Lucas

Page 33

If she’d been willing to throw away her son that day, to throw away Lucas, they would have taken her back. He understood that now, too. Brighid had been their only child, and old Donal Donlon had been desperate to secure an heir for his estate, someone in a direct line to himself. His wife, Brighid’s mother, had been too old to bear another child, and the church wouldn’t let him set her aside. So he’d been willing to take Brighid back, to marry her off to someone acceptable to his needs, if not to Brighid’s, in hopes of securing a legitimate heir.
But Lucas’s mother had loved him, despite the circumstances of his conception. He hadn’t understood what rape meant when he was six, but he did later. And he’d marveled that his mother had loved him despite it, loved him so fiercely that he’d never doubted it, not for one moment.
But love didn’t put food on the table, didn’t pay the rent on their pitiful room. So she sold the only thing she had left. Herself. It shamed him still that she’d been forced to such dire straits because of him. It was why he rarely thought about those times. Why he wasn’t going to think about them anymore this evening either.
He sat up and drew a deep breath into his lungs. And he thought of Kathryn. He snagged his cell phone from the side table and punched in her number. It went to voice mail, so he disconnected and dialed the motel instead.
“Motel,” a man’s voice said, apparently feeling no obligation to announce which motel, since there was only the one in town.
“Hunter, room eighteen,” Lucas requested.
“Nope. She checked out this morning.”
Lucas froze. “She what?” he asked in a voice so cold the poor night manager stuttered his reply.
“Sh—she checked out, sir. First thing this morning.”
Lucas disconnected and threw the phone down before he crushed it. She’d run. He’d known there was something off about her emotions when she’d left this morning, and now he understood. It wasn’t that she felt nothing for him, because he knew she did. She’d wanted him just as much as he’d wanted her last night, and even this morning she’d clearly wanted to stay. So why leave town so abruptly?
He snapped his fingers as it hit him. Kathryn was a control freak. Why the hell else had she become an FBI agent, one of those uptight clones of rigidity in their identical suits and ties? It had been written all over her that first night she’d met him, in her buttoned up blouse and neat-as-a-pin pants suit. Always in control. But there was no such thing when it came to feelings, especially not when the sparks were flying like they had between them last night. Kathryn hadn’t fled because she didn’t want him, but because she did. And it terrified her. Finally something she couldn’t control, so she’d fled the scene rather than face him. He grabbed the cell phone again, intending to call her on her obvious cowardice, but changed his mind. He didn’t need to go begging after a woman’s attention. They usually came begging to him. This one hadn’t, and it pissed him off. But there were other ways to corner his personal FBI agent, and he intended—
His phone rang. “Yeah, Nick,” he answered.
“Sire, we have a target to retaliate against Klemens.”
Lucas growled deep in his chest. “Fuckin’ A. Where is it?”
“Rockford. A hundred miles from Chicago, give or take.”
“We’ll have to fly. Have the jet prepped, and give Minneapolis a call. Klemens will know the minute I cross the border, so I want a helicopter waiting for us on the ground in Chicago. We’ll chopper from there to Rockford. And tell Thad he’s invited to the party. He can bring any of his survivors who can fight. No civilians. Warriors only. This isn’t going to be pretty.”
“Yes, my lord, when—”
“Have the SUVs out front in ten minutes. Payback’s a bitch, my friend.”
Chapter Eleven
Thad was waiting for them when they landed at Chicago’s ExecutiveAirport, located in a suburb just north of the city. Chicago was Klemens’s home city in every sense of the word. He’d been born there as a human and now ruled from there as a vampire. He’d know by now that Lucas had crossed into his territory, though he wouldn’t know precisely where just yet. And by the time he figured it out, Lucas would be on the move. Lucas didn’t envy the vampires closest to Klemens tonight. They’d be bearing the brunt of the vampire lord’s anger, and rumor had it that Klemens didn’t spare anyone when he was displeased.
“I brought only two from the enclave, my lord,” Thad was saying. “More wanted to come, but you said fighters only, so—”
“Absolutely. This is going to be bloody, Thad. I know you can handle it, but what about the others?”
“Both skilled fighters, my lord, and well-motivated.”
“I trust your judgment. Zelma,” he said, turning to greet the head of his Minneapolis nest as she joined them. “Everything set?”
Zelma was dressed in the same black combat clothing as the men. At no more than five and half feet tall, she was dwarfed by Lucas and the other warriors, but she was all muscle and skill. Female or not, Lucas had seen her fight and had no qualms about including her in the night’s festivities.
“The transport helicopter is waiting, my lord,” she replied. “With Thad’s three and your ten, we’ll be twenty strong once we get there.”
They started across the tarmac at a fast walk, heading for the waiting helicopter. “You have recon on the site?” Lucas asked.
“I sent two scouts ahead as soon as Nick called. They drove, taking two separate SUVs, just in case we needed ground transportation once we got there.”
“Good thinking. What do you know about the place?”
“It’s an older house, two-story brick, on nine acres, which is a point in our favor. It’s hell doing battle in a fucking suburb. This place has lots of trees, lots of cover. There’s only one way in if you approach by car. It crosses over a small creek with a bridge. One ancient outbuilding, which my guys don’t think is being used at all. Last report I had, one of them was trying to get closer to be certain, and maybe get a head count from inside the house.”
“I don’t want Klemens’s people warned, Zelma. If he can’t do it quietly, tell him to back off.”
“I told him the same, my lord. They both know the ground rules.” Her phone rang, and she checked the screen. “The scouts,” she told Lucas, then answered the call. “Talk to me.”
While Zelma got the scouting report, Lucas and the others were climbing aboard the helicopter, getting situated among the vampires already inside. Lucas and Nick settled into two of the most forward seats. The others shuffled deeper into the passenger bay. It said something, Lucas thought to himself, that he felt it necessary to own three of these heavy transport helicopters. His border squabbles with Klemens had been going on for as long as he could remember, almost from the first day Klemens had seized the MidwesternTerritory for himself. Klemens had never been satisfied with the limits of his holdings, even though the boundaries had been drawn and well-established long before he came to power. Lucas had been ruling the PlainsTerritory for nearly a hundred years before Klemens showed up next door. And the bastard had been a thorn in his side ever since.
He looked over as Zelma stepped up into the helicopter. Nick stood, letting her take the seat between them, so they could both hear her report. Before he sat again, he leaned into the pilot’s compartment and gave the order to take off.
The noise from the copter ratcheted up quickly. Lucas grabbed the headset hanging over his seat and put it on, as Zelma and Nick did the same. Zelma glanced at Lucas, and seeing his nod, produced an iPad and pulled up not just a picture of the house but a map of the grounds, as well.
“Klemens only purchased this place ten years ago. The old real estate listing is still there, and my computer guy pulled up the plat from the tax records. The scouts have it, too, and say it’s pretty accurate. Doesn’t show the surrounding landscape, of course, but I’m more interested in the structures.”
Lucas nodded. “What about numbers?”
“The scout who took a look is no master vampire, so it’s a best guess. He says more than ten, fewer than twenty. All on the ground floor and, he assumes, the basement.”
“The basement is almost certain,” Nick commented.
“Agreed,” Zelma said. “And we have to assume the number of fighters is on the high end of his estimate. If it’s lower, fine. If not, we’re prepared.”
“I’m not worried about numbers,” Lucas reminded them impatiently. “I’ll know who’s in that house as soon as I’m on-scene.”
Zelma dipped her head, clearly embarrassed. “Apologies, my lord.”
Lucas nodded his understanding. He could feel battle lust beginning to grow in the vampires filling the big helicopter, the hunger for blood and violence. Zelma was a strong vampire and a good leader, but she wasn’t immune to it, either. Even Nick’s eyes were beginning to glow around the edges as his power rose in response to the thickening air of violence, and Nick had seen more battles at Lucas’s side than anyone else here.
Lucas took the iPad from Zelma and studied the target. There was no cover directly around the house. They’d be approaching in the open and uphill, but if Klemens’s people weren’t expecting them, that shouldn’t be a problem. The question was whether Klemens had sent out an alert to all of his vampires when he realized Lucas had crossed his border.
“Can you call your scouts without giving away their position?” he asked Zelma.
“Yes, my lord.”
“Do it. Ask if they’ve seen any indication that Klemens’s people have been warned, any sudden burst of guard activity.”
“Klemens knows you’re here,” she guessed accurately.
“Of course. But did he think to warn this particular barracks?”
Zelma’s thumbs flew as she opted to contact her scouts via text. It was growing far too noisy in the helicopter for anything but a shouted conversation. Her grin grew as she read the response and when she looked up, her eyes were glowing red with eagerness.