A man in the front pointed to the mob in the image. "But those noms look like they want to be vampires."
Christian shrugged. "Recruiting noms for membership by any supernatural nation is forbidden, no matter how much the noms want in. Incidental exposure is technically allowed, but this, obviously, goes way beyond that."
"The vamps have always been the biggest abusers of the incidental exposure clause," someone near the front said.
"The Arcanes use it too," Christian replied. "Daemos are the ones who usually fight tooth and nail against these things because they can't turn anyone into one of them, unlike most other supers." He pinched two fingers together over the image, zooming out until the area outside the building could be seen. Cramped streets and crowded buildings surrounded it.
The engagement zone looked a lot tighter than what Elyssa usually faced in Atlanta, allowing ample opportunity for concealment. She noted six exits on the building, five sewage covers, and over a dozen possible staging areas for Templar forces to gain superior elevation.
"What's the target's traveling contingent?" she asked.
"His entourage consists of nearly thirty vampires, some with military training. All are less than a century old."
Elyssa had seen this sort of situation before and opened her mouth to tell Christian what he should do when a chiming noise dinged from the back of the room. She turned in time to see doors form in the wall. A man stepped through and hurried down the aisle to Christian. After a moment of consultation, the man nodded briskly and sped back out of the room.
A smile broke onto Christian's face. "It appears a high-value target on the Hot List has been reported in our territory. The window of opportunity to catch him is short. Prep for armed, rural engagement and meet on the air pad in fifteen. Dismissed!"
Beck groaned as Templars hurried out in orderly fashion.
"What's wrong?" Elyssa said.
"Nothing, if you like dodging a hail of bullets."
Bullets didn't worry her—the Nightingale armor would stop them. What did concern her was how quickly Christian switched from what appeared to be a high-priority mission to their new assignment. Templars didn't put just any old criminal on the Hot List without a really good reason. They also didn't just fly off on a new mission half-cocked. Whoever they were going after probably not only threatened the stability of the Conclave even more than Maximus, but was exceedingly dangerous.
And Elyssa had a really bad feeling about it.
Chapter 18
I must have passed out for a moment. Maybe longer, because I opened my eyes when someone slapped me.
I need a woman.
But how was I going to convince them to bring in a woman after Franco made it very clear there were to be no women in here?
It was all I could do to keep my eyes open. Dark spots crept along the edges of my vision. I had to do something. Anything. These guys were grade-A bullies if ever I'd seen one. They made Nathan Spelman look angelic. To get what I wanted, I had to be pathetic. Make them think they were crushing my spirit. I knew one thing guys would pounce on in a heartbeat.
"Mommy?" I said. "Was Mommy here?"
"No, young man," the doctor said, his voice full of pity. "That wasn't—"
"Mommy?" Diego said, sheer joy lighting his voice. He rattled off a sentence in Spanish. Jose roared with laughter and said something. Diego crouched next to me, putting his ugly little face right in mine. He reeked of beans and cigarette smoke. "You want your mommy? We get her. She kiss you all better."
"Please, I want my mommy," I wheezed in a harsh whisper. It wasn't hard to sound pathetic with morphine pumping through my battered body.
Diego laughed so hard, his face turned red and tears streamed down his face. He reached for his radio and barked something into it. The radio crackled with a response. "You promise to do everything I say if I bring your mommy?" he said, a cruel teasing edge to his voice.
"I promise," I croaked, moaning and fluttering my eyelids for effect. "Momma, bring me my snuggy blanket!"
"Good heavens, he's delirious," the doctor said. "I need to operate on this man and playing games with him isn't helping."
"You shut up!" Diego shouted. He knelt and gripped my face, his rough callused hands scratching my skin. "You do what you promise or Jose pound your balls to dust, amigo."
"Yes, yes, please," I said in a rasping desperate voice, not faking it at all. Consciousness was fading fast.
Someone pushed open the door and a woman appeared, her forehead furrowed in confusion. She made a querulous sound as though she couldn't believe they needed her.
Finally!
I extended a tendril of my essence and latched onto her deliciously shimmering halo as her footsteps tapped closer to the cell. It took every ounce of willpower not to suck her dry as fast as I could. Instead, I let the energy trickle in ever so slightly. The demonic hunger jerked and tugged like a newborn calf sucking desperately for milk and the faucet opened a bit wider.
"Mommy is here, gringo. She bring your blanket and teddy bear too." He and Jose snorted with laughter. Tears of mirth spilled down their cheeks. "Now, you do what Franco say, promise? Or we take Mommy away and shoot her."
Hate surged in me at his words.
I cracked open an eyelid. A grandmotherly woman hovered over me, worry adding more wrinkles to her forehead. She said something to the short guy, but he only yelled back at her. She cringed. I strained to control the flow of energy, but it slipped further and further from my grasp. The woman's eyes widened. Glazed. A deep sensual moan escaped her lips. Her tongue worked an erotic circuit around thin, cracked lips. She pressed both hands against ample hips, working up and down in slow rhythm with her moans.
Little Diego's thin face wrinkled into a perplexed expression. The doctor's mouth dropped open. I couldn't see that ball-sack, Jose, but I imagined he was just as puzzled. This probably wasn't the mother-son reunion they'd expected.
I felt the shards of agony in my ribs subside and the click of bones as they knitted and popped into place. The pulsating misery in my ragged throat eased to a euphoric numbness. Energy flooded my veins. The woman pressed her body against Diego, grabbing at his belt, desperately trying to tear his pants off. He resisted, but she was a swarthy woman and he was such a little man. Jose giggled hysterically, his voice high-pitched as a schoolboy on helium.
The doctor's astounded gaze shifted back to me and his eyes shot wide. "What the bloody hell?"
I smiled the most evil smile I could muster and climbed menacingly to my feet. Gripped the shackle on my leg and tore it off. Jose's eyes widened. He swung his arm at me. His fist smacked into my face and crunched like it'd hit a brick wall. He stared with disbelief at his broken hand and wailed.
My inner demon burst from its cage with a roar. I grabbed his throat. Slammed him against the wall so hard his eyes popped out of their sockets and bloody snot spurted from his nose.
Diego screamed. Demonic anger burned through my veins like lava. I jerked the little man from the lustful attentions of my stand-in mother and slung him down fifty feet of hallway so hard he cracked the cinderblocks at the far end. It took several seconds before his body peeled off the wall and slumped to the floor.
The doctor backed into my cell as I faced him. "Please, I'm as much a prisoner as you are. They force me to work here."
I cut the connection to the woman before I drained her essence dry. I caught her as she fainted away and settled her on the floor well away from the mess that had been Jose.
Resisting the urge to grab the doctor by his shirt, I asked, "Where am I?"
"Bloody hell." The doctor's fearful eyes moved to Jose's gruesomely disfigured face.
This time I grabbed his shirt. "I asked you a question."
Sweat dribbled down the man's pale face. "Y-y-you're on a cocaine plantation filled with mercenaries and enslaved locals."
I let go of him and left the cell. "I'm getting out of here."
He ran after me. "There must be over a hundred armed men out there. How the bloody hell are you going to get past them?"
I bared my teeth into a snarl and punched a hole in the concrete. A fine white dust drifted from the hole. "Do you really think guns will stop me?"
The doctor gulped. "Will you take me with you?"
I regarded him for a moment, wondering if he really was a prisoner, finally deciding it didn't matter. I needed help getting out of here. "Do you have a map or any idea where to go?"
"I know the perfect place. The leader of this god-forsaken hellhole has an airstrip less than a mile away. One of his courier jets is waiting there. I imagine someone of your abilities could persuade the pilot to ferry us out of here."
It sounded like a good plan.
Something outside popped, followed by a crackling noise like fireworks shooting off or the noisiest bowl of Rice Krispies ever. An explosion shook the ground and I knew something bigger than a kid with bottle rockets was wreaking havoc outside.
"Are explosions like that normal around here?"
The doctor's eyes grew wide with terror. "It sounds like a bloody turf war again."
"Turf war?"
"Rival cartels fight all the time, although I've never heard an explosion like that."
I walked to the steel door at the end of the hall and tugged on it. It latched from the other side. "Watch out," I said and slammed the bottom of my foot against it. With a metallic screech, the door flew free. A man's scream cut off abruptly the moment the steel clanged against something hard in the next room. A limp hand poking from behind the warped door dropped a blood-stained romance novel to the floor. The unfortunate guard had apparently been sitting in a chair opposite the door. A rifle leaned against the wall to the right of the squashed man. I picked it up and examined it for a moment before deciding my zero experience with guns would only lead to shooting myself in the foot. I offered it to the doctor.
He waved it away. "I don't think I could kill anyone."