We left the bar area and went to the back, through the kitchen area, where cooks were making up the batches of food preferred by the inebriated—everything fried. Finally we reached another door, and I knew this one led to his office. He opened the door, smiling, and made a sweeping gesture for us to go ahead of him.
We entered, and Ax followed, shutting the door behind him. The space was small, crammed with a desk, bookshelves, and file cabinets, so it took a few seconds to find an area to turn around in and face Ax.
By the time the three of us managed to turn around, Ax was in front of the door, the pump-action shotgun in his hands aimed at us. His expression was pleasant, but his gaze was as hard and cold as polished obsidian.
I nearly wet myself. I’d seen Ax in action, but had never been on the receiving end. He was a scary son of a bitch.
“You’re sure keeping strange company these days, Moira,” he said. He racked the shotgun. “You wanna explain what you’re doing with a couple of vamps?”
Chapter 25
“Put down your weapon,” ordered Shamhat. She let her fangs show, and her eyes went red. “Or I will rend your flesh from your bones.”
“Mother,” said Larsa, sounding pained.
“What? Rending flesh from bones was a very effective threat three-thousand years ago.” She frowned. “Although really not that easy to do.” Her eyes went back to their original color and her fangs receded. She crossed her arms and glared at Ax. “Hmph. He doesn’t scare me.”
I could tell that Larsa stopped short of rolling her eyes.
My gaze met Ax’s. “You know about vampires?”
“I know all about parakind.” The shotgun never wavered. “I used to hunt them.”
“Do you know Sam and Dean Winchester?” asked Shamhat. “They are hunters, too.”
Incredulity slid across Ax’s expression. “Is she serious?”
“She’s been asleep for a while, and has missed a lot,” I said. “She hasn’t quite grasped the concept of television shows.”
“Do you still hunt us?” asked Larsa.
“Not since I escaped ETAC,” he said.
“What’s an ETAC?” asked Shamhat. “Is it a car?”
“It’s a black ops government-funded organization that went off the rails,” said Ax.
Larsa flashed a grim smile. “You are one of their experiments.”
“Yeah,” he said, “so don’t think you can fuck with me.”
“Experiments?” I asked.
“ETAC liked to mess around with paranormal and human DNA. Sometimes they were successful . . . and most times they weren’t.”
“You are still just a human,” said Larsa. “Easily killed.”
“Not as easy as you think, sister.”
Okay, so Larsa and Ax were getting into a pissing contest, and I didn’t have time to mess around with who had the bigger set of balls. However, for the record, I suspected Larsa had the winning clangers. (Sorry, Ax.)
“Dove’s dying.”
“What?” He gaze swung toward me, and the gun trembled ever so slightly. His mouth pulled into a tight line. “One of these vamps hurt her?”
“No. Another one named Karn. He kidnapped me and Dove, and then we were rescued—” I eyed the shotgun. “It’s a long story. I’ll give you the short version, Ax, but I gotta ask you to trust me here.”
He studied our faces one more time, and then nodded. He lowered the shotgun, but didn’t put it down. “Tell me.”
• • •
We arrived in the same field we’d left from because that was the only other space Shamhat knew. How she and Amahté had managed to get us outside the pyramid without being able to visualize the location boggled my mind. We could’ve easily ended up inside a tree or, hell, on another planet.
Drake, Gabriel, and Braddock waited for us. Drake was dressed in black combat fatigues and loaded up with weapons. He tossed some gear at Larsa, who caught it and put on the weapons belt, then sheathed daggers into slots on the side of her boots.
“Braddock,” said Ax. He shook his former ETAC’s hand. “You put the word out about Broken Heart as a haven for former ETACers.”
“Yeah. Didn’t think you’d ever come through the doors, though,” said Braddock.
“I’d do anything for Moira and Dove. They’re kin.”
Braddock nodded, and the two moved away for a private convo. I was stunned by Ax’s assertion that Dove and I were his family. Now that I thought about it, we had been a family—an odd one, to be sure, but in this crowd, who’d notice?
“Moira.” Drake handed me a black duffel bag. “Clothing and weapons.” He pointed over my shoulder to a copse of trees. “More privacy there, if you need it.”