velvet hooded cape. It fell almost to the ground. The hood hid her hair. Her empty hands were clasped in front of her, and her face held a smooth contented expression. Only her ice-blue eyes gave away any hint of danger. They were like a predator curious about its prey, deciding if it would pounce now or wait till later.

Cap stopped the van. The woman did not move. He rolled down the window. She did not speak. He looked into the back for instructions. Cassy made her way forward.

He asked her, “What does she want?”

“For me to present myself, I think,” Cassy guessed. “She is the gatekeeper.”

“I don’t see any weapons,” David observed. “But be careful just the same.”

“She doesn’t have a weapon because she doesn’t need one,” she remarked.

Cassy rolled back the sliding side door and stepped out. The crisp night air felt good after being cooped up in the back of the stuffy van. She inhaled and let out the breath in a sharp huff. Using her hands, she smoothed her hair and strode forward. The only lights outside the building were the van’s headlights.

“I am Princess Cassandra, Scion of Vlad Dracul IV. I have an invitation to meet with the Council. I request entrance for myself and my two companions, Maiden, Keeper of the Gate,” Cassy stated in the same diplomatic tone she had used with the crow. She could feel a cool tickling sensation covering her. The Maiden was searching for Cassy’s powers, feeling her out for intent and potential harms. It brushed past her. She could only assume it was probing the van’s occupants. The tickling stopped.