Six, p.36
Six, page 36
“You know that bat is aluminum,” Lorcan noted.
“It still hurts if I hit you with it, bloodsucker,” the werewolf replied.
“What took you guys so long?” Kayleigh hissed as she slid out of a squished Cadillac. “The RV is here, and he made a call. From what I could make out, his buddies will be here any minute.”
Bernard’s entire face transformed as he took in the lanky, grease and dust-covered body of Kayleigh O’Hara. She wiped a smudge off her cheek as she hopped to the ground, revealing her secondary layer of adorable freckles. She shoved Bernard to the side to get to Lorcan and Kyle. Bernard clutched his chest and sighed with delight.
“Great, you brought the deadweight,” Kayleigh muttered as she stared right through her brother. “The blond old dude has Nads and Toy tied up and knocked out next to the Winnebago. There is another guy bleeding out pretty bad. He’s unconscious but not bound. The old guy knocked him senseless and just left him in the dirt.”
Paige bared her teeth and leaped for the pile. Only the combined efforts of Sammy and Wesley could hold her back. Lorcan rested his hand on Paige’s shoulder and said, “I know that you want to help him, but if we don’t put a stop to the Lung, they will just keep coming after all of you.”
“I hope they show up soon then,” Kayleigh muttered. She turned to the still starry-eyed Bernard. “You, fur-face, can you climb? I need another spotter.”
“I’ll do whatever you need,” Bernard sighed as she started climbing the cars.
“That’s kinda cute,” Wesley said as the two disappeared.
“Yeah, cute and futile,” Kyle muttered. “You two, why don’t you help me sneak around back so I can get to Morgan?”
Before he slipped away, Kyle passed a syringe and a pair of pens into Paige’s hand. “Syringe equals vampire death, white pen is a tranquilizer, and dark pen is full-moon fever, OK?” he said.
“Gotcha.”
They all perked up their ears as the sound of an engine approached from the north. Lorcan and Paige slipped through a few discarded chassis and found a perfect perch downwind and behind an old chest freezer. A very shiny black limousine rolled through the front gate that Irvine had so kindly crashed through before.
The doors swung open to allow three large gentlemen with automatic guns and bulletproof vests to step into view. All of them nodded in deference to the fourth member of their entourage—all four feet ten inches of lollipop-sucking, high-top-wearing, schoolgirl-impersonating Ping-Pong Lung.
“You interrupted my dinner,” Ping said between licks of her suspiciously red sucker. “You’re lucky you didn’t call an hour earlier.”
“No one interrupts Miss Lung at Cirque du Soleil,” one of the thugs muttered threateningly.
“Guns,” Paige whispered in horror. “What do we do about guns?”
Lorcan, on the other hand, seemed dreadfully calm as he took note of the driver and tinted windows. He set his shotgun on the ground and dutifully checked the number of darts in his dinky little nonlethal weapon.
“Are you crazy?” Paige mouthed.
Lorcan nodded before vaulting himself over the freezer and firing. Paige heard three little plinks and then an equal number of meaty thuds. A moment later, the hollow remains of an Impala came crashing down onto the trunk of the limo.
“Oh, I hope you had insurance,” Lorcan quipped as he turned to face Ping.
Paige looked up to see a triumphant Bernard and Kayleigh already grappling another junker to hurl. Kyle and the boys made a move as well, leaving only Paige to make a beeline for the stunned older werewolf.
Ping smiled and gave the other vampire a little bow. “How cute!” she cried as she yanked a knife out of her Hello Kitty handbag. “It’s the Lord Poo-Face himself come to scare wittle old me—”
Paige couldn’t hear the rest of the banter as she drove her shoulder right into Irvine’s sternum. He stumbled back but not nearly far enough. Paige reeled as his right hook landed squarely on her jaw.
“Didn’t we already do this, bitch?” Irvine asked as he slugged her again.
She collapsed to the ground next to the other girls, whimpering and simpering as the blood rushed to her swelling eye socket. She held the black injector pen in her trembling tiny hands.
“Oh, was that for me?” Irvine laughed as she brandished her pathetic weapon. “Were you going to knock me out, little missy?” he asked before getting close enough to kick her in the stomach.
“No, she is,” Paige wheezed before slamming the pen into Nadia’s thigh. She then slammed whatever was left of the adrenaline boost into Toy’s side before taking another boot to the back. This hit landed with enough force to crack bone.
Irvine’s triumph was short-lived as a pair of wide violet eyes snapped open. The purple-haired werewolf snapped her bonds and roared. Paige smiled as Nadia slammed her fist into Irvine’s smug face. A second later Toy roared and broke free as well. Irvine was forced to retreat as two furious females proceeded to beat him within an inch of his life.
Kyle rushed to Paige’s side as she remained firmly planted in the dirt. “Help Morgan. I’ll be all right—” she growled as she started crawling toward the limousine. Her spine complained terribly as she grabbed the tire and began the frightfully slow climb to her feet. She braced herself with one hand and held onto the syringe Kyle had given her with the other.
The werewolves watched, dumbstruck, as two individuals moved faster than creatures had the right to move. The smaller form of Ping jumped, flipped, and danced about, continuously attacking Lorcan, who seemed to melt in and out of shadows—slower but always able to parry her attacks. The more he blocked, however, the more angry bruises and slashes appeared along his arms.
Finally, Ping had enough of dancing and took a running leap over the top of the limo. Paige couldn’t move fast enough to avoid being grabbed by the vampire. Lorcan held frightfully still as Ping pressed a knife against Paige’s throat.
“Oh, I see how it is,” Ping cooed sweetly in Paige’s ear. “He wouldn’t want to risk your pretty little neck, would he? I can see the fear in your eyes, Lorcan Pendragon. I’m gonna cut your—”
Ping’s words trailed away as she looked down to see a syringe plunged into her leg. The vampire let Paige go and yanked out the offending plastic. “Diu,” the vampire spat as her eyes turned from green to bloody red. She lunged at Paige, grabbing the werewolf’s tail. Paige howled as Ping was able to make one swift cut before dropping to her knees. The furry limb dropped to the ground.
Lorcan wrapped his arm protectively around Paige’s shoulders. The other vampire looked up at Lorcan and begged. “You, you’re a Pendragon,” she pleaded. “Your family values life. I beg you—”
Nadia and Toy tossed the unconscious body of Irvine at Lorcan’s feet. Lorcan didn’t miss a beat as he pulled out the regular pistol and fired two shots to the head. Paige remained frozen, mouth open as the blood began to flow beneath her feet.
“I’m not like the rest of the Pendragon,” Lorcan said flatly. “And you threaten my family.”
He shot her cleanly between the eyes. He then motioned to the stunned Sammy, who was holding a splintered chair leg in his white-knuckled hands. The werewolf stumbled toward the gruesome scene. Everyone but Paige looked away as Lorcan took the makeshift stake and plunged it through Ping’s ribs. At this point the driver of the limo shoved open his door and ran screaming for the cover of the scrap heap. Paige finally shut her eyes as she felt Lorcan draw a pistol again, and only opened them after she heard a whimper rather than a bang. The driver collapsed with a dart in his neck as Lorcan ordered, “Time to clean up.”
34
“Is he going to make it?” Paige asked softly. The interior of Billy’s Winnebago had been converted into a makeshift hospital, with wounded werewolves tucked in every corner. Morgan ended up on the prime real estate of the bed, while Kyle and Billy both tried their best to stitch him up and Paige watched helplessly from the couch across the cabin.
“He’s lost a lot of blood. I think we’re going to have to risk a run for the hospital—” Billy said.
“He’s not going to make it—” Kyle said as he took Morgan’s pulse.
“Give him my blood,” Paige offered.
“Paige, you’re AB+, and he’s fuck-if-I-know type,” Kyle snapped. “Leave this to us.”
Paige’s protests were silenced by Lorcan pressing a finger to her lips. The vampire remained ever watchful at her side. Paige grabbed his bruised and bloodied hand. “Is there anything that you can do?” she whispered.
Lorcan extended his blood red claws and punched a hole in his wrist. “He’s not going to be happy about this,” the vampire sighed.
“He can yell at us later.”
Much to Kyle’s and Billy’s mutual protests, the vampire absconded with Kyle’s tubing and needles. He made quick work of fashioning a makeshift IV and handed the other end to his great-times-nine grandson.
“You don’t even know if it will work. The chances of rejection—” Kyle muttered.
“Trust me on this one. I know it will work.”
True to Lorcan’s word, the young werewolf woke a few hours later. The vampire was forced to hide in the bathroom as the first rays of Nevada sunshine poured through the windows. Paige curled on the sofa, clutching her severed tail and praying under her breath.
“Why did I dream of Camelot?” Morgan asked softly.
Paige ignored the glare of her doctor and stumbled to Morgan’s side. He looked at her blackened eye and swollen jaw, and his eyes darkened. “Who did this to you?” he growled.
“It’s over now,” she said as she rested the unbroken side of her face against his.
Kyle eventually acquiesced to letting her lie down beside Morgan and even helped the two of them cuddle without causing further injury.
Once the two most injured were safely tucked in, Billy signaled for Sammy to start up the engine. “I think it’s time we head for home,” the werewolf said. After a few minutes of gentle swaying and road noise, Paige drifted off into a deep, peaceful, dreamless sleep.
35
“What did you mean when you told Ping that you weren’t like other Pendragons?” Paige asked as she once more sat at the bar at Mayweather’s Pub.
“I think you know that better than anyone, Miss Paige,” Lorcan said as he wiped down the counter. The smell of chicken and bacon filled the air as Tina and her waitresses handed plates around to the full tables of the bustling establishment. Her largest platters of food kept rotating out of a room marked “Private Party,” where Paige could just see Billy chugging a beer while Toy cheered him on and Nadia shook her head.
Lorcan passed the towel to the regular bartender before grabbing a bottle and two glasses. “Shall we go have a drink?” he asked.
They settled in the farthest booth from the others, a tiny little table tucked away in a corner. Lorcan set down the Irish whiskey between them, but didn’t pour. “Ice?” he asked. Paige shook her head.
“I suppose it’s all come down to this, hasn’t it?” the vampire asked. “I think that the others will work well together and it’s good to see that Irvine’s strays have found a home, but—”
“But,” Paige said, staring at the empty glasses. “There’s always a ‘but,’ isn’t there?”
“Is Morgan speaking to you yet? He doesn’t have much to say to me.”
“What do you expect? Vampires killed his whole family.”
“And a vampire saved his life,” Lorcan countered. “Paige, I know how you feel about him. I share your feelings—”
Paige raised a brow.
“What I mean is that the connections that you made while I was inside you, I now have, as real as if I experienced them myself. I won’t try and come between you. After all, what we had was the product of manipulation—”
“Not to mention you’re married,” she said flatly.
“Indeed.”
They sat together, staring at the glasses, until Lorcan finally extended his hand. Paige slowly reached out and rested her hand in his. A chill ran down her spine as he grasped her fingers.
“We will always be connected, Paige, but I am happy that you found someone. Someone that I hope will end up helping us both in the long run. Now, I know you have questions, questions that you want completely honest answers for, so I suppose we shouldn’t delay any longer.”
“Pour us a drink then.”
He splashed a bit of whiskey in both glasses. Paige puckered as she took her first sip. Lorcan diluted his with something viscous from a flask.
After he took his first drink, Paige asked, “Did you enjoy killing Irvine and Ping?”
“I enjoyed knowing that my family was safe because of their deaths.”
“That’s not the same thing.”
“Paige, I was a soldier when the Romans ruled most of the earth. I’ve fought in many battles, both ancient and modern, and probably killed more people than you’ve met in your entire life. I’m efficient at killing, because I just want it to be over with. There is no joy at all—only a sort of numb ache that never goes away.”
“I can’t forget her face,” Paige said. “I helped kill—”
“Time helps more than anything else. In time the necessity of what you did will outweigh the horror. The nightmares will fade, but the scars will remain. I do what I do so that my family doesn’t have to live with those scars. I’m sorry that I couldn’t protect you too.”
“What happened to my father? I haven’t gotten a call—”
“I gave your father to your great-grandfather. As far as he’s concerned, he never got to you, and I paid enough to some interested parties to keep him chasing aliens for the rest of his miserable little life. I hope you don’t mind, but I asked Mister DeMarco to implant the suggestion that you and your father are bitterly estranged. I don’t think he’ll ever come after you again, but he will be watched, closely.”
“He can really just forget everything?”
“People easily forget what doesn’t suit their long-term interests. I’ll make certain he can’t harm you, and as childish as your great-grandfather can be, he won’t let your father off the leash either.”
“So I guess that just leaves the rest of the angry Lung vampires—”
“In my world there is always a subplot going on. Ivan showed up, didn’t he? He brokered a deal for someone with the Lung. He never acts on his own, and he never gives up his sources. I have a feeling that we only stumbled onto one crazy trap. There will certainly be more in years to come.”
“And you think I’m just going to stay here with you, after everything you’ve done? Morgan won’t—”
“I won’t what?” Morgan said. He glared at Paige’s hand still resting on the vampire’s and asked, “Am I interrupting?”
“Not at all,” Lorcan said. “In fact, I’m fairly certain that Paige was about to ask the question that will determine once and for all if you’ll join my merry little pack.”
Morgan slid next to Paige and stole her hand back. He kept his bright blue eyes locked on Lorcan. “Tell me one good reason why I should help a vampire,” he growled.
“You mean other than saving both yours and Paige’s life?” Lorcan asked. “Paige, ask the right question, now, before we run out of whiskey.”
“Do you know who killed Morgan’s family?”
“I know who killed his mother and father, yes,” Lorcan replied.
“It wasn’t you,” Morgan muttered. “Just tell me who it was.”
“I will tell you exactly who killed your parents, Mr. Blaylock, but only if you swear to me on a blood oath that you will seek no retribution against him.”
“Why the hell would I do that, bloodsucker?” Morgan growled.
“Because your little sister is still very much alive, and if you want her to stay that way, you have to agree to my exact terms!”
Morgan stared silently as the vampire took another sip of his drink. Lorcan tipped his all but empty glass toward the blond werewolf. Paige piped up with, “Are you telling the truth, Lorcan?”
“Indeed I am, Miss Paige.”
“Lorcan can’t lie to me right now—just trust me,” she said. “Morgan—”
The other werewolf flicked out his claws. Lorcan tensed slightly until the werewolf used his index claw to prick his thumb. “How does this blood oath work?” Morgan growled.
“We share a little blood and make a promise. If the intentions are pure and the emotions strong enough, we’ll be bound by it. Legally, if I fail to keep my side of the bargain, I can be dragged into the noonday sun and burned until I am dead,” Lorcan said. “Paige is quite familiar with the process now.”
Morgan looked over at Paige briefly but stuck his bleeding hand on the table. Lorcan bit his own thumb and then pressed it against Morgan’s wound.
“I promise to seek no retribution against the vampire that killed my parents,” Morgan choked out.
“And I promise to tell you what happened to your sister, as well as keep her safe as much as I can,” Lorcan said.
Both of them shook their heads and looked dizzy for a moment before Morgan jerked away and wrapped his thumb with a napkin. The vampire licked his thumb and smiled. “So similar,” he muttered.
He continued, “If there is one thing I’ve learned in all my years—”
Morgan rolled his eyes at the vampire rhetoric, but allowed Lorcan to continue with, “There is no greater force in this universe than a parent’s love, than his desire to protect his children, or the lengths to which a parent will go when that child is threatened.
“I killed my family’s enemies so that my wife and children could have the luxury of revering life. It was my father’s dream, after all, that humans and vampires could live together in harmony. He may be gone, but the dream endures with the Pendragon family . . .”
Lorcan trailed off to pour more whiskey. Both werewolves waited with their arms crossed across their chests.
The vampire continued, “My son was very much like his mother—an artist, a hedonist—and raised with the fundamental belief that all life was sacred. But like all boys, he was easily swayed by the attentions of a woman. He had questionable friends for quite some time, but it was his childish desires to impress a girl that landed him in Savannah twenty-five years ago. Mina begged me to follow him, but I was too late. Your father had attacked my son’s object of affection, and in the rage and confusion of youth, my son attacked back. He had never been tested in battles nor learned how to control his anger as I was forced to. He only saw your father as the monster who clawed out Minerva’s eyes.”
