Vendetta (Legend of the Ir'Indicti #4) (3 page)

"Uh, Ashe, did you just say you set the water on fire?" Trace stared at Ashe, disbelief plainly displayed in his eyes.

"Yeah. Those pages Tony Hancock gave me about the Elemaiya? The person who translated that stuff said something about manipulating the elements. He said somebody really talented in that area might be able to burn oxygen from the air. Well, water has oxygen in it, too. I just did a little extrapolation. I have no idea if there were any fish in the canal. If there were, they likely died of oxygen starvation." Ashe felt bad about that. He felt horrible about burning sixteen Elemaiya, too, but they were out to kill others and attempting to take him. Ashe couldn't let that happen.

"I didn't hear any reports of dead fish," Winkler said dryly.

"Mr. Winkler, I think I killed all those people," Ashe whispered. "All those Elemaiya."

"Ashe, you can't worry about that," Winkler's dark eyes raked Ashe's face. "They'd already killed some of ours and would have killed others, and then they'd have killed or kidnapped you. You did what had to be done; don't ever think otherwise." Winkler breathed a fatigued sigh. "Kid, I've gotten research from Matt Michaels; he tallied up the number of deaths related to that fertility clinic. We estimate at least six hundred eighty-five deaths of children, ranging from preteen to early twenties, and those are the ones we can confirm. Those are murders, Ashe, plain and simple. That doesn't include all the reported kidnappings, or the human boy who died outside Cloud Chief's boundary. Who knows how many other humans have died just by being in their way? This is a war between them, and they don't care who falls."

Ashe couldn't speak around the lump in his throat. He settled for nodding instead. "Here," Winkler tapped the water bottle on Ashe's table tray. Ashe removed the cap and drank. He didn't say what he'd been thinking the past few days—that Earth looked to be the battleground the Elemaiya had chosen to pursue their wars. And people like the Tanners fell right in with them, working together to take whatever they wanted in order to further their cause. He thought about Sali and Dori in the clutches of drug runners and shivered.

"Kid, it'll be all right," Winkler patted Ashe's shoulder lightly.

"Mr. Winkler, there's something else you need to know," Ashe heaved a shaky sigh.

"What's that?"

Ashe peeled back the left sleeve of his knit polo, revealing the biceps and triceps that Trajan had been working on in the weight room. Surrounding his upper arm, much like a tattoo might, were eight square gold medallions with unusual markings. They shone with the brightness of newly minted gold coins.

Winkler swore when he saw them. "What the hell is that, Ashe? Did you get a tattoo?"

"No, sir. These were on my arm the morning after the whole Star Cove thing. I went to sleep in my old bedroom in Cloud Chief and woke up with these. They're not tattoos. As far as I know, there's no ink that will come out gold like that." Ashe lowered his sleeve over the flat, gold images.

"They look like some of those transfers—you know—like the ones they wear at football games and stuff?" Trajan was up and lifting Ashe's sleeve again.

"But these don't scrub off—I've already tried," Ashe muttered. "They're not going anywhere. And if I pick at 'em, I start heaving."

"You're kidding?" Winkler stared at the eight medallions, moving Ashe's arm this way and that to see them more clearly.

"Not kidding. I don't know what they are, but they're here to stay." Ashe pulled his arm away. The medallions were beginning to itch and burn with all the handling. He felt immediate relief when people stopped touching them. Now more than ever, he wished that the Vampire Council had given him more information on the Elemaiya. The three pages they'd offered weren't nearly enough.

"I have to make a phone call," Winkler unbuckled his seat belt and walked to the front of the jet where Buck and Andy were seated. Ashe watched as the Dallas Packmaster pulled out a cell phone and made a call. With the noise of the jet and Trajan suddenly asking more questions about what happened in Star Cove, Ashe couldn't make out Winkler's words.

* * *

"He has eight square medallions circling his upper arm, like a tattoo," Winkler said. "He doesn't know where they came from and it upsets him if anybody touches them. He said he tried to pick at them and it made him nauseous. Is there anything in the information you have that explains this?" Winkler had dialed the Head of the Vampire Council immediately. Night still lay over England—perhaps one or two hours remained before dawn arrived. Winkler wanted to insist that all information be given to Ashe, but knew better than to demand anything from the vampires. It was tricky dealing with them. At the moment, Winkler was playing his hand carefully with Wlodek. At least Wlodek was answering his calls. For now.

"Give us time to do research," Wlodek replied smoothly, making Winkler want to curse. Wlodek, like most vampires, had a very good memory and likely knew much already. For whatever reason, he wasn't willing to give information to Winkler.

"Thank you for your assistance, Honored One," Winkler said respectfully. Wlodek ended the call.

* * *

"Charles," Wlodek leveled a glance at his assistant, "Go through the records and learn what the precedents and adverse effects are regarding underage turning." Charles stood in shock for seconds before going to do as the Honored One requested.

* * *

"Mr. Winkler will bring him here; he has transportation waiting at the airport," Marcus reminded a restless Sali. The young werewolf stalked a path through the kitchen, media room and then through the patio doors to the deck. Marco shook his head at Sali's impatience. Sali wanted to drive to the airport and meet Ashe there, but Marcus held him back. Nathan and Lavonna were doing the same—keeping Dori and Cori inside the house. Dori was also upset, for many reasons. Marco's cell buzzed.

"It's Winkler," Marco whispered and answered the call.

"We're on the ground. Probably be there in forty-five." Winkler hung up. Marcus heard Winkler's voice clearly on the other end.

"Come on, they'll go to Adele and Aedan's," Marcus jerked his head toward the door. Denise, Marco and Sali followed him as he left the house.

* * *

"Aedan, please stay calm. He thought to protect us," Adele's hands shook as she attempted to calm her husband. Aedan was pacing, much as Sali had been. When the doorbell rang, Adele went to answer it, ushering the DeLucas and the Andersons inside. Marco had called Cori quickly as he followed his father out the door, and she'd shared the information with Dori and her parents. Now they were all gathering inside the Evans home to wait. Adele offered drinks, but there were no takers. All of them were waiting for Ashe to arrive.

* * *

"Winkler, I think the boy's about to be sick," Trajan warned. Sam Sheridan, Winkler's brother-in-law, had come to pick them up at the airport. He jerked the van over and Winkler shoved the door open just in time for Ashe to lean out and heave. Winkler accepted a bottle of water from Trace and handed it to Ashe when the bout of nausea looked to be over. Ashe rinsed out his mouth, embarrassed that this had happened in front of a van loaded with werewolves, including Winkler, Trajan and Trace.

"It's understandable," Winkler offered a wad of tissues so Ashe could clean himself up. Feeling shaky, Ashe climbed back in the van and the journey continued. Twenty minutes later and feeling sick again, Ashe arrived at his home in Star Cove.

"Here he is, a little shaky and nauseous," Winkler said quietly as he and Trajan brought Ashe inside the Evans home. Ashe was grateful for Trajan's arm around his shoulders. He wasn't sure he could walk into the house on his own without it.

Adele ran straight to Ashe and hugged him while Winkler and Trajan stepped out of the way. She was weeping, just as Ashe feared she would. His father stood nearby, a stricken look on his face. Nathan, Marcus and both families were in the background. Sali was growling; Ashe heard it over his mother's crying. Adele finally stepped away. Ashe was about to apologize for worrying everyone when Dori rushed forward, slapped him as hard as she could and ran out the door.

* * *

"Son, we're all upset. We thought the worst," Aedan handed an ice pack to Ashe, who held it to his throbbing jaw. Who knew Dori could hit that hard? It stood to reason, though—she was an ocelot shapeshifter with a lioness mother and a vampire father. Ashe figured there was more of Nathan in Dori than anyone knew. Adele hovered nearby—Nathan and Lavonna had hurried out the door after Dori. Cori, Marco, Sali, Marcus and Denise were still there, and Wynn had come in with her parents. Now, Sali was holding onto Wynn while they watched Ashe curiously. Winkler and his small group of werewolves were doing their best to stay out of the way.

"Dad, I didn't mean to hurt anybody. You have to believe that." Ashe's queasiness hadn't gone away—in fact, it was worse. He worried that he might have to mist to the bathroom.

"Honey, I know you were trying to protect all of us. But we're stronger than you think," Adele soothed. "We lost a few, but they lost a lot. Ask Mr. Winkler. That Tanner jerk brought at least fifty wolves with him, and he had Elemaiya there, too. Only three werewolves got away, and they were swimming. There's a good chance they didn't make it. Mr. Michaels had his agents send out boats, but we haven't heard anything."

"He found Congressman Jack Howard floating unconscious in a raft, but that's it so far," Winkler said. "The esteemed Congressman is now in an Austin jail, waiting to be sent to D.C." He didn't add that the Grand Master had passed information to Matt Michaels on Tanner's compound outside Juarez—only time would tell if that information paid off. He also didn't add that Jack Howard admitted to Matt's agents that Ezekiel Tanner was still alive. That fact was one of several reasons Winkler was back in Corpus Christi—Weldon Harper asked him to stay in the area in case help was needed to track Tanner.

"They need to lock that creep up forever," Ashe muttered, meaning Jack Howard.

"Honey, you shouldn't worry about that right now," his mother said. "Are you hungry? Thirsty? You look tired."

"He was sick on the way here," Trajan said. "Probably from not eating properly." Ashe silently thanked Winkler's Second for not saying it was nerves.

"Not hungry, Mom," Ashe mumbled. The ice pack was numbing his jaw nicely.

"He's been sleeping on the floor," Winkler pointed out. "Might be nice to lie on a bed for a change."

"Certainly. We can sort this out later," Aedan said. Everyone scurried from the Evans home shortly after, while Aedan pulled the ice pack away to examine Ashe's jaw. "Might be bruised a little," he assessed, allowing Ashe to replace the pack. "Take a shower and get in bed, son. We'll talk tomorrow."

"All right." Ashe slid off the barstool at the kitchen island and walked toward the stairs.

* * *

Ashe glanced briefly at his computer after stepping out of the shower and toweling off—it felt good to be clean. Sighing, Ashe ignored the computer, pulled the covers back on his bed and climbed in. He fell asleep immediately.

* * *

"Mr. Winkler is staying in the house Marcie and Jason had," Adele said at breakfast the following morning. Trace had arrived moments earlier and was now sitting at the breakfast bar, having a plate of food with Adele and Ashe. Trajan winked at Ashe as he settled on a barstool to eat breakfast.

"Trajan, Ace and I are staying in the house with Winkler; the others are moving into the empty house next door. We lost Gene on St. Joseph Island," Trace mumbled around a mouthful of food. "Gabe, too," Trace added before sipping coffee. Ashe nodded. He'd liked Gene, Gabe and Spencer. They'd always treated him well, unlike other werewolves under Winkler's command. But Jimmy, Winkler's werewolf cook—Ashe would miss him most of all. "Mom, did they have a service for them? For Jimmy, too?"

"There was a nice service held in Shirley's groves, for all the fallen. Only the werewolves know where they're buried. To keep their secrets, you know, since some died as wolves." Adele settled at the island with a cup of coffee.

"Yeah. I understand that. What about Dominic Pruitt—Jackson's dad?"

"Dead, too. They buried the rogues at sea. Marcie identified him, since he died as wolf."

"He got his own son killed." Ashe had trouble accepting that. "Just signed right up with Tanner and his rogues. He was going to force Jackson to work as a drug runner."

"People do terrible things every day, Ashe. We can only do as much as we can do to stop all of it." Winkler walked in with Ace and Trajan. "We've got the weight and exercise room set up at the school. And I haven't let you go, yet. You still work for me," Winkler ruffled Ashe's hair. "Andy could use your help, most likely."

"How did you get in here?" Adele gave Winkler a speculative glare.

"Master key." Winkler held up the key in question. "Sorry. Won't happen again. We just heard you talking and came on in so you wouldn't have to walk to the front door."

"Once is okay. Twice and I'll bomb you from overhead," Adele shook a finger at Winkler.

"Fair enough," he laughed.

"Feeling better today?" Trajan asked Ashe.

"A little. Want breakfast? We have enough eggs to serve everybody, I think."

"Yeah." Winkler and the others settled in at the island. Ashe helped his mother make bacon, eggs and toast for all of them. Adele poured coffee while they waited for food to cook.