Bumble (Page 56)

"No," Marcus whispered, falling to his knees. The house had been blown apart, the lower levels, including Nathan’s underground bunker were exposed to daylight, and the rest of the house was on fire. Lavonna Anderson, who’d driven up right behind Marcus, was screaming Nathan’s name the moment she flung herself from the car. Dori and Cori, both in tears and looking frightened, were hugging against their mother.

"Is Ashe dead, too?" Sali had come with his mother and Marco. Now, they all stared at the smoldering remains of the Anderson’s house as more rain began to fall.

"That first blast was probably the Evans’ home," Winkler muttered grimly. "Come," he grabbed both of the strange men by the scruff, dragging them toward Marcus’ van. "We’ll be back," he said. Marcus, no longer paying attention to anything Winkler did, failed to respond.

* * *

"I had to sedate her." David Lang was back and talking to Denise DeLuca inside the DeLuca’s kitchen. Adele Evans was lying on the sofa inside Denise’s living room. She’d been screaming and crying, almost from the moment she’d seen the ruins of her home.

"Did we really hear Ashe’s voice, just before?" Marcus raked fingers through his dark hair.

"Yeah, Dad. You did. And that’s not all Ashe could do, either." Marco had an untouched bottle of soda in front of him at the kitchen table. "Dad, where are Cori and her family right now?"

"At the O’Neill’s, with Sharon and Jonas. Sharon says they’re not doing very well, either."

"Can I go see them?"

"Son, whoever did this is still out there. I talked to Winkler half an hour ago. They’re still looking, but they haven’t found anything yet. I don’t want anyone leaving the house. We could all be targets."

"Then I’ll call over there and see if Cori is all right."

"Use my cell, the land-lines are still out of service from the tornado," Marcus handed the phone to his oldest son.

"Ashe, you can’t be dead," Sali stroked the edges of his Frisbee, the round disk bearing tooth marks from too many games with his friend to count. Sali was huddled in his bed, shoes and all, feeling numb. For the first time in a very long time, he felt sick instead of hungry.

* * *

"I’ll notify the Council." Weldon Harper, Grand Master of the werewolves, spoke with Marcus DeLuca over the phone. Marco and Sali heard both sides of the conversation when Marcus called to inform the Grand Master of the day’s events. "I’ll wait until I hear from Winkler, though. I hope he’ll capture those responsible, so I can at least tell the Head of the Council that. Radomir is his vampire child, you know."

"Oh, no," Marcus moaned.

* * *

"I’m still trying to figure out how you did this." Randy Smith sat in a corner of Old Harold’s hidden bunker. Ashe, exhausted, had slept most of the day after dropping three vampires in the floor and passing out immediately after. Now, Ashe was awake and Randy was asking questions.

"I’m not really sure. Dad told me once that some really rare vampires can turn to mist and mindspeak. I can do that somehow without being vampire."

"You don’t shapeshift?" Randy asked.

"No, I do that too, but it’s embarrassing," Ashe mumbled. He still felt tired and his wound had bled again; there was a patch of red that had soaked through the front bandage. Ashe was afraid of what the wound on his back might look like.

"Has to be better than not doing anything," Randy sighed.

"Yeah. Sorry," Ashe apologized.

"Not your fault," Randy said. "I’m just glad you can do what you do. Otherwise I’d be dead meat, come tomorrow night."

"I couldn’t let that happen," Ashe said. "Now, all I have to do is try to explain all this to Dad before he removes my head when he wakes."

"Then start explaining now," Aedan Evans said, startling Ashe. "Immediately."

* * *

"Cori, I hope he’s not dead," Marco said. He’d called Cori earlier, but promised to call back when he had more privacy. He and Sali were sitting in the floor of Marco’s room, Denise DeLuca’s cell phone held between them so both could hear.

"Marco, if their house looks anything like ours," Cori wept.

"Cori, sweetheart, don’t cry," Marco begged. "Just give it a little time, all right? If we don’t hear anything by tomorrow, then we’ll know the worst has happened with Ashe." Sali stared at Marco—he’d called Cori sweetheart. When did that happen?

"Daddy’s dead," Cori wept. "And there’s nothing left to bury."

"Cori, don’t cry, please?" Marco was pleading with Cori over the phone. Sali’s mouth dropped open in surprise.

* * *

"Your proof?" Aedan sounded skeptical at Ashe’s story. Ashe was thankful that Old Harold had thought to place a lamp inside his bunker. Not for his father, but for him and Randy. Ashe handed an old photograph over, with a receipt from a gas station in Santa Fe. Aedan stared at both in surprise.

"I think I know where we need to go now," Nathan Anderson was staring at the two items over Aedan’s shoulder. Radomir, who’d listened silently the entire time, nodded his head in agreement.

"You two, wait here, we’ll come back for you," Aedan ordered, pointing at Ashe and Randy. "Don’t leave this bunker for anyone else, do you understand?" Aedan pulled out his cell phone and made a call. "Winkler?" he said.

* * *

"Nice to know you’re still among the living," Winkler said, answering the call.

"No time to talk pleasantries now," Aedan’s voice came through the cell. "We know who’s behind this, and we know where they might be." Aedan gave the location to Winkler, who whistled, agreed with Aedan and ended the call.

"Come on," Winkler jerked his head at Trace, Jason and the two Elemaiya. "We’ve got our targets. Let’s go get them."

* * *

"Come on, son, let’s get you out of here," Aedan was back and lifting a dozing Ashe.

"Did you get them, Dad?" Ashe asked sleepily.

"We did. Two are dead and the other one will spill everything he knows to Marcus DeLuca. Marcus can decide what to do with him after that. Randy, you come, too. You’re in the clear, now." Randy Smith, captured and condemned to death only a few days earlier, breathed the fresh air of an Oklahoma night as he stepped outside Old Harold’s home. "I’m free," he whispered, feeling as if the greatest weight in the universe had been lifted from his shoulders.

"You," he spat at Winkler and Radomir’s prisoner, who sat between the Enforcer and the Dallas Packmaster in the back of Winkler’s van. "Did you kill my dad or did you have somebody else do it?"