Chapter Forty-Three

Topside, 8:17 p.m.

"Please, don't do this," Marissabegged, gripping the edge of the limousine's leather seat.

Her captor didn't get a chance to respond.

They appeared suddenly, dropping from the tops of the tall buildings with cat-like stealth, landing silently in the alley on widespread legs. Motionless as shadowed night, they stood just beyond the beam of the limousine's headlights, three sets of massive shoulders silhouetted against a single streetlamp further down the alleyway.

A primordial hush descended with them; traffic noises faded to an indiscriminate, rambling hum, and the night watch at the nearby 32nd Street Naval shipyard stopped their shouting and hammering. Off to the right, a manhole cover belched out a steady boil of steam, wispy fingers that wended around their legs and trailed up their bodies like a ghost's caress.

"My, how atmospheric," Raymond Parthen commented glibly from where he sat watching through the window of his plush limousine. "For all their shortcomings, the Varcolac certainly know how to make an entrance." He pulled on one leather glove, then another, the set a perfect match for his camel-hair coat. "Good call on your friend, my dear. The lawyer obviously passed on the particulars of this rendezvous as was required." He glanced across at Murk and Videon. "Gird your loins, lads, it's time to negotiate—do not shoot anyone."

The Topside Om R?u called Teer—Gangrene Face—stayed behind the wheel of the limousine, a pistol on the seat beside him, while Murk and Videon climbed out and positioned themselves on either side of the car, both armed with nasty-looking black rifles.

With a debonair smile, Raymond offered Marissa a gloved hand. "Shall we?"

A shiver flitted up Marissa's spine. She made no move to take Raymond's hand. The moment she stepped out of this limo, Dev's life would be in danger. Raymond had no intention of negotiating. He was going to threaten the Varcolac, and use her to do it, which meant Dev was going to go bananas, and that would probably get him killed. "Please, don't do this," she said again.

"Ever so sorry, my dear." Raymond thrust open the limo door. "I must have Toni returned to me, and you're my trump card for achieving that end."

She shrank back against the seat when he reached for her. "You don't even know if Toni can be useful to you," she argued. "You're hurting people for no good reason."

His smile returned, frightening and chilling. "Perhaps I would like to be reunited with my long-lost daughter. Anto?netta has acquired some…interesting powers which require discussion." He took Marissa by the arm and pulled her out onto the street next to him.

The moment her shoes touched the asphalt, tension heightened at the other end of the alley. Dev was the man furthest on the right. She recognized the shape of his silhouette, even though his body was shimmering closer to disappearing than the others, making it difficult for her to catch his eye to—to what? Silently beg him to stay calm when she knew that would be impossible in the face of what Raymond Parthen was about to do?

Videon hocked back and spit in the direction of the three Varcolac.

No one at the far end of the alley moved, all three figures remaining inhumanly motionless.

Her stomach lurched. Maybe she'd go ahead and barf her guts out now that she wasn't in the limo anymore, where puking probably wouldn't have been appreciated by her refined, yet ruthless, captor.

"Let's crack on with matters, lads," Raymond said. "Is Toni's grotesque among you?"

Jacken stepped into the white wedge of headlights cast by the limo, his upper lip curled into a sneer. "Here."

"Ah, yes, there you are, old tosser." Raymond ran his gaze over Jacken and tutted. "Sixpence short of a shilling Toni was, I say, to have chosen you for her husband. I still can't fathom it. But that's neither here nor there. Right, then. There's to be an exchange, Varcolac. A simple enough construct even for a man of your suspect intellectual capabilities."

Jacken's sneer deepened, showing a glimpse of a fang. "Have I mentioned that Toni and I won't be visiting for Christmas, Dad?"

Raymond's lids hooded. "We shall meet here tomorrow at the same time, at which point I'll trade this lovely lady in my possession for Toni. Understood?"

Jacken didn't answer, his eyes drilling into Toni's father. He never once glanced at Marissa.

Raymond paused, pretending to ruminate. "Now hold a moment…since we're considering this exchange nonsense anyway, let's just make this a two-for-two trade, shall we?"

Oh, God, here it comes. He's actually going to do this. Marissa closed her eyes, the muscles along her throat growing taut as she wished herself anywhere but here. If only she'd made a different decision at any point along the way during the last eleven hours, she wouldn't be in this pickle.

If only she hadn't gotten into a huff about Natalie teaching the chef seminar and left the hotel.

If only she hadn't called Candace while Detectives Waterson and Ramirez were at the morgue investigating her death. The Traveler's cell phone had been nestled among her personal effects and the police had naturally run the incoming phone number. As soon as the name Marissa Bonaventure had popped up, they'd come for her.

If only Marissa hadn't called Kimberly to get her released from the police station. The skilled lawyer had managed it, of course; Marissa had only been brought in for "questioning." But not before Marissa's name had been inputted into the SDPD system. Who knew that the Topside Om R?u had planted alerts in police computers, not just at hospitals? The Varcolac hadn't. She and Kimberly made it only two unconcerned blocks from the police station before they were nabbed by Raymond and his minions. Oh, and such a lovely trip down memory lane these last eleven hours had been, getting kidnapped again and hanging out with all of her old Topside Om R?u chums.

If onlyshe'd never left Dev in the first place, but remained at home, in his arms and his bed.

"Tomorrow," Raymond continued in an acid tone, "you'll bring Toni and my son, Alex, and we'll exchange those two for this one"—he pointed at Marissa—"and…" He shifted his finger down to point at her belly, "that one."

Marissa steeled herself for Dev's reaction, the breath backing up in her lungs. But…

There was only silence.

A breeze twisted the smoky steam dancing around the booted feet of the Varcolac into mini dervishes. Coat hems lifted and tendrils of hair stirred. Several brown autumn leaves skipped across the alley with a brittle rattle. Otherwise, nothing.

Raymond sighed, long-winded and full of exasperation. "You Varcolac genuinely are a group of bumbling Monty Pythons, aren't you? You can't see how this could come about?" He adjusted the cuff of one of his expensive gloves. "I most certainly do. You see, my dear chaps, I've been learning all manner of fascinating tidbits about your breed from the Om R?u mother of my children, Yavell. Apparently, when a Varcolac's mate goes into estrus, the bloke scents it on her and goes a bit barmy, doing the business with her constantly till she's well and truly in a family way. This leave little room for happy surprises, so I imagine you gents think I'm lying." His voice slid into dark and silky realms. "Ah, but mistakes do happen, even in your world. Just to entertain ourselves, let's pretend this lovely lady's husband had relations with her right before she barred herself away from his unromantic attentions. She proceeds to ovulate while his giddy swimmers are still loitering about, and voilà!"

Out of the blackened shadows of the alley, a fiery light sparked.

Dev's eyes.

Bile crawled up the back of Marissa's throat. No, Dev, just keep thinking he's lying.

"Still nothing from you fellows? Very well." Raymond pulled out a hypodermic needle from his coat pocket and popped the plastic cap off with his thumb. "If I'm lying then this abortifacient won't have any effect on the lady whatsoever." He rammed the needle into Marissa's arm.

She screamed.

A hair-raising howl tore out of Dev as he came flying down the length of the alley in one huge leap, trench coat flaring wide, legs cycling the air.

Cursing and shouting, Murk and Videon yanked up their rifles and stumbled backward.

Dev landed hard several feet away, his eyes white lightning, twin killing fangs thrusting down from his upper jaw.

Raymond tensed, and a hot pulse of electricity ripped painfully through Marissa's body.

"Stop!" she yelled at her husband. "Dev, please, don't do anything. I am pregnant, it's true. Mr. Parthen made me take a test to—"

Dev took a threatening step forward, air hissing viciously between teeth and fangs.

"Devid, no!" Tears began to fall down her face. God help her, Raymond's thumb was still on the hypodermic plunger. "I know every atom in your body wants to protect me and the baby right now, but the only way you can do that is to back away."

"Listen to the girl," Raymond cautioned, his voice cutting like diamonds over glass. "Don't do anything foolish, and that includes your mate who has us in his rifle sights from atop that building over there. Bullets have little effect on me, Varcolac. If you shoot, I'll depress this plunger, and then your woman will be spilling claret onto the street before you can say Bob's your uncle."

Dev bellowed, his expression black hell.

Marissa choked on a quiet sob, her arm aching from the sharp pierce of the needle. "He'll abort our baby if you don't do as he says, Dev. He will."

Jacken and Sedge grabbed Dev by the shoulders.

"Enough discussion." Raymond commanded. "We'll meet here tomorrow, gentlemen. You comprehend the terms." He moved back toward the open door of the limo.

She stepped carefully along with him, very aware of the dangerous needle still in her arm.

Dev stalked their every movement with predatory eyes, his face a mask of chiseled fury. She'd never seen her husband with so much wrath and hatred on his face; she hadn't even known he was capable of it.

"Just go get Toni," she whispered to him. "She'll know what to do."

Raymond pushed Marissa into the limo, removing the needle as he did, and closed the door.

Murk and Videon climbed in after them, and then the limousine lurched into motion.

Twisting in her seat, Marissa looked out the rear window, watching Dev break free from Jacken and Sedge and race down the street after them.

The limousine's tires smoked, sending up the stench of burnt rubber as Teer took off.

Dev threw back his head and howled, the cords in his neck striated, his forearms knotted. Streetlights popped apart overhead like Fourth of July fireworks, and the limo swerved crazily as glass rained down onto the hood, the roof, the street. The road soon looked carpeted with chunky ice.

Raymond relaxed back in his seat and peeled off his leather gloves. One of his blond eyebrows twitched. "Impressive."