Shadows of Fire (11 page)

Hope turned, sprinting through
the barn, praying she wouldn’t be too late. She had no idea what Glenn knew or
how he could help Alex, but Hope damn well understood there was nothing
she
could do to save her friend. Her fingers brushed the door handle of her Bug at
the same moment a shadow materialized from the darkness, slamming her head
against the roof of the car. A hand covered her mouth, trapping her cry for
help.

“I didn’t want to do this, but
you’ve seen too much.”

The whispered words barely cut
though the haze of pain as her head was wrenched back by her hair and agony
radiated from her throat. Heat burned over every nerve. The metallic odor of
blood filled the air and the sickly sound of slurping echoed in her ears. Hope’s
world became a dizzying cacophony of disjointed thoughts and sensations that
tripped over one another, tumbling her into a sleepy confusion.

Her
body became a weightless entity. Limbs and vocal cords unable to function, she
wasn’t sure if the motion she felt was real or imagined.
It really didn’t
matter.
Whatever her attacker was doing to her—she wasn’t going to survive.

Chapter Five

Glenn
pulled the truck around the dirt drive and parked in back of his farm house.
Though he’d driven well over the speed limit from the bus station straight
home, darkness had beaten him here. Night and its shadowed secrets now reigned
over the farm. A full moon hung eerily over the trees, its blood red color a
harbinger of death. Glenn refused to acknowledge the cold weight of fear
pressing in his gut.

He
stared at the battered leather briefcase sitting on the passenger seat. Though
the search had taken him to three different bus stations, this discovery seemed
almost too easy and he wondered now if he’d been set up. Pulling the key from
his pocket, Glenn examined the thin slip of metal hanging from a pink numbered
fob. A bus locker had held all his secrets. Secrets that had led to a man’s
murder.

No
doubt, Dr. Paul Morgan, dear friend of Alexandra Flanagan, had given his life
protecting research that had taken Glenn nearly an hour to sort through. The
chemical formulas and scientific theory made no sense to him, but there was no
denying Alexandra Flanagan was up to her dimpled little chin in this deadly
crap. He wondered if she also knew about the fires the professor had
documented. Glenn hoped like hell she’d had nothing to do with the evidence
that had been buried in ashes. It was one of the things that worried him the
most.

As
he’d read through each piece of evidence against her, the fog surrounding her
late night excuses and mysterious illness had lifted, and he saw with absolute
clarity who’d she’d become. It sickened him to think Alex had done it all under
his nose and without his knowledge.

He
didn’t understand the more recent fires in South Kenton and suspected they centered
on someone’s knowledge—and hatred—of the professor’s dirty experiments. The
information contained in that small leather satchel would, without a doubt,
blow the RISEN investigation wide open, which was exactly why the tribunal couldn’t
get their hands on it until he’d purged Alexandra’s involvement from the pages.

On
the one hand, Glenn wanted to protect the impish woman who held his fatherly
heart captive. But what Alex had done was unethical even by vampire standards.
If only she’d told him, perhaps he could’ve helped before it had gone this far.
She hadn’t. On the other hand, he wanted to help Reese and his RISEN operatives
avenge the needless executions of the vamps and, more recently, the innocent
humans. And he wanted to do both without Reese or Alex falling off the short
end of the pier into a quagmire of shit.

He
fell back against the seat. The paradox sucked beyond belief.

Hanging
the key on the shifter, Glenn grabbed his cell phone. He’d call Tony to help
Alex with the Friday night crowd, feed the animals, then read through the
research and identify the most damning evidence. After the tavern closed, he’d
bring the pig blood to the wine cellar and confront Alex. If he was satisfied
with the explanation of her actions, they would sort through the papers
together and cull out the details implicating her. Tomorrow, they’d deliver the
briefcase and satisfy RISEN with a sanitized version of the facts.

He
hadn’t come up with any other solution.

Of
course, Glenn didn’t even want to consider the train wreck scenario if
Alexandra had no explanation for the most recent deaths. At the moment, blind
with worry, he couldn’t even see down that track.

Glenn
slid the briefcase under the seat, punched the tavern’s number into his cell
and got out of the truck, heading down the path to the barn just as the
answering machine picked up. A person also answered and Glenn listened to
Alex’s melodious voice give a sales pitch about O’Malley’s hours of operation
before he could speak. When it stopped, he heard the raucous sound of
firefighters and the Friday night pool tournament.

“Hey,
Alex, it’s Glenn.”

“She’s
not here. This is Tony.”

Tony
only came in when things at the bar were really busy. He felt guilty telling them
he wasn’t coming in. “Busy night?”

“You
could say that.” Frustration colored his words. “Where are you?”

“Let
me speak to Alex, I’ll explain to her.”

“I
just told you. She’s not here. Katie said she headed out to your barn about a
half hour after she got here. Said she seemed worried. Everything all right
with you?”

“Yeah,
it’s good.” That would explain why the lights were on in the barn. “I must’ve
just missed her.”

 A
heavy sigh filled Glenn’s ear. “Listen, I hate to ask, but we could really use
another bartender and waitress. It’s a regular night at the fire station around
here. When you coming in?”

Glenn
wasn’t sure when O’Malley’s had become the hangout for the local boys on their
off hours, but he rather enjoyed their humor and their rowdy manner. Firefighters
were definitely a breed all their own.

“I’m
not coming in tonight either.” Worry quickened his steps. It wasn’t like Alex
to call out on a Friday night. Something was up. Glenn strode faster along the
path to the barn. He hoped to hell she’d simply come to feed the animals. Then
he could talk to her without anyone else around. Maybe she’d actually tell him
the truth. “You should be all set. Let Bob handle the kitchen and pull Chris to
help at the bar. Katie can handle the crowd.”

“Chris
left on Alex’s heels.”

“Where
the hell did he go?”

“Said
he was sick. Seriously, you need some help?”

Chris
had been trying to persuade Glenn to turn him. The kid was stupid and had
fantasies that didn’t even touch reality. He couldn’t imagine Chris convincing
Alex to involve him in this mess. But what the hell did he know? He’d missed
all of the signs of Alex’s deceit. “No, I’m good. Call in Mary and Ben. Their
numbers are taped on the fridge.” Glenn had been weaning both vamps onto the
blood wine and training them to tend bar. He figured they owed him.

“Listen,
we can shut the tavern down for the night,” Tony said.

The
wind shifted. Even the pungent smell of pigs couldn’t mask the copper odor of
death. “There’s nothing going on I can’t handle. Hang tight and keep things
going there.” He didn’t mean to lose his temper, but both his impatience and
the vampire rose within him. “And damn it all, if you hear from Alex or Chris,
tell them to call me.” Glenn pulled the phone from his ear and pushed the off
button.

He
entered the barn. “Alex, you here?” Only his horse’s whinny answered his call.
The stench of death hadn’t come from here. Glenn’s fangs pulsed as he went
around the side of the barn and scanned the darkness. Nothing except creatures
of the field scurried in his vision. Glenn focused on the breath of night
surrounding him, hearing only the sound of the brisk September wind rustling the
through the leaves. Moving with the stealth of a shadow, he followed the scent
of blood into the woods behind the barn. His fangs lengthened and even after
all the years of living off the wine, Glenn felt the beast clamoring to share
the carnage. The goats bleated out calls of hunger from the barn, but he
ignored their summons. Stalking deeper into the forest, he caught the unmistakable
essence of vampire. Someone was feeding on his property.

“I
know you’re here. Show yourself,” he called into the night. “If you’ve come for
sanctuary, I freely offer it.” This wouldn’t be the first time a vamp had
sought refuge, bringing their last victim to him as a sacrifice. The nearly
imperceptible whoosh and swell of movement vibrated the air and Glenn wanted to
follow it. But a low keening of pain garnered his full attention and forced him
down the hill. A body lay curled in on itself, the heart barely pumping blood
to its organs. Glenn’s own heart nearly stopped when he rolled the body over,
only to see Hope’s vacant expression staring up at him. Puncture wounds at her
slender throat were raw and swollen. Fresh blood covered her neck and chest.

Who
the hell would have done such a thing?

Despite
his anger, Glenn forced his fangs to retract. Cradling Hope against his chest,
he rushed back to the barn, not sure whether she had enough life within her to
survive.

Large
lights, hanging from the wide-beamed ceiling, washed the wide hall and numerous
stalls in yellow light. The sweet grass and animal odors replaced the tempting
aroma of fresh blood. Glenn laid her gently on the hay in an empty birthing
stall and ran to the cooler in the back office. Grabbing a bottle of blood
wine, a couple packets of pig blood he kept on hand for these types of
situations, a syringe and bandages from the medicine cabinet, Glenn prayed it
wasn’t too late. Perhaps with Josh’s help, Hope wouldn’t see immortality as the
curse of saving her life.

When
he returned to the stall, Hope’s skin had become translucent. Blue veins marked
roadmaps of death on her face. There wasn’t time for the syringe. Glenn dropped
the packets of blood and bit into his wrist, gashing the vein. He held it over Hope’s
face, letting the thick fluid drip on her mouth, painting her lips a syrupy
scarlet.

“Drink,”
Glenn implored Hope. “Help me save you, damn it. Drink.”

Prying
her lips open, he let the life-giving blood fill her mouth. Hope’s tongue moved
and she began to swallow. Glenn threaded his fingers into the tangled mat of her
blonde tresses, lifting her tenderly to his wrist. He wondered again if Hope
would forgive him for all the complications that came with the cure.

Obviously,
Alex never had.

Hope’s
instinct overpowered the repugnance of her actions and she finally latched on,
drinking hungrily from his wrist. Though there was no guarantee he would save
her, Glenn relaxed in the knowledge that Hope had taken the first step in
survival.

Sadness
tripped over guilt. Glenn hadn’t been the one to rip open Hope’s throat and
carry her to death’s door, he understood his generosity condemned another young
person to a never-ending night. Even though genetic evolution in the vampire
DNA over the centuries had made sunlight bearable, it wasn’t like the kid would
ever again feel its rays warm upon her face. Glenn would teach Josh how to wean
her directly onto the blood wine and at least make her survival humane.

Maybe
they’d even be happy sharing the centuries together. He understood what a
lonely and long existence it could be. The thought of what he was doing pinched
his heart. This decision should have been hers. Glenn had lost count how many
humans he’d pulled into his world. But letting them die seemed a worse fate.

“There.
Lie back and sleep.” He eased his wrist away from her hungry lips. Rest and
intravenous pig blood would complete the rescue. Glenn licked the wound, his
own skin closing and repairing itself as if the flesh had never been ripped
open.

“It’s
all right now,” he murmured to Hope, running a hand over her hair. But it
wasn’t and Glenn knew it. There was still so much explaining and teaching ahead.
The only blessing is that the rest of the responsibility no longer rested with
him. But even that worried Glenn. He didn’t know how serious Josh was with
Hope. The concerns weighed heavy on his shoulders, making the task of pulling
together the rest of the supplies difficult. When would it all end? How much
more did he have to give to a new generation of vampires?

Focusing
on his melancholy and the effort of threading the syringe into Hope’s frail
arm, Glenn didn’t feel the push of air or smell the stench of vampire until the
beast was on his back. Sharp nails and fangs dug deep into his flesh. He stood and
turned, trying to dislodge his opponent, but the vamp’s legs had clamped around
his waist. Glenn reached up, tangling his fingers in its hair, intent on
flipping his adversary to the floor. But hatred, rage, jealousy or some
combination of the three made the vampire stronger. With a growl that echoed
through the barn, the beast swung a wooden stake, coming down hard in front of
Glenn’s disbelieving eyes.

Like
lava pouring from a volcano, pain seared through Glenn. It erupted from his
chest, scorched down his stomach and arms, oozed slow paths of torture along
his thighs and finally buckled his knees. There weren’t many things that could
take down a vampire, but the wood protruding from Glenn’s chest definitely did
the job.