Xavier: Vampires in Europe (Vampires in America Book 14) Page 22

  “Right, but make it fast,” Brian said, crouching next to them. “You need to be out before they finish eating.”

  “We’ll be careful. I’m not going to get caught by a bunch of brainwashed teenagers.” As she spoke, she was removing her ballistic vest, followed by her boots, which she exchanged for a pair of well-used sneakers. Her weapons had been removed, except for her Glock pistol with a thirty-round mag, and her belt knife. She and Kerry were both dressed in tank tops and khaki pants, which they’d rolled up to mid-calf.

  When they’d checked their comm units and were ready to go, Layla looked at Kerry and said, “You’ve got our route fixed, right?”

  “Yes, ma’am.”

  “Good, you lead. And you guys stay frosty and alert up here.”

  Brian and River chuckled at the favorite movie quote, but their nods were serious. This mission had been a cakewalk when all they’d been doing was talking about it. But now shit might go down.

  The two women moved with practiced ease through the thick shrubs and stunted trees covering the hillside between them and the compound. They’d marched twice as fast through much more hellish environments on other battlefields, but the tough part of tonight’s approach was still ahead of them. Once they paused to lie flat on the ground and brought up scopes to check out the building, looking for cameras or watchers they might not have spotted from above. Layla found it impossible to believe there was no security at all on this place.

  “Maybe the doors are locked,” Kerry murmured, as she continued to scan.

  “Probably. From the little I could see, they looked like push-bar fire doors. Easy open from the inside, easy lock from the outside.”

  “Not an easy lock to by-pass, though. Not with a crowd inside. If we open a door and they’re all sitting there eating dinner, they just might notice us.”

  “Roger that. I say we go in a window.”

  “I’d sure like to get a look inside before we pick an entry point,” Kerry commented.

  “Yeah. No ground level windows on this side, though. Let’s go down a bit more, take a stroll around the building, see if we can get a peek into where they all are.”

  “Agreed. On three.”

  They ran across the open ground, crouched low and moving fast. If they were wrong, and someone was perched in a crow’s nest outlook on top of the building, they were fucked. But there hadn’t been any sign of that. So it was a risk, but a good one.

  And it worked. In minutes, their backs were pressed up against a windowless wall, listening to nothing but silence. Looking over, Layla lifted her chin ahead of them, got a confirming nod from Kerry, and took off down the length of one wall to the corner, where they paused long enough to verify there was no one on the next side of the building, then moved along that wall in the same fashion.

  They were about to give up on the idea of windows, when they peeked around next corner and found a long row of them starting about waist height and stopping a foot from the roof eaves. They could hear a steady hum of noise coming through those windows—lively conversations, with an occasional shout of laughter, the clank of flatware on cups and plates, the random scrape of a chair on a tiled floor. It was the sound of a large group of people having a meal. There were no amplified voices, no announcements or speaker that they could detect. Not yet, anyway.

  Dropping to their hands and knees, they crawled below the windows, careful to remain close to the wall to avoid anyone catching a glimpse of movement. It was unlikely, but why take the risk? Once past the final window, there was a short expanse of wall—three feet maybe— and then an apparent portico, which Layla verified led to another closed, push-bar fire door.

  Using hand-signals, she told Kerry they were going to go past the door to the next stretch of wall, which also had windows, but not as many. By now, they were completely out of sight of Brian and River keeping watch up on the hill. They couldn’t risk a verbal message over their comms, but before moving on, Layla sent a high frequency squelch to signal that she and Kerry were secure and undetected.

  Moving past the door—which was too close to the dining hall, even if they’d managed to get through it—they went down on all-fours once more and passed under the first double window on the next stretch of wall. They stopped there and listened. Their eyes met, and Kerry pulled out a small mirror on a telescoping wand. Expanding the wand to its greatest length, she slid it very slowly up over the window frame until it was even with the corner of the glass. Then turning it at a slight angle, they both studied what it showed of the room, which turned out to be a rather boring office, with cheap metal shelves against one wall and a closed door.

  Retracting the mirror and tucking it into a pocket, Kerry stood very slowly until her eye level was where the mirror had been a moment earlier. When she’d dropped down next to Layla once more, she spoke in a barely detectable voice. “Office. Cheap furniture, piles of what look like pamphlets or handouts on metal shelves. Sakal’s not wasting his money on furnishings, that’s for sure. The room’s empty, door’s closed, but looks like it is used on a regular basis. There’s trash in the can, empty coffee cup on the desk, jacket on back of the door. The window’s very doable.”

  Decision time, Layla thought. Could they risk going through the window? Did they have time? She wished she knew how long their dinner took, and if the meal was just a precursor to an evening brainwashing session. That was probably too much to hope for, but they wouldn’t need much time. They already knew what the cult was about, so they weren’t there to steal propaganda or financial data. Their only purpose was to get the lay of the building. That big dining hall, for example, took up a good third of the interior space, which meant they probably slept communally, too. The building was a single floor, with a pitched roof. It was possible some people slept in the attic, but space would be limited.

  “We’re going in,” she decided, speaking softly. “I want to open the office door, get a look both ways, then get out. We’ll exit down this side,” she added, pointing to the far wall which they hadn’t covered yet. “I want to know if it’s all offices, or if there are bedrooms on this side.”

  Kerry nodded, then stood and went to work on the window. The frame was weathered metal, not built to withstand the summer humidity or the long, cold and wet winters—more evidence that Sakal’s compound had been cheaply, and probably quickly, constructed. Kerry had the lock open and the glass removed in minutes. There was no screen, and the office was predictably warm once they got inside.

  Neither of them bothered with the desk or metal shelves. They went right to the door and, with Kerry standing behind it, Layla twisted the knob slowly, then barely cracked it open. She stood and listened until she was satisfied that no one was near. Slipping her cell phone from a pants pocket, she widened the opening, stepped into the hall, and immediately began videoing the hallway from left to right. She was deeply tempted to hurry to the opposite end of the hall from the dining room, to grab shots of stairwells or cross hallways, but she’d no sooner had the thought, than a chime sounded from the dining hall and the persistent hum of people talking and eating cut off like a switch being thrown.

  Knowing their time was up, she quickly stepped back into the office, closed the door, and signaled with a jerk of her head that it was time to make their exit.

  Kerry was already moving. She was at the window and outside before Layla had the door closed and crossed the room herself. Once she was out, as well, Kerry popped the window back into place, but didn’t bother locking it. It would take too much time, and an unlocked window with no signs of intrusion was easily excused and forgotten. It wasn’t worth the effort or the delay.

  Layla led the way down the rest of the building side, slowing at every window interval for a quick glance, then moving on. When they reached the end of building, they ran directly to the hillside with its covering greenery and began climbing, wan
ting to put as much distance between them and the building as quickly as possible.

  They’d climbed a good seventy or so yards into the increasingly dense foliage before they stopped long enough to send another high frequency squelch to signal the others that they were out and safe. After that, it was simply a matter of time and a lot of scratched skin before they made their way back to the observation post.

  When they returned, Brian gave them a relieved once-over. The op was done, everyone was back unharmed, and the enemy was none the wiser—the very definition of a successful infiltration.

  “Pictures and vid,” Layla said simply, then glanced at the horizon where a brilliant sunset bathed the sky. “Let’s hang around until Sakal shows, so we can get photos and a time record. Xavier will want to see what we’ve got.” She handed Brian her phone. “Air drop my files to your phone, then upload to our private server once we get back. I don’t want this to be our only record.”

  “You don’t trust the vamp?”

  “Depends on what I’m trusting him for. Will he betray us? No. Will he think he knows better and try to leave us out of the action? Abso-fucking-lutely.”

  And that finally brought a grin to his face.

  Chapter Thirteen

  THE SUN WAS BARELY an hour past setting when they arrived back at the Fortalesa. Layla knew the vamps would be awake, but not necessarily up and around yet. They had to shower and shave just like anyone else, and at least some of them would take the time to feed—especially if the food was in bed with them. She pictured Xavier sinking his fangs into some dark beauty sharing his bed, and immediately banished the image from her mind. The women he chose for food were none of her business.

  “Even if he fucks them?” She ignored that stupid voice in her head, focusing instead on stripping off her clothes and stepping into a shower hot enough to wipe every thought from her brain. It would have been nice to linger, but she wanted to catch Xavier before he set anything in motion without the intel she and Kerry had secured that afternoon. She turned off the water, did a quick rubdown with a towel, then brushed out and braided her wet hair. Pulling some combat-style pants from her duffle, she realized it was her last clean pair. Damn it. She’d run out of clean clothes. That meant laundry. Ugh. When she reached for her socks, she was weirdly pleased to see several fresh pairs still waiting for her.

  That’s what her life had come to since being back here—the joy of clean socks.

  “Fuck. I need to get away from this place.”

  “What was that, Cap?”

  She snarled at the closed door which provided visual privacy, but let every fart and moan drift into the hallway. “Go away,” she yelled and was rewarded by the sound of laughter trailing down the hallway.

  Once fully dressed, she grabbed her phone and marched back to the common area of the barracks, where her teammates were chowing down on grilled steak and fried peppers and potatoes. It smelled heavenly, and Layla’s stomach growled on cue. But she forced herself to settle for a few grabbed slices of steak and strode for the door.

  “No dinner, Cap?”

  “Save some for me. I want to brief Xavier before the night gets started.”

  “No guarantees.”

  “Assholes,” she called over her shoulder. They’d save something. She hoped.

  Activity in the vampire wing was in full swing when she approached the first guard point. The vamp either recognized her, or had been told to let her pass, because though his eyes lit with a red glow for a moment or two, he stood aside before she reached him and let her walk by.

  Xavier’s office door stood open, which seemed innocent enough. But she still hesitated before walking slowly into the room, every sense on alert.

  “Whom did you expect?”

  The velvety dark voice came from the open door behind her, making her whirl, knife in hand. Xavier stood there alone, head tilted curiously as he gave the knife a pointed glance and lifted his gaze to her face. “What do you think you could do with that?”

  “Nothing. You startled me, that’s all. It’s automatic.”

  He closed the door behind him and strolled past her to the small bar. “Drink?” he asked, pouring himself some of the wine.

  “No, thanks.”

  He spun as gracefully as a dancer and took a sip from his glass. “I assume you wanted to see me.”

  She did, but now that she was there, now that he’d reminded her oh-so-subtly of the overwhelming power he possessed, she considered what his reaction might be to her information. Not the information itself, but her method of retrieving it. She gave a mental shrug. She’d known all of that going in, and it hadn’t stopped her. Her team was hers to command. Besides, he hadn’t explicitly forbidden the mission. Mostly because he’d been asleep and unable to consult on it, but still . . .

  Oh, get on with it, Layla. When did you become such a wuss?

  He said nothing, just stood there looking gorgeous, while regarding her with slightly amused indulgence. Her back and her resolve stiffened. Smug bastard.

  “We acquired some useful intel today,” she said, retrieving her phone from a pants pocket. Unlocking it, she pulled up the interior images and held out the phone to him.

  His expression once more curious, he set down his drink and took the phone. He didn’t say anything as he scrolled through the images, stopping more than once to study a particular image more closely.

  “I’ve worked up a sketch of the layout based on what we saw today, and what we judge from the exterior. It’s on my tablet, but I can send it to you, if you give me the number or email where you want it.”

  He handed her phone back, picked up his drink, took another sip, and set it down again. “That’s excellent . . . if I planned to take the compound,” he added, eyes no longer amused.

  She stared for a moment, trying to understand what he meant. “Of course, we’re hitting the compound. That’s the only sure location for Sakal.”

  “Is it?”

  She noticed for the first time that he’d gone still, muscles flexing under a tight, long-sleeved T-shirt, and eyes flat with anger.

  “You’re not going to attack him there,” she said slowly. “When was this decided? And don’t you think that’s something I should have known?”

  “You wouldn’t have needed to know, if you’d informed me of your plans ahead of time,” he said in a calm, rational voice that was utterly belied by the growing pewter fire in his eyes.

  A matching fire began to burn in her gut as her own anger rose to meet his. “My team is not under your command.”

  “Aren’t they?” he snarled right back. “Aren’t they, and you, living in my Fortalesa?”

  “Yes, of course, but—”

  “And am I not in sole command of the entire Fortalesa? Or were the barracks exempted from my rule, and I’ve forgotten?”

  She ground her teeth at the snide addition. “You know damn well—”

  He took two steps closer so quickly that he was standing a breath away before she saw him move. “Then tell me, Layla, why did you conduct this mission without telling me?”

  She stared up at him with narrowed eyes and spoke slowly, enunciating every word. “It was an opportunity to gain intel. We took advantage of it. It happens.”

  “Not in my world,” he replied the same way.

  “I hate you,” she hissed.

  An unexpected grin lit his face. “No, you don’t.”

  And before she could stop him, he’d wrapped one powerful arm around her waist, and the other over her shoulder, hand fisted around her braid, as he lowered his head and took her mouth in a hot, demanding kiss.

  She wanted to shove him away, to punch that rock-hard gut and curse at him. Instead, she met his mouth with a hungry groan, going up on her toes and opening her lips to deepen the kiss. His arms
tightened until there wasn’t a millimeter of space between them, while her arms wrapped around his neck, fingers tugging his hair.

  His hold firmed as he walked her backwards, all but carrying her until the edge of the conference table hit her thighs. He kept moving, settling her on the table, spreading her legs, and stepping between them—all without releasing her mouth, his kiss destroying any lingering resistance beneath a wave of desire. Layla had never felt as alive as she did in that moment. Every inch of her body, from her skin down to muscle and bone, and oh God, her heart, was so full of need, so full of . . . love, damn it. Tears burned the backs of her eyes, and she was grateful he couldn’t see. Had she thought she could walk away from this man? That she hated him? What a fool she’d been. She never should have come back here, but it was too late now. Too late.

  She must have whispered that last against his lips, because he pulled back to see her face, his gaze searching her eyes. “Layla?” he murmured, even as he gave her mouth a look so blatantly carnal that she felt a rush of hot desire pulse between her thighs. She moaned, her eyes closing against a staggering tide of need for this man. This vampire.

  Her only answer to his unvoiced question was a shake of her head. She couldn’t even remember what she’d whispered only a few seconds ago. It didn’t matter. All that mattered was him. “Xavier,” she breathed, and closed the small distance between them, her tongue sliding between his sexy lips, using his distraction to explore his warm mouth, his tongue as it stroked hers. Strong, claiming.

  A wordless snarl said her explorations were over as he gripped the bottom of her shirt and tugged it over her head, tossing it to the side while he fisted a big hand in her hair and slammed his mouth against hers in a growling, vicious kiss of possession. His fingers were already at the front of her bra.