the floor. “Chris?”
Blood pooled around his head and shoulders, oozing from the gash on the side of his neck. But for all the blood, the wound wasn’t bleeding as much as she would have expected, as if it were closing on its own. Or maybe he didn’t have much blood left.
“Chris?”
He groaned in response and reached toward her with one bloodstained hand.
She grabbed his hand and held it tightly. “I’m so sorry I didn’t believe you.”
His breath came in shallow gasps.
With her heart pounding in her ears, Athena brushed matted blond hair from his face. “Hang on. I’ll call an ambulance.”
Four days and three nights passed in a painful blur as Jake worked his way west. He lost the car somewhere, and vaguely remembered cornering a coyote in order to feed. Finally, he found himself crawling up the red rock trail that led to Skidmore’s castle. Unfortunately, weak and helpless, he collapsed before he reached the doorway. Giving up, he turned onto his back to face the morning sun.
The morning sun, however, did not rise onto his lifeless body to finish him off. Instead, he woke in a small, dark room that it took him a while to recognize.
Careful not to move, he tried to clear his thoughts, but the fog seemed to thicken. He turned his head to look. Beneath a half dozen paintings, the wall appeared to be smoothed red rock. It must be one of the numerous rooms Skidmore had carved out to create his elaborate underground mansion. Relieved, Jake closed his eyes again.
“Dear boy, are you still with us?”
Thomas Skidmore’s voice.
Jake nodded.
“Well, I’m delighted. I have a drink for you. Not exactly herbal tea, but I do believe it will help what ails you.”
The scent of red blood cells snapped Jake’s eyes open. He sat up, grabbed the glass from Skidmore, and gulped down the nourishment.
Almost instantly, warmth spread through his limbs and torso, and the healing power fired him from the inside out. Unlike the drink at the Tunnel, this was fresh, warm, and full of vibrant emotions.
“What…who…” He stared at the glass.
Skidmore took the glass from his hand and smiled. “Oh, we have quite a few donors at the moment. When you feel more like your old self, I’ll show you around.” He rose and stood beside the bed. “Take your time. I’ve left clothes for you in the bath. Make yourself at home.”
And then he left.
Jake rolled off of the satin-covered bed and stood on shaky legs. His face seemed to be covered with mud and no telling what else, and he wore ragged, filthy clothes. The hunger still nagged at him, but seemed to be manageable. He pulled open his shirt and looked at the nearly healed hole in his chest.
No dusty street, no mano a mano, no matching wits, no fair fight, just a stake driven through his back while he was distracted.
“Bastard,” he whispered.
After a long, hot shower, Jake wandered through the maze of hallways, following hints of voices until he found Skidmore talking to several of his lackey vampires. The conversation skidded to a halt when Jake walked into the sitting room.
“Dear boy, you look immensely better. Here, have another drink.” Skidmore filled a glass from a dark pitcher and handed it to him.
Unable to stop, Jake drained the glass, then frowned at it. “What did you mean by ‘quite a few donors at the moment’?”
Skidmore waved off the question. “There’s plenty of time for that. Tell me, what happened?”
Jake shrugged. “I found some of the hunters.”
“I could have guessed that much.” Skidmore motioned to the others and they hurried from the room. Then he settled into an oversized chair near an empty fireplace. “You must have uncovered quite a large group.”
Jake huffed. “Yeah, two.”
“Two? Two mortals did this to you?”
Jake upended the glass to get the last drop, then placed it on the serving table and sat in the chair opposite Skidmore’s. “Unfortunately, one of them was a very tempting redhead.” He ran his fingers through his wet hair.
“Ah.” Skidmore steepled his fingers under his chin. “So they found your weakness. That seems to be the modus operandi for this bunch.”
“What do you mean?”
“Modus operandi is the term—”
“I know what an MO is.” Jake frowned at his host. “What the hell are you talking about?”
Skidmore sighed as he rose. “Unfortunately, this group is more of a threat than we knew. André’s remains were found at the cabin in the mountains. In several pieces.”
“What?” Jake’s chest tightened with instant sorrow at the news. “But, how?”
“One can only guess. He’d sworn off human blood centuries ago, so it is unlikely he was in search of a meal. The signs suggest he stopped to help someone and was attacked by a group of at least four hunters armed with stakes and swords. He fled back to the cabin, where they caught up with him and…beheaded him.”
Jake stared at the Navajo rug under his feet. André’s wisdom had been a guiding light for so many for so long. The world became a darker place without him.
“Son of a bitch.”
Skidmore sighed again. “Crudely put, but a true sentiment indeed. And there are others unaccounted for.”
Jake’s gaze snapped up to Skidmore as his sorrow turned to fear. “Katie?”
Skidmore shrugged. “She’s not due in for another night or two. I wouldn’t worry too much, however. She’s armed with the knowledge of their methods, and, as we both know, she’s a formidable foe.”
Jake knew well just how formidable Katie could be, but that wouldn’t stop him from worrying about her. After all, he’d been caught off guard.
“No, I’m not overly concerned about Katie, but I fear the worst for Michael Ponce and his friends.”
Jake knew Ponce, but not well. He moved more in Skidmore’s circle than Jake’s. Still, the idea that some of the older vampires had been hunted down had his attention. “What are we going to do?”
Skidmore, with another of his dramatic waves, motioned toward the door. “Come, dear boy, let me show you what we’re already doing.”
Jake followed Skidmore down several long, winding hallways, which seemed to take them well below ground level. The last hallway opened into a tremendous room filled with people, vampires, and a variety of mechanical devices. Rings protruding from rock walls held chains attached to the wrists and ankles of men and women, many lacking clothing. Even the vampires wore little more
