"Why don't you ask Amos if he'd like a job? He can help guard the perimeter and get a little exercise, too. That way he won't miss his wife's cooking during the week," Trajan grinned. "He used to guard Cloud Chief. All he can do at Star Cove is sit inside that dinky guard shack."
"Then offer both of them a job," Winkler nodded.
"I'll call first thing in the morning, and tell the wolves they have to behave."
"If they don't want the job, see if anybody else in Star Cove is interested."
"Will do, Boss."
* * *
"Peyton, you've been in the same place for too long." Zeke's growl worried Peyton. "Did you think I wouldn't have a locator on that cell I gave you?"
Peyton gulped. He hadn't considered that, and he knew he should have. "Just getting my bearings, Mr. Tanner," Peyton replied, attempting to keep his voice calm and even. Zeke could smell fear from a hundred miles away.
"I expect you to be in Corpus Christi by tomorrow," Zeke snapped. "If I see you haven't moved, I'll send somebody after you. Got it?"
"Yeah. I'll be in Corpus by nightfall tomorrow."
"Good. We'll discuss a game plan when you get there."
* * *
Kid, what are we waiting for? Tony sent mindspeech to Ashe. He, Gavin and Ashe were hidden behind a forklift inside a darkened warehouse. Surrounding them were crates, boxes and supports filled with grenades, bullets, shells, rocket launchers and all sorts of weapons.
Six Elemaiya. The dark kind. With explosives bought from Rydley Huntington, Ashe replied. You take care of the Elemaiya. I'll handle the explosives.
What do you plan to do with the bodies? Tony asked.
Send them back where they came from, Ashe's mental voice was grim. It'll cause trouble down the road, but it could mean bigger trouble in the interim.
That's very comforting, Tony's response was sarcastic.
You used to do this kind of crap for a living. Vampirism has definitely gone to your head.
Don't get smart with me.
Then get smart with yourself. Look around you. What will this do if we let it happen? The nation goes on lockdown, people start looking for terrorists under their beds and wars start. End of story.
Kid, the vamps generally stay out of human affairs.
Except for those who work for Matt Michaels. Or the ones Wlodek has stashed here and there around the globe, so he can keep his fingers in every pie. Except for those, you mean?
Kid, watch your mouth.
Get ready, Ashe warned, just as six Elemaiya appeared inside the warehouse.
* * *
"What the hell?" Winkler and Trajan were drinking their sodas on the deck and watching the waves roll in under a waning moon when Winkler received the text from an unknown source.
Hello, Mr. Winkler, the message began. My name is Peyton Miller. I've been working for Zeke Tanner in Mexico for more than twenty years. I've managed to get away from him, but he'll be hunting me, soon. He's hunting you, too. I'd like to meet with you and share information, in exchange for protection. Trajan was beside Winkler's chair quickly and reading over Winkler's shoulder.
"What the hell?" Trajan repeated Winkler's confused statement.
* * *
Peyton ground the cell Zeke Tanner had given him under his heel, destroying it as best he could. He'd just purchased another cell at a discount store and used it to contact William Winkler. He'd gotten Winkler's number from Zeke, who'd gotten it from another source. It didn't matter now—Peyton's life hung in the balance, and he'd prefer a quicker death from the Grand Master than what he'd likely get from Zeke and his trackers. No matter what happened, Peyton would be traveling to Corpus Christi. If Winkler agreed to meet with him, whether to kill him or listen to what he had to say, he no longer cared. Peyton was tired of the drugs and the killings.
* * *
Gavin Montegue, ancient vampire that he was, had never seen anything like this. Ashe, holding out a hand, had caused knapsacks filled with explosives to disintegrate and float away as harmless sparks. Six headless bodies littered the concrete floor of the base warehouse—Gavin and Tony had seen to that. Ashe now contemplated the bodies while a wave of nausea hit him.
"Kid, don't get sick. I hate that smell," Tony whined.
"I'll be fine," Ashe rasped, drawing in a shaky breath. "I just have to get it out of my mind before I send them back to Baltis."
"Baltis?"
"King of the Dark Elemaiya. He was doing this in retaliation for his brother's death in Chicago."
"One of those Matt Michaels and a few vamps took out?"
"Yeah. Baltis doesn't have much recourse against the vamps—and he's scared witless of you guys anyway. You move too fast. Humans, though, he doesn't mind killing because he's gotten away with it too many times."
"Young one, might we move faster? Anthony, stop distracting him," Gavin muttered.
"Gotcha," Ashe mumbled, holding out a hand again. The six bodies, with their heads, disappeared. "Now, all we have to do is clean up the blood and any evidence that we were here and we're good."
* * *
"We have to move swiftly." Wildrif was pulling off his clothing while one of two werewolves dressed a mangled, unrecognizable shapeshifter in Wildrif's discarded clothing. Wildrif had more clothing brought by the werewolves, but he'd just had a vision of six headless bodies appearing at Baltis' feet back in the camp. Wildrif's life would be worthless if Baltis found him again.
It didn't matter; Wildrif still had his contacts with the Bright Queen, and she was more than willing to listen. Zeke Tanner, too, would be putty in his hands. Wildrif had spent years building trust with both, and they would willingly listen to anything he suggested. Things were falling into place surprisingly well. Who cared if the Earth was destroyed, as long as Wildrif's revenge could be served?
* * *
Baltis' rage could not be contained. Ruin had contacted Raze, who as yet didn't realize what had happened. Six bodies and their disconnected heads lay at Baltis' feet, and he had already destroyed the tent and most of his belongings. Dark Elemaiya fled from Baltis' wrath, as he pulled energy from his crown to blast the sands beneath his feet.
Chapter 8
"Hello, Rydley. Didn't expect us, did you?" Tony grinned at Rydley Huntington. The house in Atlanta where Ashe had taken Gavin and Tony was quite large. Rydley had employed compulsion to convince the wealthy owner to allow him access to his home and his extensive bank account. Explosives filled the six-car garage, too, forcing the human occupant to leave his expensive automobiles parked in the driveway.