"What's in the cave, Russell?" Madigan asked with heavy sarcasm.
I shrugged. "Rocks. Lots of 'em."
"Don't patronize me." His voice lowered to a hiss. "What else is in the cave?"
I looked him straight in the eye and spoke one word.
"Mud."
Madigan's thoughts erupted into a slew of curses before he regained control and barricaded them behind the car insurance jingle that had to be what hell played for elevator music.
"You don't want to do that, mate," Bones said. His tone was soft, but each word was edged in ice. "She cares about protecting everyone your toy soldiers are holding hostage enough to ignore those insults. I don't. Think anything like that at her again, and I'll kill you here and now."
Madigan's scoff was uneasy. "Any attack on me-"
"Is the same as an attack on the United States itself," Bones finished, still in that deadly calm manner. "Heard you the first time-and didn't give a shite then, either."
Madigan eyed Bones for another tense, extended moment before turning his attention back to me.
"We know you're up to something in the cave, and we know it has to do with ghosts. It'll be easier on everyone if you tell me what it is, but even if you don't, I'll find out."
Not if I can help it. "I told you the last time I saw you; I'm doing a favor for a friend's paranoid client. She thinks this cave is haunted by old Indian spirits or something. I told her I'd have professionals check it out, so here we are."
"Swears Tecumseh, Crazy Horse, and Geronimo are holed up in there. Bitch is crazy, but her checks clear," Tyler added.
Madigan looked over at Chris, who had sweat dripping down his face even though it was chilly with the early-evening breeze.
"Is that what you were doing in there?"
Chris didn't look at me or Bones, but he knew we were watching him. His thoughts raced, wondering who he should be more afraid of: the man commanding the soldier who had a gun pressed to his head or the two vampires fifty feet away.
"We were looking for ghosts, just like they said," he rasped, being vague.
Madigan moved closer to him. "And did you find any?"
This time, Chris's gaze skidded in our direction before he spoke. "Had some interesting EMF readings and found some cold spots, but nothing like what the client described."
"Ah." Madigan took his glasses off and cleaned them almost leisurely on his jacket. "So we're back to the 'there's no such thing as intelligent ghosts' claim, hmm? What's with all the marijuana and garlic everywhere in your old house, Cat?"
I gave him a breezy smile. "Love to get my weed on, and garlic is great for the blood."
"Do you even know how to tell the truth?" Madigan asked sharply.
"You're one to talk," Don muttered.
I said nothing. Madigan continued to stare at me, his guards holding their position even though a few of them were beginning to think that if they weren't going to shoot us anytime soon, they'd like to lower their heavy guns. I didn't think it was an accident that all these men were strangers to me. For this occasion, Madigan had left all my friends from the team behind.
"Donovan," Madigan called out, with a victorious little smirk. "Take Proctor and Hamilton and sniff out the spectre trap that the folks at the RV were talking about. Then we'll see about there being no such thing as sentient ghosts."
Fuck! If the trap was successful, we'd intended to erase the team's memories to prevent them from revealing any incriminating information like this, but too late now. Still, we might be able to brazen it out. It would take these guys weeks to find the trap if they succeeded at all.
My relief at that lasted only long enough for the three soldiers to take their helmets off and come toward Bones and me, sniffing deeply. They were human, why would they do such a thing?
The reason hit me even before Madigan's smug words.
"These men have had their senses heightened by vampire blood. Now that they have your scent, they can follow its trail right to that big stone device we're told is in there."
Double f**k! Imbibing enough vampire blood would indeed give them the ability to sniff out our path to the trap, plus make them immune to mind control. By finding the cave from old mission reports and showing up with supernaturally enhanced soldiers, Madigan had proven smarter than I'd given him credit for.
Bones folded his arms, his gaze like a laser beam as he stared at Madigan.
"Whose blood are they on? Every vampire on your team owes their fealty to me, and I did not give them permission to turn over their blood for such purposes."
Madigan's smile was cold. "Don't worry. I didn't get it from them."
My eyes widened before I could control myself, but this news stunned me. If Madigan hadn't tapped Tate's or Juan's veins in order to juice up his select guard, then what other vampire-or vampires?-was he in collusion with?
Then I met my uncle's gaze, and another realization bolted through me. Don didn't look the least bit surprised. With all his slurs about Madigan, he hadn't once mentioned a connection to vampires. How could he have left something that important out?
Bones's eyes turned green, and power crackled through the air-icy, lethal, and expanding so rapidly it soon surrounded everyone in the vicinity. I tensed for what felt like an imminent explosion. Tyler must've also sensed that a switch had been flipped. He moved away, thinking, That guy done f**ked up now.
Madigan must've sensed that, too. He took a step back, his smile faltering. "See those visors my men are wearing? Not only do they block out the effect from your eyes, they also contain recorders streaming live images to a secure location. Even if you manage to kill all of us, others in the government will know who did it. You'll be hunted for the rest of your lives."
For a second, I wondered if Bones cared. Madigan had no idea that one did not taunt a Master vampire with the notion that he was using other vampires against him. But while the thought of Bones's killing Madigan didn't bother me, killing his guards for no reason other than they would feel duty-bound to strike back was repellent. Plus, then our claims that vampire prejudice was unfounded would be pretty hollow if we massacred an elite government operative like Madigan and some of his protective guard on video.
My fingers curled around Bones's hand, his power sizzling up my arm like I'd just been electrocuted.
"No," I said quietly.
For several seconds, I didn't know if he'd listen. That dangerous power didn't abate, and the glare he had fixed on Madigan said that the operations consultant was only moments away from death.