Then Eillia saw Ahmose, his jaw set, his eyes focused intently on the screen, every muscle in his body tightened in rage.

"Ahmose, who is she?"

He tore his eyes from the screen and looked into Eillia's. "She is a detective in Los Angeles."

"You know her?"

Claude laughed out loud until he felt strong fingers crushing his windpipe. Ahmose had moved to pull him off of the desk, and he hung suspended from his hand.

"Stop...or she dies," he managed to croak out through the compression that threatened to crush his vocal cords.

Eillia walked up to Ahmose, a hand on his arm. "Put him down, Ahmose. We need to hear what he has to say."

Ahmose held him still, his fingers flexing, the desire to snap his neck almost overwhelming. But then he looked back at Mal tied up and unconscious and he opened his hand. He threw the man up against the wall with force and stepped back.

"Thank you," Eillia said, and then turned to Claude.

"What are you doing? The same thing that you did with Tamesine that didn't work."

"Hostage," Claude finally managed to say. "Yeah. Like Tamesine. Only she gave up on hers. This guy, he knows her all right. If he wants to see her die, then go ahead, kill me."

Eillia turned back to Ahmose, and although she already knew the answer to her question, based on his body language, she asked anyway. "Does she mean something to you? We don't want anyone to die, but we can't let these men go either, Ahmose. They're just too dangerous."

Ahmose didn't speak, he just watched Mal. She wasn't moving at all. Had someone beaten her? Was she all right? Once again, he processed what Eillia had said to him and nodded. "She means something to me." He paused before he spoke again.

"I would have her live. Whatever I have to do, I need her to stay alive." He turned to Claude.

"What do you want?"

Claude picked himself up off the floor, rubbing his throat.

"Convert me. That's all. Just convert me, I don't give a f.u.c.k what happens to the lush over here."

Lamont had watched everything as it unfolded. "What? We're in this together, b.a.s.t.a.r.d."

"Not by a longshot. You're a waste of breath."

Lamont shot forward to grab Claude, and Xavier caught him almost in mid-air.

"Down, laddie," he said.

Ahmose turned on Claude.

"If she dies, you do, and painfully. I can compel you to find out where you hold her."

Claude laughed. "How stupid do you guys think I am? I did the same thing I did with your insane friend. Compulsion won't help because I don't know where she is. My a.s.sociate has been told not to reveal their whereabouts no matter what. You can kill me, and he'll just kill her. The only way out of this, is you," he pointed to Ahmose, "Convert me, and then I will arrange for her release. That's the deal. Take it, or let her go. I'll give you a moment."

Koen walked behind the desk and stared at Lamont.

"You're not part of the deal," he said. He looked at Claude. "So I can kill him?"

Claude waved an arm out to his side. "Be my guest."

Lamont realized his danger and, using the last of his stolen vampire powers to displace air, disappeared down the hallway, Koen and Xavier instantly on his trail.

"Well?"

Claude was pushing Ahmose, and Eillia could see that Ahmose was almost to a breaking point. This woman meant a great deal more to him than he allowed himself to admit. This might go very, very badly.

"We can't convert him," she said quietly.

Ahmose said nothing again then looked down into the pet.i.te woman's eyes. "I cannot let her die."

Suddenly, a thin wiry man pushed into the screen in front of Mal. Ahmose recognized him immediately as the man who had shot him at the beach house.

The thin man was very distraught and dropped onto his knees to hold Mal's unsupported head in his hands. He looked back at the screen.

"She's gone. Whoever you are, this beautiful woman is dead. I did it. I did it. I'm so sorry. It's my fault!"

He was crying openly now.

Eillia looked at Ahmose, still as stone, staring at the woman in the chair that he now realized would never move again.

His eyes shot to Claude, who had also disappeared. He scanned the area and blew out into the corridor, searching with desperation, rage, pain. No matter where he looked, he couldn't find him. He couldn't think...all he wanted to do was return to the office, to see Mal.

Mal was dead? That beautiful woman he had made love to and hadn't been able to forget...couldn't be gone.

Mother Earth, how could this happen? How could you let your children down so desperately?

It was a plea he'd used only one other time in all of his centuries, when Starla had chosen Jacob as her mate, when he thought he would never see his first blood children born, and when she died by Windari's hand.

Nothing had meant more to him than to bring his children into this world, but she had cried with him and told him that she loved another. All had worked out in the end, because of artificial insemination, and a loving relationship between himself, Starla, and Starla's mate, Jacob.

But this...this could never work out. If Mal was truly dead, then he would never see her again, never make love to her, never make her smile. Suddenly, the world seemed dimmer. His chest hurt so badly, all he wanted to do was roll up into a ball and never come out of it.

He felt Eillia's hand on his forearm, an attempt to calm him, but it didn't work this time.

"Ahmose, I'm so sorry, my friend. It is apparent you cared a great deal for this woman. Life's not fair, is it?"

"I have to go to her. Even if she is dead, I need to go to her. I have to know where she is."

"I'll see what I can find out, but, Ahmose, it's unlikely."

"I know. Anything you can do, I appreciate it. I'm going to look for that piece of sludge again, and if I find him, he'll tell me or I'll tear him apart."

Eillia knew that Claude was gone. He probably had a secret underground escape and was halfway to France by now. Once again, their attempt to stop these men met with failure. Next time, no matter what happened, when she saw them, she would slice their throats instantly, no questions asked, no games, no pleas, no delay. It was their humanity that kept making them fail. But not the next time, this she knew.

Shaking her head, Eillia didn't know what to do about this woman Ahmose wanted to get to. She had no idea how to locate her. Then it struck her, of course she did.

The man who'd taken her life, who was crying over her, who regretted his act. She hurried back into the office and pulled the video feed back up.

He was still there, on the floor at the woman's feet.

"Sir, please, will you tell me where you are?"

He looked up.

"Can you help her? I can't seem to help her. She's asking me and I can't help her."

Eillia sighed. The guy was coming apart.

"You're sure she's dead?"

Cheeto pulled the woman's shirt away to expose horrific holes torn through her body.

G.o.d, Eillia thought, she's definitely dead.

Behind her, Ahmose stood silently, his eyes locked on the image of the dead woman in the chair.

Cheeto nodded vehemently, and wiped his nose and eyes with his sleeve. "Yeah. I checked. A couple of times. I shot her, point blank, three times in the chest. She isn't breathing at all. I'm so sorry!"

He began to cry again.

"It's okay. At least now you are doing the right thing. Where are you?"

After a few gulps and wiping his eyes again, he lifted his head and faced the computer. He was trying to compose himself.

"Uh, we're, uh... It's the Motortime Motel off of the West Side Freeway north of Bakersfield. We're in room..." He stood up and looked at the door, then back into the camera. "Room 9. Please, could someone come and get her?"

"We will. Thank you. Can you do me a favor and stay there with her until we get there? We're in England and it will take a little while."

He nodded.

"All right. Thank you, uh, what is your name?"

"They call me Cheeto. It's my working name."

"Cheeto. Okay, we'll see you tomorrow, yeah?"

"Okay."

Well, then, at least Ahmose would get to say goodbye to her.

Koen and Xavier caught up with Lamont in a hidden pa.s.sage that led off into a deep bas.e.m.e.nt. This time, Koen had been ready, his eyes sharp for anything at all that might mean an escape route. He'd spied the thin slice in the wallboard that he knew might mean a door panel, and he'd been right. Using Xavier tactics, Koen crashed through the panel with no regard for damage, and the two vampires raced through the dark tunnel until they found the man they sought.

Although Lamont had been using his abilities, he wasn't a vampire and he wasn't first blood.

Now, with no weapons facing them, and no armies to attack them, the two powerful vampires stared at the man who thought he was G.o.d.

Lamont stood tall, pulling his soiled white jacket down. He was attempting a dignity that his situation did not support. His chin was high and eyes clear as he spoke.

"I suppose you think killing me will stop your persecution. It won't. There are many others who will come for you."

"Not the way you have. You've tortured and killed with no regard for life or the devastation you've caused. You gave up any right you had to remain breathing years ago. This is it, Lamont, the day you pay for your sins. I hate this, I really do, but right now I am going to have to be the animal you paint our people to be. Still, I'll be merciful, because that is really what we are, not the murderous creatures this society will never prove we are."

"You believe what isn't true. I've left my funds to someone who will finish my work. You won't see him coming."

"f.u.c.k this. I won't be tricked into letting you live. You're finished, Lamont."

"I will win in the end! I will! My family will never rest! Watch for Donovan! Donovan will succeed where I have failed!"

Koen shook his head. "I've had enough of this." He took the knife that his brother handed him, rolled his eyes, and plunged it into Lamont's throat. The shock on Lamont's face proved that he really hadn't thought he would die this night.

Lamont gurgled, and tried to stand, but he fell forward, then to the ground. The strangled sounds ended and the dark tunnel silenced.

Xavier toed Lamont's foot. "Should we behead him? For good measure, just in case?"

Koen didn't respond. He crouched to make sure Lamont was well and truly dead, aware that the vampire blood he'd imbibed in quant.i.ty had certainly changed part of his physical makeup. He stood back up and looked at Xavier.

"I think so. Do it, would you, brother?"

Xavier was accustomed to heinous tasks, as he'd been part of nearly every major war for many centuries.

"Aye, it's past time. Blood thief, I commit you to the afterlife, may yours be hot and dirty, with no cake at all."

Xavier lifted a sharp blade and brought it down to sever Lamont's head from his neck.

Koen looked at Xavier. "Cake?"

Xavier shrugged. "Who doesn't love cake?"

They walked away, winding their way slowly back through the tunnel, aware that a great victory had been achieved. Lamont, their biggest enemy, had died easily when the time came, with no loss of life, and no impact on the world at all.

"This is how little men die. He will leave no footprint on our world. He was irrelevant, in the end."

Koen watched Xavier as the path began to ascend.

"Aren't we all?" he answered.

Chapter 14.

Cheeto had untied the rope and laid the lovely dead woman on the bed in the dirty hotel room, pushing aside the remnants of the pizza he'd ordered for dinner.