"Trophy room," he said, voice little more than a wheeze as his face began turning an interesting shade of purple. "Far end."
I hit him then, knocking him out cold. It would have been good to kill the bastard but I just couldn't risk Yohan getting to the controls first and taking revenge on my brother.
I rose and ran. Down the hill, through the forest, ignoring the pain in my leg and the pain in my body, my feet flying as I ducked and weaved through the trees and undergrowth. Yohan might have had a head start, but I had a vampire's speed and I was using every bit of it.
Still, the house was on the other side of the island, and even the fittest vampire can run out of breath occasionally. And I wasn't even full vampire, so I was blowing hard and dripping sweat by the time I ran down the last slope and onto the main driveway that lead to what they quaintly called their lodge - a massive, sprawling series of connected buildings that was undoubtedly built from their blackmailing activities.
Something pinged near my toes before skittering away into the nearby trees. I looked up, and saw the gates and the armed guard in the security box next to it.
That bullet hadn't felt like silver, meaning they wouldn't be deadly unless they hit something vital. Not that I was intending to get shot if I could help it. Without breaking stride, I bent and scooped up a largish stone with my free hand. Bullets ripped through the air - several so close I could feel the burn of them as they passed by my arms and legs. If that guard wanted to kill me - or at least bring me down permanently - he would have been trying for torso shots. Yohan must have wanted me alive and wriggling, and that was just fine by me.
I threw the stone hard. It whirled through the air, little more than a deadly blur. If the guard had any awareness of it, he certainly didn't show it. The stone smacked into his face and blood spurted. He barely had time to howl before I was on him. I ripped the weapon free from his grip, then hit him with the barrel of Jorn's rifle. He slumped to the floor, out cold before he'd even hit it. I tugged him onto his side so that he didn't drown in his own blood, then looked around the small box until I found the gate switch, and threw it.
I bet the gates of hell itself didn't open so quietly or quickly.
I grabbed the guard's rifle, broke it open to grab the bullets, and shoved them into my pocket. It never hurt to have spares. The weapon I tossed into the forest - at least it was one less that I had to worry about.
I raised my nose and tasted the air. The tang of eucalyptus was strong, combining sharply with the salty freshness of the ocean. I couldn't hear the crash of waves, but if that scent was anything to go by, we were close to a beach. The island wasn't that big, after all, and I'd just run through the heart of it.
But Yohan's scent was absent, as was the hint of any other male's. I didn't trust that information one bit - they were here somewhere. I could "feel" them, feel their growing sense of anticipation.
They were probably setting a trap, waiting for me to walk right up to it. I might still be considered green when it came to guardian skills, but I wasn't stupid.
That anticipatory feeling was coming from directly ahead, which was where the house was. So therefore I went left, through the trees, avoiding the paths and the occasional infrared sensor. Once around the back of the house, I stopped. All the windows were closed, and I was betting the doors were locked.
I studied the walls and eaves, looking for cameras and infrareds. There were several, and I had no doubt they were active. The roof had more than a couple of loose tiles and presented a definite opportunity if I could get up there unseen. My gaze went to the trees, and I smiled. Several had long branches that overhung the roof, and I could get to them without being spotted by the cameras. Lovely.
I backed into the forest and walked back to my chosen tree. I scrambled up the trunk and then out onto the limb. It was only a short drop to the tiled roof. After that, I padded quickly and quietly to the nearest batch of loose tiles. It was easy enough to slide them aside and slip quietly into the roof cavity. From there, it was simply a matter of crawling over the ducting and wiring until I found a manhole.
What I dropped down into was a workshop that looked bigger than my whole damned apartment. There were all sorts of machines and tools here - some I could name, many I couldn't. The smell of metal and oil and stale, sweaty man was thick in the air, and my nose twitched in distaste. Obviously, whoever worked in here didn't believe in deodorant.
I padded forward, following the wall until I found a door. Pressing my ear against it revealed little. I blinked and switched to infrared. No telltale signs of body heat, either. I gripped the handle and slowly opened the door.
A wide corridor filled with shadows lay before me.
The long layout of the building suggested this corridor was probably a main one. The house itself was deathly quiet. No surprise given it housed a trophy room filled with stuffed nonhumans. I just had to hope no ghosts haunted the corridor. I mightn't be able to converse with "older" spirits, but I could see them and I could feel them. And I didn't need to deal with their fury on top of everything else.
I moved forward quickly, my feet making little sound on the wood flooring. I glanced at the rooms that I passed, but found nothing resembling a trophy room.
I was almost at the top end of the house - and surely near the trophy room - when I heard the footsteps. The scent of man sharpened abruptly. They were coming my way fast.
I broke into a run, moving quickly through the shadows, scanning the rooms as they flashed by. Nothing. Down the far end of the hall, a red light winked. They had sensors in this end of the house.
Damn.
The body heat of six men suddenly leapt in focus through the walls, all of them bearing weapons. I wrapped the shadows around me, but kept on running. I had to find that room before they found me.
Two men rounded the corner. I raised my stolen rifle and fired without sighting. The men scattered and the shot ripped through a window, sending glass flying.
More men appeared, low and fast. I fired another shot, heard an answering retort. Felt a sting of pain as the bullet burned across my forearm and pinged away. Then, finally, I found the trophy room.
I dove for doorway, hitting the floor chest-first and slid several feet forward on the smooth flooring, crashing headfirst into an armchair. Behind me, the door slammed shut, and the sour scent of man spun around me.
I'd dived right into the middle of a trap.
I gripped the rifle and spun around. Yohan was standing at the door, a rifle aimed at my head in his left hand and a little silver box clenched in his right hand.
Well, fuck.