Undertow

by toezofasupermodel

Picks up after Sonata. A series of attacks in cities around the world have Josef on alert. Meanwhile, Mick and Beth try to move forward with their relationship with unexpected results. Ben Talbot has the list and the eye of a vampire hunter. What will he do, and how will it change things for everyone?

1. Chapter 1

Undertow

Prologue: One day before…

The woman sat crankily inside one of LAX's international waiting areas examining the shapeless dress that erased her waist and legs. Terrible was the frock's print and its fabric synthetic. In all her years, the vampiress had never looked so off-the-rack ugly. No sparkly bling or Jimmy Choos—just fake jewelry and canvas slip-ons.

It was awful indeed…but working like a charm. The lady and her wide lens sunglasses went unnoticed. Her usual attire, formal and expensive, always drew long stares. Exotic features of pale peach skin, high cheekbones and rosy lips were similarly curtained by a platinum wig. She looked the part of an ordinary human—horrible in other words.

But not for much longer. Around the passenger exit a crowd had swelled, a telling sign that the next flight's patrons would be coming through. A digital screen above confirmed that Air France 521 from Paris had touched down. In a few moments, travelers would spill and scurry through this lobby.

And Angus McCullough would be among them.

Big, brown eyes moving about the room, the woman scanned for his lackeys, as she had several times since coming. The call to intercept this hunter and any others had reached her hours ago. Her brothers were also searching the airport for anyone of interest. The huntsman's people stood out, intimidating most with their short buzz cuts, black fatigues and silver spiked jackboots. To her, the look was helpful. Sore thumbs against the rest, McCullough's men were easy to pick out and pick off.

The captain, on the other hand, changed his appearance often. They'd never met, but she'd been briefed at length. With his face burned into her memory, she could confidently see through any disguise. Paris to Los Angeles, the flight had been a red-eye. McCullough would be groggy and jet-lagged. She'd catch him easily and end it.

For whatever reason, there was a delay. The lady sat with rocketing impatience for another forty minutes before the passenger exit exploded outward and emptied its contents. By that time, she was more than in the mood to rip someone to pieces.