Sunset Fallen: Book Two in the Dusk Queen Series Page 2

  A heavy door creaked open and then slammed closed. Erin was alone.

  The sudden change in circumstances sent her heart racing. How quickly she’d grown accustomed to Eloise driving them to the edge of the earth with random spurts of one-sided conversation. But now that part was over.

  Erin’s mind raced to guess what fresh hell awaited her. She thought of Lucía. Of her dad. Of anything that prevented her from breaking apart. She took comfort in the small stone dog in her pocket. The creature had been lovingly crafted as gift for Lucía hundreds of years before Erin was even born. It kept her tethered to the land of the living.

  “Oh man, did you pee your pants?” Eloise pulled the cargo doors open to find Erin’s jeans already drying. “You could have just asked for a restroom break.”

  Erin wondered if vampires could also suffer from insanity, or whether this one in particular was incapable of understanding that her broken jaw kept her from talking. Erin’s mind drifted away to what might have happened if she signaled her need for the bathroom. Was Eloise going to

  untie me? Would she have expected me to pop a squat in the woods while still hogtied? The thoughts kept her from uncontrolled hysteria.

  Petite Eloise plucked Erin out of the truck and threw her over her shoulder as if she were weightless. The pain from the new position was unbearable. Spots filled Erin’s vision like an Independence Day fireworks spectacular.

  “Gross,” Eloise turned her nose and keen sense of smell away from Erin.

  The sudden sunlight blinded Erin’s light-starved eyes. All that time in the blacked-out cargo hold had made her forget about daylight. Erin struggled hard against the pain in her eyeballs to glimpse her surroundings.

  She tried to perceive anything and everything she could. No buildings. No trees. Wait, three palm trees. Maybe more. No signs of civilization.

  Emptiness. Sand.

  The outside world disappeared just as soon as it arrived.

  “You’re back.” Erin heard a man’s voice say, devoid of affect.

  “Yeah, duh,” Eloise snapped.

  The pressure of Eloise’s boney shoulder digging into Erin’s abdomen, combined with the pain and car sickness, forced Erin to expel the limited contents of her stomach all over the back of Eloise’s black pants. The agony of her jaw opening threatened to send Erin back to unconsciousness.

  “Jesus!” Eloise squealed in disgust. “Really, Erin?” She griped like an older sister who’d discovered a mysterious stain on her favorite cardigan.

  “Just let me in already!” she demanded of the security Erin guessed was standing in her way.

  “Where are the others?” the man asked, apparently unmoved by Eloise’s commands or Erin’s vomit.

  “Dead.”

  “What is that?” he asked. Erin assumed she was the that.

  “The target. Obviously.” Erin could hear the tightness in Eloise’s jaw.

  She hadn’t expected the psychotically pleasant woman to lose her patience.

  Though she had to admit, a stranger’s vomit dripping into her shoes could unnerve anybody.

  “Why aren’t you dead?”

  “What?” Eloise asked in exasperation.

  “Everyone else is dead. Why aren’t you dead?” The man’s tone and straightforward style reminded Erin of Nicholas. She shut her eyes against the memory of the massive man who gave his life to protect hers. She concentrated on her physical pain to keep his final moments out of her mind. The guilt was too much to absorb.

  “Because I’m not stupid. And if you don’t let me in now, I will hang you by your entrails.” The threat was so unusual, and the image so strange, Erin nearly laughed despite the circumstances. I’m losing my fucking mind, she decided.

  “The Mistress has been waiting,” he explained, unshaken.

  “Then move.” Eloise wouldn’t allow him the last word. A loud beep preceded an even louder electric buzzing. The sounds were identical to the many jails Erin had visited when she first started posting bonds for the incarcerated. She focused all her attention on counting steps. She didn’t allow herself to think of what it meant to be behind so many electric gates.

  After nearly a dozen gates, she lost count.

  A damp smell filled Erin’s nostrils. She registered that they had been traveling down a steady decline. They were going underground.

  * * *

  The guard at the underground bunker’s first gate pulled a walkie talkie off his belt clip. “The target is inbound,” he reported flatly. “Send someone for the truck,” he added after glancing at the modified Humvee lodged in the sand a few meters from the camouflaged entrance. His eyes, with their superior vision cast toward the ground, missed the small black figure flying out of the back of the truck, its colorful beak leading it to the safety of the tallest and nearest palm tree.

  * * *

  Lucía’s swollen, irritated eyes stung in the low light of the windowless study. It had always been her favorite place, hidden behind a camouflaged door in the penthouse suite of her Manhattan hotel. But she no longer found solace in it, or any place, really. The blinding fear and dread never left her, no matter the scenery.

  The pristine journal, hundreds of years old, barely showed its age. Lucía closed it with a sigh before adding to a growing list of names for possible terrorist involvement. She was sure that whoever was acting against her must have a personal score to settle. This couldn’t be just some political play for power. The attacks were far too targeted at hurting her rather than simply winning public favor.

  Lucía’s cool fingertips eased the strain on her eyes as she pressed against them. Looking at the same records over and over felt so useless, yet she was sure the answer was in there, hidden amongst the meticulous records she had judiciously kept for centuries. Every violation of their societal code, every censure, every official act she’d ever taken since the vampires organized under her rule. The name of the person who was trying to destroy her, the vile creature that had killed so many innocents and stolen Erin, that name was hidden among the pages, mocking her.

  Tears stung bloodshot eyes before Lucía could get herself under control.

  Her thoughts rushed toward Erin, and panic rose in her throat like a sickness. She resisted the urge to tear at her clothes and scream into the night. No expression of grief would bring her closer to finding Erin.

  “Well shit, Lucy. I knew it was bad, but I didn’t think you’d be unraveling.” A tall, redheaded woman appeared in the doorway. Her lean body was clad in tight leather pants and a flowing white tunic top.

  “Alethia,” Lucía greeted as she got to her feet. “I didn’t expect you so soon,” she said, pushing away her pain. “Your attendant told me you were away on a job.”

  “Come on, Lucy, you know I’m always here for my Queen,” she purred.

  “When you call” –Alethia stalked across the room and around the heavy wooden desk— “I come,” she finished in a husky growl. Her body towered six inches over Lucía. “Now, what’s all this then?” she asked, studying Lucía’s face, her British accent warming her words.

  “I’m fine,” Lucía insisted, but the wave of emotion still threatened to drag her under.

  The softness of Alethia’s hand against her cheek was the unexpected kindness that could break the remainder of Lucía’s heart.

  “I know you better than that, Lucy. No need to put up the front with me,” she said with a soft smile.

  Lucía had no comeback. She was raw and weak and unprepared. The fracturing in the middle of her chest made it impossible to think.

  “Listen, love, we’ve been through a hell of a lot, and that’s not even including the French Revolution,” she said with a laugh, but Lucía could hardly make eye contact. “You know I love you. Even if you did break my heart all those years ago,” she joked with a wink.

  “I can’t—”

  “Don’t you dare finish that sentence,” Alethia threatened, her bright hazel eyes soft and her lips still arranged in a smile. “T
he woman I know can do absolutely anything. Your determination is actually quite terrifying.”

  Lucía’s back straightened and her honey eyes met Alethia’s gaze. For the first time in her second life, she felt closer to helpless than terrifying.

  She was lost, and there was no visible path through the haze.

  Alethia dropped her smile. “Lucy,” she said more seriously, worry bleeding through her playful expression. “Do you want to get to the bottom of all this shit?”

  Lucía shut her eyes as she nodded.

  “Then love, you need to get your shit together. Have a cry. Let it out.

  Then, pull yourself together, because you’re no good to yourself or anyone else like this, yeah? Self-pity or hand-wringing or whatever you think you’re doing isn’t going to accomplish fuck all except cost you precious time. Meanwhile, I don’t know if you know this, but it’s all going to hell out there. You need to get control of yourself, and then control of your people and the cluster that’s brewing.”

  Lucía took a deep breath. She knew the societal unrest was bad and getting worse. Alethia was no alarmist. If there was fear in Alethia’s voice, it was probably even more serious than Lucía realized. She was consumed with finding Erin, but that wasn’t the only problem on her hands. She’d been foolish to forget it.

  “When did you get so good at motivational speaking?” Lucía asked as she dropped into her chair.

  Alethia plopped herself on the desk. “Oh you know, I wasn’t just pissing about with the monks in Bhutan all those years. I did learn a thing or two.”

  She puffed out her chest with pride.

  Lucía quirked an eyebrow. “When were you in a monastery?” she asked quizzically. She had never known Alethia to be spiritual.

  “All right,” Alethia rolled her eyes. “It was a week in Bora Bora with a rather fine traveling companion, but the point should be well taken all the same. If you get lost in this despair, you’re dooming the rest of us right along with you. So, Your Majesty, snap the hell out if it and get to ruling.”

  * * *

  The sun set on the third day since the world tore a new hole through Lucía’s soul. She sat in the room she had only visited once before. The unpolished wood floors were made dull by a lining of settled dust. No staff kept it gleaming, even in its disuse. Erin had resolved to keep her apartment and was steadfast in her conviction it not be treated like one of Lucía’s fancy pads, as she called them. Lucía’s mind jumped back to the exaggerated

  flourish of Erin’s hand when she referred to Lucía’s many homes. She paid for the audacity of a smile with a sledgehammer to her heart.

  “We’ll live here?” Adrian asked from his place near the door. His tone revealed curiosity but did not convey an objection.

  “I don’t think I can secure it for you. Too many unknowns in this building.” Caridad threw in her two cents as she wiped down the Formica counter in the kitchen. Her mom genes rendered her unable to control the impulse to clean.

  “No,” Lucía responded sadly. “But I needed somewhere we’re sure not to be overheard.” Lucía hadn’t explained that she was also concerned about being bugged. There was a fine line between caution and paranoia.

  Charlie’s head popped out from behind the open refrigerator door holding a cold beer, the only thing to be pillaged. She tossed a bottle at Adrian without warning. He caught it in his meaty hand without hesitation and twisted the cap off the top without regard for its non-twist-off nature.

  “You are the only ones I can trust beyond any doubt,” Lucía stated boldly, her arm falling across Erin’s small dining table. She didn’t explain that their trustworthiness came at the expense of each having lost a person they held most dear. Together, they made a pathetic broken hearts club with a score to settle.

  They sat around Erin’s table, except Adrian, who kept his vigil at the front door.

  “What are we going to do?” Charlie asked after a long swig from the brown bottle.

  “We will find the terrorists. We will make them pay for what they’ve done.” Lucía gritted her teeth against the rage. “And we will get Erin back.”

  The woman’s name on Lucía’s lips sent a painful chill throughout her entire

  nervous system. She became suddenly and painfully aware that she didn’t even have a picture of them together. Her mind drifted away to the hope that someone else photographed them without her realizing it.

  “Do you think she’s. . .” Charlie’s voice trailed off, unable to finish the question.

  “She’s alive.” Cari chimed in with conviction.

  “How can you be so sure?” Charlie’s words were harsh and revealed the growing bitterness in her heart. “Did your coconuts tell you that?” she snapped uncharacteristically.

  “No,” Lucía said before Cari could respond. She held up her hand, signaling them to stop. Erin’s heavy gold watch, its hands still pointing at the hour of the attack, slid down her wrist. “This will not serve us.” She knew that the festering pain oozing out from Charlie was warping her usual manner. It was the same toxic cloud she was desperate to unleash herself.

  “It will do nothing but cost us precious time to go at each other’s throats.”

  She turned to the pained blue eyes holding back a cascade of tears. “Cari is no more responsible for your grandmother’s death than I am.” Lucía’s words were gentle but firm. The message was clear. There would be no infighting.

  “What’s our plan?” Adrian asked from the doorway. “For the payback part.” The vein on the side of his bald head beat with obvious anticipation to find the dead men who killed his twin brother.

  “As a first step, I will put an end to all the secrecy.” Lucía sat up straighter, the collar of her starched, black button-down shirt pressing against her neck. “I will make a public statement and disclose everything that has happened.”

  “Won’t that make us look weak?” Charlie asked from behind a furrowed brow. “What will people think if they realize you couldn’t keep a small group safe? That you ran off into hiding?” Charlie did not mention that Samael also made things messier when he ruled in her absence.

  “Perhaps,” Lucía admitted with a nod. “But secrecy and subterfuge has gained us nothing. How much more can we lose with honesty?”

  “What will you have me do?” Cari asked, the guilt in her heart still as open as the healing gash in her arm.

  “We’ll all call for reinforcements. Anyone that might help our cause.

  Nothing is as crucial to our stability and survival as finding this group.”

  “And who are you going to call, my Queen?” Charlie asked, guessing the answer.

  “Alethia has already arrived.”

  Charlie raised her eyebrows, desperate sadness taking a break from assailing her heart just for a moment. “Lesbians and their ex-girlfriends,”

  she muttered to herself in amusement.

  Chapter Three

  “Okay Chatty Kathy, here we go.” Eloise dumped Erin’s battered body onto an exam table after snapping off her restraints. The room looked like an ordinary doctor’s office. The clean white walls and all the expected medical accoutrement in the room concealed that they were actually in some underground prison.

  The blood flow slowly returned to Erin’s extremities. She shook out her hands to ease the sensation of a thousand pins stabbing her at once as she studied the bruised skin of her wrists where the plastic ligatures had cut into her flesh, leaving welts behind.

  “Ms. Lewis.”

  The female voice coming through the door, combined with the use of her last name, set Erin’s broken heart pounding. Lucía? Her mind knew the truth, but the recognition crushed her soul without regard for facts.

  “My name is Dr. Marks, but you can call me Robin.” The middle-aged woman took slow steps toward Erin as if trying to nab a feral cat. Her dark olive skin was vibrant against her all white scrubs covered in a white lab coat. “May I examine you?” Her voice was so soft it sent a new wave of t
error blazing through her body.

  Erin’s wide green eyes darted at Eloise. They were a silent scream that the doctor picked up loud and clear.

  The woman turned to the homicidal ginger. “Can you please leave us?”

  “No way, Doc. I can’t risk you here with her alone,” Eloise replied apologetically.

  Erin wondered what the hell kind of threat she could pose in her state.

  She had no feeling below the knee, and her hands hurt so bad she couldn’t make a fist if her life depended on it. Even if her body weren’t ravaged by pain, she couldn’t remember the last time she ate or drank anything. Erin was no threat. And even if she got out of this room, so what? She’d never make it any further.

  The doctor put her hand on Eloise’s arm. “Have you seen this girl?” Her tight smile oozed compassion. “I don’t think she can even walk. Now, I won’t inform the mistress about her appalling state if you allow me to examine her in private. You can stay right outside that door and keep your head attached to your neck.”

  Erin had never witnessed such a polite threat. She wasn’t sure whether to be impressed or terrified. She could read the worry in Eloise’s startled eyes as they darted between her and the doctor. Damn, it’s going to work.

  “I will be right outside, sweetheart,” Eloise said kindly, like a parent dropping a child off for the first day of kindergarten. “Just call me if you need me.” She stepped through the door, closing it behind her.

  “I’m sorry you were hurt.” The doctor’s face and voice softened further as she inspected Erin’s swollen purple face. “Can you open your mouth?”

  The question sent Erin into a panic. She shook her head and fought the urge to jump off the table.

  “Okay, okay.” Dr. Marks held up her hands to show Erin she wouldn’t force her. “I’ll need to x-ray it to see the extent of the damage, but that looks like it might be broken. If it isn’t too bad, we’ll wire your jaw shut

  while it heals.” The doctor looked regretful at the news. Erin had no way of asking what happened if it was too bad.