Vampire Uprising (40 page)

“Whatever. Think we could get a ride to Denver?”

“I can arrange that.” Tristan moved even closer to Cole and placed a hand on his forearm. Since he was a human male and she was a member of a species that served as the template for the ultimate ethereal female, that simple touch was enough to separate him from the world as well as his reality. “Please tell me you’re done with this kind of bloodshed.”

“We’ve got what we need from the ones we already questioned. I don’t think any of us are in the mood to talk to another one.”

“Good. I need you to tell me one thing, Cole.”

“Name it,” he replied before he could think any better of the decision.

She smiled, deflecting the knee-jerk appeasement with grace. “I need you to tell me you’re innocent of what they’re accusing you of on TV.”

Even though Tristan didn’t make a threat or even hint at anything along those lines, Cole somehow felt that a lie would be detected instantly by those softly contoured ears or those deep, colorful eyes. Before his baser instincts dragged him any further down into that sweetly scented trap, he told her, “It was a setup. Those cops were set up as targets and we were set up to knock them down. If we didn’t do it, I’m guessing the Nymar would have made it look like we did and then fed the same shit to the press.”

After taking a moment to size him up the old-fashioned way, the Dryad nodded and said, “I believe you. What I said before about not using our bridges still goes. Until this legal mess gets straightened out, we’ll only be able to transport Skinners when it’s absolutely necessary. You and Paige are different, though. I owe you two more than I can repay, which means you can come and go through our temples as often as I can.”

“What about Prophet?”

Tristan smiled with so much warmth that it cheapened her previous attempts. “He’s a cutie,” she said. “He had plenty of chances to make things tough for me, but worked to smooth them out instead. He’s got a free pass too.” Placing her hand on Cole’s arm, she quickly added, “But don’t tell him I said
that. Just tell him he can come and check with us if he needs to.”

“I’ll do that.”

“Should I get things set up for Denver? I’ll need to make a few calls but should be able to get you there.”

“Yeah, do that. I really appreciate it, Tristan.”

“I know you do. That’s why you still get the VIP treatment, and the rest of those cocky, stick-wielding jerks have to go to the back of the line.”

Watching a Dryad walk away was an event unto itself. No matter what was going on with the rest of the world, Cole felt his muscles loosen as his eyes followed the mesmerizing sway of her hips. Well, some of his muscles loosened. It was definitely easy to see how a shipload of sailors from centuries past could be drawn off course by catching sight of similar creatures frolicking topless in the waves.

“Paige already talked to Stanze,” Rico announced as he stomped down the hall from the opposite direction. “She’s meeting up with him now.” He slapped the phone against Cole’s chest and said, “Here. You call Prophet and I’ll tidy up the back room. I’ll convince that other one what a bad idea it would be to bring any of his buddies back here. There’s an art to these things,” he declared with a grin.

No matter how badly Rico obviously wanted to discuss his art, Cole wasn’t in the mood. He let the big man go and then dialed Prophet’s number. The bounty hunter answered on the third ring.

Completely stepping past any hellos or how-are-yous, Prophet said, “Tell me you guys ain’t involved with this cop shooting business.”

“I could tell you that, but …”

“Aww, Jesus Christ. How bad is it?”

“It’s a setup. I can tell you the rest later. How about we meet in Denver?”

“Only if we go after those Nymar that Stanley’s been on my ass about.”

“You talked me into it,” Cole said. “What can you tell us about those guys?”

“I’ve got a whole damn file. They’re more of a gang than
anything else. Maybe even like a crime family. No, that’s giving them too much credit. I’ll go with gang. Not just some street gang, but more like—”

“It’s so much easier when you just have some crazy dream and give us a warning,” Cole grumbled. “Remember that? I miss those days.”

Prophet’s tone shifted into something that allowed him to scowl across a digital phone line. “Funny thing about those dreams. I need to sleep in order for them to hit. Ever since you asked me to watch your back in some creepy-as-hell basement in Philadelphia so we could steal a prized possession from a bunch of armed and dangerous, lunatic monster hunters, my sleep schedule ain’t been too great. Oh, and finding out that the possession we were taking was the mutilated chunks of a werewolf, any dreams I might have had after that ain’t exactly the ones I want either.”

“Point taken. What did you mean before when you said ‘wait for
us
to get there’?”

After a short pause, Prophet continued without the gruff tone in his voice. “Me and the Amriany.”

“You’re still following them?”

“Actually, they’re following me. From a real close distance.”

“They caught you, didn’t they?”

“Caught
sounds so sinister. They’re after the same thing you are, anyway.”

“Really? What might that be?”

“They want to recover some of that Lancroft crap, but they also caught wind of some Nymar taking their business overseas. One of them named Hope is traveling with a group that’s been putting together some sort of organization. They already got their communications set up. They’ve been collecting weapons. They got plenty of intelligence on Skinners and now they’re looking to take you out.”

“So if they’re getting so comfortable here, why would they want to leave the U.S.?” Cole asked.

“That’s what these Amriany want to find out. Drina, she’s the blonde, she thinks one of the Nymar groups that are definitely involved in this uprising will have a computer with
some good intel on it or numbers on their phones they can use. I’ve been trying to steer them to Denver, but they got a line on a group down in Texas.”

“San Antonio?”

“Yeah,” Prophet said in a voice that made it easy for Cole to picture the surprised look on his face. “How’d you know about that?”

“Never mind. How’d the Amriany get out of Philly?”

“Drove, then flew. They got a real nice setup, Cole. Kind of puts you guys to shame. Not that it’s too hard to put a shit-box Chevy to shame, but I’m talking charter planes and the works. These Gypsies have some serious funding.”

“You might not want to let them hear you call them that. They’re a bit sensitive about the G word.”

“Believe me, I understand that kind of aggravation. I still need to check the African-American box on more official forms than I can count. My dad’s Jamaican and Mom’s from Cuba. How the hell does that make me African American? You’re rolling your eyes now, right?”

“Yeah, Prophet. Big-time.”

“I’ll see about getting us to Denver.”

“Tell them we’re planning on hitting them hard. The last thing those Nymar will be expecting is another team sneaking in while the fireworks are going. Even below that on the list would be a team of Amriany. As long as your new buddies are willing to cooperate and share what they find, we don’t have any problem with letting them in on this.”

“You’ve got the pull to guarantee that?” Prophet asked cautiously.

“There’s just me and Rico here, so yeah. I’ve got the pull.”

“What about Paige?”

“I’m sure she’ll find a way to get there.”

“You don’t sound thrilled about that.”

“Can you get to Denver or not?” Cole quickly asked. “Considering everything they’ve been saying about you guys, that shouldn’t be too difficult.”

“What have they been saying?”

“‘Bye.”

Cole looked at the phone as if Prophet might somehow
be looking back at him. All he saw was a reflection of his face and a red message telling him his call had come to an end.

“You done out here?” Rico asked as he stepped into the hall.

The latest round of dance mixes had come to an end, which meant the dancers were starting to hustle backstage again. A few of the Dryads were among them. They stood out like finely cut crystal goblets scattered among a collection of free cups collected from fast-food movie tie-ins. Considering how attractive Pinups’ human dancers were, that was saying a lot. Elle whispered something to the ladies in her group, which kept the whole procession moving right past the Skinners.

“Yeah,” Cole said as he tucked his phone away. “I’m done.”

They tagged along with the trio of girls heading for the main stages, savoring the mixed scents of body sprays and female skin. All three were human, and drinking them in was like a welcome bit of familiar cooking. Hooray for the home team.

The procession stopped at a door that would have blended in perfectly with the black wall if not for the handle outlined in white tape. The girls opened it without having to look at what they were doing, and Cole stopped in his tracks when he saw Tristan in the main room. She leaned against a table in a pose that wasn’t quite the same as the one she struck when prowling for lap dances. Shifting her eyes toward the door at the back of the room, she looked straight past the three dancers and locked eyes with Cole.

Something was wrong.

His fingers curled in to brush against his palms. Whoever those guys at Tristan’s table were, they weren’t Nymar or shapeshifters. They sat away from the glare of lights without being coated in black stripes, so they weren’t carrying a Shadow Spore. Both of the men were dressed in simple, inexpensive clothes resembling the ensembles of every other paying customer in the place. One of them was in his late twenties or early thirties. He angrily said something to make
Tristan look at him, while the older man followed her previous line of sight to the stage door. Even though Cole had pulled back enough to hide within the shadows filling the doorway, he knew he might have already been spotted.

Heavy steps sounded behind him, but Cole didn’t need to turn around. The rustle of Rico’s leather jacket was more than enough to give him away. Thanks to the cold weather, the leather had hardened into something closer to a shell than the smoother material of the Full Blood coat.

“Never thought I’d get sick of hangin’ out in strip bars,” Rico muttered. “Tristan out there?”

“She’s talking to someone. Doesn’t look like it’s for official dancer business either.”

Placing a hand on Cole’s shoulder to keep him in place, Rico leaned forward to get a look for himself. He almost immediately leaned back again and snarled, “Shit. Cops.”

“How can you tell?”

“Well, they ain’t Nymar. There’s two of them, and they ain’t buddies out to see some bare ass, because they ain’t grinnin’ from ear to ear with Tristan being so close. Look at the way they’re talkin’ to her. One’s asking questions and the other’s scanning the room. Keeps looking over here. Did you poke your nose out too far?”

“Maybe a little.”

“They’re cops. I’ve had enough of them sniffing around after me that I can damn near smell the doughnut frosting on their fingers.”

Cole shook his head and eased the door shut. There was a narrow slot filled with tinted plastic just wide enough for a dancer to get a look out to see if an unwanted admirer was waiting for her next set. Although he couldn’t see as much as before, Cole could make out the shapes at Tristan’s table if he squinted just right.

“Come with me.”

Those three words drifted through the air without the slightest bit of warning. Both Skinners wheeled around with their hands headed for their weapons before they caught sight of Elle standing behind them.

“You’d better go now,” she said. “Those policemen were
asking about you, and it’s not like we can refuse if they insist on searching.”

“Sure you can,” Rico chided.

If Elle had been even slightly intimidated by the Skinners, she didn’t show it as she grabbed hold of Rico’s jacket and dragged him away from the stage door.

Allowing himself to be pulled down the hall, he looked over his shoulder and said, “See? Told you they were cops.”

She led them all the way around the back of the club to the room that had been made into the Dryad temple. The first time Cole had seen the flowing script covering the smooth walls of a similar temple, he was fascinated. Now, it hit him on the same nerve as watching his bus pull up to the curb.

“Will this take us to Denver?” he asked.

Another Dryad was near the edge of the curtain, swaying slowly and humming in time to the thumping beat that filled the club. “No,” Elle said. “It’s to a club in Boulder, but it’s the best we could do. There seems to be some trouble at the Denver clubs.”

“Nymar?”

“No. More police. All of our sisters are staying out of sight in case more Nymar are following all the Skinners going back and forth. I don’t need to tell you what sort of trouble it would be if they found us.”

After having that thing inside him, Cole could still feel a pang of hunger at the very notion of opening one of those beautiful women’s veins and drawing their precious fluid into his stomach. He was still fuzzy on the difference between a Dryad and a nymph, other than a Dryad was supposedly much older and more experienced. Sort of the supernatural equivalent of a MILF. All he knew was that the longer he stood among them, the harder it was to resist. Before his resolve was tested further, he was shoved through the beaded curtain and sent toppling through the breezy in-between that smelled of freshly cut timber and felt like an autumn breeze.

Something was different this time. The trips had always seemed instantaneous before, but this was a bizarre nightmare
where the room around him melted away, leaving only phantom glimpses of things he could hold on to. His stomach dropped. Voices screamed in his mind. Music raked against his inner ear. Heartbeats pounded against him like invisible fists, and when he tried to fight them off, his fingers became entangled in what felt like a blanket of cobwebs so thick he could hear it tearing.

Upon reaching the other side of the bridge, Cole flopped onto his side and hit a floor identical to the one he’d left behind. The music was different, however, as was the scent of the body spray worn by the dancer who helped him up.