Shadows Strike(43)
The leader nodded to the soldiers. “If you don’t wish these men to know what you’ve been investigating—what we were investigating ourselves today—then tell them to get inside your vehicle and drive away. We will see that you return home or reach a destination of your choice safely once we’re done here.”
Tim, one of the soldiers, glanced at General Lane from the corner of his eye. “With all due respect, sir, we aren’t leaving you alone with these men.”
Wayne nodded. “If you want our silence, sir, you’ll have it, but we aren’t goin’ anywhere.”
The general nodded. If they ended up having to fight their way out of this, one or more of these men might be able to get Heather to safety.
“Very well,” the leader said.
“Who are you?” General Lane demanded.
“You may call me Seth,” he answered and addressed the group as a whole. “Approximately two and a half weeks ago, an American military base was attacked and destroyed. Everyone within it was slain save one man.”
Shock splashing across their features, the soldiers all looked to the general.
“It’s true,” he confirmed.
“What base?” Tim asked.
“That’s classified.”
“Who did it?” Wayne asked.
“We don’t know. The surveillance footage was damaged and the sole survivor has suffered some kind of mental breakdown.”
Seth glanced at Heather.
Heather swallowed. “Here’s the thing, Dad.” Shifting her weight from one foot to the other, she holstered her weapon. “I wanted to tell you this before, after I spoke with Nick.” She glanced at the soldiers. “Nick is the survivor.” Then she met his gaze once more. “But I couldn’t.”
“Tell me what?” the general prodded.
“Nick didn’t have a mental breakdown.”
General Lane frowned. “Of course he did. He thinks vampires attacked the base.”
Words of disbelief burst from the lips of the soldiers.
“He thinks vampires attacked the base,” Heather confirmed, “because vampires did attack the base.”
Oh shit. As her words sank in, the general wanted to cry and hit something all at the same time. What the hell did they do to my baby? he wondered, heartbroken that her mind had obviously—
“Don’t look like that!” she pleaded. “I’m not crazy, Dad. Vampires are real. They actually exist. Look, I’ll prove it.” She turned to face the one she called Ethan. “Smile.”
His eyebrows rose. “What?”
“Smile.” She poked him in the side.
He jerked and grinned, flashing straight, white teeth, when she hit a ticklish spot. “Stop that.”
“Now kiss me,” she ordered.
The general took a step toward her. “Heather . . .”
“Just give me a minute, Dad.” Rising onto her toes, she reached up, curled a hand around Ethan’s neck, and drew his head down.
Their lips met. Locked. Moved and parted as the kiss deepened.
Ethan slid an arm around her waist and urged her closer, kissing her in earnest until he appeared to forget the rest of them were there.
The leader and the quiet one with dreadlocks shared an exasperated look.
Heather broke the contact and dropped her heels to the ground. Turning to her father, she motioned to Ethan’s face. “There. You see?”
General Lane’s eyes fastened on Ethan and clung so long they began to burn with the need to blink.
Ethan’s eyes now glowed vibrant amber. Glowed, as though candlelight flickered behind his irises. And the teeth that had been so straight and perfect before now included long, sharp fangs.
“What . . . the fuck?” Tim muttered.
“Those can’t be real,” Wayne whispered.
“The fangs or the eyes?” Rick asked.
“The fangs.”
General Lane let their voices flow around him as he continued to stare.
“I’ve seen fake fangs that could retract before, but . . . those eyes,” Tim said.
“Contacts don’t do that, man,” Jess informed them. “My brother-in-law is an ophthalmologist and breaks out the novelty shit every Halloween. They don’t have anything close to that.”
“Heather,” the general said through stiff lips, “step away from him.”
Seth arched a brow. “I see we have your attention now. Thank you, Heather, for the demonstration. Although you could have just asked Ethan to flash his fangs.”
“Yes,” Ethan added with unconcealed glee, “thank you, Heather.”
Smiling for the first time, she drove an elbow back into his abs.
Ethan grunted and grinned.
Those fangs.
Burke, a soldier to General Lane’s left, drew his sidearm and fired.
Blood spurted from Ethan’s chest . . . so close to his heart.
Heather cried out and spun around to gape at the bloodstain on his shirt.
Ethan’s eyes flashed brighter as his face twisted with rage. His form blurred as he shot forward past Heather, so swiftly he reminded the general of the Flash. Burke’s gun flew into the night before he could get off another shot.
“Ethan!” Seth shouted.
When Ethan stilled, one of his hands was curled around Burke’s throat, holding him up in the air. He growled, the low, deep rumble of a lion, while the soldier kicked his feet and clawed at the hand that slowly choked the life out of him.
The other soldiers all scrambled back and drew their sidearms.
Seth made a motion with one hand.
The guns leapt from the soldiers’ hands and flew into the night.
“Ethan,” Seth repeated, “let him go.”
“He could’ve killed her,” Ethan snarled.
“But he didn’t,” Seth said, his voice soothing.
Heather took a step forward, her eyes on the spreading stain on the man’s shirt. “Ethan, are you okay?”
“Stay back,” he said, without taking his eyes from the man he throttled.
The one with the dreadlocks sighed. “Put him down, Ethan. This is counterproductive.”
Ethan yanked Burke closer until mere inches separated their faces. “If you ever endanger her life again by pulling some stupid shit like that, I will rip your fucking arms off and beat you to death with them.” He gave him a little shake. “And you know I’m strong enough to do it.”
Burke’s face mottled as his eyes twitched.
Ethan opened his fingers.
Burke dropped to the ground, landing flat on his back.
Heather darted forward, grabbed Ethan’s hand, and tugged him backward.
As Ethan backed away, he pointed to the downed soldier and locked his glowing amber eyes on the general. “You need to kick . . . his fucking . . . ass. He could’ve shot your daughter!”
Yes, he could’ve.
“If that bullet had hit an inch lower and an inch or two to the left,” Ethan continued to rage, “or if she had moved, it could’ve struck her in the head!”
The general felt his hands begin to shake at the knowledge.
It had been a close call. He intended to have a long, not-so-nice chat with Burke as soon as he figured out what the hell was going on.
Who was this man willing to kill another for endangering Heather’s life?
Who was this . . . vampire?
Once she maneuvered Ethan back in line with the others, Heather untucked Ethan’s T-shirt with shaking hands and drew it up almost to his chin.
This was so not going well.
The bullet had come damned close to piercing Ethan’s heart. Blood smeared his chest and washboard abs, but had already ceased to flow.
Heather turned him so she could get a look at his back. The exit hole was larger. Uglier. But began to shrink beneath her worried gaze. Ethan was at full strength. She had watched him sink his fangs into a bag of blood back at David’s place and siphon it directly into his veins. Ethan had actually asked her to watch, wanting her to know everything about his existence. The good, the bad, and the ugly, as he’d put it.
Heather turned him to face her again. She rested a hand beside the ugly wound and looked up at Ethan as it closed and began to form a scar that she knew would disappear once he had more blood or slept a healing sleep.
She hated that he had gotten hurt. Because of her.
Ethan lowered his chin and met her gaze. She hoped he could see how sorry she was for the pain and trouble she’d caused him. Hoped he’d see how much she hated seeing him come to harm. Hoped he’d see . . . everything.
The fury at last drained from his handsome features. His muscles relaxed. Smiling, he covered her hand with one of his. “I’m okay.”
She nodded. But she still blamed herself. They were doing this—risking harm and revealing their existence to someone they never otherwise would have—for her. To try to avoid causing her grief by having to hurt her father.
Who should probably see this, come to think of it.
Heather held up Ethan’s shirt and stepped to one side.
Gasps sounded.
Burke had been helped to his feet and now gaped at Ethan alongside the rest.
“That’s not possible,” Wayne whispered.
Heather recognized every man, had even chatted with a few at barbecues her father had hosted so she could read their minds and assure him he had these men’s absolute loyalty.
Drawing Ethan’s shirt down, she met her father’s gaze, silently pleading for him to believe them and, more importantly, to join them. “Vampires exist, Dad. Nick isn’t insane.”