Page 105 of Dark Reign of Forever

“Nice ride,” Jackson said as he climbed in. The vehicle belonged to a local relative of a contact who owed Garrett a favor. For organizing the impossible in no time flat, Garrett was one resourceful son of a bitch.

“That he is,” Dominique agreed as he looked around.

The interior was spotless, if dated, and reeked of old dampness and fried onions. There was a bedroom sectioned off in the back, along with a small lavatory. The rest of the space contained two fold-out bunk beds, a common area with a sofa and a dinette booth, and a tiny kitchen of sorts. Several large duffels piled in the middle of it all.

The vampires staked out their spots as Garrett got them moving. Jackson settled in the copilot seat and fired up the GPS on his phone. “Looks like we could be there in a couple of hours.”

“Sun will be up in an hour,” Garrett said. “We’ll wait out the day somewhere off the beaten path and then head in just before dark. The fewer people see us there, the better.”

Things quieted down behind them by the time they left city limits. Jackson peered over his shoulder. Dominique sat in the booth, one leg drawn up, watching him and Garrett, and no doubt riffling through their heads at will. Isao and Makoto sat opposite him, hands joined on the table, absorbed in their own silent communication. Douglas and Kostya occupied opposite ends of the sofa, Douglas dealing a deck of cards between them.

The twins huddled on one of the fold-down bunks in the back. Lyle still murmured to his sister as her arms and legs twisted together in constant motion as though warding off an army of invisible ants. Her wide eyes stared from beneath her unkempt multi-colored hair and shimmered with barely contained panic. Jackson had never seen anyone look more terrified and lost.

They would all feel the sun coming by now. But instead of following their instinct to hide away in a dark, secure place, they would put their unconscious, vulnerable bodies into the hands of not just mortals, but accomplished vampire hunters. And they would do this at the request of their lord and master.

No wonder they were all busy distracting themselves. In their own way, every one of them must be as close to freaking out as the poor, unfiltered Carly.

He caught Dominique’s eye.We’ll keep you safe today. I won’t fail you.

The Lord of Night smiled. “I know,” he mouthed.

There are bags in the duffels. Maybe they’ll feel better if you hand them out.

The “bags” were body bags, which only upset Carly more until Douglas showed her that the material was light-tight and could not be torn by mere mortal strength. Just the same, she jammed her bagged self into the tiny shower stall. Lyle dutifully zipped himself up on the toilet beside her.

Fuck, Jackson thought. So much for enjoying the conveniences of home on the road.

Dominique, his own body bag tucked under his arm, shot him a look. “You can move them later,” he whispered.

You know I will.

The murmuring in the bathroom continued for several more minutes as the others settled into their chosen berths. Garrett pulled off the highway and followed the signs to a campground. They rolled through the quiet, predawn forest all the way to the back where it appeared nothing but bears and deer had set paw and hoof since fall.

The engine cut off, and a whimper issued from the bathroom. A few more rustles, a small gasp from a bag on the bunks, and finally silence.

Jackson and Garrett sat until the sun fell in brilliant shafts all around them. A breeze full of moss and wood rot swirled through the open windows. From an unseen nearby campsite, pots clanged and voices rose in greeting over the warbling birdsong.

So peaceful, this bucolic scene. So deadly to the oblivious souls behind them.

“What amazes me is that they let us do this,” Jackson said. “Knowing what they probably do about us.”

When his uncle said nothing, Jackson turned to see him looking out his side window, then raise a hand to rub at his eyes. Jackson frowned. This was the first he knew of Garrett being allergic to anything.

Garrett cleared his throat. “Yeah, well. What really amazes me is that I won’t kill them all. A year ago, I would have.”

“Even Dominique?”

“Even him.”

Jackson thought for a moment. “What changed?”

“I’m tired, kid. Old and tired.” He shrugged one shoulder and leveled an askance look at his nephew. “And I’m hungry. C’mon. The fridge is stocked. Let’s have something to eat and get some shut-eye while it’s quiet.”

“Yeah,” Jackson said thoughtfully as he watched his uncle go to pull a pan and utensils out of the cubbies. This couldn’t be the Striker Foundation’s most ruthless hunter in history going soft on vampires, could it? That would be unthinkable. Yet, the trust Dominique suddenly placed in Garrett was nothing short of unprecedented. Why?

“You just gonna sit there and let me do all the work around here?” Garrett groused, pulling Jackson out of his speculations. The fragrant smells of bacon and coffee began to overpower the whiff of old onion. “There’s a bathroom that needs clearing out before one of us needs to take a crap.”

Jackson got up and shook the questions out of his head. “Right. Where do you think we should put them?”

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