The first voice was replaced by a very familiar one that said, “Paige! Where are you?”
“Oklahoma.”
“I knew it! As soon as I heard about the town that was overrun, I knew you’d be in the middle of it! Atoka, right?”
“Yeah,” she said. “It’s already on the news?”
“Not the major networks, but there’s plenty of reports coming in from people taking pictures and videos and whatever else. They’re getting squashed by official channels that go pretty high up. Know anything about that?”
“Maybe. I need to get in touch with someone in this area. One of us. And nobody who might be a friend of Rico’s.”
“You worried about the Vigilant?”
Paige’s stomach clenched into a knot. “Who are they?” she asked.
“We’ve only heard the name once, but several of you guys have been breaking off from us.”
“How many?”
“It’s hard to say for certain,” Stu replied. “There are a few out west who don’t normally check in anyways and plenty that never made it onto our list, but they aren’t necessarily broken away. Lots more as you head east. We lost track of everyone from Philadelphia and that vicinity. That’s about all we’ve got on them.”
“What about anyone in the Oklahoma area? Anyone out here at all? Vigilant or not?” As she waited for Stu to look up the information, her phone beeped. It was another incoming call, but she ignored it since Stu was already pulling up results.
“Sure. There’s a small group based in Oklahoma City.”
“Is one of them named John Waggoner?” she asked.
“I’ve only got one name and it’s Bill Phillips. You want his number?”
“Just send it to me. I’ve got to go. Thanks, Stu.” Before he could say anything else, she cut the connection. Paige stood at the top of the stairs, listening to what sounded like some very uncomfortable grunts coming from Milosh. Since the noises he made weren’t growls or dying breaths, that probably meant he was getting the treatment he needed. The fingers on her right hand tingled, so she flexed them. More than likely she needed to get some preventive medication herself.
The phone rattled in her hand, causing her to twitch. It buzzed once and stopped, and when she looked down she saw Stu’s text message passing along Bill Phillips’s phone number. That was followed by
The next call she made was to a number that wasn’t listed in any directory. As far as she knew, it wasn’t even supposed to be written down on anything that wasn’t set on fire a minute later. After two rings the connection crackled through several layers of electronic security measures and was answered by a curt, “Adderson.”
Ignoring the beep of an incoming call, she asked, “Have you heard anything about Cole yet?”
“If you know where he is, then tell me right now!”
She grinned, which was enough of a silent gap to make the man at the other end of the connection nervous.
“Paige!” Adderson barked. “I’m serious. I can’t offer any assistance if you don’t offer some in return.”
She cut the call short with the quick poke of a button. By the time she got to the cot where Milosh was being treated, she was already getting another call. This one she answered right away.
Chapter Fifteen
Cole and Lambert rode in an old Chevy hatchback they’d stolen not too long ago. Actually, Frank had stolen it. The Squam waited alongside County Road 255 until he spotted a solitary car with no others in sight. Bounding in a loping stride that forced him to lean forward and swat the ground with his hands, he caught up to it, pulled the passenger door open and climbed inside.
Although Cole felt bad for the petrified, twenty-something girl behind the wheel, he had to admit it was one of the coolest things he’d ever seen. He rushed over to the car, pulled the trembling little blonde out through her door and shoved her into the back with Lambert. “Who are you guys?” she screamed. “Please just let me go!”
“Can’t do that, darlin’,” Lambert said with a slimy grin. “What’s yer name, sweetie?”
Cole, behind the wheel and about to look in the purse he’d seen on the passenger seat, snapped his eyes up to the rearview mirror. “Lay off,” he said. “We’re just getting what we need.”
“She likes me.”
“No I …don’t,” the girl muttered.
“She likes the bad boys,” Lambert said. “Gangsta types. That’s what she’s thinkin’.”
According to what Cole heard, Lambert had been locked up in G7 because he was a mind reader. Judging by the look on the girl’s face, he might have struck a nerve. Even so, he told Lambert, “Just watch her. The only time you need to touch her is if she makes a wrong move.”
Lambert met his eyes in the rearview mirror. “What do you think I’m gonna do to her? Just because I’m a —”
“Spare me the hurt feelings speech and just watch her!”
“What is that …thing?” the girl asked. “The thing that climbed into my car.”
Frank was nowhere in sight, but Cole assumed he’d return on his own, as he had before. Instead, he concerned himself with the purse. He took most of the cash as well as a debit card, left the credit cards, and kept digging until he found the girl’s cell phone. It was a newer model, wrapped up in a hot pink case with little fake jewels glued around the portrait of a Hollywood pretty boy who’d made a living playing even prettier vampires in a cable television series. “Great,” he sighed.
“Let me go,” she demanded.
“We’re not going to hurt you,” he assured her. Tossing the purse on the seat beside him, he put the car in gear and pulled back onto the road. “We just need the car, okay?”
She nodded and wrapped her arms around herself. Lambert stayed on his side of the seat as the car picked up speed. Thanks to the DOOR AJAR light on the dash coming on, Cole knew exactly what the inmate was doing when he lunged across at her. After grabbing her arm, Lambert pulled her away from the door that now swung open. By the time Cole pulled over, Frank had run up close enough to the car to shut the door again. As soon as she saw him, the girl yelped and pressed herself against Lambert.
“See?” the inmate said. “Told ya she liked me.”
Cole twisted around and placed his arm across the back of the seat. “I know this is scary,” he said to the blonde. “We aren’t going to hurt you. Just bear with us and you’ll have a hell of a story to tell to your friends.”
“Or to the cops,” Lambert said. “Or the news. That’s what she’s thinkin’.”
“Could you always read people that easily?” Cole asked.
“Nope. Just when they ain’t guarding their brains. Young ones are easier too,” he added. “They think they’re so smart but …Ooooh! That’s nasty, girl!”
She scowled at him and grew pale. The combination of fear and excitement in her eyes was close to what Cole had seen on the faces of humans who’d frequented Steph’s Blood Parlor and paid for Nymar to feed on them. Apparently, being the food of supernatural predators was still what all the cool kids were doing.
“Hold on to her, Lam,” Cole said. “What’s your name, miss?”
“Brianne.”
“She don’t like bein’ called miss.”
“Yeah,” Cole said. “I figured. Okay, Brianne. Just sit tight and we’ll let you off the first place we can. Sound good?”
She didn’t say anything, but must have been thinking in some pretty colorful terms because Lambert chuckled and shook his head.
Cole kept driving south, simply because that was the easiest way to keep the prison behind them. On all sides
