Cliff's Descent Read online

  Cliff strained to hear anything that might indicate Bastien still lived and nearly sagged with relief when he heard Bastien snarl something at… Roland? He was fighting Roland Warbrook?

  Determined to find a way to help him, Cliff tightened his hold on his bowie knives and tensed as Mike and Wes, the last two vampires in front of him, lunged forward to attack an Immortal Guardian who must be at least six foot eight with a long black ponytail that reached his ass.

  The Immortal Guardian swung a katana so quickly Cliff couldn’t see it. He could only hear the whoosh of its movement.

  Mike’s head leaped from his body and landed in Wes’s hands. Cliff sucked in a breath.

  Wes yelped and dropped it a second before the Immortal Guardian decapitated him, too.

  Vince gasped.

  Joe swore.

  Cliff stared in horror. Despair inundated him as he gaped up at the immortal who now stood before him.

  All of the other Immortal Guardians’ eyes glowed amber. But this one’s eyes glowed golden, and he radiated power like no one Cliff had ever encountered. Was this their leader? Had the leader of the Immortal Guardians come to personally bring a halt to Bastien’s quest? Had he come to kill Bastien?

  The immortal gave Cliff, Vince, and Joe a curious look, then glanced over his shoulder.

  He wasn’t even breathing hard!

  “How many more of these bastards are there?” a British warrior growled with aggravation as he cut down another vampire.

  The tallest one responded with a casual shrug. “I don’t know. I’ve lost count.”

  His voice… This was the man Cliff had heard tell the others to keep Roland from killing Bastien. Why? Because he wanted to kill Bastien himself? Make an example of him?

  Cliff glanced at Vince and Joe.

  Panic painted their features. Like him, neither seemed to know how the hell they could defeat this immortal and his companions and stop Roland before he killed Bastien.

  If he hadn’t already killed him.

  Had Roland killed him? It was hard for Cliff to hear with his heartbeat pounding so loudly in his ears.

  He focused on the golden-eyed leader. Even three against one, he had no hope of defeating him. And he did not want his head to end up on the floor beside Mike’s and Wes’s…

  The immortal arched a brow. “Well?”

  Joe’s throat worked in a hard swallow. “You guys are Immortal Guardians?”

  “Yes.”

  Cliff shifted his weight from one foot to the other and tightened his hold on his weapons. “Did you kill Bastien?”

  “No. We have no intention of killing him. Bastien is one of us.”

  Shock tore through Cliff. His jaw dropped. “Bastien is an immortal?”

  “Yes.”

  No way! He couldn’t be! Immortal Guardians didn’t help vampires. They killed them. That’s why Bastien wanted to wage war against them. At least, it was one of the reasons. “He said he was a vampire like us!”

  “Because he thinks he is,” the leader replied matter-of-factly. “Bastien is… confused. He was fed false information by the one who transformed him. We’re here to help him, not hurt him.”

  Before Cliff could call bullshit, Vince motioned belligerently to the carnage around them. “Then why are you killing all of us?”

  Joe nodded, his face dark with fury.

  “Bastien’s vampire followers have not been confining their feeding to those on the lists they were given.”

  Cliff frowned. Every sunset, Tanner—Bastien’s human assistant—gave each vampire a list of men they could drain. Every name on the list was that of a pedophile. And Cliff, Vince, and Joe had steadfastly stuck to those lists. It was a win-win. They got the blood they needed to survive and at the same time protected who knew how many children from the monsters determined to prey upon them.

  Had some of the other vampires strayed?

  As if to confirm his thoughts, the imposing warrior continued. “They’re killing innocents. I’m afraid we cannot allow such to continue.”

  Joe shook his head. “But Bastien said immortals kill innocents.”

  “As I said, he was misinformed. Immortal Guardians only kill those who prey upon the innocent, those who threaten to reveal our existence to the mortal world, and those who seek to harm us. We protect innocents.”

  The giant sheathed one katana, pulled out a throwing knife, and hurled it into the throat of a vampire who had snuck past another Immortal Guardian and was circling around to attack his back.

  Cliff glanced at his friends and jerked his head toward the tunnel behind them.

  All three took a couple of steps back and huddled together while they kept an eye on the immortal blocking their path.

  “Do you think it’s true?” Joe blurted. “Do you think Bastien is an immortal?”

  Cliff strained to hear what was taking place at the end of that unguarded hallway and finally managed to glean a little information. “Bastien is injured, but Roland hasn’t struck a death blow.”

  “Yet,” Vince added.

  Joe nodded.

  Cliff’s glance strayed to the powerful immortal who left them to their discussion while he tossed daggers and throwing stars at other vampires as casually as one might toss bread crumbs to a flock of pigeons. “Before they struck, I heard this one tell the others to try to keep Roland from killing him.”

  “What?” Joe asked, eyes widening.

  Vince scowled. “Maybe he just wants to kill Bastien himself.”

  “Or maybe,” Cliff forced himself to say as doubt crept in, “he’s telling us the truth. Maybe Bastien is an immortal and was fed a bunch of bullshit by the vamp who turned him. I’ve spent more time with Bastien than you have.” The two of them had forged a strong friendship. “I know his history. The vamp who turned him was his best friend. Bastien would’ve had no reason to doubt whatever he told him.”

  Vince’s scowl turned into a pucker of worry. “Bastien is the oldest vampire I’ve ever met.”

  Cliff nodded. “Most of us go crazy within a few years of transforming. Bastien didn’t.” It made what the Immortal Guardian leader had told them frighteningly plausible and pretty much annihilated their reasons for fighting.

  Straightening his shoulders, Joe cleared his throat and addressed the immortal. “What exactly are our options here?”

  “How long has it been since you were turned?” he countered.

  “Six months.”

  “Fourteen for me,” Cliff said.

  “About two and a half years,” Vincent answered.

  “How’s the bloodlust?”

  “Controllable,” Joe answered.

  Cliff nodded. “Same here.”

  Vincent hesitated. “It’s pretty bad,” he admitted, surprising Cliff with his honesty. “I… I’ve been having… thoughts… lately that scare me.”

  “Have you acted upon them?”

  “No.”

  Cliff hastened to assure the immortal. “He hasn’t killed anyone who wasn’t on Bastien’s list.”

  Joe nodded. “We made sure. One of us is always with him.” Because both had seen the signs that Vince was beginning to struggle with the madness the damned virus caused.

  The immortal regarded them thoughtfully. “You have two options then, gentlemen. We can either fight to the death today—your death, I’m afraid.” Yep. That was what Cliff had thought. “Or should you prefer it, you can be taken to one of our research facilities. You’ll be given individual apartments and anything else you need to be comfortable. You will be supplied with bagged blood and food as well. But you will not be able to leave the building without an immortal escort. We can’t risk your killing an innocent.”

  Cliff’s stomach sank.

  Joe frowned. “Research facility?”

  The leader nodded. “Our scientists are attempting to find both a cure for the vampiric virus and a treatment that will alleviate or prevent entirely th
e madness that inevitably afflicts your kind. Perhaps you would like to be of some assistance.”

  A faint glimmer of hope flared. Bastien had enlisted the aid of a scientist to do the same: find a cure for the virus or alternately a treatment for the madness it induced. Unfortunately, he’d had little luck. But these guys looked like they had a lot more resources at their disposal.

  Vince snorted. “So you want us to be your guinea pigs? Your lab rats?”

  “Look,” Cliff said, not as ready to dismiss the idea, “if there’s a chance they can keep us from going crazy, it’s worth it.”

  “I agree,” Joe said somberly.

  “But we’d be like their prisoners,” Vince protested.

  Yes, they would.

  A tense silence ensued.

  The big warrior threw another knife.

  Joe shook his head. “Killing pedophiles is one thing. I don’t want to end up killing women and kids and people who aren’t violent criminals. If being locked up is the only way to ensure I don’t…”

  Cliff nodded. “Yeah, I don’t want to end up like the one who turned me. He didn’t just feed on people, he tortured them.” At least, the vampire who claimed he’d been the one to turn him had. That bastard had been seriously depraved.

  “The guy who made me tortured people, too,” Vince admitted reluctantly.

  “So did mine,” Joe added.

  The Immortal Guardian lobbed another knife at one of two vampires who fought the female, who had abandoned her guns and now wielded shoto swords. “You won’t be treated badly,” he assured them. “And should we not be able to help you, when the madness grows too uncomfortable, you can choose your own end. We won’t force you to linger in such a state.”

  The three stared at each other for a long, somber moment.

  It really seemed the only way. Dying today wouldn’t help Bastien. If this immortal was truly on the up-and-up, then maybe Bastien, Vince, Joe, and Cliff could all make it out of this alive and get help staving off the madness as well.

  “Fine,” Vince said finally. “Let’s do it.”

  The formidable immortal sheathed his other katana. “I don’t have any rope with which to restrain you so… sorry about this.” Lightning quick, he punched Vince and Joe. Cliff drew in a breath to protest. But the immortal was quicker.

  Pain exploded in Cliff’s face as a big fist struck. The room around him tilted as all strength left his legs.

  I hope this isn’t a mistake, Cliff thought just before darkness enveloped him.

  Chapter One

  Two years later

  Cliff listened to the activity in the hallway outside his apartment. Male voices murmured. Boots clomped on the floor as additional guards joined the already large contingent that manned sublevel 5 of network headquarters. Weapons clicked and clacked as guards checked magazines. Rustling sounded as tranquilizer guns slid into holsters.

  One might not think all that would be necessary to keep two vampires in check. And on an ordinary day it wouldn’t. But apparently Bastien was bringing in a new one—a third vampire he had managed to recruit.

  Cliff, Joe, and Vince had been the first vampires in history to essentially surrender to the Immortal Guardians when the latter defeated Bastien. Cliff loved the two-century-old British immortal like a brother. But damn, he was glad Bastien hadn’t won that last horrific battle in the basement of Bastien’s home. He knew his friend wasn’t happy. Seth, the immensely powerful Immortal Guardians leader who had punched Cliff in the face that fateful day, had pretty much forced Bastien into the fold. And neither Bastien nor his new immortal brethren were the least bit thrilled with the situation.

  Cliff still held out hope, however, that Bastien would eventually find happiness among their ranks. Particularly now that Bastien had clearly developed feelings for Melanie Lipton, one of the doctors Cliff worked with on a daily basis.

  Seth had delivered on his promises. Or most of them anyway. Cliff, Vince, and Joe had not been thrust into jail cells. They had been given very nice apartments at the headquarters of the East Coast division of the human network that aided Immortal Guardians.

  Cliff glanced around. He wouldn’t have been able to afford anything so ritzy before his transformation. His apartment rocked. But he had not been allowed to leave sublevel 5 once since his arrival. And no matter how nice the premises were, they hadn’t alleviated the difficulty of going two years without setting foot outside.

  True to Seth’s words, researchers here at the network toiled pretty much night and day, searching for a cure for the virus or a way to keep humans infected with it from going mad. Alas, they had not yet succeeded. And Vince had not been able to hold on.

  Sadness struck at the memory of the friend he’d lost the previous year.

  At least Vince had chosen his own end, one far more honorable than embracing the madness and inflicting untold horrors upon random, unsuspecting victims.

  Cliff was beginning to fear he and Joe would suffer the same fate.

  Joe wasn’t doing well. Even though he hadn’t been infected with the virus as long as Cliff, Joe had had a number of psychotic breaks in recent months and had begun to rant maniacally in his apartment.

  Kinda like he was doing now.

  “Don’t let them take you! Get out while you can!” he bellowed in the apartment next door.

  Cliff winced, his enhanced hearing him allowing him to hear every word despite the heavy titanium-and-concrete-reinforced walls that separated them.

  “Run! They’re lying! If you let them take you, they’ll steal your thoughts! They’ll steal your memories! Big fucking chunks of them! And they’ll plant new ones! They’ll brainwash you! They’ll brainwash you the way they have me! They’ll make you think it’s you! That you’re fucked up in the head! But it’s them! It’s always been them!”

  Cliff’s stomach churned. Joe was getting worse. The madness that seeped into him bore a heavy dose of paranoia. In his lucid moments, Joe knew Melanie and Linda and the other doctors here at the network were trying to help him. He even felt great affection for the former. Neither woman had ever treated the vampires like monsters. Though they must have been nervous as hell—if not downright terrified—the first time they met Cliff and the others, Melanie and Linda had shown them only kindness… even while combating violent outbursts.

  Could network headquarters sometimes feel like a prison? Yes. Cliff missed the freedom to come and go whenever he liked. He missed fresh air. And moonlight. Feeling a breeze on his face. Hearing the crickets chirp. But he would willfully surrender all of that again and again to keep from harming men, women, and children whose only offense would be to cross his path. He didn’t want to brutalize and butcher people the way he’d seen vampires consumed by madness do. Or vampires who weren’t consumed by madness but simply got off on the strength vampirism gave them.

  Joe felt the same way Cliff did. In his lucid moments.

  But he wasn’t lucid now.

  Cliff heard Melanie talking to Chris Reordon, the head honcho at the network, out in the hallway. Crossing to the coffee table, Cliff snagged a pen and a piece of paper, then scribbled a quick note.

  You need to sedate Joe. He’s ranting again. And if the new vampire hears some of the things Joe is saying, I guarantee you he’ll bolt.

  As soon as he finished, he folded the paper and moved to stand beside the door to his apartment.

  Though the network had done a nice job coating the door with a thin sheet of wood, it didn’t change the fact that the damn thing was as thick and heavy as the door on a bank vault. So were the walls. Chris Reordon left nothing to chance, so he’d made damned sure any vampires housed here couldn’t break or tunnel their way out.

  Cliff listened to the conversations that filled the busy hallway beyond. Carefully timing the delivery of his message so it would miss Chris Reordon and attract the notice of Dr. Melanie and Dr. Linda, he slipped the piece of paper under the door.

 
; A few seconds later, paper rattled.

  “What is it?” Linda asked seconds later. A moment passed. “I’ll take care of it.”

  “Thanks,” Melanie said.

  If the two said anything else, they did so with sign language, having learned it shortly after the vampires’ arrival so they could converse without the vamps listening in.

  Cliff paced his apartment. Joe might rant and have violent breaks on occasion, but even when the voices he heard were at their loudest, he didn’t direct his aggression toward the women.

  At least he hadn’t yet.

  A knock sounded on the door to Joe’s apartment.

  Joe quieted.

  Cliff tensed.

  A clunk sounded.

  “Knock, knock,” Linda called cheerfully. “Hi, Joe. Can I come in?” The door clunked shut.

  “What’s that?” Joe asked, a reserved tone tinged with a hint of suspicion replacing his shouts.

  “I think I’ve finally perfected my praline recipe. But just to be sure… I was hoping you’d taste them again for me and tell me what you think. Your taste buds are so much more sensitive than mine. If anyone can tell me what I did or didn’t do right, it’s you.”

  Silence fell… and stretched long enough to worry Cliff.

  “Did you use less vanilla this time?” Joe asked slowly, haltingly, as he struggled to achieve lucidity and beat back the voices.

  “I did,” Linda said, a smile in her voice.

  “Okay.” A rustle sounded, followed by crunching. “Mmm. These are good.”

  Cliff relaxed.

  “You really think so?”

  “Mm-hmm.”

  “Anything else you think I should change?”

  “No,” Joe responded, sounding a little more like his usual self. “I think you nailed it this time.”

  “Thank you!”

  More rustling ensued that Cliff suspected resulted from Linda giving Joe a hug.

  Damn, he loved that woman.

  He loved both women. Melanie and Linda were the perfect combination of sweet and ballsy.

  “You seem a little tense,” Linda said, concern entering her voice.