Octavia's War Read online

  Ángel stepped back, frowning. “I don’t know why I did that,” he said, with an air of confession. “It was suddenly all I could think about.”

  Octavia kept her mouth shut again.

  The screams that split the silence made them both jump. They were coming from the front of the house.

  “Someone has found them,” Octavia said, her heart thundering. The arousal turned to acid mush in her veins.

  “We can’t be seen here,” Ángel said urgently. He grabbed her hand. “Come.” He turned and ran.

  Chapter Two

  Alexander saw the tall shadow on the other side of the courtyard, not quite hidden among the deeper shadows cast by the late moon. It was standing with non-human stillness, despite the human shape.

  The back of his neck prickled heavily.

  He put away the CIA wallet and nodded at the Federal Police Sub-officer. The man was completely out of his element here. A single cartel assassination was usually ignored. A dozen bodies torn to shreds and half-eaten couldn’t be explained and couldn’t be tucked away.

  No wonder everyone in Santa Maria had evacuated within hours of it happening. Fear drove most Mexicans into running, the ancient instincts forcing them into fleeing into the land.

  “Looks as though there’s a villager left after all,” he told the Sub-officer, Gonzales. “I’ll talk to him. You should call in your supervisors at the Policía Federal. They can help with this.”

  Gonzales nodded. “You’re not leaving, are you?” he asked anxiously.

  “Not right now,” Alexander assured him.

  He looked relieved.

  Alex moved over to the corner of the verandah where the shadow stood. “Remmy Dalton. I thought that was you. I didn’t know you were in Mexico.” He held out his hand.

  Remmy squeezed it. “I was here in my human capacity, until three days ago.” He rubbed the back of his neck, looking at the remains in the middle of the courtyard. “This is not a complication I was expecting.”

  “What happened three days ago?” Alex asked.

  “I was executed by Garcia’s people.” He shrugged. “The end of Bear Dawson. I was hiding out here to consider what to do next.”

  “You could always help me,” Alex said.

  “You’re chasing the Grimoré, still?”

  Alex didn’t let his body move or react in any way the Sub-officer would see. “What do you think did this?” he asked.

  “This was Grimoré?” Remmy was startled and Alex could see his pale eyes widen.

  “Who did you think did it?” Alex asked.

  “La Espada.” Remmy shrugged.

  “It’s been a long time since I was down this way,” Alex said apologetically.

  “Severo Garcia. Son of the head of the Garcia cartel.”

  Alex was surprised. “You think a human did this?”

  “I don’t think Severo Garcia has much that is human left in him. This sort of thing is just the next step up. He was going to turn me into fillets and leave me for the crows in the Rio Grande valley.”

  “Sounds as if he’s someone to avoid at all costs,” Alexander said. “I knew a few like him in San Diego.” He shifted on his feet. “Come with me. Help me hunt the vampeen down. They’ll be slow.” He grimaced. “They’ve just fed,” he explained.

  Remmy let out a deep breath. “I can’t,” he said apologetically. “What are you doing in Mexico, anyway, Alex? I thought you were in New York, hiding away from everyone you knew.”

  “I was.” Alex shrugged. “How much do you know about the Grimoré?”

  “My clan passed on all the data. The threesomes forming to fight them…that sounds like a stretch to me.”

  “It’s all true,” Alex said flatly.

  Remmy’s grin faded. “You’re mixed up in that?”

  “I am.” Alex took the wide-brimmed hat off and fanned his face with it. It was three in the morning, yet still warm despite being December. The air was still and thick in this walled courtyard and the stench would be overwhelming if he let himself think about it.

  No wonder the Sub-officer had looked so bewildered.

  Alex considered Remmy. “There are more trinities forming,” he said. “Each of us who is already in one is finding secondary trinities. Basic mathematical progression,” he added.

  “Right. I forgot about that math freak thing of yours,” Remmy said. “You’re here to create a second trinity?”

  “I don’t create it. It forms by itself. I just have to find it…and before the Grimoré do.”

  “Guess they don’t like the idea of threesomes ganging up on them,” Remmy said, smiling. From his expression, Alex could tell he still thought the trinities were a cute excuse for adventurous sex.

  “You don’t understand,” Alex said heavily. “Before the trinity forms, it’s just three people. Not even people. We’ve got vampires, humans, hunters, a succubus, even a ghost. There are all sorts make up the trinities. They’re nothing before the trinity bonds. After it bonds, though, the trinity is so powerful it can hold back a small army of the fuckers that did this.”

  Remmy looked over Alex’s shoulder. He didn’t have to stretch to do it, because he was almost the same height as Alex. His gaze settled back on Alex. “Everyone is stronger?”

  “And linked, mentally and physically.” Alex shrugged. “You’re not going to properly understand this unless you’re in one. You can still help, though. We need all the help we can get.”

  “You’re losing,” Remmy said flatly.

  “We’re at the turn of the tide,” Alex shot back. “The next few weeks will settle things. We’d like to make sure they get settled the right way.”

  “So if you don’t form the trinity, if it just forms all by its lonesome, then why did you come down here?”

  “To help the new trinity protect itself. It will be linked to me,” Alex said. “Until the trinity is sealed, the three will be exposed, vulnerable and hunted.”

  “By the things that did that?” Remmy didn’t indicate the mess behind Alex, either.

  “That’s right.”

  “They came for this trinity?”

  “I was pulled here. They were, too.” Alex held out his hand. “Help me find them.”

  Remmy shook his head. “I’ve got something to do.”

  “You’re dead. What else is there for you to do except find your next life?” Alex said harshly. “Help us fight the Grimoré, then you can figure out what you’re going to do.”

  Remmy looked regretful. “It sounds like fun,” he said. “These Grimoré of yours are a nasty threat and not just to you. I can see that. Only there’s someone I left in Garcia’s household. I have to get her out.”

  “You wouldn’t be able to do that if you were human, because you’d be rotting by now,” Alex pointed out.

  “Normally, I wouldn’t try to reach back,” Remmy said. “Octavia is a fully capable field agent and can get herself out of trouble, if the trouble is the ordinary kind. If these things are moving across the state, though, she has no idea what is coming down on her. I owe it to her to at least warn her.”

  Alex considered him. “Is Octavia someone special, Remmy?” he asked.

  Remmy’s lips parted in surprise. “No,” he said flatly. Almost angrily. “It’s not like that. Not at all.”

  Alex held up his hand. Peace. “Okay. Warn your lady friend. Then come and help me.”

  Remmy drew in a breath. “I’ll consider it, once I know Octavia’s situation. Could be I might have to make arrangements to have her pulled out. She’s cozy with the fucker I thought did this.”

  “La Espada?” Alex asked, startled.

  “Not her choice,” Remmy said shortly. “Severo took a shine to her. Any man with a pulse would and he’s more ornery than most. Wants what he wants. Daddy’s favorite and all that jazz.” He shrugged.

  “You don’t have to explain it to me,” Alex said truthfully. He understood the patriarchal hierarchy better than many white men. It had gotten him
killed in the first place and had delivered Mia to him, in the second.

  Then, finally, the disparate facts connected up in his mind with an almost audible click. Remmy, a vampire, here in a tiny village in northern Mexico, where vampires were very thin upon the ground. A village the vampeen had arrowed in upon.

  “Oh Jesus Christ on a pony,” Alex breathed. “Remmy, I think you’re one of the trinity.”

  Remmy grew still once more. Alex could see him turning it over in his mind, considering every angle. Remmy had always been good at strategizing.

  Then he shook his head again, his wheat-blond hair gleaming in the fitful moonlight. “Doesn’t matter. Not right now. I’ve got something to do.”

  “You don’t understand. These vampeen are going to hunt you across the landscape. They know they have to get you before you find the other two, whoever they are.”

  “This would be the same landscape that Octavia is standing on?” Remmy shot back. “Save it, Alexander. I’m going to see her safe, first. Then we can talk about your trinities.”

  Alex didn’t push the matter. He had known Remmy in San Diego, when the gang had been breathing down his neck. He had known him to be a ruthless man, with no patience for idiots. A man who had hewn his own path. Alex had respected him and kept his distance.

  After he had been turned, Remmy had found him in New York and had debriefed him to exhume every last detail about the gang that Alex could possibly remember, for Remmy to use against them. When Alex had realized that Remmy was a lawman and had been his entire life, stretching back to the very early eighteenth century, then he had been more than willing to help Remmy disassemble the gang.

  Even though Remmy had never reported back, Alex had heard that the gang who had killed him had mysteriously disappeared.

  That was the last time he had heard from Remmy or had heard about him, either. He had assumed that whatever the older vampire was doing, it would be on the right side of the law. Moral correctness was built into Remmy’s bones. It wasn’t a great surprise that Remmy was down here, sorting out the cartels.

  If he wanted to go chasing off after his lady friend, Alex wasn’t going to stop him. He didn’t have to. The Trinities had their own ways of sorting things out. They used the power of the thing that Beth had started calling Terra and sometimes Gaia. The power of the world.

  So Alex nodded. “Fine. Go sort it out,” he told Remmy. “You can track me down once you’re done.”

  Remmy looked at him suspiciously. “No argument? You always ran at the tongue a mile faster than anyone I knew.”

  “I’ve learned a thing or two since then,” Alex assured him.

  “And what are you going to do while I’m gone?” Remmy asked. His suspicions were still high.

  “I’m going to round up the locals, wherever they are out there, then find them a safe place and seal them in. That will force the vampeen to find something else.” It was the truth, just not all of it. Alex gave Remmy a sincere smile.

  “Very considerate of you,” Remmy said dryly. He backed up a step, blending back into the shadows. “Don’t even think of following me,” he added.

  “I’m not,” Alex said, glad he could be truthful about that. He didn’t have to follow him. The compulsion that had brought Alex to Mexico would tell him where to go next. It was also guiding Remmy, even though he didn’t know it.

  Time to let the bonding do its magical and powerful work.

  * * * * *

  The open-topped jeep that Ángel drove was a battered vehicle with a powerful engine and good tires. Octavia gripped the roll bars and hung on as Ángel drove it over the stony ground. In the still night, the engine seemed to roar, making her wince. From how far away could it be heard? Were they drawing attention?

  They weren’t alone in the night, that was for sure. Whoever had done the screaming had woken up the entire town. In the magical way that word of mouth worked, the news about the slaughter spread. Soon, there was a heavy line of people hurrying out of Manuel Benavides, heading for the rocky hills and bluffs of the Santa Elena Park. Out here, it was easy to get so lost that no one would find them. The townsfolk all knew the land well for a few miles beyond the town. They could find a place to hunker down and wait out the danger they knew in their bones was coming.

  When Ángel had driven the jeep two miles out of town along the dusty road the townspeople were using, he’d pulled it off the road and headed into the wilderness. Their speed had dropped down to a crawl. He used the low gears to climb in and out of gullies and over stones and hillocks.

  He seemed to know where he was going, so Octavia instead considered what lay behind them as she looked around the stark, dry and beautiful country. The high bluffs ahead were coated with snow at the top. The snow was glowing in the moonlight and she could almost smell the crisp coolness of it, even though down here on the valley floor it was a mild night.

  Would Severo come after them? Would he be able to track them? He was not a hunter…at least, not of game out in the wild. Only, the big treads of the tires would leave distinct tracks that would be easy to trace in this dusty and sandy country.

  “We should get rid of the jeep,” she said.

  “And fly there?” Ángel asked, sounding amused.

  “Walk. At night. It’ll take us a couple of nights, but it’s easier to hide out here without a bright blue vehicle flagging where we are.”

  Ángel fought the wheel as the jeep climbed over a big stone and jigged sideways. Octavia clung to the bars as the jeep tried to shake her out of her seat.

  “We’d probably make better time, too,” she observed.

  He tapped the dashboard in front of him. “Nearly out of gas,” he said. “We should drive while we can, then walk.”

  “You were planning on walking, all along.”

  He nodded.

  “Hey, you know, if you want my help getting over the border, you need to start talking to me.”

  He seemed amused. “Your help?”

  “Do you even know how to make a fire without matches?” she asked.

  “Where do you plan to find the firewood around here?” he shot back, his amusement out in the open now.

  That shut her up. There was nothing around here but sage bushes, dried out clumps of grasses and stones. Lots of stones.

  “If we see a tree, we should take wood with us for later.” She had to lift her voice over the sound of the engine. “It will get cold, higher up.”

  “A blanket would be better,” he shot back.

  Octavia closed her mouth and hung on.

  * * * * *

  The jeep ran out of gas three hard miles later. The low gear work and climbing up and down every single little fold in the land, with the engine snarling, had used up the same amount of gas a hundred miles on open highway would have used.

  The engine quit with a sigh and the silence of the land dropped down around them like a soft blanket.

  Ángel got out of the jeep with a single step of his long legs, ducking under the roll bar with an easy movement. He walked around to the back of the jeep and hauled a heavy metal toolkit closer.

  Octavia peered in hopefully as he opened it. “They’re just tools,” she said, disappointed.

  “What were you hoping for? Another knife?”

  “An Uzi would be nice.”

  He rolled his eyes. Then he picked up a big wrench and held it out to her. “Here. Hit someone with that hard enough and they’ll go down.”

  She hefted it. “Can I try it on you?”

  Ángel ignored her. He rummaged through the toolbox instead and pocketed small items. He was wearing a thick cotton jacket with big pockets that would carry a lot. Octavia, on the other hand, was wearing what she thought of as her “Severo’s whore” clothes—a lacey bra and sheer tank top, lots of jewelry, tight jeans and boots with heels. She was lucky they were western heels, not stilettos. Walking would be bad enough even so. She would give anything for a pair of hiking boots with thick treads and heavy toes.
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br />   It was no wonder Ángel was ignoring her. She was the mistress of his brother, the man trying to kill both of them. It was a completely understandable attitude, yet it still irritated her.

  She pushed at his arm, turning him so he was looking at her. He looked startled.

  “I’m not some whore you can just shove around when you want and ignore the rest of the time,” she said.

  His gaze flickered over her, from head to foot.

  “I know what I’m wearing,” she snapped. “Don’t look at that. Listen to what I said.”

  “It’s hard to not look,” he said calmly, “although if you think I don’t listen to what you say, you’re wrong.” He went back to the toolbox.

  “Ángel.” She said it impatiently.

  He spun to face her again, only this time, he grabbed her and pushed her up against the back of the jeep, so that the small of her back was pinned against the metal. For a moment, he studied her, then he kissed her again.

  The whoosh of feeling, this time, was like a hot jolt of electricity. It tore through her and she moaned into his mouth. She had never felt this heat before. Not even when she was in bed with someone she wanted to be with. It seemed to burn up through her body from her toes, igniting everything. Her body throbbed with need and for a moment she could think of nothing except to get as much of him as she could.

  Ángel let her go and almost staggered back a step.

  Octavia pressed the back of her hand against her mouth. “Jesus!” she whispered. “I want to fuck you so badly…and you’re not my type. What the hell is going on?”

  “I don’t know. I prefer my women to be feminine and biddable…and blonde.”

  She cleared her throat. “Glad we got that sorted out. So tell me why I can’t stop thinking of kissing you again?”

  He swallowed. She could see his throat working in the moonlight. His black eyes gave away nothing. She hoped he could read just as little from her own face.

  “We can’t afford to do this,” he ground out. “Getting distracted will get us killed.”

  Octavia nodded. “You’re right.”

  “Finally, she sees sense,” he muttered. He pointed toward the big bluff ahead of them. “On the other side of that bluff is a farmhouse. I know the owner. We can get supplies. A blanket.” A smile touched the corner of his mouth. “Some firewood,” he added. “Maybe even a lighter to go with it.”