Crescendo

Chapter 4 - Tunnel at the End of the Light-1

Chapter 4 - Tunnel at the End of the LightThe stretch Humvee's growl filled my ears as I stepped up and ducked inside. The warmth circulated the back compartment making it nice and toasty. Lots of room for a party of eight or ten. The lighting was a weird phosphorous purple, the seat covers done in zebra stripes. No vampire mogul should go without such a party bus. All the better it being a large all-terrain vehicle to drive all the way out to the boonies to my house to pick me up in the middle of a snow storm. Peering at the surround zebra striped bench seats, I chose a spot and sank into them and inhaled the new-car smells. Between the seats, in the center was some sort of black console. I realized it was a combination bar and refrigerator.

Heath ducked inside and sat on the opposite side. I could not look at him without thinking of his brother who I'd encountered only a few hours ago. If Tremayne, who was an old-as-dirt vampire, was gradually dying from the silver blade of the Dagger of Delphi, then surely, it would not take long for death to come to a minion like Darla.

“To the airport.” Heath spoke to the driver over a phone hand set. He replaced it in a compartment and closed it.

“Which airport? Aurora? Or…” I asked, my Knowing telling me precisely where at the same time he said it.

“DuKane,” he said.

Although not surprised, I nodded politely. I'd had the good sense to grab my purse. As always, my purse had my other weapons of choice, like vials of holy water, and my favorite squirt gun loaded with the same—which had saved my ass a half dozen times, now. I was forbidden to bring the dagger, for obvious reasons, but really, he didn't need to tell me like I was a total i***t.

It would be a long, fifteen minute drive to DuKane if I didn't find something to make conversation with Heath. He was the quiet brother. There were times when I wasn't aware of his presence when he was the only vampire around. Unless, of course, Jeanie was with him. But, she wasn't always in his company.

“Where's Jeanie tonight?” I wondered. Jeanie had been my best friend growing up. She had been abducted by Steve Pumphry, and Ilona Tremayne, and nearly drained of blood. I had to act quickly after we saved her from the rogue vampire house. I'd made the decision to have them turn her. A little guilt still welled within me over this decision even now. Would I never get over this?

“She's with her pod tonight. She's having… issues.” A “pod” was a small group of newly turned vampires. They stayed together, much like chicks in a nest—bad analogy, but it was the best I could think of.

“Oh, again?” I said. I wasn't going to touch that. Issues for a newly turned vampire could be anything from reverting back to a wild state of vampirism, where they wanted to kill anything with warm blood in it, to feeling depressed over being turned into a vampire and missing their human life. Neither one I would be able to handle or discuss with any authority.

“She's having a celebration of sorts. It's a vampire thing,” he went on. “She's officially one month old.”

“Oh, I'm sorry. You want to be with her, of course,” I said, twisting the fingers of my gloves.

“I will be. When I deliver you, I will return to the party.”

Party? Did he know what I did to his brother? I wasn't sure, and I really did not want to ask. He was a twin. Twins had that uncanny way of knowing when the other was in trouble, or hurt, or whatever. It was probably a good thing that neither were each other's maker. They had been turned back in the '60's, separately by females at a party somewhere in England where they were originally from.

The Humvee turned off the gravel onto a paved road. I gazed out the window to see distant lights of DuKane.

I tried to think of some safe subject to talk about. Everything that came to me I had to discard. He wouldn't know about the state of Tremayne Towers, which were in Ilona and Nicolas' control at the moment. Those two were undoubtedly waiting for Tremayne's death in order to take full control of it, and the Eastern half of the North American Vampire Association. If that happened, my world would be turned up-side down. I couldn't fight thousands of vampires. The few I fought tonight had made me a nervous wreck as it was. I still was not able to do this vampire slaying thing and be comfortable about it. Although the dagger did all the actual dirty work.

“I've never seen the airport here,” Heath said. I looked over at him. “I've actually never paid attention. Where is it?”

“Oh, it's up this road we're turning on to.” The Humvee made a turn onto the road that arched over I-88, and into the outskirts of DuKane. The road continued north, connecting other major highways.

“We should be there in five or so,” I said and was interrupted by a cell phone's ring.

Heath pulled out his phone. I should have been able to “know” who it was, if they were human. But, since I couldn't get a read, I knew it was either a vampire, or some other magical creature.

“Hello? Yes, we should be there in a matter of five minutes,” Heath said. “That's right. Which terminal?… Oh, I see. Right, then. See you in a bit.” He ended his phone conversation and put away his cell phone. We sat at a light, waiting.

“So, you have no idea where they're taking me?” I asked.

“No. I was told to deliver that letter to you, which I did. And then I was to continue to escort you to this airport.”

The light changed and the Humvee moved forward. I clutched my purse. If I didn't trust Heath as much as I did, I'd swear it was a trap. I'd been herded into traps for the past month or more. But the letter was from Tremayne's own hands, albeit trembling ones. He needed my help. Possibly I was to donate the rest of my blood to him so he could live. That morbid idea floated into my head and I pushed it right out.

We were nearly there. I pointed out over Heath's shoulder. “There's the airport.” As I said this a helicopter sank onto the tarmac, which we looked down upon from the bridge that crossed over the train tracks nearby. Blue lights ran along both sides of the runway. Hangers were arranged on one side, farm fields on the other.

Heath turned and looked. “Ah, I see it.”

In two minutes we were pulling up a drive toward a hangar where the lights of a small jet glowed. A Lier jet, now that I saw it up close.

“Well, this is where I leave you?” I asked.

“Yes,” Heath said. “I wish you luck, Sabrina.”

I pulled my purse close to myself, thinking I should shake his hand, but humans didn't shake hands with a vampire if they knew better. “Thank you,” I said. “Say hi and—uh—happy… uh, whatever to Jeanie for me.”

“I will.”

The driver came around and opened the door of the Humvee. I stepped out onto a cleared off pavement and I strode toward the awaiting jet.

“Sabrina?”

I turned back to see Heath hanging slightly out of the door of the vehicle. “I want you to know that if—if things don't go well, I won't hold anything against you. Really. I'll always be your friend.”

Tightness closed my throat. I couldn't fathom any vampire saying this to me. Heath's friendship was unwavering. Unable to respond because of emotional over-load, I smiled and waved. A twinge in my nose made me rub at it. I wondered as to whether or not I would ever see Heath again, and under what circumstances. Oddly enough, my visions had not come to me, per usual.

I strode the short distance and climbed the steps of the Lier Jet where the pilot stood. I determined he was quite human.

“Good evening, Ms. Strong,” the pilot greeted me. I suddenly felt as though I were in a spy movie, and I was about to meet 007. This was not the normal thing for me to do—jump in a Humvee, and be taken to a small jet to be flown to places unknown in the dark of night.

I smiled at him. “Hi.” Bitter wind whipped at us, cutting off any more niceties, and my wild imaginings of spies or thoughts of having a chat with Daniel Craig, or Timothy Dalton—or my favorite James Bond actor, Pierce Brosnan.

The pilot moved away from the door and I stepped inside the warmth of the luxury jet. He shut the door behind himself and I heard it lock with a slight vacuum seal sound. I was standing in a small seating area that looked more like someone's living room done in white, tans and browns with a little pale green leafy patterns thrown in for color. The pilot continued through to the other end and through another door, which he closed.

The fact a vampire was on the plane nearly shocked me and I had to struggle to keep a poker face. A handsome man with a bad-boy's growth of beard and blue-black hair in a business cut occupied one of the sofas. If I continued with my day dream, I'd have to say he was the most handsome Bond I'd ever seen. He stood and smiled. Teeth showing, but no fangs—thank goodness! Oh, yes. He was a vampire.

“Ms. Strong. Nice of you to join us,” he greeted me in a nice, deep voice.

He had dangerous blue eyes. Dangerous because they were magnetic, and especially on such a magnificent looking man. I knew a powerful vampire when I met one, and he was definitely powerful.

“My name is Stefan Capella. I'm to escort you to your final destination.” His lips moved sensually. The lower lip sort of dipped down to one side, flashing his teeth as he spoke. He made a slight bow with his head. Again I would not shake his hand. That would be dangerous for me in a half dozen ways.

“Thank you.” Wonderful. Another Steve. However, aside from his name, he didn't resemble Steve Pumphry at all. Stefan wore a black suit over a black button-down shirt, and he wore it well, believe me. The orchid tie was the only color on him. Suave features, olive complexion, black hair, plus the name, told me he was Italian, and he oozed vampire pheromones. Luckily for me, the gloves I wore had open mesh over the mystic ring. It was the only pair I owned. I'd asked Constance to help me make them, and they turned out so well that she offered to make me more pairs. I may have to check on the status of them when I get back. In the back of my darting mind I figured it would give me the opening I needed to talk to her.

“Have a seat here,” Stefan said, motioning to a set of six—three abreast—unoccupied seats facing forward. They looked more like airline seats, but more plush, equipped with seat belts.

“We'll be taking off momentarily.” The windows were small and round, tinted dark—a vampire's jet.

I sank into one of the seats, and pulled on the lap belt. Stefan settled into the one next to me. I did not like being this close to him. A distinctive whine of jet engines, and a tone sounded inside, as a light came on above that said FASTEN STEAT BELTS. Stefan smiled down at me. This was going to be a long flight if I had to keep my eyes off of him. I glanced away. He was trying terribly hard to hit me with his vampire thrall, but he was striking out, and I think his ego was a little bruised.

The jet engines wound up higher and it begin to taxi onto a runway. Out the darkened windows muted lights blinked past my vision.

“Have you flown before?” Steve asked.

“Lots of times,” I said. “My father flew.” Only not a Lier jet.

“I see. Good.” He smiled a relaxed sort of smile that creased his cheeks.

“Where are we going?”

“I'm not at liberty to tell you that.”

“Ah. I see. This is a top secret place?”

“Actually, yes. It is.” Yep. James Bond had nothing on me.

The jet's motion sped up. I waited for that familiar feeling of when we left the ground. My stomach had that lurching, butterfly feeling. I had always thought it was fun to fly.

“I was told I'm going to see Tremayne. I'm to help him.”

“Yes. That's correct,” Stefan said.

“Must be really secret,” I said. “I'm taken to a small airport and whisked off.”