Aubrie’s place sat on a hill.  As hills went, it wasn’t a big hill, but for North Louisiana, an elevation of two hundred, seventy feet constituted a hill.  The white frame house was small and comfortable.  Not a statement home, but a homely place, J.T. mused.  He liked the decks that ran the length of the house in the front and back.  The views were impressive for a Louisiana hill.  Presently, the house glowed with lights streaming from the windows without curtains.  Unadorned and welcoming, they made him smile.  Living in the middle of nowhere had its perks, J.T. supposed.

Glancing at his passenger in the shotgun seat of his truck, J.T. had to admit, hiding Nybbas in the middle of a metropolitan center would have been a bit too much, even for a former Navy SEAL like him.  His middle name might be ‘difficult,’ but he would just as soon not have to go there.  “Come on, they’re expecting us?”

“Can I watch television?”  Nybbas’ straggly eyebrows winged up like a young child in anticipation.

“If you keep the volume down, we are having a meeting.”

Nybbas nodded, his double chin expanding with the effort.  “What are you talking about tonight?”

J.T. considered his passenger.  Telling Nybbas shouldn’t be a big deal.  After all, he was a bit of a couch potato these days.  “Taking care of your boss, once and for all.”

The green grandpa glanced out the truck’s side window into the darkness.  “Good,” was all he said.

“Come on, let’s go.”  J.T. motioned for Nybbas to follow, but at the door, the ex-Navy SEAL stalled out.  He wasn’t much good with etiquette and manners.  Sure, there was military etiquette or more like tradition, but civilian manners were something he was still learning.  “Ring the bell, you moron,” he murmured under his breath.  The musical chimes echoed through the door.  Now he felt like a suitor on the front steps of his date’s house, all nerves, and anticipation.

Nybbas snorted and hocked up a loogie.  Spitting into the shrubbery, he wiped his crusty mouth.  “Sorry.”

J.T. rolled his eyes.  “Remember what I said about noise.  Keep it down in there, all right?”

“Okay.”  The scarred head bobbed in response.

Positive they made the oddest couple of all time standing at the front door, J.T. shifted, nerves rippled down his backbone.  Glancing at the exterior of the house, he figured Aubrie had done a good job with the old fixer-upper.  Smart cedar shutters hung from the front windows and the front porch was newly floored.  Lots of tender love and care went into the landscaping around the perimeter of the rustic abode.  Logan had mentioned how gardening was Aubrie’s therapy.  She’d lived alone for several years in the house before Logan came along.  J.T. understood the quiet that came with living alone.  He’d grown used to the silence.

The door opened.  A trim woman of about thirty stood in the opening.  Her chocolate brown locks hung long and soft against her smooth skin.  Her eyes examined him carefully for only an instant before the charm was once more in expression.

“Well, J.T., thank you for bringing Nybbas home.”  Aubrie stood, feet braced in the doorway.

“Football, I love football.”  Nybbas brushed past her, making a beeline for the flat screen in the corner of the living room.  “The Saints are playing tonight,” he announced to the room at large.  “Hi, Logan.”  The green gramps waved before shuffling over to an ottoman.  Plopping down, Nybbas belched.

Reminded of the green slim from Ghost Busters, one of his favorite old eighties movies, J.T. couldn’t contain the grin. 

Aubrie followed his progress before turning back to J.T.  “Logan told me you were coming.”

Her words were a flat statement rather than a welcome.  J.T. waited a beat.  Doubting it would do any good, he tried to explain.  “I found him rummaging through my fridge.  Had to wait for the sun to set before bringing him back.  Did we come at a bad time?”

Aubrie’s eyes never left his face.  “No, perfect timing.”

She was examining him for flaws.  He would have laughed but thought better of the idea immediately.  She did not like him.  The fact appeared in the tightness of her features.  Remaining outside, J.T. waited.  Vampires were welcome, or they were not.  A custom, one he adhered to without question.  Always err on the side of caution was his mantra.

“J.T.?  Hey bro, come on in.”  Logan’s voice grew closer from the living room.

Aubrie released the door handle, taking a step back.  Turning, she headed for the kitchen.

Well, J.T. surmised, that was that.

“Want a beer?”  Logan slapped him on the back.  Good to see you, bro.  He gestured toward the living room.  “Hey, Aubrie, would you get us a couple of brews?”

“Sure.”

There was the flat tone again in her answer.  J.T. glanced across the foyer to the kitchen.  She narrowed her eyes at her fiancé.  Wondering if there was a chill in the room, he glanced at the game instead of their silent communication.

“Don’t mind her.  She’s bent at me for forgetting to tell her you were bringing grandpa back until a little while ago.”  Logan shrugged.  “Well, I didn’t think it was a big deal.”  He pointed to the clothes piled in the corner of the room.

J.T.’s attention tracked to the shoes mixed in with jeans, shirts, and jackets all wadded up in a ball on the floor opposite the couch.  “I was cleaning up some when you guys showed up.”

Imagining Logan had not wiggled his nose helped J.T.’s visual of the reason or at least a partial reason, Aubrie was giving him the cold shoulder.  Come to think of it she never had been too friendly toward him from the beginning.  J.T. always figured it had something to do with not wanting to get too close for fear of reading his thoughts.  Nasty business, reading thoughts. 

Aubrie’s smile proved thin as she came back with two beers.  “You need to tell me these things, Logan.  A girl must prepare.  What’s it going to be like when we are married?”

Logan took the bottle she offered, cutting a look at J.T.  Smiling winningly, he spoke as if on cue.  “No need to ask when you’ve got me around.  Right?”

“Thanks,” J.T. said as he took the bottle from her.

Her smirk spoke volumes.  Aubrie headed for kitchen once more.

With a practiced smoothness, Logan changed the subject.  “J.T., how’s business?”

“Good.  Can’t complain.”  The P.I. gig afforded him a means of parlaying his condition into a viable job.  Private investigators logged a lot of stakeout time at night.  “Not many clients question why I do most of my work after normal business hours.  Some of the female customers even find the timing intriguing.”  His mouth pursed as he shrugged.  My client list is full, at the moment.  Turning the question around, he asked Logan, “How’s the garage?”

“Oh, you know.  Something always needs fixing.”  Logan stretched his mile-long legs out on the coffee table. 

J.T. figured that as guests went, he did not fall into the category eligible to get away with such a move.  Instead, he decided to ease back on the couch.  “What’s the score?”

“Seven to six.  The Saints are leading.”  Nybbas turned to them with an impish grin on his rumpled face.

“Seriously, bro, you been doing all right?”  Logan glanced across his boots at J.T.

Understanding Logan’s underlying meaning was not the problem.  His Team Six bud wanted to know if the Sultan had visited in his dreams.  J.T. didn’t like lying, but people didn’t want to hear your troubles even as they pretended concern for a vampire’s well-being.  “Yea, been doing all right.  Nothing I can’t handle.  What about you?”

“Good for the most part.  Don’t think I’ve forgotten how you stood for me when the cops charged me with murder.”

“Bro, you know I was glad I could help.  That’s what friends do.  You still feel like the Sultan was behind Connie’s murder?”

“Hell yeah, he was behind it.  In front of it, on either side of it.  J.T., the Sultan, murdered Connie.”

“I wish we had something to go on, so we could pin him with the crime.  His getting off scot-free blows.”

“Tell me about it.  We’re going over things tonight to get ready for another trip mission.  There are so many people held prisoners over there.”  His eyes fell away at the thought.  “Sending in an assault team would end in a bloodbath.”

J.T. mulled over the circumstances before nodding.  He had already come to the same conclusion.  “Meagan’s folks, do we have an idea where they are?”

Logan shook his head.  “No, all I can see is their aura in or near his stronghold.  The coordinates keep changing though like he’s scrambling the signal.”  Logan stood.  “What about another beer?”

Glancing down at the bottle holding only a third of what it had, J.T. nodded.  “Sure, one more beer couldn’t hurt.  Logan, Duke said he had something planned for returning to the Netherworld.”

Flicking a glance toward Aubrie, Logan snagged two beers before returning to the couch.  “Here you go.”

“Sorry, I should have waited,” J.T. said quietly.

“No worries,” Aubrie offered from the kitchen.  Her voice was cool and reserved.  “You guys have plans for world domination.  Pay no attention to me.  I’m perfectly happy just cooking away in my kitchen.  Let me know when you men have finished rearranging the world because then I’ll set the table for dinner.”

Logan’s mouth thinned.  “Gotta excuse her. She’s a little testy since we got back from the Netherworld this last time.  We left so many behind.”

Nodding, J.T. leaned forward, resting elbows on knees.  “Yeah, so I heard.  Duke was telling me about Meagan.  Is her family really prisoners of the Sultan’s?”

“Yeah, they are.  Like so many others, they are held prisoner by the bastard, and we haven’t been able to locate them.”  His jaw worked as he considered.  “J.T., I tell you, the Netherworld is a front.  You know, ‘the world is a stage?  All the people are actors.  My theory is that he’s using the mansion to lure people into his trap.  You can smell the evil in the air.  We’ve got to go back for those he enslaved, whether we launch an attack on him and his cronies or not.”

J.T. snarled under his breath.  “Bastard has got some balls.”

The doorbell rang.

Aubrie answered.  “It’s Duke and Katie.  They brought Meagan too.  Hey there!” she said as her smile brightened.  Before she could ask them in, Meagan reached out, giving Aubrie a warm hug.  “Okay,” Aubrie blinked before patting Meagan on the back.  Pulling back, she examined the girl.  “You, all right?”

Meagan nodded but said nothing.  Slipping past Aubrie, she went over and sat by Nybbas on the ottoman.  Their heads came together as he explained what she had missed.

Her behavior gave J.T. pause.  So young, he mused, yet so mature.  So fragile, yet solid.  Like his Jessie.  The young girl’s timid nature fell away as she smiled back at Aubrie.  “What’s for dinner?”

“Spaghetti,” Aubrie returned the smile for their young ward.

“Yummy!” Meagan offered with a grin.

Aubrie turned back to Katie in time to get a hug.  “You owe me big time, my friend.  Mission Aubrie’s Wedding Dress is complete.  Your dress is at the cleaners.”

“Thanks, Katie.  You and Meagan are a couple of lifesavers.  I’d have never gotten that dress hemmed in time for the wedding.”  Aubrie glanced up as Logan passed them headed for the kitchen.

So the women had a bond was J.T. initial reaction.  Just like the SEAL team.  Funny, but that fact eased something constrictive in J.T.’s chest.

“Hey guys, come in.  We’ve been getting settled.  Want a beer?” Logan asked as he opened the refrigerator.

“Sure.”  Duke gave Aubrie a hug as well as a friendly brush of a kiss against her cheek.  “Good to see you, Aubrie,” he said in greeting.

Logan handed off the beer before smirking at Duke.  “I thought I smelled a skunk.”

Without missing a beat, Duke shot back, “Yeah, well you better check those feet of yours.  I swear you can smell those suckers a mile away.”  Winking at J.T., Duke dropped to the couch, grinning with satisfaction.  Reaching over, he took J.T.’s hand in a firm shake.  “Thanks for coming.”

“Sure.”  Logan glanced around.  “Shall we get to work?  Time is a pretty scarce commodity where the Sultan’s concerned.”

Should he push for more than a recon at this point?  J.T. mulled over the circumstances.  With each day, with each hour that passed, more and more harm came to those under the Sultan’s thumb.  Brutality, hunger, disease, and debauchery were all on the table in the Netherworld.  Glancing down, he examined his hands gripping his knees.  Easy up, brother, or you’ll botch this mission before it gets moving, he mentally mused.

Meeting their eyes, he examined the participants in this little exercise of theirs.  Duke and Katie, stalwart and solid.  Duke would stand for those he cared for even though his skills did not come close to an enemy such as the Sultan.  Katie would back up any move Duke made.  She possessed such courage.   A self-motivated woman with brains.  J.T. hoped she didn’t let her emotions cloud her judgment.  Meagan, a mere child, she displayed such bravery in the face of danger.  Her role was personal.  If anyone needed his protection, it was her.  Then, there were the lovebirds, Aubrie and Logan.  A unit with skills which, if utilized properly could tip the scales in their favor.  J.T. decided a wedding was a bad idea, in the midst of their mission, but wasn’t in charge of the decision, so he would have to run interference, he supposed.

As if on cue, Katie joined the circle with freshly popped corn.  Aubrie set down salsa and chips.  J.T. glanced around the coffee table.  Not the only one the Sultan had hurt, he mused.  Easing back, he nodded at Logan.  They were all victims. He was the outsider.  “Logan, why don’t you start?”

“Roger that.  What do we know about the Sultan so far?” Logan asked the room at large.

“He’s a ruthless son-of-a-bitch,” Duke offered without apology.

“Yes, but specifically, what are his skills.  We need ammunition against his powers if we’re going to defeat him.”  Logan paused.

  J.T. straightened.  A phantom pain shot through his side, merely a reminder the Sultan had strengths.  “Last night he used a lightning bolt on me.”  Raising his shirt, he showed off the faint scare.

“You’re already healed.”  Aubrie’s voice held uneasy amazement.

“One of the perks of being undead.  You heal quickly from most injuries.”  He might hate the obvious surprise in her voice, but he had to put it out there just the same.

Her eyes found a spot on the table.  “Kind of like the potion I was fed.”

Logan reached for her hand, giving her fingers a good squeeze.  “J.T. can take care of himself, Sugar.  Don’t worry.”

“I’m not worried.  It’s just that…”  She trailed off.  “Oh, never mind.”  Rising she went back to the kitchen with empty glasses.

Logan watched her go.  “Okay, keep going.  What else do we know besides he can manipulate an unprepared mind and he has impressive firepower?”

Duke rubbed his injured leg.  “Yes, he does.”

“Let’s not forget, he can possess a person’s body.”  Glancing at Logan, J.T. shrugged unabashed.  “Gets into our dreams.  Oh, and visions are a big talent of his.”  Scowling down at his beer, J.T. paused a second.  “I’m not sure, but I think he can track our moves.”  He glanced around.  “Have any of you had the same feeling?  Because, if he suspects our moves, we’re going to fail.  It’s as simple as that.”

“No need in being so damn pessimistic, vampire.”  Duke frowned at J.T. over his beer.  “We’ve got a few tricks up our sleeves.  Right, Logan.”

Logan’s brow furrowed.  He released a long sigh before continuing, “J.T.’s right, Duke.  If we don’t get our plan together, the Sultan can wipe us off the map permanently.”

“All right.  That’s the whole reason for being here tonight.  Let’s get something rock solid in place before committing to going back.  We’ve got to finish him once and for all.”  Duke’s fist landed on the coffee table in affirmation.

“Easy, cowboy.”  Katie broke her silence beside him.  Duke’s eyes blazed with an uneasy fire.  “You’ve got that look in your eyes,” she whispered before cutting her eyes at the group.  “The same one I saw last time.”  She squeezed his thigh, a soft smile rimming her features.  “You’ve got help.  No solo mission is going to be necessary.  Okay?”  The small quiver in her tone didn’t slip by J.T.

“Duke, we’re in this thing together.  Everybody is working as one – a team – a family.”  Logan frowned at the turn in the conversation’s tone.

Duke nodded staring at his bottle.  “Yeah, I know.” Absently rubbing his leg, Duke frowned around the table.  “This creep is deadly.  I don’t know what we’ll find once we return.”  Glancing directly at Meagan, he winced when she bowed her head. 

Logan reached over, laying a hand on her shoulder.  “Your family is safe.  I can see that much.  The Sultan’s powers aren’t completely without flaws.  We’ll get them out.”

Meagan, who had slipped in to listen to their discussion, nodded hesitantly.

J.T. shifted.  So far, they were grasping at straws.  “What if I begin with a recon?  Make sure of his whereabouts as well as those of the prisoners or warriors as he likes to label them.  Recon will give us a window, an entry point we can use in making plans.  When the logistics are in place, we can push for an attack.”

“That sounds good.  In the meantime, I’ll work on firepower,” Logan said.  “Gus and I are stockpiling weapons and explosives even now.”  Logan scanned the group.  “We all need to know how to fire a weapon.  Hand to hand combat training begins tomorrow evening as well.”

“Good thinking.”  J.T. glanced at the team.  “Each person needs to play a specific role.  Expect our skills and strength to be tested past their limits.  We’re going to have to dig deep for the courage necessary to stop this madman.” 

Aubrie scooted to the edge of her seat.  “What about Pilot.  Shouldn’t we include him in these discussions?”

J.T, couldn’t hide his concern.  Logan had mentioned Aubrie’s shadow walker friend to him before.  Pilot had infiltrated the Sultan’s inner circle.  “Maybe.  I think, for the time being, Pilot will be safer if we don’t include him.”

With eyes growing wide, Aubrie stood.  “What are you saying?  Do you mean you don’t trust Pilot?”

“You misunderstood Sugar.”  Logan laid his big hand on hers as he stood.  “That’s not what J.T.’s saying at all.  Pilot is an intricate part of the Sultan’s plans.  If we disturb that connection or create doubt regarding Pilot’s loyalty in the Sultan’s eyes, Pilot could be in danger.  Better to leave him alone for the time being.”

Aubrie blinked.  “Yes, I suppose you’re right.”  She eased down into the chair.  Swallowing, she folded her hands over one another.  “We must protect him, though, from any fallout when we take out the Sultan.”

“Of course, but I agree with Logan,” Duke said.  “Since Pilot has infiltrated the Sultan’s lair deeply enough for the Sultan to make him his ‘right-hand man,’ we can’t jeopardize his position no matter what.”

Logan tapped a slim finger on the table.  “It’s just that at some point we’ll have to engage his help.  That’s where it’s going to get tricky.”

Katie reached out, taking Aubrie’s hand in hers.  “Don’t worry.  Pilot is talented and bright.  He won’t let anything happen to our favorite shadow walker.  I just know he won’t.”

Aubrie’s smile was weak.

Logan turned to Aubrie, gathering her closer before addressing the group.  “If only I had the power to teleport Pilot back.  Even if it were from beneath the Sultan’s nose, I’d feel better about leaving the shadow walker there.  His intel had been invaluable so far.  The connection is vital to our success.  Still, the truth remains.  The Sultan is a ruthless killer.  He’s already proven that fact.  I believe he killed Connie Colter and he attempted to kill Duke.  If he finds out Pilot is a spy, he’ll have his head in seconds.”

J.T. brow drew together.  “Can you guard against our actions coming back to haunt Pilot?  Maybe a spell?”

Logan swallowed before glancing into Aubrie’s eyes.  She’d been thinking the same thing.  He smiled at her.  They were so in tune with each other’s thoughts, it was like being twins where one could finish the other’s thoughts.

“J.T., will you excuse us?  I need Logan’s help with the spaghetti.”

“Sure.”  J.T. dismissed them with a smile.  Glancing at their retreating forms, he turned his attention back to the group.  “Where were we, Duke.  You were saying something about ways to keep Pilot safe.”

“Yeah, despite what Pilot thinks, he needs protection, a layer of cover, if you will, from the Sultan’s eyes.  Aubrie’s worried because she can’t get to him now.  It’s scary stuff for her because she is forced to rely on his skills as a shadow walker to keep him safe.  If in this recon, you could leave something he could retrieve, chances are good Pilot would sail through this little undercover operation unscathed.  If not, Aubrie’s fears could become a reality.”

The grave observation was one J.T. was glad Aubrie did not overhear.  “I’ll be happy to leave him one of Logan’s charms provided I can locate him or contact him somehow.”  J.T. glanced at the conversation happening between Logan and Aubrie in the kitchen.  Their voices were low, but with his acute hearing, he had no problem understanding what they said.

“I’m sorry.  I just don’t trust J.T.  He used to be the Sultan’s go-to guy.  Now, you agree with him about going in with an undercover recon alone.  Someone else needs to go with him.  That’s all I’m saying.”  Aubrie glanced at the living room.

She caught him watching.

“He’s looking this way.  Drop it for now.  We’ll talk about it later.”  Her eyes flitted away and studied the meal prep once more.

J.T. decided he had some convincing to do.  The group was not as agreeable to his presence as he had hoped, at least a couple of them weren’t.

***

The friends sat down to spaghetti as the discussion continued.  J.T. worked on asking questions.  Filing the info he received in return, he decided all would be useful as he stepped into the Netherworld.

Katie glanced about nervously.  “Logan, you’re sure the Sultan can’t hear us?”

“Positive, Katie girl.  I tested the spell myself.  We’ve gone dark as far as the evil one is concerned.”

Aubrie sat down the platter of vegetables she’d sautéed.  “Nybbas, do you want some more spaghetti?”

He shook his scared head.  “No, I can’t eat another bite.  Everything was delicious, Aubrie.  Thank you.”  Dabbing his generous mouth, Nybbas stood.  “If you’ll excuse me, I’m going back in to watch the Saints.  Football, it’s so much fun.”  With a shove of his chair, the molten grandpa waddled away, disappearing into the living room.

For a moment, Aubrie simply stood.  Her expression wasn’t one J.T. found helpful.  “Everything okay?”

“What?  Oh, yes.  Everything’s fine.”

He could see she was lying.  “I know all of this is hard to deal with, but we’ll prepare and practice beforehand.  Don’t worry.”

“I know.  It’s not that.  I'm being silly.  That’s all.”  Sitting once more, she twirled spaghetti on her fork as she frowned into her plate.

Katie reached over, taking her hand in hers.  “He’s not the same anymore, chere.”

Aubrie nodded, but didn’t look up.

“I wish I could block your memories of Nybbas before his demise.  They are just so deeply embedded.”  Logan waited for a beat.  “You are strong, Aubrie.  I’ve seen what he did to you.  Thank the gods we know who was behind his actions, but I’ve also seen your strength.  Valcura is a direct result of the hell you went through.”

“Yes, you are strong,” Katie said.  “Hell, I wish I could do half the things you can do when you become Valcura.  You’re amazing in my book.”  The giggle came out unbidden.  “Sorry,” she said.

“It’s okay, you guys.”  Aubrie glanced around the table.  “I simply can’t find a smidgen of the Nybbas I used to know.  He is a warm natured, wrinkled old man. Sometimes, it just takes my breath away, that’s all.”  Smiling, she stuffed spaghetti in her mouth.

“Well, at least your appetite hasn’t suffered,” Duke chided, his Texas twang growing thick.

Laughter ensued as each member of their little band of warriors enjoyed the jab.  J.T. lifted his wine glass.  “To teamwork.”  Glancing about the group, he took solace in the strength of family.  Despite the niggling tension some held for him, they still had their solidarity as well as their sense of humor.  The evening had not been lacking in plans for their return to the Netherworld.  It was a start.  His mission would provide their little company with the knowledge necessary for their survival.  The weight of what he had volunteered for weighted heavily on his dead heart.  J.T. glanced at the people sitting around the table.  He understood each of his talented partners had his back.  The magnitude of the task before them brought him to a harsh reality.

If push came to shove, J.T would be the one to sacrifice his existence for these seated next to him.  Comrades at arms and friends until the end.  That was his vow, one he would never share with the people he cared for most.  He understood their dependence on each other as well as him.  He trusted each of them completely.

***

“It’s a little late to be working, isn’t it?”  J.T. stood in the doorway to Aubrie’s office off the bedroom. 

Aubrie jerked.

“Easy.”  J.T. had expected her reaction.  His return smile curved in sympathy.  “I’m sorry.  Don’t make a sound these days.  The vampire gig, you know.”

Shaking her head, Aubrie arched a brow.  “You’re forgiven, I suppose.  Maybe you need a keeper or herald or something.”  Aubrie rubbed the back of her neck.  “I’m sorry.  That was uncalled for.  I’m in a pisser of a mood it seems.”  She tossed down the pen onto her desk before slumping in the chair.

J.T. flicked a glance in her direction.  “I grateful you allowed me the watch tonight.  Seeing what comes and goes through the veil is helpful.”  He let the statement linger in the silence.  “I figured you’d be in bed after all that cooking tonight.  The spaghetti was the best I’ve had.”  Still no reply.  “Hey, are you feeling all right?”

Aubrie shook her head before giving her neck a crack to either side.  “You know you have writer’s block when your mind is a million miles away, and nothing comes together on the page.”

J.T. had to admit the change of subject caught him off guard.  Her mind was bouncing from fear to fear.  He heard the frustrated agitation in her statement.  “Or maybe you’re simply distracted.”

“No argument there.”  She glanced at the calendar on the wall and grimaced.  “In ten days,” she mused aloud.  Tapping her fingers in nervous frustration, Aubrie shoved back from her desk.  “I can think of nothing else except the fact I’m marrying the sexiest warlock whoever spun a spell in only ten days.”

Her stilted laugh reminded him of a school girl.

“Sorry again.  TMI, right?”

J.T.’s grin surfaced automatically.  “Perhaps.”  Stuffing his hands in his front pockets, J.T. examined the floor at his feet.  He sensed things, always had.  Even before becoming a vampire, he had possessed a small sensory talent.  Like now, J.T. knew her heart thrummed with the thought of Logan’s touch.  The way the warlock looked at her made Aubrie’s knees weak.  Even the way he walked stirred her in a very private way.  He glanced up at her face in time to witness the blush creeping up her neck.  Point proved.

Straightening the papers on her desk for the thousandth time merely succeeded in aggravating Aubrie further.  She huffed out a shaky laugh before shoving at her hair.  “I’m sorry for going there.”  The desk chair creaked as she rolled back to the computer screen.  “I know I’m supposed to sit my butt in the chair and write, but I can’t think of a thing.”  Exasperation rimmed the words as she frowned at the desk.

Again, the change of subject.  Aubrie desperately needed her control J.T. supposed.  “No need to apologize.”  He took another step inside. That was far enough, he mused.  “It’s the truth.  Hell, even I can see the way you two look at each other.  What woman wouldn’t be distracted?”  He knelt on one knee, gaining her attention at eye level.  “Besides, there’s magic between you two.”  He waved a hand when she tried to disagree.  “I’m not talking about Logan’s talents.  There’s love there.  I’m happy for you.”

Turning, Aubrie smiled at J.T.  Gently, she reached out, her fingers grazed his cheek.  “You’re a good man, J.T.”

He was going to come back with for a vampire, but her face held a kindness he hadn’t seen before.  She was being sincere.  Something softened in his chest.

In the blink of an eye, Aubrie froze in place.  She was staring at something behind him.

J.T. turned to see what had caused her reaction.  The mirror behind him held only one image, Aubrie’s.  A vampire casts no reflection.  He turned back to see her staring at nothing but the solo reflection.  Stray hairs, the color of mink, waved in wisps about her oval face.  The chocolate strands gathered in a ponytail held a rich weight in the desk light.  Her skin had gone pale.  “It’s okay, Aubrie.”

Her eyes darted to him before returning to the mirror once more.  She had a hard time meeting his gaze.  Instead, she grew fidgety in the seat.  As if flicking on a switch, she splayed her hands flat on the desk, sliding them back and forth.  The laugh came out breathless as well as strained.  “Thank the gods, I write independently, or my deadline would be in grave danger at this point.”  She coughed nervously before continuing, “How am I supposed to manage a wedding rehearsal, a final fitting and a bachelorette party all in less than a week?”  Her eyes settled on him as she paused.  “I’m sorry, I’m babbling.”

He had spooked her.  One step forward, two steps back.  “No worries.”  The vampire made her nervous, he decided.  Nothing to do about that.

Quieter now, Aubrie looked him square in the eye.  The laugh came out in a huff of breath.  A form of cleansing, he mused.  As if nothing else had transpired, she picked up the previous topic of what to do with trouble.  “I’ll manage the same way I handled a covert operation into the Netherworld in search of my warlock, and his nemesis, I suppose.”  Her face took on a faraway look.  “I can still see Nybbas the last time we left the Netherworld.” Grinning, she cut a glance at J.T.

“I know what you mean.”  J.T. stood up before shifting to lean on the door frame.  “I suppose they made the supremely odd couple, what with Nybbas, the wrinkled, green-skinned demon-has-been standing alongside Logan, the warlock, and kick-ass ex-SEAL.”

Aubrie snorted at the mental image.  “You know, I’ve wondered since how we managed to escape unscathed.”  The grin disappeared.  “Then again, I remember why we went back, to begin with.”

There was no need to explain their decision.  J.T. was aware, well aware, of the reason those gathering that evening had crossed the veil.  Logan had gone in search of Nybbas, a mid-level demon with a talent for mind manipulation.  The whole thing started when Logan believed he had been unfaithful to Aubrie.  The dreams about his ex-girlfriend, Connie Calder were so real, they shook his confidence.  Fearing mind manipulation, he crossed over the veil in search of his old adversary, Nybbas.   If anyone could manipulate a mind, it had to be Nybbas.  Instead, Logan found the Sultan, an evil shadow walker turned warlord, in control.  The Nybbas they had known was nothing more than a shell of his former self.

Aubrie’s gaze centered on the darkness outside the French door.  “You know, it’s funny, J.T., but I never expected to find Nybbas, much less, find him in such an altered state of being.  He resembles an elderly grandfatherly type rather than a demon warrior.”  Her eyes filled with tears before she shoved them away.

J.T. remembered what the bastard had done to Aubrie.  The only thing that had changed was who was responsible.  As if on cue, Aubrie rubbed a hand over her belly where Nybbas’ brand remained, a constant reminder of what she had been through.

“If Logan hadn’t found me in time, I would have become a sinister pawn in the Sultan’s unholy game.  Nothing stopped the bastard from altering my mind forever.  For some, that’s what has happened, and there is no going back.  The Sultan’s magic is too strong.”  Her lips thinned into a line.  “To find Nybbas alive and with no memory of his cruel domination over me was hard for Logan to accept.  He wanted retribution.”  Her eyebrows winged up.  “Hard for me as well.  Straightening, she eyed J.T.  It’s a new day.  It’s all changed.  Somehow, The Sultan controlled everything.”  One solitary tear glided down her cheek.

“You know, I’m in awe of you.”

Her eyebrows knit.  “Me, why?”

“Well, you went back after the Logan and Duke solo.  Since Logan told me what happened to you the first time, I can’t blame you for never wanting to go back, but you did.  Then to find Nybbas was less than the monster you hated took the wind out of your sails.  You sucked it up though and took him in rather than toss him aside as the Sultan had.  Katie’s right, you’re stronger than you give yourself credit for.”

“He’s just an old, wrinkled, green man.  I have to admit, finding him like that did throw me for a loop.”  She shivered.  “The sheriff in Cheniere Station charging Logan with Connie’s murder was the last straw.  I knew the answers were over there.  I had no choice.  I had to go back.”  Aubrie sniffed before wiping her eyes.

Figuring she needed a change of subject, he broached a topic he had been hesitant to as Logan about.  “Did the Sultan return with Logan from Afghanistan?” 

The tears trailed down Aubrie’s cheeks.  “Yes, he did.  Logan said he saw him in his dreams for months following his return stateside.  Then the visions started.”

J.T. was no good with tears, especially a woman’s tears.  He rubbed the bridge of his nose.  “That’s all in the past now, Aubrie.”  His voice, carefully modulated, held what he hoped passed for concern.  He couldn’t reach out like he wanted to do, for he dared not touch her.  Her empath skills would rocket her right out of his reach with what she found inside him.  “He has hurt us all, Aubrie.”  Turning to stare out at her view of the pines’ silhouetted against a night sky, J.T. spoke softly.  “The monster came close to killing one of our own, too.”  He referred, of course, to Duke Taylor, the ex-SEAL and J.T.’s Team Six bud.

Aubrie sniffed before answering. “The doctor said he may limp.”  She shook her head slowly.  “He’s lucky to be alive.  A millimeter one way or the other and Duke would have died from the Sultan’s attack.”  Aubrie watched out the window.  “Damn bastard.  I guess that’s what the Sultan wanted.  Another soul collected.”

“He’s after all our souls,” J.T. murmured.

Aubrie stood because she could sit no longer.  “The trouble with writing is you have to focus.”  The laugh was shaky.  Throwing her hands into the air, she strode out the French doors to the deck stretching the length of her house.  “I’m done here.”  Wiping her nose, she walked to the rail.

The laugh trailing after her proved mirthless.  J.T. could feel the pain emanating from her.

A killer view lay before her.  “This always helps,” she murmured.  Wrapping her arms around her chilled chest, she closed her eyes and breathed in the clean, cold air of early December.  “Christmas is coming,” she mumbled into the icy air.  “My wedding too.” She shook her head.  “I won’t let him get in the way of my wedding again.”

J.T. remembered, Logan and she had postponed everything when Duke had come back in critical condition.

“The gods save us from ever having to set foot in that place again,” she whispered.  A shudder slipped past her guard.  “I won’t go back, ever.”  The vow sounded solid.

J.T. knew how much faith to put in such a statement.  None.  “If the Sultan has his way, one of us or all will have to go after his sorry ass.  Then we’ll face my former master with all the magic and firepower we can muster.”  His words hung between them.  J.T. saw the fear in her eyes.

Glancing down, Aubrie watched her hands clench into fists atop the rail of the deck.

J.T. saw the same mental image she did.  One of a young girl, her dark eyes huge in her young face flashed in his mind’s eye.

“Don’t worry, Meagan.  We’ll save your family.  Logan’s working on a spell now.  It won’t be long, I promise.”  Aubrie dropped her eyes to her hands on the rail as she finished the statement.

Aubrie’s words, barely audible, pushed at J.T. resolve to remain detached.  His years as a Navy SEAL gave him training ingrained into his DNA to compartmentalize his life.  Surprise filtered through his dead system as a pain. One as real as the prick of a knife’s blade caught him in the chest.  Rubbing the sensation away, J.T. cursed low at the affront. 

Aubrie smiled weakly.  “It’s okay.  I understand my wish is fleeting.  Reality can be a bitch sometimes, that’s all.”

Before he could respond, J.T. caught a glimpse out of the corner of his eye.

“There’s my pretty fiancé.”  Logan’s sultry voice came to her on the breeze which scattered the remainder of the dried leaves on the deck in a whirlwind.

“Lodi,” J.T. called out.  “Did we wake you?”  The use of his former team member’s nickname carried a weight greater than most understood.  Logan had saved his ass more times than he cared to count.  J.T. owed him big time.

Scratching at the back of his head, Logan grunted.  “No, I woke up when I couldn’t find you, Sugar.”  His gaze skimmed Aubrie.

“You make a nice entrance warlock.”  Straightening before meeting his gaze, she smiled.  With her best come-hither look, Aubrie wrapped her arms around him.

It didn’t take J.T. long to sense their unspoken language.  Better to block the signals they shared between them.  Curious though, he wondered, how much of the attraction between them was despite or maybe because of Logan’s magical powers.  As a seer, surely, Aubrie could tell when Logan was mixing in magic.  He shook his head to clear the image.  “I better be getting back,” he said, inclining his head toward the darkness where the portal stood.

“No need to rush, J.T.”  Logan pulled Aubrie closer.  “You want some coffee?”  Logan’s eyes didn’t match the question.

J.T. took the hint.  No, I’m good.  You know, we vampires are night owls.”  Because neither of them acknowledged him, he figured they were too engrossed in each other to catch his wry analogy.  “Well, I’ll see you guys later.  No telling how many have slipped through while I was up here.”

“All right then, J.T.   Go save worlds and battle demons, vampire.”  Logan winked over Aubrie’s head.  “I’ve had my fill of demon work for one day.  Mostly the greasy kind.”

Understanding Logan’s reference to his workday at his brother, Gus’ garage, J.T. grinned.  He saw the way Aubrie relaxed in her lover’s hold.  Logan’s warlock’s eyes gleamed emerald in the inky black surrounding them.

“My hero,” she said as she wrapped her arms around him once more.  “You’re the bravest of the brave to face Gus and his lair filled with broken and misunderstood relics from the past.”

Logan’s chuckle vibrated against her cheek as she rested against his muscled chest.  “Ah, but it makes me happy.  No more missions overseas to contemplate, isn’t that right J.T?”

J.T. grunted.  He got Logan’s dry-witted attempt at reminding her once again how much he appreciated his present position as opposed to his former one as a Navy SEAL.  Feeling like a voyeur, J.T. glanced away.

“Just the everyday pleasure of sinking my arms elbow deep in motor oil soothes my soul.”  The grin was for Aubrie only as Logan bent to kiss her on the crown of her head.  “Want a midnight snack?”

Aubrie leaned back slowly, scrutinizing Logan’s hungry gaze.  “That depends.  What did you have in mind, warlock.”

Growling deep in his throat, Logan bent, scooping her up in his arms.  “Let’s start with an appetizer.  How does a few minutes alone with yours truly sound?”

“Did you peek into my thoughts?  Or, are you just feeling lucky tonight?”

Pursuing his lips as he gazed at her, Logan chuckled.  “I’d say I’m lucky tonight.”  He wiggled his eyebrows for her benefit.

The wicked grin Logan shot J.T. heightened his discomfort.  “Okay, you two.  Get a room, or go back to your room or whatever, I’m out of here.”  He waved away their laughter as he turned to go.  Glad for the exit excuse, he refused to let them see his envy over their kissy-face banter.  “I’m getting queasy.”

Logan’s voice trailed after him.  “Sorry, bro.  Three’s a crowd.  Catch you tomorrow night?”

J.T. threw up a hand in dismissal.  “Yeah, sure.  I’m out of here.”  With the gushy laughter floating back to him, he headed down the steps.  A mental picture of Aubrie and Logan wrapped in a loving embrace did not help his disquiet.  Night watch could be a bummer, he mused.  He had been on enough night watches to last him an eternity.  On the other hand, what did he have waiting for him at home?  The cat could take him or leave him.  Simple as that.

His thoughts steered in the wrong direction.  J.T. had once had a connection with Jessie, like the one Aubrie and Logan shared, hadn’t he?   As the frozen ground crunched under his boots, he rehashed his dilemma yet again.  A vampire did not have the right to love someone.  There was sex, and it was good, but strictly for personal gratification, nothing more.  To love someone was a formula for eternal heartache.

Glancing back up the hill as the lights went out, he ground down on his molars.  In less than two weeks, Logan and Aubrie would be man and wife.  He was happy for them.  Truly he was.  The image of Jessie and he did not signal wedding bells in his dead man’s brain.  There was no future with Jessie.  It was selfish of him to crave such a thing.  He could not put her through the hell of growing old without him and expect everything to be a piece of cake.  No, he would not do it, not even for the love of Jessie.

***

Darkness fell the next evening like an old friend.  The familiar shroud of night enveloped J.T. as the sun had once charged his system.  Preparations for the Netherworld recon were underway.  The mission was to be a quick in and out.  If things went as planned, he would be back the following night.

“You have everything you need?” Logan asked.

“Yeah,” J.T. said.  Arriving as the sun set, he had assisted Logan in packing the equipment necessary for the trip.  “I appreciate the firepower you and Gus put together.  Have you gone through the portal with any of these bombs before?”

“Yeah, they hold up well.  Just make sure you don’t take a direct hit from any incoming shots, and you should be good.” 

“That’s all?” J.T. sarcasm dripped like honey off his words.  He couldn’t help the quip.

“It is what it is.”  Logan shrugged.  “Want to back out?”

 

“Are you kidding?  And miss the chance at old badass himself.  Not a chance.”

At the portal, they stopped.  The entrance to the veil between worlds rested in a weeded area behind Aubrie’s house.  A pretty non-descript location, J.T. mused.  Maybe that was the point.  Sensing rather than seeing the portal was a perk, he decided.  Another perk of being a vampire.  Perhaps he would be able to recognize another such phenomenon once he was there.   

“As I mentioned before, guarding the portal, well it’s a necessity since the Sultan’s arrival.”  Logan handed off the explosives in the muted green/gray backpack.  “You’ll see lots of them as you enter the tunnel, so don’t be spooked.”  He raised a slim finger.  “Sorry for the pun.  They’re just refugees, like those in Afghanistan.  The influx is on the rise, and from what we’ve seen, fewer are returning, so that means, things over there are getting worse.  Our world is like freedom for those who can still function mentally.  I will tell you to be on your guard, though.  Suicide warriors the Sultan has created are slipping through.”  He glanced at an emerging spirit.  “Vetting has become a full-time job.  By the way, thanks for your assistance with the graveyard shift last night.  We all take turns, even Meagan, so another pair of eyes is appreciated.  Most nights, Gus and I watch.  We see better in the dark.  Since you’re a night owl too, that helps.”

“I didn’t have much trouble out of the walkers last night?”  J.T. adjusted his backpack filled with the essentials for the journey.  Stakes and bombs.  A pack of pig’s blood wrapped in one of Aubrie’s insulated bags for sustenance while he was on recon.  “Glad to help.  I have my way of dealing with bloodsuckers though.”

Logan nodded.  “Good, but things are brewing.  You can feel it in the air.  The eyes are truly the windows to the souls of these walkers.  Hard to keep the truth from showing, especially when you’re dead.  They are scared, and it shows.”

J.T. straightened before huffing out a breath. “Well, touché, bro.  Can you see my undead fear?”

“I didn't include you in that observation,” Logan shot back.

“I know.  Sorry, can’t help giving you a hard time is all.”  J.T. glanced at the portal.  “You’d think the Sultan would camouflage the recruits.”

“Yeah, but they simply pass through without realizing they’re divulging anything more than their names and points of origin.”  Logan glanced at another fleeing spirit. “It’s not a treasure trove of intel.  Most of what we’re getting is useless to the mission.  Still, if you witness anything suspicious, let me know.”

“Just like old times.”  J.T. grinned before nodding.  “Any place you’d like me to start?  A hotspot of activity maybe?”

Logan’s eyes narrowed in consideration.  “If the past trips are any indication, the portal opens at the base of Nybbas’ mansion.  The place is a front for clandestine activity.  Keep your eyes out for slave warriors.  He’s creating them by the thousands if the travel from that side to this is any indication.”

“My pleasure.  I’ve killed my fair share of warriors already.  I think I can handle those guys.”

“I don’t want you doing anything stupid, okay?”

J.T. brow winged up.  “Stupid?  You’re kidding, right?  I haven’t done anything stupid since that night in the sandbox.” Referring to the night, they lost Luke in Afghanistan, the vampire grinned confidently.  “I’m a Navy SEAL, lieutenant.  You of all people should know we don’t do stupid things.”

“Yeah, right.”  Logan slapped him on the shoulder.  “Be safe.  I don’t know how much we’ll be able to help from here.  So, don’t take chances.”

Giving his friend and Navy bud a salute, J.T.’s lips curved.  “Copy that, sir.”  With a wink and a cocky grin, J.T. wheeled before disappearing.

***

A sooty fog hung heavy over the entrance to The Netherworld.  J.T. wished for a clearer picture of the inside of the veil between the worlds.  The fates had other ideas.  The sense of being drawn forward warred with his instinct for control.  The path was made up of alabaster and crunched under his boots.  The electrical charge set the hairs along his arms to attention like tiny ants on a march.  When J.T. glanced back, he found the portal gone.  The sensation of loss edged his consciousness, like a cloud cutting off the sun’s rays.  Up ahead he saw an opening.  Beyond was Nybbas’ mansion.

  Stepping toward the structure Logan mentioned, J.T. examined Nybbas’ home.  The mansion was of 19th-century design with columns liberally covered in ivy and built like a fortress. He felt the slight tug of the shield seconds before he slipped through the heavy paneled front door.  Apparently, the force field was for mortals only.  The Sultan didn’t want the pesky nuisance of dealing with his own security system.  As a vampire, he appreciated walking through the solid material with ease too, J.T. mused.

The foyer was done in heavy extravagance leaning toward tawdry.  Gilded and draped, plants and velvets lounged everywhere.  A bit stifled by the display, J.T. headed for the parlor.  Here at least the meager outside light brightened the heavy, overdone décor.  Consciously avoiding the light, his eyes took in the elaborate portrait hanging above the massive marble fireplace.  The Sultan’s smirk of superiority spoke volumes.  A momentary pang of frustration lodged in his chest.  The one thing which kept him going was envisioning a reckoning, and it would be sweet.  Stepping to a sideboard, he lifted a decanter of single malt whiskey.  Pouring three fingers in a tumbler, he surveyed the room.  Things could hide in full view in such a place.  He sensed a presence even now.  Turning slowly, he utilized his vision to seek out another being within the confines of the walls.  A warm-blooded body stood perfectly still to his right next to the fireplace.  A statue of stone, he mused.  Perhaps, but behind the walnut panel, he could hear a heartbeat.  Alive!  Perhaps mortal.  Not wanting to startle the being, J.T. strolled to the opposite side of the room.

An idle examination of the gilded artwork ensued.  The being’s heat signal increased.  Fear could do that to a human.  As a vampire, he had witnessed the same many times.  At first, the idea of a human lurking in the wall sounded foolish until he recalled Logan mentioning the girl, Meagan and how he and Duke found her behind the wall of the ballroom.  Apparently, she had spied on them using an old-fashion, early 20th-century movie camera.  Maybe the mingling of centuries was the Sultan’s way of keeping the curious off their stride.

The air whistled through a few dozen cracks in the wall, and J.T. caught a scent, one which stirred his heart for a second.  Unexpectedly, the search became very personal.  His throat thickened as he called her name.  “Jessie?”

A meager cry, like that of a cornered bird, came from the dark interior between rooms.  Wood scraped wood and feet moved in quick succession.  Rather than loss the chance, J.T. stepped through the wall.  Dark as pitch, the narrow passage was damp and musty.  Groping in the darkness, he touched flesh and bone and clamped down hard.

The whimper turned frantic as the trapped bird tried to flee.  A sharp pain made him flinch in response.  Teeth sank into his forearm.  A moment past before he realized, the bite was real.  J.T.’s angry growl filled the tiny space.  More whimpers before a well-placed knee sent him crumbling to his knees.  The scurry of feet fleeing dissipated to nothing as J.T. gasped for air.

Thank the gods the pain ebbed quickly.  Where had she gone?  Following the scent, J.T. came up short within forty feet.  The trail ended abruptly.  “Jessie!”  His voice reverberated off the walls.  Engaging the sight, he cursed his forgetfulness in not using the talent when he had her in hand.  Now, she was gone.

Stilling, J.T. rested a moment against the dank wall of the hollow passage.  He had touched her.  His Jessie.  The roar startled the pigeons roosting on the roof.  “Jessie!”

***

Jessie whirled. She had lost him.  Not even breathing, she waited.  Her name howled in pain sounded eerie.  Jessie shoved at her hair as she searched the darkness for another call from J.T.  Blinking in the dim light of the shallow hole she’d fed into, she decided her safety was short lived.  Had to get out.  Had to get back.  But how?  Her mind raced with the nerves rippling up and down her spine, like tiny spider’s feet.  What was J. T. Leighton doing in the mansion of the Netherworld?  Working with adrenalin, she listened.  No sound came to her.  She didn’t have time for a reunion.

Holding the amulet hanging from the gold chain around her neck, Jessie spoke the words necessary to leave the mansion.  Light streaked past as she left her hiding place before shifting in time.  Flashes of brilliant fire sped past at lighting fast speed.  The wind whipped her clothing like a tornado bent on destruction.  The gravitational pull on her body quelled any movement or sound.  Luckily, she was able to breathe.  She closed her eyes to the mala.  Having performed this mode of travel countless times before, she marveled at the exhilaration she experienced every time she moved from one place to another.  Time travel – a fanciful talent provided characters within the pages of fiction.  Jessie knew otherwise.

Materializing in the middle of the dark gave a person the willies.  The jungle of the Netherworld held such gloom.  By now, Jessie expertly found her way without hesitation.  She had traveled from the mansion to the hovels of the slave camp many times. In the skin of Rocco, the camp leader, she was afforded a strength Jessie did not possess.  As a guardian, she was a self-proclaimed watchdog for the poor souls enslaved there.  She was grateful for the power of Rocco.  Not a night went by that some misguided adventurer didn’t find their way into the Sultan’s trap, becoming his latest victim.  Like flies to bate, he lured them in.

Her self-guided mission became saving those she could from his grasp.  The fact so many slipped through her fingers hurt in a very personal manner, for the image of her parents, hostages of the Sultan’s, was like a festering wound in her side.  So far, Jessie had not been unable to locate his prison.

Glancing over her shoulder, she found no sign of J.T.  Her heart thudded in her chest.  She had touched him.  But not J.T. – not like she remembered.    No, he was not the same man she had fallen in love with before.  Unable to put the finger on the reason, she leaned against a tree, breathing hard and wiping sweat from her brow.  A few seconds passed before the realization came to her.  The last two years had carved a new hardness into his features.  An indrawn breath and she found one thing she was sure of - the fact her body still remembered his voice.

How foolish the idea, her brain complained?  From the gloom, the jungle’s creatures called out to her.  It was the distraction she needed.  The bitter little laugh was her moment of self-indulgence.  Closing her eyes, Jessie concentrated on regaining her calm.  No, he was not here to hurt anyone, or he would have done so back at the mansion.  This much she understood.  Could she trust him?  Time would tell, she decided. 

Continuing the trek back to the encampment, Jessie considered J.T.’s reaction to finding her in the walls of the mansion.  The shock must have been the reason he failed to keep her pinned because the strength in his hands was impressive.  She would be more prepared when they met again.  Contemplating things as she walked, Jessie shoved at the memories of the feel of his arms around her.  A glance back proved she was alone.  A twig snapped underfoot.  Jessie whirled to examine the darkness behind her once more.  The mental image of his reaction to finding her spying was not something she enjoyed.  But necessity dictated her actions these days.  “What are you up to, J.T.?”  Frowning at her own question, she slowed.  The perimeter of the encampment came into view.  She stepped from the shadows into the burgeoning light as Rocco.