"I'm glad we were able to do something about it," Zeke tossed a pistol on his desk after making sure it was empty of bullets. "How did you know this would work?" Zeke turned to Wildrif.
"Narcotics have that effect on the race—it dampens their abilities, sometimes for months. This particular drug is the worst—it is one of the Elemaiya's few weaknesses. Only the most foolish have ever experimented with this drug, as it leaves them helpless."
"This is gonna toss a big wrench into the works," Zeke chuckled. "That kid doesn't show up when his mother gets hit. She dies; he goes crazy and then goes after both sides. They pay us even more money to give them information so they can find him first. What more can you ask for?"
Wildrif's answering laughter sounded evil, even to Zeke's ears.
* * *
"I gave him enough," Jude Gilmore, the werewolf nurse, snarled as the gun was waved in his face. "Are you going to release my wife, now?"
"You should stick to your own kind," the tracker growled. "But thanks for giving us a weak human as a hostage. Breathe a word of this to your Packmaster and we come after your wife again."
"I'll be quiet, just stay the hell away from us," Jude replied.
* * *
"Shirley can't find Jude. Tried calling his cell three times," Weldon muttered angrily.
"So we have no idea what the kid was given," Winkler said.
"We can't take him to the hospital for tests—we don't have the time and we can't explain how he got the stuff or the healing bullet wound."
"Yeah. Should have suspected something when the kid slept so long."
"Jude's been trustworthy until now. There wasn't any reason to suspect," Weldon attempted to calm Winkler, who'd started growling in frustration. "Look, we'll have our hands full tonight. No need to add to the stress."
"I want to kill Gilmore over this. If he was pressured or blackmailed, we could have helped. Instead, we can't find him now and the kid's talents are compromised."
"Is there anyone we can contact who might have information on this—on why this is causing problems for Ashe?" Weldon leaned back in his chair. He and Winkler were in Winkler's study; Matt Michaels was on the deck with Trace and Trajan, going through the weapons cache he'd brought with him.
"I don't personally know anybody else who has Elemaiyan blood except Lissa's father. I have no idea how to contact him, and I sure as hell don't want to see him if I can help it."
"I agree. He's not an option," Weldon nodded. "We don't have time to track any of the others down again, and I really don't want to do that anyway. Not after recent events."
"Matt wants them dead or off the planet. I'd feel safer if they were gone. Who knows how many deaths they're responsible for? Those kids for sure, and nobody knows who else has gotten in their way over the years."
"Salidar said there were children at the Elemaiya camp in Canada. Only a few, but kids were there," Weldon sighed. "I asked Marcus, who gave me information after he questioned his son. I had wolves check out the site, and I'm sure Matt sent some of his, but the Elemaiya never went back once they left. I don't know where they moved, but it's a sure bet they're around somewhere."
* * *
"Mrs. Evans, we're almost out of shrimp." One of Adele's new hires blinked hopefully at Adele, as if she might conjure more shrimp from a magical location to serve her patrons.
"How much do we have left?" Adele was helping out in the kitchen—there'd been a bigger crowd than usual for a busy Friday night. Adele would be lucky to get the restaurant cleaned and everything prepped for the following day before twelve-thirty—meaning she'd get home after one in the morning.
"Maybe fifteen pounds."
"Is the crowd thinning at all?"
"Maybe a little."
"I'll come take a look. Get back to your tables, I'll check into this. If we have to pull shrimp off the menu, we'll do it. I have a truck coming tomorrow at eleven with another delivery."
Adele brushed back straying strands of honey-blonde hair and smoothed her embroidered apron as she stepped out of the kitchen, gazing toward the hostess stand near the front door. Breathing a sigh of relief, Adele turned to walk back to the kitchen. Closing was half an hour away and there weren't any customers waiting to get into the restaurant. "We'll make it," she muttered and went back to preparing clam chowder.
* * *
Wlodek boarded the jet as the pilots and flight attendant bowed respectfully to the Head of the Vampire Council. This was a last-minute trip that Wlodek decided to take, and he hoped for a successful and equitable outcome.
"I have bagged blood if you'd like," the attendant allowed Wlodek to settle on his seat.
"I am comfortable," Wlodek waved the two-hundred-year-old vampire away. "I will call if I have any needs."
"Of course." The attendant bowed again and backed away. Wlodek pulled out his cell phone to make a call.
"Honored One?" Charles answered promptly.
"Inform Flavio that I am traveling."
"I will. I haven't spoken with my sire for two weeks. He will appreciate hearing from me."
"He will." Wlodek agreed and ended the call.
* * *
On my way, the text read. Winkler glanced up at his waiting army and nodded. They'd gathered on his wide, back deck. Winkler had Gavin and Tony, but found himself wishing he had Nathan Anderson and Aedan Evans with him, too. It never hurt to have vamps backing you up when you didn't know how many enemies to expect.
The Grand Master stood beside Winkler, surveying their troops. Matt Michaels was dressed in body armor and had a semi-automatic rifle slung over a shoulder. Gavin and Tony stood together, both dressed comfortably in jeans and pullovers for ease of movement. Trace, Marco and Ace had turned to wolf, while Trajan was prepared to do the same. Nobody knew how many of Tanner's trackers might appear, so it was best to cover all bases. Buck, Andy and Loren stood behind Trajan, each armed with a rifle and a pistol.
"They're on their way," Winkler said softly, pocketing his cell.
"Everybody ready to go?" The Grand Master asked. Nods came from everyone.
* * *
Ten minutes. Ten minutes before daylight would arrive, bringing with it an end to his suffering. Aedan settled on a large, flat rock positioned outside the underground safe house. For centuries, the stone had guided vampires to the safe house, which offered sanctuary from the rising sun. On this day, the stone would witness the destruction of vampire life instead of its salvation. Aedan knew the winds and coming rain would wash away his ash. A fitting end for any vampire born in the country called Ireland.