SCROLLS OF THE DEAD-3 Complete Vampire Novels-A Trilogy (78 page)

After the fiasco when they'd gone en masse after Ross and missed him by mere seconds, Upton stood before his army like a general who has lost the pivotal battle. He looked out over the sea of faces and waited in furious silence. Whoever had screwed up was going to show nervousness, and when he did, Upton would move.

He stood there, glaring, waiting with impatience. Most of the Predators understood what he was doing, so they didn't dare protest. Someone had let down their leader. Someone had leaked his thoughts, and Ross had picked them up and fled.

It took most of an hour, hundreds of men standing in an open field before one man who never even blinked.

Suddenly Upton moved like a whirlwind, the flanks opening as he sped through them to the betrayer. There was a wild scream as Upton closed on the Predator, knocking him to the ground and holding him down with one foot while he swung a machete at his neck.

Even before the first Predator's voice was cut off, another made a grunting sound and began to flee across the fields for the forest. Upton raised his hands to his jittery troops and went for the fleeing vampire himself. He caught him just inside the shadowed line of trees, ripping off one of his arms before killing him. The gathered Predators in the open field could hear the screams that filled the air, scaring birds from trees to send them flapping across the sky.

None of his other followers would make this mistake again, Upton vowed. But he had lost Ross, and it was Ross who could command so many of the enemy.

It was a terrible blow to his strategy. If he could not separate Ross and Mentor, his plan might fail.

Invading the city again, they had done considerable damage to the Predators under Ross and Mentor, but not enough to overpower them. They tried, but couldn't take control of the city. Their numbers were no more than two hundred now and soon even those would be found and killed—or they would skulk away in the night, deserting. Upton ranted constantly in his mind and verged on mental collapse.

In the nights he had taken over an empty penthouse on the top of one of Dallas' downtown skyscrapers. He stood at the wall of windows overlooking the spreading lights that went on for miles. It reminded him of the splendor of the penthouse he'd owned in Houston and the one he was about to buy in Dallas before Mentor spirited him away to Thailand.

Thailand. The years and years in a cell listening to the chiming of the bells by monastery monks. Thailand, the native home of the body he now possessed.

If he could catch Mentor and, with the help of some of his men, overpower him, he would take him back to Thailand and put him into a grave there.

If he couldn't yet control this one American city, what if he did take a prisoner? Mentor. Ross. The woman called Bette. Someone important to wreak his revenge on. He hadn't come with a big enough army. He hadn't trained them right. They were made up of malcontents both he and Balthazar had gathered. More than half of them owed allegiance to Balthazar and hardly knew Upton.

He hadn't taken his time. First Ross and Mentor had killed his partner, Balthazar, and then there were too many of their clans to track and kill. The cat and mouse game was almost at an end. Before it ended, Upton must do something. He wouldn't be denied one small victory over Mentor.

Leaving the penthouse he went to the street and called together several of his minions. They met in the deeper darkness of a canopy over the entrance to a closed restaurant. "I want to capture someone," he told them. "If you help me succeed, you'll be my captains. We can't win, we've already had too many casualties, but we can take a captive and leave the country. Stay with me and we'll leave, but we'll come back one day, and we'll be stronger and smarter next time."

They vowed they would do whatever he commanded and, together, they began to seek out an opponent worth capturing.

~*~

Malachi was more tired than any of his comrades. He had tried to stay near his mother, but she had proved to be a significant commander, and was busily sending out groups to various parts of town where she thought the renegades might hide.

Tonight Malachi walked the streets with just one Predator named Clifton. They had run into one another in an alley where Clifton had just murdered one of Upton's people. They decided to go on together, the way Mentor suggested they hunt. "Go alone," he'd warned, "and you'll have more chance of being caught and killed."

Already he and Clifton had searched out three renegades, two of whom begged for mercy. Malachi stood back while Clifton dealt the deathblows, but he felt nothing. A renegade Predator was of no use to anyone, not even himself. He might pretend to be reformed, but he could never be trusted.

"Have you sent word for someone to pick up these bodies?" Malachi asked.

"They're on the way."

A lone car drove slowly toward them, then passed. Malachi and Clifton stopped, looking back. The car was going too slowly. It stopped at the head of the alley where the three dead Predators lay.

Clifton started back, but Malachi took his arm. "Wait, let me take care of this."

He saw a large man exit the car and head down the alley. He followed him. He tapped his mind and discovered this was a police detective and his name was . . . Teal? Tealiski?

He joined him at the three corpses and touched him on the shoulder. The detective jumped, having never heard his approach.

"This isn't you business," Malachi said.

"What? Step back, son. I'm with the police."

"I know." Malachi said. He couldn't do harm to this man. He sent out an urgent plea for Mentor.

The man was saying, "You know?"

"Your shoes," Malachi said, playing for time. He pointed to the big man's large black shoes. They were discount city shoes. Undercover officers who didn't accept bribes couldn't afford better.

Teal's lips showed a ghost of a smile. "My shoes," he mumbled. He reached for his cell phone.

Malachi took hold of his hand. "Don't do that."

Teal's eyes hardened. His voice deepened. "Are you the killer of these men? What's going on here?"

If Mentor didn't appear soon, Malachi would have to restrain the detective. He'd never done any sort of violence against a human. He didn't want to have to do it now.

There was a twinkling that caught Malachi's eye. He knew the mortal wouldn't have noticed it. He turned his head and said, "He won't listen to me, Mentor."

Teal twirled around and faced the old vampire. "Where'd you come from?"

"Hello, Mr. Teal. Let's go for a walk, shall we? We're becoming old friends."

Teal's eyes narrowed and then the skin around his eyes relaxed. "Oh, yeah," he said. "A walk. Sure."

Malachi watched them move away from the bodies and back to the street. He sighed. He didn't know what he would have done if Mentor hadn't come.

He rejoined Clifton and told him what had happened. They laughed about the policeman. He'd never know what hit him.

They wandered for hours, rarely speaking. They looked deep into shadows. They threw out the nets of their natural telepathy, hunting for something out of the ordinary. They passed by humans, sending silent warnings to vacate the streets, they were in danger.

It was the hour when the city really slept the deepest. There were two more hours left before sunrise. The after-hour bars were closed and the traffic was almost nonexistent. Stoplights at intersections blinked monotonously, green, red, amber. Bugs gathered around lampposts, knocking themselves out to be near the light. No one walked the streets at three in the morning.

Malachi was musing about how much he and a Predator vampire were alike. He had always thought he was more like his father, more human than supernatural. But since assassins had been sent to kill him, he'd had to rely on anything but his human instincts. The more he used his inborn vampire abilities, the more he realized just how spectacular they were. The power was insidious and intoxicating. It made him feel omnipotent and indestructible. Which was a dangerous fantasy, of course, because even the most powerful vampire could be killed under the right circumstances. And he wasn't even a vampire.

As he argued with himself over the merits and faults of living the dichotomy that was his legacy, he paid little attention to his actual surroundings. He was relying on Clifton to be the lookout for any vampire presence. They were in the downtown area that seemed to draw some of the renegades after dark. Mentor thought it was because Upton was lying low there, drawn to the splendor of the lights and the tall buildings.

"He spent his life in the center of bustling cities," Mentor told them. "He's naturally drawn to the hub, the center, where he once lived like a king. It's why he wants this city first, why he picked it for his assault. You might think he's come out of revenge, come to punish me and Ross, but that's only half his motive. He used to run his massive conglomerate from here. With us out of the way, he could pick up the strings of his past life and start controlling the whole show again, taking over the corporation's board and installing a puppet chairman. He wants what he lost. He wants the money that fuels the power."

Charles Upton was a complicated individual, Malachi realized. There was more to him than a thirst for reprisal. He must have spent his years of imprisonment working out all the details. Mentor was right. Upton wanted the past back. He wanted to do it his way this time.

A swift warm wind kicked up, caressing Malachi's face. He smiled into it, pressing forward at Clifton's side. The first indication he was being hunted was when he saw Clifton slow and begin to swing his head back and forth like a hound, trying to pick up a scent.

Malachi suddenly knew that danger was close by. He took hold of Clifton's arm, halting him. They turned around, looking, but the streets and sidewalks were empty. "They're watching us," Clifton whispered.

"How long?"

"I just picked them up. There's . . . five of them."

Malachi wasn't afraid. He'd fought eight vampires at once in West Texas and he thought nothing could be worse than that. Besides, this time he had a weapon much more suited to the task. He hefted the machete from his belt loop and swung it at the end of his arm.

They began to move, backing up toward the granite wall of the nearest building when the attack started. Coming from above, miraculously descending from the air, the five renegades surrounded them before they reached the wall. Clifton leaped forward, slashing at the renegade nearest him, missing his mark. Malachi faced a renegade who stared angrily at him, an animal growl coming from his throat. As Malachi poised to strike, he saw the Predator's face change. It turned into a jungle cat with black fur and a wide mouth filled with razorlike fangs.

Malachi felt his heart go into deep freeze. The composite of man and jaguar was so startling it created a presence much more fearsome than that of Predator. It had to be Upton.

The transformation took Clifton's eyes off the others just for a second, and the whole group closed the circle in a flash.

Malachi hissed from between his teeth, swinging the machete above his head. Upton rushed him, coming under the machete and taking hold of the hand holding it. It happened so fast Malachi let out a surprised Ah sound and stumbled backward.

Tendons and muscles tore, and numbness took over his limb. He was forced to drop the weapon no matter how mighty a defense he put up. Now he was afraid. He had never been bested by a vampire. He realized suddenly that he had fought weaker creatures than Upton; Upton was not just a Predator, but one with the blood of Ross running in him, and the fire of revenge boiling in his soul. Had Malachi been less tired . . . or had he been with a group of strong Predators . . .

Now it was too late.

He felt Upton's Predators at his back, clawing at him. He saw a pair of vampires holding firmly onto Clifton, driving him to his knees.

Mom, Malachi thought desperately as his numb arm was being drawn hard behind his back. He struck at the Predator with the cat face over and over, but it was like swatting at an elephant. The blows bounced off the rock hard head of the cat, slipped on the fur, and fell away without having done any damage at all.

Now both his arms were bound behind him and the jaguar's snout came within inches of his face. "Malachi." He said the name as if it were a prayer. "Now I've got you," he said.

"You don't know me."

"A master always knows the weakest link," Upton said.

The feral eyes glowed, and a long pink raspy tongue slithered from the cat's lips to touch his cheek and slip up over one of his eyes. Malachi turned his head and saw Clifton's dead face staring up at him. They'd cut off his head and it had rolled near.

MOM! Oh, God, he thought. Oh, God.

"She's too far away. She won't get here in time. Come with me. We're going on a long journey, boy."

Malachi twisted and turned, trying to throw off his captors, but he couldn't. Not this time. These were tremendous creatures, much stronger than the ruffians sent after him under Balthazar's command. He knew now he had limitations. He'd been lulled into the belief he was indestructible. All his life he had escaped every harm, fought his way clear of every attack, and overcome every obstacle. Now this. He had come up against a creature unlike the others. He never thought Charles Upton would ever get near him. He wouldn't have imagined the vampire might want to capture him.

Upton took him by the back of his collar and hauled him off the ground. The two renegades at his back remained there, holding him, as they rose, too. The two Predators who had finished with Clifton hovered nearby.

"Say good-bye, Malachi. You won't be seeing your home again."

Mentor, Malachi cried. Save me!

~*~

Mentor hesitated, telepathically seeking the cause of the sudden disruption in the air. He had just come around a corner in the downtown district, the wind beginning to whip up the tails of his coat and abuse his long white hair. There had been no wind along the street from where he'd come. He had heard a telepathic cry for help from near this place.