He turned his head. “Damn it.” He looked at her again, indecision in his stance, written on his face.
“I’ve got this one,” she insisted. Without waiting for his response, she turned to meet her foe’s attack with a fist to his gut.
Tobias hesitated long enough to watch the vamp double over. Nix’s knife made two quick slashes and the vamp’s neck was sliced from ear to ear. She let him fall to the desert floor.
Tobias turned toward the two vamps coming at him, knowing the one she’d just dropped would be too busy bleeding out now to be any further threat. From the corner of his eye he saw Nix head toward MacMillan. Tobias was amazed that the detective was still standing, though he was bloody from being punched in the face. His vamp was toying with him, like a devil with a saint.
Nix would take care of that.
Tobias bent his knees in a fighter’s stance. “Just what game are you playing?” he asked, looking at the vampire on his left. He was small of stature and thin, stronger than he looked, even for a vamp. Dark hair and eyes, swarthy skin. A stranger to look at, but familiar to Tobias even with the new face and body.
Natchook slowed and stopped. He wore a satchel at his side, the strap crossed over his body. He kept one hand on the top of the bag. “The same game I’ve always played. Anarchy is the only effective law of the land. Lasting peace can only be achieved through chaos.” He shook his head, his lips curling into a sneer. “You never could see that though, could you, my friend?”
“We are not friends. We never were.” Tobias clenched his fists. He could hear the sounds of fighting from behind him and resisted the urge to look. To let himself be distracted at this moment could prove to be a fatal mistake. He had to trust Nix’s skills and ability to take care of herself. And now that she’d gone demon, he’d have to worry about her sanity.
God above, he hoped she could come back from this. If she went insane because of him and his obsession, if Natchook took away the one person on this planet who mattered the most to him…
Natchook clasped his hands behind his back. “You don’t understand. You never could.” He leaned forward slightly, the light of fanaticism brightening his eyes. “Sacrifices have to be made. Leader Vardan was one of many, with many more to come.”
“Like Braithwaite? And Dumond and Amarinda? Pickett?”
Natchook gave a slight incline of his head. “They all served their purpose in their own way. Amarinda was…collateral damage. She wasn’t involved, though I would have welcomed her to the cause. But she was getting too close and I am not about to let anyone ruin my plans. Not now.”
Tobias held back the relief he felt at hearing Rinda hadn’t been mixed up with this insane bastard.
Natchook went on. “And Braithwaite… Well, he was useful, since he was a member of the council. But his loyalty wavered. He outlived that usefulness.” He paused. “You’re on the list of sacrifices to be made. No surprise there, I think.”
On one hand it was gratifying to know he’d made that much of an impact on the other man, but on the other hand…not so great to be on someone’s hit list. “Yeah, I figured that out when you stopped and waited for me to catch up to you.” Tobias shifted his gaze to Natchook’s crony who was starting to inch his way to Tobias’s right. “Just what was at Braithwaite’s that you had to kill him for it?”
“What, you expect me to tell you all my plans?” Natchook rolled his eyes. “The villain spilling his guts only happens in the movies, my friend.” He lifted his chin. “Not that I’m admitting to being a villain. I do what’s necessary and nothing more.”
“Humor me.” Tobias crossed his arms, striving for an indifferent attitude toward the crony who was now behind him. In truth he was less concerned about an attack from the rear than he was with the bad guy leaving Nix and MacMillan alone. He needed to keep these two vampires’ focus on him.
Natchook reached into the pocket of his jacket and pulled out a black box roughly the size of a cell phone. It had several small dials and what looked to be a couple of retractable antennae. “Braithwaite was holding on to the research Amarinda had done on the rift and the schematics for this little thing, but we couldn’t find them at his house. He said he’d hidden them off-site and wouldn’t say where, even when I started skinning him.” His eyes reflected his enjoyment of the act. “But no matter. I have this”—he waggled the device—“and can reverse engineer another one.”
“That’s what you’re using to open a mini rift?” Tobias frowned. It seemed such a simplistic machine. And a hell of a lot smaller than he’d thought it would be.