and a whorehouse or two. Now, most of that was only a memory, though Carmen had been here once or twice during its heyday.
These days, this was where men went when they wanted to do things in secret, where the dim lighting and sense of anonymity made them feel at ease. It was an area she sometimes frequented when the craving for fresh, warm blood grew too strong. She’d become quite a pro at extracting just enough to make her target pass out, but without serious harm.
“Here.” Rick’s gravelly voice brought her back to the present. “In a moment, there’s going to be an explosion. It will bring the rats scurrying from their holes.”
She swung around and stared. “Why?”
“It’s something I promised to do, as a sign of good faith. There’s an illegal shipment of guns in one of these buildings. The Sons of Darkness needed a distraction so they could get them out. This will be a big one.” He got out his phone and prepared to punch in a number. “Are you ready?”
“Sure.” This got more interesting by the minute.
“Here we go.” He dialed a number. A second later, a loud boom sounded and the ground shook. Someone screamed and someone else swore. Several people staggered toward them, some of them drunk, others in shock.
“I’m calling 911,” Rick told them, holding up his phone. She watched, wondering if he really would since he didn’t appear to be in any hurry to punch in the numbers. Maximizing time for the distraction, she guessed.
Someone else must have called, though, because sirens sounded in the distance, getting closer. The occasional straggler came down the sidewalk, one or two of them appearing shell shocked. Thick black smoke billowed from somewhere behind them, appearing to almost follow them as they fled.
“Do you think there were any injuries?” she asked.
“No one was seriously hurt,” Rick assured her, sounding positive even though she didn’t see how he could be certain. “The bomb was in a locked warehouse where we stacked some dry hay and bundled newspaper. Just enough to start a good fire with possible building collapse. It’s far enough from the warehouse with the guns that no one will spot the crew moving the cargo. A perfect plan, if I do say so myself.”
Since he sounded so pleased with himself, she felt the need to point out what seemed to her an obvious flaw. “But you destroyed a building. Most likely a historical one.”
His jaw tightened. “That kind of collateral damage is better than people. Millions are at risk unless we do our job and get inside this group. I hope you understand that.”
“I do.” Before she could say anything else, the sirens grew closer. Lights flashing, two patrol cars pulled up the next street over. A moment later, a fire engine and ambulance arrived. Along with a growing crowd of people, they watched as Galveston PD cordoned off the street and sidewalk.
Soon a KHOU 11 news van arrived, which seemed awfully quick since they were out of Houston. They set up a reporter with her back to the mayhem, handed her a microphone and began filming.
“You do know in a few minutes that reporter is going to start asking people what they saw?” she said drily.
“That’s good. We want to be seen. How else can I make sure Sons of Darkness know I was there?”
“You seem to have thought of everything.” She shook her head.
“That’s my job,” he countered. “And I’m damn good at it.”
Before long a couple of the other news stations sent their own crews. The crowd of onlookers continued to swell. News cameras panned the area. Rick grabbed Carmen’s arm and made sure they were front and center, virtually guaranteeing them a spot on one, if not all, of the stations’ evening news programs.
Since she’d spent most of her long, long life avoiding the spotlight, Carmen struggled with this. While she managed to keep her outward appearance cool, calm and collected, inside she battled the urge to step back and disappear into the large group.
But Rick’s plan, she concluded reluctantly, actually made sense. If this was what was needed for them to gain entrance into that group, so be it. The idea that she—Carmen Vargas, Vampire—could make a difference in this world intrigued her. Plus, if she were totally honest, as she always was, she ached to get her hands on a microscope and take a close look at this new virus. Because of her expertise, the CDC had even contacted her several times, wanting her to come to Atlanta and work with them. She’d been tempted, but she’d come to value her friends and life here in Galveston, so she’d declined. Since they were no doubt involved closely in this case, she had a feeling that was how her name had been mentioned. For that, she considered herself lucky.
“Okay,” Rick said, tightening his grip on her arm. “Time to go.”
This time, she let him pull her away without questioning. He led her through the thick throng of people, up the sidewalk and to the still-crowded Pier 21 area. A couple had just gotten up from a bench along the walkway, and he hurried them to it.
“No matter what happens,” he told her sotto voce, “show no expression. Just go along with it.”
“No worries. I’m a master at that.”
They sat. He put his arm around her shoulder, drawing her close. She let herself relax into the curve of his arm, liking the solidness of his muscular body. They pretended to be people watching. Despite the commotion going on a few blocks over, most of the ones strolling by her were fixated on having a good time.
“Mind if I join you?” The tall man wore a baseball cap pulled low over his eyes. Carmen eyed him coolly but didn’t speak.
“Sure,” Rick said, pulling Carmen closer to him so there was additional room on the bench. “Have a seat.”
The stranger sat, staring straight ahead and ignoring him. Every sense alert, Carmen pretended not to be hyperconscious of him.
“Are you the biologist?” he finally asked, low-voiced.
Widening her eyes, Carmen nodded. “I am. Actually, I’m an infectious disease specialist. And this is my husband, Rick.” The instant she spoke, she realized she hadn’t asked if they were using assumed names or not. Most likely not, at least for her, since these people no doubt had wanted to verify her credentials.
“Rick.” The man nodded, his gaze skittering from her to Rick and back again. “I’m Landers. The shipment was moved without a hitch. Thank you for your help.”
“No problem.” Rich shrugged, both his demeanor and his voice casual. “I did what you requested, and here we are. Are we in?”
“You’re in.” Landers stood, glancing left and then right. Finally, he focused on Rick and grinned. “Just so you know, we have several other guys who can do what you can do, but only one other biologist in our employ. Your wife is infinitely more valuable to us than you could ever be.”
Carmen exhaled, recognizing the tactic. Divide and conquer. Except she knew this wouldn’t work, not this time. “It’s okay,” she said, her tone lofty. “He likes that I make so much more money than he does. He jokes about being a kept man.”
“Really?” Landers shook his head. “Well, there’s none of that around here.
