Secrets in the Shadows (9 page)

***

Jules stopped frequently on his walk to reach out with his senses, but his vamp-dar, as Hannah called it, wasn’t all that strong. He could be surrounded and not even know it, as long as the enemy kept more than about a block away. But he’d known going into this that it was a long shot, and he was prepared to face the consequences if things went badly.

There was no reason to expect things to go badly tonight, though. This was merely a reconnaissance mission, not an attack. And though Ian might well be expecting him, Jules couldn’t believe his maker had nothing better to do than to sit in his house concentrating on sensing other vampires.

He’d asked the concierge at the hotel for a map of downtown, but of course the map was more concerned with tourist attractions than with places trespassing vampires could hide, so it hadn’t done him much good. As he approached the block where Ian’s house stood, though, he kept his eye out for good, unobtrusive hiding places and was gratified to see that like most cities, Baltimore had its share of dark, secluded alleys.

As he neared the house, he paused again, closing his eyes to block out all other senses as he reached out in search of vampires.

His eyes popped open as his pulse accelerated. He’d been looking for Ian, expecting to sense one vampire. Instead, his senses told him there were three vampires up ahead. What the hell was he walking into? He let out a stream of expletives in Québécois, his body trembling in fury. Taking on one Killer on his own had been a fool’s errand. Taking on three was just plain suicide. Eli was right—he was in over his head. He cursed some more, but it didn’t relieve his sense of impotent fury. He’d thrown everything that was good in his life away so he could have his revenge, and, damn it, he would have satisfaction!

But not tonight. No, tonight it was time for the strategic retreat. He’d accomplished what he’d come for, confirmed that vampires lived here. Now, it was wisest to make himself scarce before one of those three vampires sensed him. He took a couple of reluctant steps backward.

He was about to turn and make his escape when a pair of hands clamped down on the tops of his shoulders, fingers digging in deep. He wanted to whirl around and face whoever was behind him, but his limbs wouldn’t obey him. He couldn’t even turn his head.

Sweat beaded his brow despite the chilly winter air. It had to be glamour that held him motionless, and yet his senses insisted there was no vampire behind him.

A warm, moist puff of air tickled the side of his neck, and Jules felt the warmth of a body standing way too close for comfort.

“I’ve learned a few things since last we met, Jules,” a voice whispered practically in his ear.

His stomach clenched tight, his heart pounded, and for a moment Jules thought he was actually in danger of passing out, for he recognized that voice!

“You see,” Ian continued, his lips so close to Jules’s ear that he could almost feel them moving against his skin, “a master vampire can learn to mask his psychic footprint from his fledglings. I’ll bet you didn’t know that, did you, old friend?”

Blood pounded in his temples, but though he wanted to utter some kind of nonchalant reply, his tongue seemed glued to the roof of his mouth. Worst of all, that wasn’t a result of the glamour. Ian’s presence sapped every ounce of his strength and courage and he trembled deep inside. He loathed the sound of his maker’s voice, loathed the touch of his hands, loathed the invasion of his personal space.

“Let’s have a chat, shall we?” Ian said, his hands sliding away. Unfortunately, he then threw an arm around Jules’s shoulders, and there was nothing Jules could do to shrug it off or twist away.

Ian steered them toward one of the dark alleys Jules had spotted, his glamour forcing Jules to move with him. Why oh why hadn’t he listened to Eli? He’d known what a fool he was being, and he’d come anyway. Walked right into Ian’s goddamn trap.

With a monumental effort of will, Jules forced words from his throat. “How could you possibly find me so quickly?” He really hadn’t believed Ian would be so single-mindedly seeking him out, even though this was a trap.

“Like I said, I’ve learned some things in the last eight decades.” They’d reached the mouth of the alley now, and Ian continued on into the darkness, drawing Jules with him. “It’s amazing how much power a master has over his fledgling. As I’ve learned the hard way, many times.” The bitterness in his voice was almost comical to Jules’s ears. After what Ian had done to him, he deserved the worst that could happen! He hoped Ian’s maker tormented him daily.

“I can feel your presence without even trying. Hell, I pretty much own you. I would have come for you last night, but I was … detained.” Did Jules imagine it, or did Ian just shudder?

Ian finally removed his arm from around Jules’s shoulders, then gave him a hard shove so that his back was up against the brick wall of the alley. Ian’s glamour still held him immobilized, and he quailed inside. The sensation of helplessness nearly unmanned him, and he felt a sudden stirring of remorse for the times he’d used his own glamour to overcome and taunt Gray James. But then, it was no doubt his history with Ian that made the glamour such a violation.

“So,” Ian said, crossing his arms over his chest, “are you really alone? Tell me even you aren’t that stupid.”

Jules supposed he should tell Ian there was a troop of Guardians on their way to him as they spoke, but there didn’t seem to be much point in lying. Ian could obviously tell he was alone, seeing as the only other vampires in the vicinity were in Ian’s house. He decided to say nothing at all.

“Imbecile!” Ian said. He struck Jules across the face with the back of his hand, but the blow was an ineffectual one, barely hard enough to hurt. Ian never had been much good with his fists. When they’d been friends in college, Jules had more than once had to extract him from fights he couldn’t win. Fights Ian had started because he knew Jules would play the role of big brother and rescue him. Now, Jules wished he could go back in time and help Ian’s opponents beat the shit out of him.

“I’d hoped you’d give me at least a little challenge,” Ian complained. “Eighty years of waiting, and all the fun will be over in one short night.”

That Ian would want revenge on him had never occurred to Jules. Ian had already glutted himself on revenge for what he perceived as Jules’s sins—being stronger, being richer, being liked.

“I’m very sorry to disappoint you,” Jules said, mustering his sarcasm. “It just breaks my heart.”

Ian smiled and clucked his tongue. “Oh, you’re not sorry now, I know. But I’m going to make you sorry. Very, very sorry.”

So, his would not be a quick death. Jules was hardly surprised. As a vampire, Ian had shrugged off the constraints of polite society. His transformation had unleashed his sadism, a revolting appetite that Jules had been too naive to notice lurking below Ian’s formerly urbane manner.

Ian crowded into Jules’s space, putting his face within inches of Jules’s nose. His breath reeked of blood from a recent kill. “Say you’re sorry, my friend. Say it like you mean it and perhaps I’ll have a change of heart and kill you quickly.”

Jules couldn’t help the shiver of fear and revulsion that tore through his body as he read the intent in his maker’s eyes. The false apology would buy him nothing but humiliation. Better to suffer in silence.

For the first time ever, Jules cursed his immortality, which would allow Ian to commit terrible atrocities without killing him. But he should have known just what kind of atrocity Ian had in mind.

“I think I’m going to have a little fun with you before I start hurting you,” Ian said, his eyes glowing with decidedly unwholesome pleasure. “What do you think, old friend? Once more, for old time’s sake.”

The blood drained from Jules’s face as his heart clenched painfully in his chest. Sweat bathed his body and he fought futilely against Ian’s control. He was about to relive the nightmare he’d been fleeing for eighty years. Ian smiled in sadistic pleasure, savoring the fear and revulsion Jules couldn’t hide.

With dread pooling in his gut, Jules felt his maker’s glamour take a more intimate control of his body. He swallowed hard on a dry throat, fighting with all the will he could summon. But Ian’s glamour was far too strong, and there was no resisting it. Ian’s lips twisted into a cruel smile as Jules’s cock began to rise no matter how hard he fought.

He closed his eyes, his mind yammering at him. It’s just glamour! he reminded himself, fighting the panic. Even if he really did have a thing for men, he certainly wouldn’t be aroused by Ian! His conscious mind knew this—though when Ian had first done this to him, Jules had been mortal, and didn’t even know what glamour was. He’d found himself doing things with Ian he’d never imagined doing with a man, and Ian’s glamour had made it seem like it was all Jules’s idea. No amount of logic could overcome the memory of how his body had betrayed him under Ian’s influence.

“My maker and her goddamn son have taught me a thing or two about degradation and humiliation in the years I’ve had to live under her thumb,” Ian said, planting a hand in the center of Jules’s chest. “I’m going to teach every one of them to you before you die.”

“I don’t think so.”

Jules’s eyes popped open and Ian gasped in surprise. Jules had to blink a time or two to clear his vision, assure himself that his eyes weren’t lying to him. But no, that really was Hannah, standing there in the alley right behind Ian, her gun less than an inch from the back of his head.

“You move, I shoot,” she said. “And I know it’ll take a second or two at least for your glamour to get to me without eye contact. I feel any hint you’re trying it, and I’ll shoot.”

Hannah now had Ian’s full concentration, allowing Jules to move his limbs. And, thank God, he instantly lost the erection Ian had forced on him.

“Shoot him, Hannah,” he said. “He’s at least as evil as the Banger, maybe even worse.”

He glanced over Ian’s shoulder at Hannah’s face and saw how pale her cheeks were. She’d shot the Banger in the heat of battle. Did she really have what it takes to shoot a man in the back of his head in cold blood? Jules fervently hoped so.

“I’m sure we can reach some sort of agreement,” Ian said, holding his hands up in a gesture of surrender.

“If you let him go, we’ll lose our one and only edge,” Jules urged. “He’ll kill us both.” A quick mental survey of the area showed him the alarming fact that another vampire was fast approaching. “Hurry, Hannah, someone else is coming.”

Hannah licked her lips, her eyes wide and terrified looking. Her hands shook with her conflict and Jules willed her to shoot before it was too late.

Then, it was too late, for the other vampire had rounded the corner and was sprinting down the alley toward them.

***

Hannah hated her own squeamishness. She stood in that alley holding the gun to a Killer head and couldn’t get herself to pull the damn trigger. He was a murderer many times over, and he’d just threatened to torture Jules. She had to shoot him. Her finger twitched on the trigger and yet still she didn’t fire. Buffy, she was not.

“Damn it, Hannah!” Jules shouted, “shoot him now”

“No!” another voice yelled, this one from behind her. “Don’t shoot.”

The voice was vaguely familiar, but Hannah didn’t dare turn to see who it was. She couldn’t afford to be distracted, or Squires would turn the tables on her.

“Drake?” Jules said, sounding confused. “What are you doing here?”

“Saving you from yourself.”

Yes, Hannah recognized the voice of the Killer who worked with the Guardians. The guy creeped her out big time, but she tentatively numbered him among the good guys.

“Please don’t shoot him, Hannah,” Drake said. It sounded like he was about five feet behind her now.

She blinked away a bead of sweat that trickled down her forehead. And she kept her gun right where it was.

Jules snarled at Drake. “Keep out of this! Hannah, shoot. Now!”

“Don’t shoot,” Drake countered.

Jules drew breath to bark another command, but Hannah cut him off. “Okay, guys, you can stop now. I’m not doing anything just because one of you says so. I know why Jules wants me to shoot. Why don’t you want me to, Drake?”

“If you shoot him, we’re all dead. He’s far from the only vampire in Baltimore, and they’ll avenge him if you kill him.”

Jules let loose a stream of French. She didn’t understand a word, but she sure as hell got the gist of it. “Shut up, Jules. Let him finish. So, what’s to stop him from killing us if I don’t have my gun to his head?”

“Me, for one,” Drake said. Jules started up again and Drake raised his voice to be heard over the cursing. “But I’ll try for something more concrete. Hold tight for a minute.”

She heard little beeping noises she recognized as cell phone buttons being pressed. She let out a slow breath to calm the pounding of her heart, wishing she could spare a hand to wipe the sweat from her brow. Drake’s presence calmed some of the anxiety, but she wasn’t what you would call at ease. Her fingers started to cramp from holding the gun so tightly, and she forced herself to loosen her grip.

“I need to speak to Camille,” Drake said into his phone. “It’s an emergency.” There was a brief pause, then Drake made an irritated-sounding grunt. “Put your mother on, Gabriel.” Another pause. “Oh, all right. Tell her that if she wants Ian alive, she’d better call him off right this moment. My friend has a gun to his head and every reason to fear for her safety if she lowers it. Eventually she’s going to get tired of waiting and shoot.”

Another beep from the phone as Drake hung it up. Seconds later, Squires made a choking sound, and despite Hannah’s order for him not to move, he staggered sideways toward the mouth of the alley. She kept her gun trained on him, but he barely seemed aware of her. He’d put both hands to his throat, and his eyes bulged. Hannah shivered as she realized he was choking himself. What the hell was going on?

Drake’s hand landed on her arm. “Put the gun down and let’s get out of here.”

Jules stepped away from the wall, eyes glowing with purpose as he strode toward Ian.