Phantom Shadows

So, as she stared down at his chart, she couldn’t understand why she felt . . . unnerved? Was that what she was feeling?



After those kisses Bastien had delivered, she should be floating several inches above the floor, eagerly anticipating the next.



Instead, she fidgeted in her seat and kept feeling almost as if someone were standing in the corner, watching her. Twice she’d caught herself gnawing on the inside of her cheek, a nervous habit that tended to resurface whenever she was troubled.



Melanie set her pen down and looked around her office again. Nothing out of place. No spooky shadows drew her eyes to corners. She had been having a hard time reading lately (and was too stubborn to admit she might need reading glasses—she was too young, damn it!), so she’d installed the highest-wattage bulbs she could find overhead. All was as bright as a sunny afternoon outdoors. Her peace lilies and bamboo plants thrived and provided cheerful color. As did her kitten calendar.



Tiny ripples of foreboding nipped at her feet like waves at a beach.



What was it? Was it Bastien? Had something happened to him?



Reaching for the phone, she dialed his cell.



“Hello?”



“Hi. It’s me.”



“Hi. Is Stuart settled in?”



“Yes. He even met Mr. Reordon, who was surprisingly friendly.”



“Good.”



“Is everything okay there?”



“Yes. It’s been quiet as hell actually. Why? What’s wrong?”



“Nothing.”



“No, really. What’s wrong? I can hear it in your voice. Something’s troubling you.”



She sighed. “I just . . . feel sort of like I did before those soldiers shot me and . . . everything’s fine here, so I thought you might be in trouble or something. I don’t know. I feel stupid now for bothering you.”



“First, you aren’t bothering me.”



“He was mooning over you again,” Richart said in the background.



Melanie laughed. “Hi, Richart.”



“Ignore him,” Bastien implored. “Second, are you having a premonition?”



“Dr. Lipton is a gifted one?” she heard Lisette ask.



“Hi, Lisette,” Melanie said.



“Would a little privacy be too much to ask?” Bastien demanded.



“Oui,” Lisette retorted. “Hello, Dr. Lipton. Are you a gifted one?”



“Yes.”



“Merveilleuse!”



“That does it.” A moment passed. A breeze came over the line. “Okay. Talk quickly before they find me. I’m on the other side of campus.”



Though Melanie smiled, that low hum of danger continued to strum through her.



“What’s going on?” Bastien continued, his warm voice full of concern.



How could the others not see the good in him?



“Nothing. Everything is quiet here. I just feel . . . anxious . . . like something is going to happen. Are you sure there aren’t any soldiers there? Could they be hiding again?”



“No soldiers. We’ve been teleporting from campus to campus, checking them out with the thermal vision scopes Chris gave us. We’ve checked every roof, every alcove, every damn tree and shrubbery, and have only encountered civilians. We haven’t even come across any vampires. I don’t know if word got out about what happened at Duke and they’re lying low or what.”



“Well . . . maybe it’s nothing. Maybe I’m just tired.”



“Trust your instincts. If—”



A thunderous boom drowned out whatever Bastien said next. The room around Melanie shook so violently she dropped the phone and had to grab hold of her desk to keep from falling to the floor. Pieces of sheetrock dropped like stones from the ceiling as cracks formed in the walls.



Heart racing, Melanie scrambled to pick up the phone. “Bastien?”



“Melanie? What happened?”



“Something’s wrong! I think—”



Another boom. The room quaked, rocked her from side to side, and tossed her to the floor. She rolled over and got to her hands and knees.



What the hell could rock a building that extended five stories underground?



The room plunged into darkness. Dimmer reserve lighting flared to life. Alarms blared.



“Code red! Code red!” Mr. Reordon shouted over the building’s intercom system.



Oh crap. That was the call to evacuate via the underground tunnel. Were they under attack?



Melanie saw the phone she’d dropped a few feet away and scrambled over to pick it up.



Broken. Great.



Thunder rumbled almost constantly above, created by explosions, not weather.



Melanie clambered to her feet and staggered across the vibrating floor toward the door. A form appeared in front of her.



Screaming, she rebounded off Bastien’s chest as he and Richart teleported into her office.



Bastien caught her by the arms and steadied her. “It’s okay. It’s okay. What’s going on?”



“I don’t know.”



He and Richart looked toward the ceiling, then met each other’s gaze.



“I’ll get Lisette.” Richart vanished.



“What is it? What’s happening?” Melanie shouted over the noise.



“The fucking mercenaries are attacking! They’re blowing the place to hell!”



“What? How did they—”



“Stuart,” Bastien said, his expression darkening.



Richart and Lisette appeared. Richart vanished again as Bastien ushered Melanie out into the hallway.



Guards urged the other network employees toward the far end of the hallway. Already at the dead end, Todd fiddled with something in his hand, yelled, “Fire in the hole!” and detonated a charge, blowing a huge, jagged opening in the wall and revealing a cement escape tunnel.



“Lanie!”



Melanie turned and saw one of the guards steering Linda past.



“I’m fine. Keep going!”



She nodded, face pinched with fear, and was soon swallowed by the mass of men and women flowing toward Todd.



Bastien curled an arm around Melanie’s shoulders and cut a path across the stream of moving bodies, leading Melanie to the door of Stuart’s apartment. “Open it,” he ordered grimly.



Hands shaking, she fumbled for her security card. Déjà vu. Swiping the card, she entered the code as Lisette stepped up behind them.



Bastien threw the heavy steel door open as though it were hollowed-out plywood.



Stuart stood across the living room. Eyes wide, he backed away as Bastien and Lisette stalked toward him. “I didn’t do it! I swear! I didn’t lead them here!”



“Then how the hell did they find us?” Bastien demanded.



“I don’t know! I don’t know!”



“Wait.” Lisette halted Bastien. “He’s telling the truth. He has no memory of interacting with the mercenaries.”



“He wouldn’t if he let them drug him afterward.”



Lisette’s eyes narrowed. Her eyes glowed brighter.



Stuart winced and gripped his head. “Ahh! What are you doing?”



“Your memories are still there. The drug has merely hidden them from you. I intend to find them.”



Melanie bit her lip as Stuart tugged his hair, his face creased with pain.



The building continued to shake with blasts. Pieces of the ceiling fell like snow.



Was it true? Had Stuart betrayed them? Had he made a deal with the soldiers, then let them drug him?



“How could he have told them where we are?” she asked. “He has no way of communicating with them. No phone. No walkie-talkie.”



“I don’t know,” Bastien said. Face set in stone, he watched the vamp writhe as Lisette riffled through his thoughts. “But he found a way.”



“You said you searched him before you brought him here.”



“I must have missed something. Anything yet?” he asked Lisette.



“No. There’s nothing between his running from the mercenaries and his waking up in the shed.”



“There must be something! Because they sure as hell didn’t follow us from my lair. We teleported!”



“There’s a chip,” Richart spoke behind Melanie.



She spun around. “What?”



Clothing torn, rumpled, and stained with blood, he nodded at the vamp, who abruptly stopped moaning. “I heard the mercenaries talking. There’s a chip implanted just beneath the skin.”



“Where? I didn’t see anything when I examined him.”



“Under his hair at the base of his skull.”



Eyes wide, Stuart reached up to touch the back of his head.



Bastien palmed a dagger and strode toward him.



Stuart shook his head frantically. “Bullshit!” His voice rose an octave as he scrambled backward, bumped into a wall, and skidded sideways. “That’s bullshit! I didn’t help them!”



“It’s true,” Richart said. “He didn’t get away when they tranqed him. He passed out. They implanted the chip, then stuck him in the garden shed so he would think he did get away. All they had to do then was wait for us to take the bait.”



Melanie jumped when Bastien suddenly shot forward in a blur and caught Stuart. He overpowered the boy’s struggles with ease. Lisette crossed to the duo and took the dagger from Bastien.



When she ran her fingers through the vamp’s dark hair, then angled the dagger to remove the chip, Melanie looked away from the kid’s fear-filled face.



Richart dialed his cell phone and swore. “Why is Seth so fucking hard to reach?”



“Because so many need him,” his sister replied drolly as the building shook again.



Stuart howled.



Richart shoved his phone back in his pocket. “I already teleported Étienne in. He’s trying to hold down the fort on the ground until there are enough of us to start a counterassault. They’ve got fucking shoulder-fired missiles up there. Grenades. Too many mercenaries to count. Lisette, help Chris evacuate the mortals.”



“Hell no!” She handed Bastien his bloody dagger and the chip she’d removed, then zipped over to her brother’s side. “I’m going with you.”