Allyn and Ransom – 37

 

Ahead of them was a brick wall—at least fifteen tall, Allyn thought—with shorter cypress trees lining it. It stretched as far as Allyn could see in both directions. ::There's no way a human could scale that.::

 

::Luckily for us, we aren't. And you're about to have company. I'll join you once we see what he has to say.::

 

::No. You're the secret weapon. Stay out of sight.::

 

Allyn didn't wait for Ransom's reply. He walked to the wall, looking up, then at the cypress trees, as if trying to assess his chances of climbing one of them to make good his escape.

 

"You played the game well. Very well." Grigore came into view, striding across the narrow strip of grass separating the forest from the wall.

 

"Then I'm free to leave?" Allyn asked.

 

Grigore's smile was feral when he replied, "Only if you escape. That is the rule. I hate to be the bearer of bad news, but unless you can fly over that"—he pointed to the wall—"there is no escape."

 

"A rigged game, Grigore? Why aren't I surprised? If you really are a vampire… Well, they are known for being less than honorable."

 

"If?" Grigore's smile widened, revealing two long, sharp fangs.

 

"Impressive. Not as good as mine though." With that said, Allyn shifted.

 

Grigore hissed with rage. "How did I miss what you truly are? Well, be that as it may, you'll soon be dead. Not that I can feed from you—unfortunately. Your blood would poison me." As he talked, Grigore's nails became claws.

 

::I didn't know that,:: Allyn commented while tensing to spring.

 

::If it's true, at least we know he won't be biting you.::

 

::Not sure that's much relief.:: Allyn leapt, intending to knock Grigore to the ground. Only Grigore wasn't there. Spinning, Allyn saw him—just in time to avoid the vampire's claws from closing around his neck. Instead, they raked down his shoulder, leaving a bloody trail in their wake.

 

That didn't deter Allyn. He sprang, closing his jaws on Grigore's arm. ::Sure as hell hope vampire blood isn't poison for us.::

 

::Don't swallow,:: Ransom replied.

 

Allyn didn't bother to answer. He was doing his best to defend himself against Grigore's swift moves and flashing claws, while trying to throw the vampire to the ground. Being small—for a wolf—it was like a Labrador trying to fight a human who had the abilities of…well, a vampire. Unfortunately, taking down Grigore wasn't as easy as they had figured when he and Ransom first made their plans to stop what they thought was a very vicious, evil human.

 

::Need some help?:: Ransom asked, leaping into the fray. He did what Allyn hadn't been able to—forced Grigore onto his back.

 

"No!" Grigore screamed, just before he vanished.

 

::The house,:: Ransom ordered. ::Or not,:: he added when Grigore reappeared, hovering several feet above the ground.

 

Suddenly Grigore dove forward—like a hawk going after a rabbit—his claws extended, his fangs flashing. He was so quick Allyn didn't have time to move. Grigore's fangs bit deeply into the nape of Allyn's neck while his claws tore Allyn's back and side.

 

::Never could trust a damned vampire.:: Ransom was on Grigore again, rending, tearing, biting—dragging the vampire off Allyn. Then his powerful jaws ripped out Grigore's throat. Instantly, Grigore turned to ashes.

 

Ransom shifted, spitting as he did. "Don't tell anyone, but dead vampires taste like shit." He knelt beside Allyn, examining the damage Grigore had caused. "Don't shift," he ordered. "You'll heal faster the way you are."

 

::I know that,:: Allyn replied weakly, and a bit sourly. ::I wasn't born yesterday.::

 

"I'm going to take you home," Ransom told him.

 

::Not yet. We have to find out what he did with the others.::

 

"You're in no condition to do that," Ransom said.

 

::But you are. There has to be a burial spot somewhere around here.::

 

Ransom sighed. "Not necessarily. But I'll take a run through the grounds. See if I can spot anything." He shifted to his wolf form and took off.

 

Allyn waited, trying to ignore the pain from his wounds as they slowly healed. He managed a chuckle when Ransom said, ::This guy needed to hire a gardener.:: Then, several minutes later Ransom told him, ::Found it.::

 

::Where?::

 

::Off to the side of the damned house. Best guess, this was a plantation once because there are slave cabins. Fallen into disrepair but that's what they were. Behind them is a small graveyard.::

 

::That's where he put the bodies?::

 

"If my sense of smell is any indication," Ransom replied, appearing in his human form beside Allyn. He carefully lifted the red wolf and seconds later gently set him down behind a dilapidated cabin. "Right over there." He pointed to a few plain, broken tombstones. "Don't shift. You can see… Damn it, Allyn."

 

Allyn did shift, shivering in the pre-dawn cold. Ransom wrapped his arms around him, holding Allyn against his chest. "There's freshly turned earth by four of the grave markers."

 

"I see," Allyn replied quietly, his gaze going to one which seemed fresher than the others. "Liam's," he murmured sadly, giving a nod toward it.

 

"I suspect so," Ransom agreed. "We'll know for certain once the local police check them out."

 

"You can't call them. How will you explain…?" Allyn asked through chattering teeth.

 

"I'll figure something out. Right now, I'm taking you home. You're freezing and not fully healed yet."

 

"If I was stronger—"

 

"You'd already be wearing clothes. Yeah. Let's find them. The cops will wonder why they're…let's hope they're in the house."

 

"Better be." He gave Ransom an image of the entryway and seconds later they were there.

 

"Neat son-of-a-bitch," Ransom muttered, looking at the pile of clothing sitting on the sofa, with Allyn's shoes resting on top. He handed Allyn his tux pants, then gathered up the rest while Allyn put them on. With an arm around Allyn's waist, Ransom transported them to the living room of Allyn's estate.