"Stirring," the older vampire said. Valentine exhaled, then took a deep breath. "Something." Then she seemed to shake off any semblance of worry, and smiled at Jebel. "While we're waiting for disaster to strike, you can fill us in on what we need to know."

"What the h.e.l.l do you think you're doing?" Ben demanded.

Reese ignored him, and continued unb.u.t.toning Clare's shirt. He had her stretched out on the low table, paralyzed, but her face was turned toward Ben.

Ben reached out to shake the cage, despite the agony. Clare's eyes were on him, full of terror and pleading, but she was completely in Reese's control. "You'll die if you hurt her," Ben promised.

Reese was going to die, Ben decided. No way did Ben want to take a person with so much magical power into the strigoi world.

Clare had warned him Reese was ambitious and no good. He'd known it, and was amused by the prospect of taming a tiger, just as he'd been tamed. But Ben knew he'd never been all that dangerous. He'd wanted simple power, money, dames, to build an empire, sure, but a business one.

"You want to rule the world, don't you?" he called to Reese.

At this question, Morgan Reese straightened up from looming over Clare and turned to face Ben. "I worshipped Satan as a teenager," he told Ben. "Took part in the black ma.s.s. We sacrificed chickens, dogs. We drank their blood. But the magic didn't work. It was stupid, humiliating. Turned me off to the idea of real magic. So I took up stage magic and was good at it. But real magic still drew me. Drew me here. To this place. Called me." Reese smiled in a way that Ben found sickening. "Now I realize that if I'd been the one performing the rituals back in my Satanist days, I'd have ruled the world long ago."

"Ruled the world?" Ben exploded. "Are you crazy? You think magic - Listen to me, you idiot. Charisma's the only kind of magic that works on most people. Ritual s.h.i.t hardly works on anybody."

Reese ignored him and turned back toward Clare. He flipped through pages in the notebook, then picked up the oven mitts.Fear twisted through Ben. "Don't do this," Ben pleaded. "It's not going to help you rule the world. It's not worth the effort. Magic doesn't work!"

"It works on you," Reese said without looking toward Ben.

"Yes, but - "

"It works on things. It binds the universe together."

"That's the Force, you idiot!"

"Same thing," Reese said.

He moved in front of the table, blocking Ben's view of Clare. He held his arms up and out to the sides and began to chant. The heavy gloves looked ludicrously out of place in a magical ritual. Ben grew dizzy as Reese continued to speak. He couldn't make out the words, but the sounds fell into his mind, almost glowed inside his head. The gathering power took his breath away. Energy swirled around the room, drawn toward Reese. Ben felt the rush of current like razor cuts sc.r.a.ping across his skin. Pain blinded him until the voice stopped, and the world and the magic were poised in the silence, waiting for what Reese would do next.

"No," Ben begged, knowing what must come now, even before it began.

Waves of heat shimmered up from the ruby. Fire glowed in its heart. Reese picked it up, very carefully. He moved quickly, smoke rising from the heat-resistant padding of the gloves. Ben caught a brief glimpse of Clare's face before Reese stood poised over her again. He saw her terror, and her tears, and the plea for help in her eyes.

"No," Ben said again. He shook the cage again, totally unaware of his own pain.

Clare had no voice to scream when the burning ruby touched her flesh. But Ben knew the instant her pain started, and screamed for her. He was exquisitely aware of Clare's agony, and the reek of charring flesh and burning blood. He knew when the stone burrowed into her chest cavity and first touched her heart. That was when Morgan Reese began chanting again.

Chapter 15.

"WHY DO YOU need my blood? Why do we have to go in there?" Duke was in there. Eddie didn't want to go anywhere near a p.i.s.sed-off Enforcer. Not even one who was tied down and drugged. Not even Duke.

n.o.body listened to him. One of the guards opened the heavy door. The other one pushed him in behind Martina, then followed after and made sure the door was closed and locked again. Eddie checked quickly for exits. Of course, the door was the only way in or out. d.a.m.n.

For some reason he'd expected to see Duke stretched out on an operating table, hooked up to all kinds of monitoring equipment, and with a bunch of mortal scientists poking and prodding at him. There were mortals in the room; they were even wearing white lab coats. There was monitoring equipment, and a metal table, but it was empty. Duke was in the room, all right, off in one corner, naked and looking like h.e.l.l. Eddie couldn't see anything high-tech about the way the Nighthawk was being restrained. There was a metal collar around Duke's neck. A heavy chain fastened the collar to the wall.

"The wall's reinforced, right?" Eddie asked nervously. "The chain's going to hold him?"

"Of course," Martina answered with blithe self-confidence. "Modern materials are wonderfully strong."

Eddie noticed the nervous glances the mortal slaves threw Duke's way as they went about their mistress's business. "You sure?"

Martina moved closer to Duke, taking Eddie with her. "Pitiful creature," she said happily.

The Enforcer's head came up slowly. His expression was full of pain, not exactly vacant, but not really aware, either. He snarled weakly, but without a hint of any sort of fang showing.

Eddie wanted to bolt, but since he was held fast by the stronger vampire, he indulged his curiosity instead. "What kind of drugs work on Nighthawks?"

"Potent ones," was the smug answer. "We're letting them wear off a bit now. There's an experiment to be performed that he needs to be awake for."

Eddie forgot about Duke's plight, and gulped. "You're not going to experiment on me, are you?"

"No." Martina smiled. "We aren't interested in monitoring your responses."

"You said you wanted my blood."

"My scientists want a blood sample from you." She took him over to a counter where a trio of mortals stood waiting. One of them held a large syringe.

Eddie experienced a type of fear he'd never known before at the sight of the sharp needle. "You're not going to stick me with that thing, are you?"

"You're a vampire, wraith," Martina reminded him. "You're used to fangs penetrating your skin."

"That's different. It is," he insisted at Martina's exasperated look. "Besides, a needle won't go through our skin." He took some hope from this.

Hope Martina immediately dashed. "This needle will."

"I don't want to," he declared. "It's not right. Not Lawful. Vampires only give blood when they're dating."

"This is for a good cause," Martina countered. "For science. We're gathering blood samples from as wide a range of vampires as we can. We're gathering data that will help our kind. Within a few years we hope to find cures for your light sensitivity, and the agoraphobia that plagues others of our kind. With scientific knowledge we can help ourselves."

Eddie was shocked to his core. "The Laws forbids experimentation. The Law - "

"That's what the Enforcers have taught us to believe. We've been lied to, kept in the dark ages. Enforcers must - "

"No!" Eddie held up a hand. "Don't start." He looked at the lab technician slave with the syringe. "I'd rather give a blood sample than listen to another rant."

Martina finally let him go, and the slave stepped forward. Eddie closed his eyes, and turned his head away. "Will it hurt?"

"Yes," the tech answered.

Eddie did not appreciate the honesty, but he stayed still rather than follow the urge to rip the slave's head off when the metal penetrated his skin.

After a few minutes, the tech said, "Done."

Eddie sighed with relief and opened his eyes. He looked at Martina, who stood there with her arms crossed, looking smugger than ever. "Can I go now?" he asked her."I'm sorry, wraith," she answered, though there was nothing but glee in her. "But letting you go would be a waste of resources."

Fear clutched in Eddie's gut as she looked back at Duke. "We've taken a lot of blood out of him," she said. She looked back at Eddie. "He's getting hungry."

Vampires sated their need for renewed energy by consuming mortals. Nighthawks built up their strength by taking the energy from vampires. It was a food chain thing.

"No. You can't do this!" Eddie backed away from the mortals, but was grabbed from behind by a couple of vampires. He struggled, and pleaded with Martina. "Please, don't. You can't do this to me!"

"I have to, wraith," she answered. "We need to record the physiological changes the abominations exhibit when they feed. We need that data, and I'm certainly not going to throw one of my people to that monster."

"You said you weren't going to experiment on me."

"We aren't," Martina answered. "No one's interested in the meat's opinion of being eaten. Rouse the abomination," she ordered her slaves. "Bring him," she ordered her vampires.

Eddie realized he wasn't going to be the main course immediately when his captors began to drag him toward the door. They were going to stash him somewhere, weren't they? Lock him up until feeding time? Good. Good. Maybe there was a chance he could Then a hot wind out of h.e.l.l blew through his brain. He dropped to the floor like a rock, and was vaguely aware of everyone else in the lab doing the same. He heard retching. Smelled vomit. A horrifying howl rose out of the corner where Duke was chained. Then the darkness came.

When the lights went out, Eddie prayed it was some kind of electrical problem. Panic rose instantly, worse than the fear of being eaten alive. Worse than the mental blow a moment before. His terror turned into a long, drawn-out scream. He hated and feared darkness like nothing else in the world.

Soon, he realized he wasn't the only one screaming. For some reason, not being in it alone helped bring him back from the edge.

Opening his eyes helped him remember what he was. He could see well in the dark, better than most vampires. Even a windowless room wasn't truly dark, especially where there were mortals to give off the faint glow of living energy. He, more than the normal vampires in the lab, could see a little. He didn't have to be a vampire to hear the bellowing of the enraged Enforcer, the rattle and rip of chains issuing from Duke's corner. There was no mind behind the monster screams, no intelligence, but rage and hunger howled in the dark. This was not good.

And no one, not even Martina, was stupid enough not to recognize the danger. "Sedate him!" she shouted out of the dark. "Get him under control. Get that collar back on him!"

"Get the lights back on!" someone else shouted.

"Get the h.e.l.l out of here," Eddie advised, and ran for the door.

With one glance back, Eddie saw that Duke wasn't the only strigoi that had gone into fang-and-muzzle hunter mode. His own jaw ached, hunting fangs trying to pop out, but he managed to get the urge under control. He had the feeling the ones who'd changed hadn't done so to protect themselves from the Hunter. There was some bad magic doing some genetic tinkering all on its own. He wondered how Martina would try to explain that, and sincerely hoped she'd get eaten in midexplanation.

He didn't look back again, but he heard the ominous snap and rattle as the chain separated from the wall. Duke was loose. A moment later someone screamed in agony. The smell of blood filled the air. Panicked mortals and vampires rushed behind him, b.u.mping into each other. There was swearing and screaming, and Martina shouted for calm and obedience.

The lights came back on as Eddie reached the door. He still didn't look back. He yanked the door open.There must have been a h.e.l.l of a lot of soundproofing in place, because the guard in the hall looked surprised at the sight of Eddie.

There was also blood coming out of the guard's ears, so maybe he'd had a really bad reaction to the energy surge.

Eddie didn't care. He was getting out of there right now. He only paused long enough to head-b.u.t.t the guard and grab the huge gun from him as people poured out the door behind him.

Eddie figured that with a crazed Nighthawk and a few hunting vampires on the loose, having any kind of weapon might come in handy.

"That's all very interesting, mortal," Geoff said when Haven was finished. "Where did you get your information? How do we know you're telling the truth?"

"I don't answer to you," Haven said.

They didn't like each other. Valentine could tell. The pair were standing toe to toe in the center of the crowded sidewalk, hostile energy crackling between them. The two males were very much alike, both good-looking, one in a rough way, the other Hollywood smooth. Geoff was a bit taller, Haven a bit more muscular. Both were obviously dangerous, and thoroughly alpha. The pair occupied an invisible energy bubble, people instinctively staying out of their way no matter how crowded the busy tourist area was.

"His name isn't 'mortal,'" Char said after drawn-out silence became too tense for her to bear. She'd been pacing nervously while the two males faced off. She confronted Geoff now. "His name is Jebel Haven, and he's on our side."

"Is he?" Geoff wondered, voice soft as velvet.

Valentine was aware of the ebb and flow of energy crackling between the trio. There was a great deal of soap opera potential to the situation, and Val didn't like it at all. She thought part of it might have to do with the general weirdness of the atmosphere. She chose to call it the Fraught Factor. Part of it... Well, she and Geoff would have to have a talk about birds, bees, and silver daggers that slid into your heart for making naughty moves on your sister some other time.

"Right now," she said, "the night isn't getting any younger, oh my children, and friends of the family." She gave a long look at the scrumptious Mr. Haven. "Right now we need a plan, not a rumble between the Jets and the Sharks."

"We?" Haven asked.

"Jets and Sharks?" Geoff asked, glancing at her over the top of his sungla.s.ses. "Rumble?"

"Drive-by, then," she amended, acceding to modern vernacular. "We still need a plan." Haven was frowning at her. "Yes, dear?"

"Who died and made you Fearless Leader?" he asked.

"A lot of people," she replied.

He smiled. "Thought so."

He was fearless himself. She found that very attractive.

Char put herself between Valentine and Haven. "Well, then," she demanded. "What do we do about Martina?"

"Hunt her down and kill her," Geoff suggested.

"Works for me," said Haven.

"There we are, then," Val said, with an offhand gesture. "Sounds like a plan.""But..." Char looked totally baffled. Apparently the young Enforcer expected something more along the lines of a formal debate.

Valentine put a comforting hand on Char's shoulder. "I bet you report to someone, don't you?"

"Yes. Istvan."

Valentine smiled with delight. "Really? He's such a nice boy. Tell him Val says h.e.l.lo."

"Istvan the dhamphir... a nice..." Char trailed off helplessly, and looked back at Haven. "He's..."

"The meanest mother in the valley," Haven supplied. "Or so I've heard it said," he added when Valentine and Char gave him questioning looks.

"Val," Geoff broke in sharply. "Could we get back on topic?"

"Martina hangs out at the Silk Road," Haven said. "Her nest run the place."

"Which means that marching into the hotel to tear out her heart might meet with some resistance," Char said.