Vampire Elite (50 page)

“What about you, Blade?” Anock asked, watching the scene, more disturbed than he’d like to admit. Damn. He was supposed to be feeling satisfied, victorious.
 

“I pass,” Blade said gloomily. His body language was relaxed, but behind that façade, Anock detected a kind of vibration, like he was really tightly wound. Was Blade freaking out?
 

The Guardians stopped feeding and stepped away from the girl. It meant that her heart had stopped pumping blood; Sekhmi didn’t feed on the blood of the dead.
 

“It’s time to leave.” Anock stepped into the car.
 

The rest of the team followed. As they pulled away, Anock threw a last glance at the golden Amiti girl. She lay under the pine trees, surrounded by the halo of her glorious sun-colored hair, her still beautiful body smeared in blood
.
 

At the airport, the Guardians loaded the unconscious immortals onto the plane and took their seats, belting in and starting to watch movies or flip through magazines as they lifted off. Anock’s mind was still churning with everything that had gone down in the past twenty-four hours, so he just closed his eyes and let his brain have at it. Maybe he’d find some insight that had been escaping him. Or maybe he’d fall asleep, which wouldn’t hurt, either.

Just as the plane reached altitude, one of the Guardians broke the amiable silence that had settled over them.

“She was really beautiful,” he said offhandedly.

“Very beautiful,” someone else agreed.
 

For a moment no one said anything, and then a third warrior spoke up. “I could have sworn that I smelled Sekhmi on her.”

The silence clamped down on them, suddenly ominous.
 

“Me too,” another Guardian finally said tentatively.

“Yeah, me too.”

The meaning of their conversation pierced the bubble of Anock’s distraction. Adrenaline slammed through his body in its wake. By the time he’d consciously registered what was happening, he’d already erupted from his seat and was leaning over the Guardian who’d first mentioned the scent issue.
 

“
What?!
What did you just say?” Anock got in the guy’s face, fisting the lapels of his jacket and pulling him forward.
 

“I said, boss, that I smelled Sekhmi on her,” he answered, sounding like he didn’t understand what the problem was.

Anock stood up, pushing the guy back into his seat. “What the fuck were you thinking? Amiti smell like Sekhmi when they’ve
been fed on
by Sekhmi. And the only other Sekhmi in the building was Odji.”

Their faces got solemn as they came to terms with what Anock was saying. Someone let out a low whistle.
 

“Damn.” Anock recalled that over a year ago, just before Odji’s helicopter had been swallowed by Oberon’s wormhole, Odji had kidnapped an Amiti girl from the altar of the hunters’ temple, where she was about to be sacrificed to Sekhmet. “It’s the girl Odji kidnapped from the hunters.”

“Odji’s blood-bond” Blade murmured quietly, almost to himself. His face was bleak.

Anock lunged toward the door separating the main cabin from the cockpit and threw it open. The startled faces of the pilot and copilot stared back at him. “Turn around. Now! We’re going back to Irkutsk.”

Chapter 66

Stas, the Project’s main guard and handyman, was driving back to the Station. He was pissed off: tomorrow was his day off and he’d planned to spend that night and the next in Irkutsk with Vera, his girlfriend. But right after dinner everything had gone wrong. They’d started fighting over something stupid, and eventually it escalated to her throwing dishes at him and screaming obscenities. When the neighbors started complaining and pounding on the walls, he pulled on his boots and coat and left the apartment.

The last thing he wanted to do tonight was go back to the Station. But it could have been worse; at least this way he wouldn’t get hit in the head with a frying pan.
 

He drove the familiar route without paying attention to the road, when out of nowhere, he felt several cars approaching from the opposite direction. The hairs on his arms stood on end.
What the hell?
Stas was psychic, and the energies he was feeling were definitely nonhuman. Every fiber of his being screamed that something was seriously wrong.

He cut the lights and pulled off the road into what he hoped was a relatively hidden spot before shutting off the engine and huddling down to wait for them to pass.
 

He
floored the gas pedal, losing and regaining control of the car several times as he approached the station. The building was totally dark, and every window he could see was smashed, as was the main door. Stas swerved into the driveway and jumped out of the car, leaving the door standing open. He ran toward the busted front door, fear for his friends escalating. Out of the corner of his eye, he caught a glimpse of something out of place lying under the pines. Cautiously, he approached it. It was Zlata, one of the Project’s immortal research subjects, her pale form surrounded by red-stained snow. He almost fainted when he saw the savage bites covering her freezing body, which was turning blue from the cold.
 

He grabbed the girl and raced to the building. At the front hall, he set her on the couch and ran to check on the rest of the staff. He found them all in their bedrooms, freezing to death in their sleep. The winter winds circulated through the building, whistling through the broken windows and demolished door.

Stas started yelling at the top of his lungs, trying to wake people up, but no one responded. Sniffing at the air, he noticed a faint chemical odor, quickly dissipating in the fresh winter air. Had it been a chemical attack? He didn’t have time to ponder that right now; he had to keep his people alive.
 

Trained to survive in Siberia, Stas knew that the priority was to block all of the openings letting in the frigid air. He dashed to the utility closet and grabbed a hammer, nails, and two large blankets. He covered the door with one of the blankets, nailing it to the door frame. Then he grabbed pillows from the linen closet and stuffed them into the small, porthole-style window openings. The heaters had been working furiously, and with the holes covered, the building began to fill with welcome warmth.

When the immediate danger had passed, he took the second blanket, wrapped it around Zlata, and carried her downstairs to the medical suite. He laid her gently on the heated pre-op table and checked her pulse. There was none. He’ d have to try CPR. He rolled his sleeves up and began systematically compressing her chest and breathing into her mouth.

“
Davai
,
davai
,
prosnis
,” he was repeating over and over again in Russian.
Come on, come on, wake up
. When five minutes had passed and Zlata remained lifeless, Stas brought out the big guns: his unique gift, his healing power. He placed his palms on Zlata’s chest and connected to the Earth beneath his feet, stretching his consciousness down to the core of the planet. For Stas, the Earth was alive, so he greeted Her like a living being as he drew a ray of luminescent green light from the center of the planet to his body and then projected it into the girl’s heart. In his inner vision he watched the ray explode into billions of living sparks, forcing Zlata’s heart to beat again, reviving and reawakening every cell of her body.

Zlata’s body spasmed violently, and then she drew a hoarse, gasping breath and her eyes flew open. She blinked uncertainly at Stas.
 

Her face changed abruptly, as her body tensed again Stas could tell that she was remembering what had happened to her. She began to shiver as though she hadn’t been brought in from outside, her teeth chattering. Clutching at Stas’s arm, she seemed to be trying to say something, but then she passed out again, her hand going limp and dropping from his arm.

It was just as well, he thought. Whatever had gotten to her, it would take a lot of work, and a lot of time, to get over the attack. Meanwhile, he’d work on her physical healing.
 

He examined her wounds. Her body was covered in punctures, which in several spots seemed to have torn, creating bloody slashes across her skin. The girl had lost so much blood that her skin was translucent. The first thing she needed was an immediate blood transfusion. Stas searched the refrigerated blood supply for an Amiti sample. There weren’t any. What was the best alternative? Human? He went back through the stash, considering each bag and whether it might resemble Amiti blood.

“Take mine. It will work.” English words spoken in a husky female voice broke the quiet of the laboratory. Startled, Stas looked up to find three people standing in the doorway: two stunning young females and a striking male as handsome as any movie star he’d ever seen.

“Who are you?” Stas asked, also in English. They were not locals. It was obvious.
 

“We’re her relatives,” said the female as she approached him. She looked, Stas thought, as if she’d stepped right out of an ancient Egyptian fresco, with golden skin, straight black hair cut in long bangs to just below her eyebrows, and almond-shaped eyes thickly lined with kohl. Stas stared at her, mesmerized by her beauty.

The female waved her hand in front of his eyes. “Hellooo! Hey, you: wake up. We don’t have much time.”

“Oh. Sorry. What did you say? And who are you?”

“I’m Serena. But that’s not important. Now hurry up. She needs blood.” She rolled her sleeve up and extended her arm to Stas.

“How do you know that your blood will work?”

“I told you already. We’re her relatives and I ... I’m her sister. You’re psychic; sense me.”
 

Was she flirting with him? He let himself bask in the idea for a second and then got back to business, opening his sensory channels and focusing.
 

Yes, this female had the same vibrations as Zlata.

“You are Amiti,” he said, relieved. Amiti generally weren’t hostile toward humans. “How did you get here? How did you find us?”

“Not now! Hurry up. We need to save the girl.”

“OK, sit down and put your arm on the table.” Stas set up the transfusion and soon Zlata’s eyes fluttered open. Her cheeks took on a pink tinge and her skin seemed to come back to life, losing the eerie transparency it had had just moments earlier.

“Can you move?” Serena asked, leaning over Zlata. Zlata nodded. “Good. Get up. We need to go, now.”

“Go where?”
 

“As far away from here as we can get.”

Still weak and visibly shaken, Zlata got up from the table, wrapping herself in the blanket. “My clothes are gone.”

“I brought you some.” The other female produced an armful of clothes and a pair of boots and dumped them on a counter near Zlata. “I borrowed it all from a staff member here. Sorry if they’re a little big; at least they’ll keep you warm.”
 

While she was speaking she stared pointedly at Stas. He got the message and averted his eyes to give Zlata some privacy—never mind that he’d already seen her naked and she didn’t look like she was ready to start getting dressed yet.

“Who are you?” Zlata asked them cautiously.

“My name is Kassiopea. Call me Kassi. And this is Erec.” On cue, Erec flashed a million-dollar smile. “And this is our leader, Serena. We’ll be your family from now on.”

“And we need to get the hell out of here.” Serena’s brow furrowed as she listened to something nobody else could hear. “They’re coming back for her.”

He didn’t need to ask who Serena was talking about.
 

Fear surged through Stas, and he looked over at Zlata, who must be out of her mind with terror. But she mostly seemed out of it. She shouldn’t have been trying to stand in the first place—she was still too weak—and he saw her sway, then tilt against Kassi, who was struggling to help her get dressed.

But then she shrieked. “Oh my Goddess! I’m blood-bonded to all of those Sekhmi! I can sense all of them. And Odji. They’re coming for me! We need to run. There are too many of them.” Zlata grabbed Serena’s hand and pulled at it. “Quickly—we need to run, now!”

“Do. Not. Panic.” Serena’s command got even Zlata’s full attention. “It won’t help. I will shield you. Stand still, everyone.” She raised her hands toward Zlata, her fingers spread wide, a large sphere held between her palms.

Stas felt the energy in the room begin to shift, the molecules rearranging, and then Zlata transformed, becoming insubstantial, like mist.

“Now you’re fine,” Serena soothed. “You can sense them, but they cannot sense you. Consider it a great victory. You are in control of
their
lives now. Seven Sekhmi. This is unprecedented. You will join us and become one of us, an Avenger. Come now. We must make haste.” She took Zlata by the hand and started toward the door.

“Wait!” Stas called out to them. “She can’t leave. She’s a research subject.”

“I’m sorry, my friend, but you’ll have to find another subject for your experiments. By the way, how much do you owe her for her services? We’ll send you a bill.” Serena smiled at him as they walked toward the door.

Stas stepped forward to stop them and ran into an invisible barrier. The Amiti had formed an energy field between them. When he tried to blast it, the blast ricocheted off the shield and knocked him over. Sprawled on the floor, frustrated, he watched as the four immortals disappeared into the night.

When the shield dissipated and Stas could walk through the building again, he began cleaning up the mess left after the night’s attack. He was so consumed by the task that he didn’t notice that the blankets covering the entrance door had been pulled aside.

“Come here.” Stas heard a voice that curled his spine. Slowly, he turned around, hearing the mop he’d been using clatter to the floor.

Eight male vampires, beastly, gorgeous and intimidating, stood before him.
Hold on
, he ordered himself,
they’ll try to hypnotize you. Don’t let them see that you’re immune.