"I haven't seen one of these in a while," Paul picked up the crossbow and bent the bowstring back, locking it in place. He placed one of the wooden arrows in the arrow groove and pointed it toward the wall. Tony had gotten them to a shooting range to practice. Paul pointed the crossbow at a paper target and pulled the trigger, hitting the outline of the man on the left side of the chest.
"Not bad for someone a hundred and twenty, now is it?" Paul grinned. Tony's cell rang. Deryn and Paul both listened in.
"Those two have been asking around in Chatham," Tony's spy told him over the phone.
"You know to stay far away from them," Tony gave the warning yet again.
"Of course. They're at the Cock and Pig Pub, right now. We're about to drive on past, they just walked into the place."
"We can be there in fifteen minutes," Tony snapped the cell shut. "Bro, you know how to use this?" He tossed the flamethrower to Deryn.
"I'll figure it out on the way," Deryn grinned. They ran toward the car. Paul drove, Tony made another call. Charles answered and handed the phone off to Wlodek.
"Do you have someone in the Chatham area? Those two vampires are in the Cock and Pig Pub in Chatham, according to my sources," Tony informed Wlodek.
"Russell is nearby," Charles offered—he'd heard what Tony said.
"Get him on the phone," Wlodek ordered curtly. Merrill handed his cell over; Charles punched in the numbers. Russell answered right away.
"Are you anywhere near Chatham?" Charles asked Russell.
"About twenty minutes away," Russell replied.
"We may need you as backup," Charles informed him. "Two of Xenides' siblings—Julius and Quentin—are there, according to our sources. Anthony Hancock and two werewolves are on their way now."
"We've got someone coming to assist," Wlodek informed Tony. "Do not confuse him with the other two."
"Not a problem, I have photographs of the two I want," Tony replied and cut off the communication.
"Look, there it is," Deryn pointed out the pub so Paul pulled over to the side of the street quickly.
"I wish Lissa were here," Tony grumbled.
"Just hold the bloody thing behind your back," Paul instructed, as Tony loaded the crossbow before stuffing several more arrows in a deep pocket of his trench coat.
"Who do you think you're talking to, here?" Tony grumbled. "I'm ex special ops, you know."
"Then straighten up and act like it," Paul said, walking across the cobblestone street toward the pub.
Only two humans sat at the bar, their backs turned to Tony, Deryn and Paul as they entered. Julius and Quentin sat in a corner booth near the back. Deryn grinned and held the flamethrower behind him as best he could while Paul jerked his crossbow up and fired, hitting Julius square in the chest with a wooden dart. Julius began to jerk and spasm in the booth, attempting to pull the bolt out of his torso. Quentin lurched from his seat, fangs and claws out. Deryn fired the flamethrower and Tony added a dart in Quentin's chest when Deryn shut off the flames. Quentin dropped to the tiles, still burning. The humans at the bar, along with the bartender, hit the floor.
* * *
"Honored One, I only had to place compulsion on three humans; they think a smoking incident caused the fire damage," Russell grinned as he spoke with the Head of the Council. Russell was walking toward his car; he'd gotten the human and the two werewolves away already. "Julius and Quentin didn't even have time to blink, I'm sure. I got the bartender to sweep up and dispose of the ash, I have the clothing." Russell tossed the singed apparel into the back seat of his car before climbing into the driver's seat.
"Is there identification?"
"Yes, but some of it is charred a bit."
"As expected," Wlodek agreed. "Bring it. We're at the holding facility." Russell agreed and terminated the call.
* * *
My neck ached when I woke and it was difficult getting out of bed. I didn't remember getting myself into it, to be honest. Kifirin must have done it. I wanted to have a talk with him. Well, a yelling session might be closer to the truth. He'd put his teeth in my neck. What the hell was that about? I'd acted as if I was drunk the night before and, like a fool, had allowed him to do as he pleased. I walked into the bathroom across the hall and used a hand mirror to check the back of my neck—sure enough there were four large red dots, spaced about three inches apart on both sides of my neck. Kifirin had called them claiming marks. Maybe I should reciprocate. The schmuck.
I hunched over a bit as I walked through the rain to Dragon's dojo—he was finishing up when I came in to clean. "Hey, Dragon," I gave him a quick hug before going to get my dust mop and sweep the wood floors.
"Lissa, if you had been in my army when I was Warlord on Falchan, I would have slept better," Dragon grinned and let me go.
"Warlord, huh?" I smiled back at him. "Was it good to be you?"
"Sometimes. When Crane and Pheran Tiger weren't chewing on me."
"Dude, those two must be something. I wouldn't want to chew on you and I'm a vampire." That caused him to laugh—something that didn't happen often. Dragon had his shirt off and all his tattoos gleamed with sweat; he'd been working out again. He grabbed a shirt from his office and slipped it on. He was hungry, he informed me, and wanted to get something to eat before going home for the evening. I told him I'd lock up as he was leaving.
"Is the proprietor still in?" A man walked in the door about five minutes after Dragon left. I hadn't made it to the front door to lock up and now somebody was there. Cursing mentally, I set my dust mop aside and went to talk to the man.
"No, sorry. He left earlier," I told the guy. He was around five-ten or so, with very short hair that was nearly black and a three-pronged tattoo beneath his left eye. The scent of him was what held me, though, and I worked desperately to school my face into the vampire non-expression. "Would you like to leave a message?"
Dragon, I sent, we may have trouble. I went to find some paper when the man said that he would like to leave a message. I wouldn't have done anything, and been content just to let him go out the door and on his way, if he hadn't tried to place compulsion on me after writing out the message.
"You will make sure your employer is here tomorrow evening; I wish to speak to him personally," the man said. The compulsion was the slimiest I'd ever had to deal with, and it just slid off like all the others.