“A lot of them went with Anthony, which means I can’t reach them either. And the rest won’t move without his say so. He’s totally fucked us!”
“Anything from Vincent?” Christian asked calmly, hoping it would rub off on Scoville.
“He’s coming, but he’ll take hours to get here. We’ll never last that long. I think this is it, man. Hubert’s on his way.”
“Why call me? We’re not exactly friends.”
“Because we need help, damn it. And there’s no one else to call. My people are dying, do you get that? And when we’re all dead, they’ll go right up the 35 to San Antonio. They’re like locusts. There’ll be no stopping them.”
Christian’s thoughts were racing. He knew Hubert’s creatures, and Scoville was right. They were an infestation that needed to be wiped out. And Hubert needed to be stopped before he could create more.
Scoville was right about Vincent, too. It would be hours before he rallied his people and got them on the scene. He and Marc were a lot closer, but there were only two of them. Granted, he could bring the kind of power that won battles, but could he trust this? He sure as hell didn’t trust Anthony, but Scoville had no reason to love his Sire. And there was no faking the screams or the sounds of battle he could hear over the vamp’s terrified breathing.
It was the screams that settled it for him. He wasn’t going to stand by while vampires died fighting for a territory that he would soon call his own. Vampires who would be his people, if they survived.
Fuck it.
All right,” he said, as though just deciding, although in his heart, he’d decided the moment he heard that first scream. “We’ll be there.”
Marc ducked into the room, yanking a heavy black turtleneck over his head to join the black combat pants he was already wearing. He sat on the bed to pull on his socks and boots. Christian stripped off the jeans and T-shirt he’d donned to greet Natalie earlier, then washed the blood from his already healing arm and started pulling on clothes more suitable for fighting fucking zombies.
“I’ve got a chopper on the way,” Marc said. “The flight time is longer, but they’ll pick us up at the local high school, five minutes from here, and drop us right at the location. Saves time overall.”
“I can’t leave Natalie alone here with Alon,” Christian said, sitting to put on socks and boots.
Marc stood. “Don’t even think about leaving me here to—” he started to say, but Christian interrupted him.
“Hell, no. I need you to keep anyone from stabbing me in the back while I’m fighting fucking zombies for them.” He stood and stomped his feet, settling into the boots.
“Alon’s out for the night, right?” Marc asked.
Christian nodded. “Until tomorrow night.”
“So we shut the vault, and lock the house down. Natalie’s smart. And after last night, she’ll stay put.”
Christian didn’t like it, but he didn’t see any alternative. There was no one he trusted enough to give them access to his lair, not even this temporary one. Besides Marc was right. Once he activated the house’s full security suite, no one was getting inside unless he wanted them to. “I don’t think we have a choice.”
“Right. You need help with the big guy there?”
“No, I’ve got this. I’ll be out soon, and I’ll talk to Natalie.”
NATALIE KNEW something had happened the minute she looked up from her computer to find Christian and Marc both storming into the kitchen dressed in black from head to toe like a couple of special ops guys from a summertime action flick. Her heart was doing its best to crack a few ribs as she slipped off the kitchen stool and met Christian’s somber gaze.
“What is it?” she asked him breathlessly.
“Hubert hit the border outpost south of Laredo,” he said briskly, striding past her to the alarm panel where he started punching buttons. Shutters she hadn’t noticed before began sliding down over all the windows, including the big sliding glass door. And these weren’t the fancy, decorative kind of shutters, either. They looked more like the heavy metal barriers that some people installed against hurricanes back home in Louisiana.
“What are you doing?” she asked in alarm.
“Activating a total lockout. Stay in the house and you’ll be fine.”
“Stay . . .” she repeated slowly. “Are you leaving? Where are you going?”
“Alon’s downstairs—”
“Stop!” she shouted. “I know where Alon is. Now, tell me what’s happening.”
Christian walked over and put his hands on her shoulders, squeezing lightly before moving his grip down to her arms. “Scoville called from Laredo. Hubert is on the move, and Anthony is MIA. Marc and I are flying down to help Scoville and his team hold the line until Vincent can get there with some serious fire power. You’ll remain here with Alon.”