Kill Wilson (Petersburg Vampires) (7 page)

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As the months slid
by, it was obvious to Silas that Amp was as talented in the art of killing as
any he had trained. Secretly he wondered if he could defeat her on a one-on-one
battle. He hoped it would never come to that.

It had been close to a year when Morgan invited Amp to
his personal quarters, Amp finding Silas and Amy waiting for her as she entered
the living room. After greetings, Amp took a seat, hoping with all her heart
that Morgan was going to go to war with her.

“I have a proposal for you, Amp, and you have all the
time to think about it you want. First of all, we’ve been doing an in depth
workup of Beryl Wilson’s business dealings. He is involved in several shady
enterprises, things that should be shut down for the betterment of everybody
concerned. But he also has a few very lucrative investments, and his annual
gross earnings from these dealings are roughly 15 million dollars. That’s not
chicken feed…rather impressive for someone of Wilson’s sort.”

Amp was amazed that the Alaskan vampire lord had
legitimate businesses. He was a blight on the race, a dishonor to all vampires,
and she was anticipating Morgan’s offer of a takeover; and death to the Wilson
tribe.

“Now my
proposal is this, Amp, and
please think
about it carefully. Silas feels that your accelerated
training has brought tremendous results. He has recommended that you join the
warrior class of our coven, and continue working with him, not as a trainee,
but as an instructor. He feels your talent could greatly benefit our coven.”

Amp was trying to follow the conversation, was pleased
that Silas thought highly of her fighting ability, but the conversation was
taking on a very careful tone. She had a forbearance of bad news.

“I know your hope was that this coven would go to war with
you against Wilson, Amp. We talked about it, the costs in money, in lives, and
the trouble of running the Wilson business in Alaska. We have
decided…unanimously…that we are not willing to fight that fight. My offer
instead is that you join our team, our family and that you take your place here
as a warrior, therefore giving you a stable home, protection, and a sound
foundation for your future.”

Her voice was calm and perfectly clear despite the inner turmoil
and disappointment.

“No thank you, Lord Morgan. I told you when the time was
right, I would be returning to Alaska to deal with Wilson. I appreciate your generous
offer and your kind hospitality for the past year, but I’ll be leaving soon.
I’ve got work to do, and then I’m going to complete my obligation.”

Lord Morgan spoke in a resigned tone. “I’m sorry to hear
that, Amp…but certainly not surprised. Good luck on your venture, and we will
always be here. And my offer will always be on the table for you.”

------

Amy tried one last time to talk Amp into staying, wasting
her breath as the younger girl packed her things. She had a large canvas duffle
filled with the clothes and personal items she had gathered since arriving in
California, plus several small weapons that had been gifts from Silas during
their training sessions.

Amy looked at the girl, amazed that such a young,
innocent looking girl had become a lethal killing machine. Silas had mentioned
many times over the past several months that Amy would hold her own against
almost anyone in the world.

“I’m grateful to you guys, Amy, I really am. You rescued
me, took me in, and trained me. My goal from the beginning was Wilson, and with
or without you, I’m going back there and taking him out.”

“So where do you go from here?” Amy asked.

“Not sure. I have someone in Portland I need to see…and a
place called Skagit Valley in

Washington.”

“I’m here for you, Amp; always will be. Call if you need
me.”

A car pulled up to the door of the guest cabin, and Amp
was surprised to see Silas get out of the driver’s side. She had requested a
ride to the airport, not expecting her friend to be her driver.

”Hey girl, ready to roll?”

He held her eyes, maybe attempting to see inside her
head. This girl was special, and Silas was scared that she was rushing toward a
suicide mission. He knew from the first day she had shown up at his gym that
she wouldn’t be staying. Most vamps would have called it a day with regard to
Wilson, licked their wounds, and got on with their existence. Silas had
recognized the honor within this one, and when she talked about taking Wilson
on, he had no doubt that she would try it.

As the car pulled out of Morgan’s compound, Amp waved
once to Amy, then settled back in the seat, not altogether sure where this
adventure was taking her. Her heart told her to go back to Portland, and look
for the girl that had been haunting her dreams. Her brain was going a different
direction, knowing that she needed to find some allies if she were to have any
chance in Alaska.

“No way I can talk you into staying?” Silas asked,
looking at her in the rear view mirror. “We’d make a hell of a team.”

“It’s a great offer, and I’m probably a fool for turning
it down,” she began. “I have an obligation, Silas. And for the life of me, I
can’t understand Lord Morgan’s decision. Danner and Riley were friends of his,
and aside from that, there’s money up there that would make it worthwhile.”

She was angry, but was carefully speaking in an even
tone, having no desire to burn any bridges here in L.A. These vampires had been
kind to her, maybe even had saved her from disaster. She wanted to part on good
terms.

“Try to understand how the vampire mind works, Amp, at
least the mind of a sire, the leader of a coven. Morgan has many obligations,
and he takes each one serious. The one that is most important to him is the
safety and prosperity of his people. The same feelings Danner had for you. It
didn’t come down to Morgan’s friendships; it came down to numbers…how many
warriors might he lose versus the amount of money he would be taking. The
numbers didn’t translate to a large profit, and he passed. It was a fairly
emotionless decision, Amp; nothing personal…just business.”

Amp didn’t trust herself to answer, knew that anything
she said now would be taken out of context later. The two were silent the rest
of the drive, Silas quietly pulling the car up to the airport terminal. Turning
around in his seat, Silas spoke softly.

“In all situations, Amp, play the helpless little girl
card. Make that a part of your persona. Do not broadcast the fact that you are
a warrior. The surprise advantage will be priceless. Let people know you are a
killing machine at the moment you take them, not a second sooner. Here, I don’t
know how you’ll get it on a plane, but I know your glamour game is pretty
solid. Stick it in your bag and check it through.
A gift from
me.
Use it to send the bad guys to hell.”

Amp reached out for the ancient Samurai sword that had
hung in Silas’s home. It was the most beautiful weapon that Amp had ever seen;
a mixture of perfect craftsmanship and lethalness. Silas had explained to her
one night that he had defeated a Samurai warrior in a long ago battle, and the
warrior had requested Silas take his head with his own sword. It had been a
different world, and an act of extreme honor.

“Thank you, Silas. I will care for it with my life.”

“I know you will, Amp.
 
When you decide to go, would you please let me
know beforehand? Maybe talk over your attack plan, allow me to point out any
weaknesses?”

Opening her door, she smiled at Silas, nodding her head.
“Sure, Silas, we’ll talk. Thanks for everything.”

She was gone in the crowd, leaving the teacher wondering
if he would ever see her again.

------

Changing planes in San Francisco, Amp had but 25 minutes
to catch her connection to Portland. As she jogged through the airport, wishing
she could use her vampire speed, she passed a well built good looking man with
a military buzz cut and the bearing of a soldier walking away from a gate, his
mind on locating the baggage claim, but his eyes constantly scanning the crowd
as if looking for trouble.

Anrio Peron had just returned from a successful mission
in the Middle East, a freelance job funded by a group of anonymous Israelis.
The job had gone well, and the money was excellent, but the former Army Ranger
wasn’t sure where the next dollar would come from, although he knew there were
many mercenary jobs floating around out there for somebody of his particular
pedigree.

His problem with this type of work was he wasn’t fighting
for a cause, unless one considered cash a cause. After eleven years in the
Army, he was more soldier than man, and his separation from the military had
left a huge void in his soul that mercenary work couldn’t come close to
filling. Grabbing his suitcase, he caught the shuttle for long-term parking, finding
his white SUV, and exiting the airport. He headed toward 580
east
,
on his way home to Sacramento.

California had no sentimental value to the former soldier,
the house one his mother had left him upon her death. Rio had joined the Army
the day he turned 18, and now at 29 he felt lost and abandoned without the U.S.
Government telling him where to go, what to do, and when to do it. Living in a
tiny bungalow in Sacramento, waiting for the next phone call with a temporary
job offer only added to the depression that had started his final day of active
duty.

He had come to terms with the anger that had consumed him
after the news that Congress was slashing the military budget. He hadn’t
thought for one minute that his unit would be affected, had expected all the
cuts to come from food and beverage, supply, maybe some base closings. The work
that Peron and his comrades accomplished protected America, and without men of
their particular bearing, the country would be vulnerable to the spreading
threat of Middle East terrorists.

The only problem was that nobody bothered to tell the amateur
in the White House; or maybe he just didn’t care. For whatever reason, many
Special Operation units were decimated, the soldiers given opportunities to
learn a new skill, or face separation, and a life without the military.

Peron could never have remained in the Army doing a
menial job, waiting for his 20 years to arrive. If he couldn’t make a
difference, he wanted none of their bullshit. He never regretted his choice;
only that the choice had to be made. His faith in the United States was still intact,
but his attitude towards the present administration, and the lame Congress was
a different story.

That evening, sitting in a fake leather recliner in his
living room, the television showing a muted Giants game, Rio sucked on a bottle
of Bud and wondered if his next thirty years would be like this; and at what
point he would eat his .45?

The next morning, not sure what his plan was, but knowing
he needed to be somewhere else, he visited a local realtor, and listed his
mom’s house, realizing that sitting alone every night in front of the tube was
going to drive him crazy…or worse. He needed to be moving, to find some action
that would satisfy his needs. Returning home, he started calling old friends,
trying desperately to find something or somewhere he might fit in.

Somewhere out there was a meaningful spot for one of the
finest snipers that the Army Rangers had ever had.

------

Portland was a bigger town than Amp remembered. A year
ago, when she and Danner and Riley had made a quick stop for feeding purposes,
she hadn’t noticed or cared about the town. Now as she walked out of the
airport, the night traffic and hectic activity surprised her. She wasn’t sure
where she was going, or what she was doing, only that the weight of loneliness
was pushing down on her, and she felt like she was sinking into a dark hole; a
hole she wasn’t sure she wanted to crawl out of.

Not knowing how she was to achieve her goal of destroying
Wilson, having no real friends or allies that would stand with her, all these
things were crushing her. Several times during the past 24 hours she had
considered Morgan’s offer of a home and a position on his staff. It would be so
easy to let others take over the worries for her, but her stubborn resolve to
finish what she had started, and her breeding of independence, thanks to
Danner, had forced her away from L.A.

She knew she probably shouldn’t be in Portland, but the
nights of dreaming about Katy, and their few minutes together made Amp hungry
for the lonely girl she had fed from.

Checking into a downtown hotel, Amp spent the rest of the
evening trying to develop a plan. She knew her next stop must be in Washington,
and her hopes were cautiously optimistic that she could recruit some allies
from the crew of vampires she had met in the Petersburg bar. They had seemed to
hold a great deal of animosity for Wilson and his crew. If that could be
channeled correctly, Amp just might end up with some backup. She finally fell
asleep at dawn, her mind a jumbled mess of despair.

That evening, it took an hour for Amp to find the teen
club she had been in over a year ago. The atmosphere was exactly as she
remembered. She sat at a round table and took tiny sips from a bottle of water,
wondering if Katy still came to this club? She didn’t know anything about the
girl, only that she felt a strange kinship with her. It was well past midnight
when she caught sight of the girl, coming through the door alone, looking
around as though looking for someone. She made her way to the bar, ordering a
soft drink, then turned and scanned the crowd of loud and obnoxious youths. Her
eyes met Amps and kept going,
then
jerked back, her
mouth forming a word, a smile spreading across it that left Amp satisfied that
this had been the right choice.

“You came back,” was the girl’s first words as she stood
hesitatingly by the table. “Oh crap…I’ve…I’ve…”

“Sit,” Amp whispered, not wanting to draw attention.

Silently the girl took the seat across from Amp, the look
of disbelief on her face changing to something akin to bliss. Amp stared at the
girl, wondering where this was
going?
Finally settling
on her plan, she stood and held out her hand.

 
“Can we go for a
walk?” she started, in no way wanting to influence this girl with her glamour.
At the moment, she needed a friend, not a conquest.

Katy nodded, joining her, and the two walked out of the
club hand in hand, neither looking back.