Page 28 of The Brave (Black Arrowhead #6)

A tticus waited by the truck while a cold mist frosted his long-sleeved black shirt. They were staying in a cheap motel just northeast of Little Rock. The previous night had been a long one. After checking in, they located the homes of the two employees scheduled to be off during the attack. Though he felt nothing for these people, a quiet relief came over him to know that neither had family. He had instructed his employees not to hurt anyone who wasn’t on the list, and any family would have their memories scrubbed. At least now that was no longer a concern.

For hours they explored the town, memorizing the roads and observing nocturnal activities. Were there cops hanging around? Speed traps? Locals who went out at night? Hunters? Packs or other Breeds? An Air Force base was nearby. Since discretion was key, they didn’t go inside any stores, which might have security cameras. Immortals in small towns took notice of interlopers. When it got too late, Krys skipped dinner and went back to the motel.

While Lucian had given them a satellite image of the building, there were a lot of unknowns. Most of the roads were long and winding, homes located right off them instead of tucked deep in suburban neighborhoods. They couldn’t afford to be careless, so they chose a motel a decent distance away. That morning Krys slept in, then had pizza delivered to the room for an early lunch. Instead of driving around in the daylight, they stayed put and discussed different plans to get inside the building.

The only thing that gave him comfort was that no one running an illegal laboratory would be foolish enough to set up their operation in Shifter territory. Packs were inherently nosy about newcomers.

Atticus reclined his head and gazed up at the low clouds. The daytime was a harsh experience with bright contrast and blinding colors, but the night—that was when his perception of the world came alive. He drew in a breath of earthy pine and listened to the insects trilling. While most saw nothing but washed-out tones and dark shadows, the colors he perceived with his Vampire eyes were hypnotic.

When he heard toenails clicking on asphalt, Atticus faced the wooded area. Despite their introduction having gone over without any violence, Krys’s wolf bared his teeth and growled.

Atticus assessed him closely. Humans could be reasoned with; animals could not.

The brown wolf snarled before it shifted to human form, his menacing expression never changing. Krys prowled toward him naked.

“Feel better?” Atticus inquired.

Krys opened the truck door and put on the clothes he’d left on the seat. “Seventy dollars a night for this place is a rip-off. That comforter still has stains from 1982.”

“More than you realize,” Atticus murmured.

With Lakota’s help, they’d created fake IDs in case they were pulled over or needed to book a motel room. Everyone in their world had alias identification to make them easy to track, particularly if they wound up in trouble with the police. But Atticus and Krys needed to create alter identities that even the higher authority couldn’t trace.

Atticus climbed into the passenger side and shut the door.

After Krys put on the white T-shirt with the happy cartoon sun, he tied back his long hair. “When I’m on edge, my wolf needs to run. Better if he gets it out of his system before we do this.”

“I wasn’t complaining.” Atticus put on his seat belt while listening to Krys’s stomach growl. “But you should’ve eaten dinner as I suggested.”

“I fight better when I’m hungry.”

Atticus decided against wearing the grey jacket for the mission. Light colors stood out, and he wanted to shadow walk around the property first.

During the drive, Krys kept the heater on high. “What did you do last night?”

Atticus scratched his jaw. “You mean after you kicked me out of the room?”

“I can’t sleep with one eye open.”

“Since it was raining, I sat in the truck. When I heard a chainsaw, I got out to investigate, but then I realized it was coming from your room.”

“Bullshit. I don’t snore.”

Atticus turned his gaze out the window. “Who said it was coming from that end?”

Krys gave a throaty chuckle. “Are we settled on the flat-tire line?”

Atticus and Krys had tossed around ideas for how they would break into the facility. They’d explored different scenarios, picking each one apart to see what could go wrong. The building didn’t have windows, and while the steel siding would be easy enough to plow their truck through, they might kill innocents in the process.

“Anything more than a simple lie would alarm them,” Atticus remarked. “People have car trouble all the time, and since there aren’t any shops within walking distance, that will give you a believable reason to be knocking on their door.”

“Works for me.”

“While your wolf was running, I walked around in your shoes to get them muddy. Vampires pay attention to appearances. We’ll park a mile away and have you jog halfway there so you’re sweaty and flushed. That makes your story believable and would explain an accelerated heart rate, which you’ll already have because of adrenaline. Can you speak with a local accent?”

Krys arched his eyebrow. “I’m not trying to win a fucking award for my performance. If I get it wrong, they’ll know.” He stared at the road ahead. “When they open the door, make your move.”

“Lure them out as far as you can. The closer they are to the entrance, the easier it is for them to jump back inside and lock us out.”

“Where will you be?”

“Don’t worry about me. Just stay in the light and put a little distance between you two. That will make him feel less threatened.”

“We’re in the middle of fucking nowhere. You better have my back. If this goes south, they’ll never find our bodies.”

Timing was everything. Atticus had instructed his employees not to make a move on their targets until he sent the word. If one of them botched the job, their target could call the facility and tip them off. It was entirely possible they had a self-destruct plan in place.

Lucian sent a message to the dead Vampires’ boss that the mission was complete—meaning Salem was dead. That would make the workers and guards less reactive to a knock at the door if they were expecting their men back at any time.

Krys slowed down near the spot they’d chosen yesterday and pulled the truck halfway off the road onto the grass. After shutting off the engine, he stared at the dark road ahead.

Atticus reached beneath the seat and handed him a small stake he could easily conceal. “Do you have the stunner?”

Krys lifted his shirt, revealing a sheath attached to his belt.

After a quiet moment, Krys stroked his short goatee. “If anything happens to me, tell Archer I’m proud of him.”

With that, Krys exited the vehicle and stalked up the dark road. He lifted the back of his shirt and hid the small wooden stake before quickening his pace to a light jog.

Atticus muted his phone and turned the brightness almost all the way down. He had a group text ready to go and only needed to send the message. After putting the phone in his pocket, he shadow walked past Krys. When he neared the turnoff, he ducked into the woods and traversed the grove of trees. Shadow walking in darkness allowed him to move quickly and fluidly, and he had mastered this skill. Gravity didn’t pull him down as he gripped the piney tree trunks, making less sound than if he were walking across the decayed forest floor.

He crouched on a limb when he caught sight of the building. Three vehicles were parked on the left, out of sight from the road. He didn’t see nor hear any sign of guards outside. The only heartbeats within distance were coming from smaller mammals. The security lights and cameras positioned around the long metal building provided plenty of light for Krys to outrun the Vampire if he needed to, but that would only take him as far as the road.

From what they knew, three guards were inside the building at all times. The Vampires they’d exterminated rotated shifts with the others. Based on what Lucian could gather from the text messages, one usually stood outside, but right now they were short-staffed. Lucian parsed through a lot of messages on the confiscated phones, so between that and the information Atticus extracted from the one Vampire, they knew that two scientists worked the night shift.

As the minutes ticked by, Atticus surreptitiously shadow walked around the building at a safe distance. No sounds came from within, so it was possible they had soundproofed the building. The structure only had one door.

He positioned himself behind a tree with a clear vision of the entrance. When Krys approached at a light jog, Atticus held his breath for a long time until his heartbeat slowed. A Vampire’s heart could stop beating, and they could survive being underwater or buried without falling unconscious. Not everyone had the strength to endure it, but their magic protected them. Only beheading and fire were guaranteed deaths. That wasn’t to say going without oxygen didn’t hurt, but Atticus had learned to block pain and the urgency to breathe.

Krys strutted up to the door and knocked hard, then paced in a circle. After a minute, he banged on the door again. “Is anyone in there? I need some help.” Then he started complaining to himself about his flat tire and no towing company nearby, which was a smart tactic. “All I need is a phone,” he muttered.

The moment the door opened and a man stepped out, Atticus sent a one-word text message to his employees that simply read: Proceed.

“Hey,” Krys said, out of breath. “Thank God someone’s here. My car hit a pothole up the road and it fucked up the tire. I don’t have a spare.”

The pale man canted his head. “And what do you presume that has to do with me?”

Krys chuckled and put his fists on his hips. “My ex threw my ass out and didn’t give me all my shit, including my phone. I’m not asking to come in and bother you or nothing, but if you could call a tow service, I’d appreciate it. I think it jacked up the rim.”

Atticus sharpened his hearing. Someone inside was telling the Vampire at the door to get rid of the guy.

Krys took a step back and caught his breath. “If there aren’t any towing companies around here, I can just call my brother to come get me. It’ll be quick, and I’ll be out of your hair. Walking around in these woods is creeping me out, you know? It’s dark as hell out here, and I’m pretty sure I heard a bear or something.”

The Vampire cursed under his breath and stepped farther out. When he reached into his back pocket to retrieve his phone, Atticus rocketed toward the open doorway. Krys reached behind his pants and then staked the Vampire in the chest, silently catching the man before he hit the ground.

Atticus stopped at the doorway and looked inside. Insulated foam covered the walls and ceiling, and the building’s length measured roughly three hundred feet. The enclosed rooms on the left caught his attention as he counted ten doors. A man in a white coat rolled backward in his office chair from one of the many dividers on the right. His countenance was more bewildered than alarmed.

The enclosure at the opposite end concerned Atticus. Someone could barricade themself in there, and he wasn’t certain if the door was thick steel.

A Vampire leaped over a metal platform directly above him.

Instead of running, Atticus jumped up in an aerial assault, and the two men collided.

Atticus and the black-haired oaf hit the floor. The man struck him in the face, but their proximity prevented either of them from landing a crippling blow. Atticus punched him in the ribs, breaking them. Since Vampire healing magic worked fast, he slammed the guard’s head against the floor.

The Vampire bucked, and Atticus flew into the foam-covered wall. He jumped to his feet to face his enemy. From the corner of his eye, he spotted Krys fighting the two medical workers.

Atticus worried most about the third guard or any others that might be on-site.

The guard lunged, but Atticus was quick on his feet and unleashed a vicious blow to the man’s back. He attempted to break the Vampire’s leg with a hard kick, but his opponent spun out of the way.

Atticus wished briefly that he’d brought impalement wood, but the risk of it being used against him was too great. A quick glance around didn’t reveal anything he could use—everything was metal and plastic.

This guy was a fighter but wasn’t as strong as Atticus. Still, when the Vampire shoved him fifteen feet across the room, it knocked the wind out of him.

Atticus ripped a metal leg off a small chair and threw it so hard that it blurred through the air. His attacker couldn’t move fast enough, and the metal leg speared him through the stomach. Blood sprayed out his back and onto the floor.

Seizing the opportunity, Atticus grabbed a mop by the wall and snapped the handle free with a stomp of his foot. He charged at the Vampire, who was preoccupied with removing the metal from his stomach.

A man bellowed from across the room. Krys growled savagely but was still in human form and clearly had everything under control.

Atticus held the mop handle like a shovel, then drove it beneath the Vampire’s chin and into his skull. The guard fell on his butt, waving his hands frantically. With Vampire strength, Atticus twisted his neck and pulled his head away from his body.

He took note of red gasoline canisters near the shelves filled with food and marched down the center of the room. He searched the work areas to the right, which were equipped with microscopes, refrigerators, cabinets, large monitors, computers, and other medical equipment. Tiny vials of liquid filled a cart.

He passed a deceased lab worker, but before moving on, he knelt by him and sharpened his hearing in search of a heartbeat. Once Atticus was certain the man wasn’t alive, he continued his search.

Monitors on the walls displayed security footage, but not of the outside. One screen in particular drew his attention. He turned around and looked at the enclosed rooms on the opposite side, then back at the cameras. Of the ten rooms, seven lights were out. While Atticus could see in the dark, that didn’t translate to images generated on a screen, so he could only see what was in the other three rooms. A young woman paced in one while hugging her middle. In another, a man slept, seemingly unaware of their attack. The third was empty.

Krys marched to the back of the building, his shirt torn and chest bloody. “Don’t make my wolf come out and get you!”

When he approached a divider, a man in a white coat emerged wielding a giant pole. While they fought, Atticus directed his attention toward the enclosed rooms. He approached the first one, moved the latch, and opened the heavy door.

“Get up,” he said to the sleeping man.

The captive turned his head and peered over his shoulder. Despite the long beard, the man appeared physically young. But without knowing his Breed, age couldn’t be assumed.

Atticus crossed the room and hauled the man to a sitting position. Fear brimmed in those green eyes, so Atticus loosened his grip and turned on his Vampire charm.

“Hold my gaze. You’re relaxed now. Nothing to fear, and no one is going to harm you.”

The man’s entire demeanor changed, and his shoulders sagged as he succumbed to Vampire magic.

Atticus realized the man was wearing only a hospital gown. “What is the last thing you remember before these people took you?”

“I was walking to the bar.”

“Right. And before you got there, you were hit by a car. You don’t remember the accident, do you?”

“No.”

“You weren’t kidnapped or experimented on. All your memories since that fateful night are gone. After you were struck, you had amnesia, and you’ve been wandering around this whole time but won’t remember it because of the amnesia. A Relic found you and cured you of the amnesia. Isn’t that wonderful?”

“Yes.”

“You’ll never get those lost memories back, but you don’t care. You’re just happy to have your health. What’s your Breed?”

“Shifter. Deer.”

That was even better. Atticus had been thinking of making him wear the dead Vampire’s clothes, but the bloody shirt had a hole and might land him in trouble walking down the road.

“When you leave this room, walk to the entrance and ignore every sight and sound. You won’t see anything but the door. How much of your shift can you remember?”

“All of it.”

“Splendid. Once you’re outside, I want you to shift. Have your deer run as far from here as he can. You won’t remember me or anything about this place, including where it’s located. The farther you run, that confusion will fade and be replaced with excitement that you’re going home. Your amnesia is cured, but you’ve lost time because of the accident and will never have it restored. Now go.”

The man headed out of the room like a zombie. Atticus couldn’t concern himself with where the man ended up. Shifters were crafty, and if they woke up after a long shift in an unfamiliar place, they knew how to get clothes and help, even if it meant stealing.

In the next room, a nervous woman paced. Her sunken eyes and a collar told a sad tale. Atticus shattered the collar and charmed her in the same manner before she ran to freedom. The next rooms he searched were empty.

Meanwhile, Krys and the other lab worker were still battling it out. When the Mage blasted Krys from behind, Krys shifted.

Atticus opened the second-to-last door, and light infiltrated the darkness. A man whirled into view and struck him in the skull with a hard metal object. Atticus reeled back in pain, blood blurring his vision.

A bald-headed Vampire with alabaster skin stepped out holding a tire iron. He swung again, only this time Atticus caught it. In a quick motion, Atticus yanked it from the man and speared it across the room, where it exploded through a row of cabinets.

“You fucker!” the guard snarled before vaulting at him.

Atticus dodged a choke hold by charging him like a bull and shoving the man back inside the room. He unleashed a series of punches, but the Vampire slammed him against the concrete wall.

Before Atticus could jump to his feet, the guard lifted a bed and hurled it at him. Atticus slid across the floor with lightning speed to block the doorway, then grabbed the guard’s ankles and pulled him off his feet. Before the pale man could get up, Atticus snapped his leg in multiple places. The man bellowed and thrashed, trying to crawl away, but Atticus grabbed his other leg and did the same.

Breaking the leg bones would only incapacitate him temporarily, so Atticus needed to hurry before any healing took place. He lifted the man by his broken legs and dragged him out of the room, ignoring his wails.

I need an axe. Anything sharp. Either that or…

Then he remembered the gasoline. Halfway across the building, a blood-curdling yelp sounded from the back. He looked over his shoulder at the Mage delivering multiple energy blasts on Krys’s wolf.

Atticus dropped the Vampire’s legs and kicked in his skull with a sickening crunch. When the wolf’s labored breathing filled his ears, he sprinted toward the skirmish. The Mage was straddling Krys’s wolf while assaulting him with energy strong enough to kill a Shifter.

Atticus moved in swiftly and kicked the man so hard that he flew into a row of filing cabinets. Krys’s heartbeat was faint, and that’s when it hit him that the Mage hadn’t been blasting him with energy—he’d been juicing him.

“Dammit. He was stealing your energy.”

Vampire blood wouldn’t help the wolf, so Atticus reluctantly fed the lab worker his blood to heal him.

The bearded man snapped to attention and blinked up at Atticus.

“What is your rare gift?” Atticus held his gaze to charm the truth out of him.

“I’m a Healer.”

“Use your Mage powers to heal that wolf. Do as I say.”

The man crawled over the wolf and placed his hands on Krys’s side. Blue threads of light leaked out from his fingertips like cobwebs, and the wolf groaned and stirred with life.

Once he finished the transfer, the Mage sat back. “That’s all I can do.”

Atticus lifted him up by his collar. “No. There’s one more thing you can do for me. Die. ”

He sank his fangs into the Mage’s neck and drank until his heart stopped. Then he threw the husk of a man aside. Although the Mage might eventually regenerate, it wouldn’t be for a very long time. And Atticus had plans for this place.

Krys morphed back to human form. “Ffffuck.” Lying naked on his side, he pushed himself up and staggered around. “What the hell happened?”

“The Mage juiced your wolf.” Atticus looked toward the front of the building and spotted the Vampire sitting up. “Can you fight?”

Krys picked up the stake. “I got this motherfucker.”

Before Atticus could argue, Krys ran like a warrior into battle without a stitch of clothing on. Atticus watched him with admiration. Not many men had the fortitude to bounce back from a Mage attack and still be up for a fight.

Just as he stepped forward to help, a door creaked behind him.

Suddenly the lights shut off.

Atticus pivoted and sharpened his Vampire vision. Standing before him was a face he’d seen once before—a face carved into his memory. He wasn’t certain at first if maybe he was misremembering until he saw the distinctive neck tattoo. Atticus drew in a gasp, which made the Vampire cock his head.

“Do I know you?” the man asked. “You look at me as if we’ve met.”

“Three thousand years ago, you killed everyone in a village.”

The tall man shrugged, his long black hair shifting with the motion. “The dregs of civilization—they all run together.”

“There was a pregnant woman in a tavern who served you ale and refused your salacious offer. You killed her.”

The man turned his gaze upward, displaying the ancient demonic symbols tattooed on his neck. “Ah yes. The wench.” Then he squinted at Atticus. “You were the arrogant boy—the one who warned me to stay away.”

“You should have listened.”

“As should you.” He gave a sardonic grin. “Now you know what happens to those who cross me. You were a sniveling boy when I left that village, but I see you couldn’t avoid trouble. I meant what I said: her blood was sweet.” With lightning speed, the Vampire shadow walked across the room.

Atticus sprinted after him. “Coward!”

The ancient ceased running and turned on his heel. “Show your elder respect, you insolent fool.”

“What do they call you?”

The man pondered for a moment before answering. “I am Septimus.”

“I’m Atticus Rain, and I’ll be the one who takes your life.”

“Not today.”

The man shadow walked toward Krys, who had staked the other Vampire but was struggling to see in the darkness. Septimus briefly regarded his minion but didn’t look eager to pull out that stake since Krys was standing too close, so he climbed a ladder to the platform above the door. He pulled foam away from the wall, revealing an escape hatch.

Atticus stalked forward and roared, “Is your life more important than honor?”

Septimus gave a hollow laugh. “Do you think honor means anything to an ancient like me?”

“Then know this: If you run, I will burn down everything you own until your mouth is full of ashes. I will build a dungeon where you will suffer in untold ways, and I will remind you how you ran like a coward. If you have any younglings, they’ll curse your name for all eternity. Everything you’ve created, I will destroy.”

“What brings you here, Atticus Rain? Honor? Money? Another woman?” He stood quietly. “That’s it, isn’t it?” He belted out a sonorous laugh. “What desperate Vampire made you? I see nothing but a man grasping for his lost humanity. We are the devils of this world, you and I. The life takers.” Septimus tilted his head to the side. “You would spill the blood of your own kind… for what? A woman? Do you actually believe you’re capable of love? It’s an evolutionary flaw, and you know it.”

Atticus glared up at his nemesis, the hate of a thousand suns flowing in his veins. “If I am a demon in this world, I would gladly go to hell for love. You’ve spent lifetimes in search of what? Experiments? What child’s play do you entertain yourself with?”

“Child’s play?” Septimus gripped the metal railing and bared his fangs. “We own this world. Other Breeds are nothing but mutations. They stand in the way of us claiming what is rightfully ours. My work is important.”

“Torturing young women and men? Impregnating them? It sounds like you’re just playing God.”

“Perhaps I am a god.” Septimus stared hawkishly at him. “You wouldn’t believe the things I’ve uncovered, the impossibilities I’ve created.”

“For what purpose?”

“To destroy and rebuild. What else? Haven’t you learned from history that the one thing that can take down humans is a plague? Humans are frail, and I would never eliminate my blood supply. But surely you can conceive of a different type of plague among Breed.”

Immortals couldn’t catch diseases or viruses; their bodies wouldn’t accept it. Septimus must have been toying with genetics—searching for ways to disrupt the normal genes and introduce them into the population.

“Trial and error,” Septimus said. “Trial and error. You take those in the population who already have defects and see what happens when you mix them together. If only we had known about genetic manipulation in my time.”

Krys turned his gaze toward the Vampire’s voice. “What the hell are a few more defects in the world, dipshit? Who gives a fuck? They’ll have some defective kids and probably won’t find a mate. Same old story.”

Septimus canted his head, still looking at Atticus. “Not if you use their blood to infect the Breeds that procreate, and then we only have to contend with the Mage population. They’ll have no higher authority or other Breeds to protect them. Their Learners are weak in this new age. Creators no longer build armies. How long before they turn on themselves? Then Vampires can claim their rightful place in this world and rule them all.”

Krys snorted. “The guy who wants to rule the world is hauling ass because he’s scared to fight. I guess that’s why you need to get rid of us all—we can kick your ass.”

It was obvious that Krys wanted to instigate a fight to keep the Vampire from escaping, but he was putting his life on the line by taunting him. In total darkness, Septimus could kill him in seconds.

Atticus squared his shoulders. “I never believed in fate until now. If the fates brought us together, they’ll do it again. Before you run, ask yourself how you feel about leaving behind all your research that’s housed in this building.” Atticus spread his arms wide and gestured around him. “Am I to believe you keep all this valuable information on computers? A man of your age doesn’t trust technology. You have filing cabinets filled with paper because material things you can easily control. If you think we’re here to take pictures and leave, you’re wrong. Fight me now or fear my wrath.”

Septimus let go of the railing and stepped back. “I should have killed you that night, but I took pleasure in knowing you suffered.”

“As I will take pleasure in making you suffer.”