"Then there is no problem." He leaned back in his huge black leather chair, his gaze still uncomfortably fixed on Janie. "The vampire drives with an acquaintance, a werewolf, en route to Arizona ." He pushed a piece of paper toward her. "The seers inform me they will be at this location tomorrow at noon sharp."
She picked it up, glanced at the address, and then tucked it and the drawing into her pocket. "Then I guess I'll be on my way." She turned her back.
"Parker."
She froze, then twisted around to face the man who had the starring role in most of her nightmares. "Yes,
sir?"
"In case you were thinking about failing again, know that to do so would displease me greatly."
"I understand."
"Do you?" His right hand slipped down into the drawer again, and he pulled out a photo, then placed it on the top of his desk. "Your own life may mean little to you, but should you disappoint me again, there are other punishments I can think of."
She drew closer to the desk and looked down at the surveillance photo of a pretty redhead, and her heart nearly stopped. It was her younger sister, Angela, who had disappeared five years ago, just after her eighteenth birthday. Janie had searched nonstop for over a year but found no clues as to where she'd gone. After that, she'd convinced herself Angela was dead, just like the rest of her family.
Her eyes flicked up to meet the evil ones of her boss from hell.
"Where is she?" Her voice was barely a gasp.
He spread his hands. "Bring me the Eye and we will discuss the matter further. Fail me and she will take your punishment. And I promise you, I will not be merciful. Do you understand?"
Janie fought back the stinging tears that threatened to escape. Shit. She hadn't cried in years, and she wasn't going to start now. Her lips thinned, and she nodded at the bastard with one jerk of her head. "I understand."
"By Friday at midnight, or you will watch your sister die."
She grabbed the photo and jammed it into her pocket, then stormed past the expressionless drones and out of the office, slamming the door behind her. She turned and braced herself against the wall and tried to remain calm. She grabbed her necklace and twisted it. She might try to act all tough, but she wore a memento of what she'd lost at all times. She and Angela had bought matching necklaces—a knotted, natural fiber chain that bore a large oval turquoise—years ago on vacation in Mexico when their entire family had been together and happy. The necklace wasn't fancy, and it didn't exactly go with most of her wardrobe, but she wouldn't trade it for diamonds and gold. She never took it off.
Her little sister was alive. The idea thrilled her and filled her with so much dread she couldn't contain it.
Her parents had died when she was a teenager. Her brother had abandoned her to become a vampire hunter, until he'd gotten himself killed a couple months ago. She'd thought she was all alone in the world.
Sure as hell had felt like it. Maybe that's why she'd latched on to the loser who'd roped her into working for the Company to begin with—some misplaced need to belong somewhere.
The penalty for failure was huge. But the payoff was even bigger if she was successful. And how couldn't she be? It was just a regular retrieval. She was one of the best at that. She'd grab her current partner,
Lenny, and the two of them would leave immediately for Arizona .
She'd kill a hundred nasty vampires for the chance to find out where her sister was.
One little vampire wouldn't be any problem at all.
As Quinn drove along the seemingly endless historic Route 66, he went over the plan in his mind. It wouldn't be simple, but it would work.
But first he had to take care of something.
He glanced at Barkley, who had rolled down the window all the way and was letting the wind whip through his shaggy black hair. His eyes were closed, and he had a look of complete bliss on his face.
First he'd unload the werewolf. Barkley would only slow him down.
Barkley thought Quinn's motives for agreeing to drive him across the country to rejoin his pack were completely altruistic. Barkley didn't have a driver's license. He was also deathly afraid of airplanes. He'd assumed that Quinn needed a change of scenery—to clear his head and get used to his new status as a reluctant vampire. And what better way than to take part in a road trip across the country?
Right.
But driving Barkley home was only part of the reason for his trip to Arizona . The letter in his pocket was the other reason.
The letter had been sent by his father's best friend and hunting buddy, Malcolm Price, eight years ago, and it arrived only days after Malcolm had been murdered. It contained information that pinpointed the location where the Eye was buried, right there in Arizona in a place called Goodlaw .
The Eye was a magical artifact. Legend told that it once belonged to a powerful demon who was vanquished a thousand years ago; the Eye itself was hidden away by those whose worship of the demon had turned to fear for their tribe's safety. Should the Eye be found, the legend continued, it would grant one wish to whoever possessed it. Roger Quinn had searched obsessively for the relic and met with only failure, and he had quit his search in frustration after many long years.
Malcolm, when alive, had surmised that the timing was off. That the Eye would reveal itself only after a thousand years. Before that time had transpired, it would be a waste of time to even attempt to find it.
But according to Malcolm's eight-year-old letter, it was the right time now .
"Almost there," he said, turning down the radio that was set to a seventies rock-and-roll station—Led
Zeppelin leading into early Van Halen .
Barkley pulled in the half of his body currently outside of the Ford rental and rolled up the window.
"Great." He didn't sound terribly enthusiastic.
Quinn eyed him. "What's wrong?"
"Wrong? Nothing's wrong. It's all good." He let out a sigh that sounded very shuddery.
"I thought you wanted to go back to your pack."
"I do. Really. I do. Of course I do. Why wouldn't I? It's my duty."
"Right. Duty."
Barkley nodded. "I'm going to be Alpha."
"Yeah, so you were saying before. That's the leader, right?"
"Alpha wolf. Right. The leader."
"You know, I don't know all that much about werewolves." Quinn flicked his right turn signal on and exited the highway. "My specialty was vamps, of course. But I thought that you didn't simply become
Alpha—you had to fight your way to the top."
Barkley unrolled his window a few inches again. He was breathing unsteadily. "Yup, that's right."
"So you have to fight somebody?"