Khaki-colored pants, combat-style with multiple pockets, and a tan tank top completed her ensemble along with a long-sleeved shirt in the same color, which she wore unbuttoned. She did a final walk-through to be sure everything she needed was back in her duffel, then for about two minutes, she considered making herself some breakfast. That thought was discarded immediately in favor of a quick trip to the communal kitchen, which was handily located right next to the barracks. It wasn’t her mama’s cooking, but it wasn’t bad either.
She was just hitting the outside stairs when her phone rang. She looked down at the display and smiled. “Casales.”
“We’re on the ground in Barcelona,” Brian said, not bothering with niceties. He and the others had been activated, which meant it was time for business, and their business was deadly serious. “On our way to you. I figure an hour, no more.”
“Good.”
“Anything new happen?”
“No. It’s quiet here so far, but my instincts are telling me that won’t last.” She considered warning him about the involvement of magic, but that was a longer conversation. She imagined his reaction not only to the existence of sorcerers, but to the idea that one was tied up in this affair, would be the same as hers.
“Understood. See you soonest.”
She disconnected and shoved the phone into a pocket, then began her morning survey of the wall, stopping to answer questions, or just talk. She made a point of seeking out the walking wounded who’d recovered enough, or whose injuries had been light enough, to resume their duties. She’d stopped at the hospital and heard Nowak’s report on yesterday’s injured—both hospitalized and not. She’d been relieved to learn that the most seriously wounded were all making excellent recoveries, thanks in no small part to a late night visit by Xavier, even though he’d told her he wasn’t going. And damn if that didn’t make it more difficult to hate him.
It irritated her that she was even thinking about him, much less having trouble hating him. She wanted to put it down to exhaustion, but knew it was more. She was bothered by their trek into the forest last night, and how easy it had been to remain civil, even when he’d told her about his investigation into the use of magic by their enemy. She had to admit that her initial anger that he’d withheld such an important piece of intel had been blown away by the revelation that sorcerers and magic were real. For fuck’s sake, could this operation get any more complicated? And then she’d gone and kissed him. It was as if the universe had decided to have a bit of fun at her expense, to push her and Xavier together and see what happened. The chemistry between them was as electric as ever. She’d have sworn there were literal sparks flying whenever they got too close. As if they each gave off a different chemical, and when circumstance brought them within a certain physical distance . . . boom! Sparks flew and an explosion ensued, resulting in bad decisions and unwise sexual intercourse. She supposed for some people, chemistry was a good thing, but all she’d ever gotten was a broken heart.
She stopped at the back wall and studied the distant trees, looking for anyone who shouldn’t have been there. She couldn’t see all of it. Xavier’s property stretched for acres and while he was a good neighbor, he was also very particular about maintaining his privacy. Vampires had long memories to go with their long lives, and it wasn’t that long ago that they’d been hunted and murdered in their sleep.
Finding nothing, which was no more than she’d expected, she exchanged a quick word with the two guards patrolling that quadrant, then continued around the other side until she’d walked the entire distance around the Fortalesa’s wall and was approaching the gate. A rush of childish voices had her turning to look down into the courtyard. The morning cluster of children were heading for the fifteen-passenger van that was the Fortalesa’s version of a school bus. These were the youngest students, nine of them who looked to be from around six to eleven years of age. There were older students, too, but their school day began much earlier, and since a few of them were able to drive, they took turns ferrying each other in a fire-engine red minivan. They all could have been educated privately within the Fortalesa, rather than traveling to the nearest town, but the parents and Xavier had long ago decided in favor of the socialization provided by the schools, along with a decent education.
The number of children living within the Fortalesa was small compared to, say, a modest town of the same population. But the Fortalesa wasn’t typical. At any given time, at least a third of the people living there were vampires, and even a few of them had children, either adopted or brought into the family by their chosen mates. Being a vampire didn’t automatically take away the desire to raise a family.
In a very real sense, however, the vampires themselves functioned as a large family. Vamps tended to prefer living in groups, for protection if nothing else, but within those groups there was a connection as strong as any human familial bond. And within the Fortalesa, that bond had been extended to include most human residents, but especially the children.
Vampires were the product of their making and socialization after they were turned. And that was largely a function of the vampire who turned them, which in this case was Xavier. There were definitely some in the Fortalesa who’d been turned by someone else, but those few had taken blood oaths to Xavier, which bound them to him as their master in a very real sense, as in literal life or death. But the oaths were more than that. For all that Layla thought Xavier was an asshole, she acknowledged the powerful sense of loyalty that tied him to his people. If the vampires of the Fortalesa ever went to war, Xavier wouldn’t be in a secure place giving orders over the radio. He’d be leading them from the very front of the pack.
Smiling at the children’s happy chatter, she set aside thoughts of Xavier and turned to study the surrounding forest and the long, empty road beyond the gate. It was so quiet this morning, in contrast to yesterday’s battle—the non-stop rattle of gunfire, the cries of the wounded and curses of the fighters. And then the abrupt silence as the attackers simply faded away. Before last night, she’d very briefly considered, and immediately discarded, the fantastic idea that the attackers were ghosts.
But now, she wasn’t sure the reality was any better. Their enemy wasn’t a ghost, but he was a sorcerer who could . . . teleport, she supposed one could call it, his fighters out of danger in such a way that not even Xavier could follow. She wondered if Xavier had enough power to stop the teleport from occurring. After all, magical energy was still energy. Maybe Xavier could toss a virtual grenade of his own power against the sorcerer’s and break up the . . . spell or whatever it was that created the teleport. That could be one of the reasons their enemy only attacked in daytime. Magic or not, if the attack had come during the night, the vamps would have wiped the field clean in a matter of hours. But daytime attacks also stopped Xavier from matching his strength against that of the sorcerer. Did Xavier know who the sorcerer was? He’d said his vamps were looking, but he’d never specifically said he didn’t know the enemy.