Blood Bourbon

The Good

A tactfully sound way to approach the house would be to park down the street and walk in, sneak up on the people who were in wait for him. Circling the property to ensure that all entrances were clear, maybe look in a window undetected to see if he could get a lay of the land.

Ryker had driven past the house, noticing that only one lone pickup sat in the driveway. Several miles further on, he found the second missing truck, along with an array of others. All non-descript, all utility based and all immaculately clean. No car though, which led him to believe that the wife and kids were gone.

If he was being honest, he was more afraid of Mary than he was of Charlie, having heard her thoroughly lash Daryl enough to know the woman was a powerhouse.

And she moved like she could deliver a complete beating.

But if he was going to be sneaky and tactical, he wouldn't have cleared his phone of all data and then opened it up to whomever had reversed hacked it from Daryl's phone. The moment he initiated the tracking of the cowboy, a more subtle infiltration of his phone had been done. Far more sophisticated and covert. They were tracking him, had been since he had left the parking lot of the hotel he wasn't staying in and initiated the technological game of cat and mouse.

They had tracked him to a couple various locations, including the local high school where he went through their student records and the town hall, where he found everything he could find about the property and it's owners.

Then they tracked him until several miles before the turn off to the farm, where he pulled over, crushed the phone and waited a good hour. It gave them time to set up, and sit and sweat, wondering where he was.

But now, he drove right up to the front door in his obnoxious large black suburban and stepped out onto the dusty driveway with his designer leather shoes. His outfit of a pair of dress pants and shirt were custom made tactical clothing that looked like it belonged in a boardroom and was just as expensive. His team was already in position and had been watching the farm since he landed in Austin the afternoon before.

He felt crosshairs on his back as he approached the front steps, only to be met by Daryl's older brother stepping out of the doorway. They looked similar, though the older version of his cowboy had harder lines, a few more scars and darker eyes. He moved like a killer, even for a human, and he didn't bother with a smile this time.

"Mr. Del Vaya." Charlie offered, using one hand to tip the brim of his cowboy hat up a little higher on his head. "How can I help Knight Corp?"

"Tell your posse to come in from the hills, for one." Ryker tried his best to fight off the feeling that he was in a bad western, shoving his hands in his pants, his body language relaxed. Not to reassure the man, but merely to keep the humans underestimating him.

"Are you here for business or pleasure?" Charlie squinted at the horizon, frowning thoughtfully.

"A little of both, actually." Ryker felt the sun setting, finally, the daylight was driving him insane, raising his frustration a fair bit. "I need to ask you a few questions."

"Knight Corp..." Charlie murmured thoughtfully, raising a brow and glancing down at him, "one of the toughest assignments of my career was tracking some of your people down. Uncanny, your abilities to move and sense us coming."

Ryker stilled then, narrowing his eyes and biting back a snarl. "So you do work for them."

The man paused for a moment, reevaluating him for a long moment before snorting and shaking his head. "No. The government sometimes likes stepping on its own toes, trying to outdo other departments. But there was a reason that I got out. I saw what your people did. And I saw what they wanted us to do. Now, I've done a lot that most people wouldn't be proud of, Del Vaya, but I do know right and wrong."

"They've approached your brother. And we are trying to figure out why." Ryker let out a slow breath, seeing the man stiffen in surprise, which swiftly turned to anger.

Charlie gave him a bitter smirk, shaking his head slowly. "Because my father signed away his first and second born children to the devil."

***

Luckily, Charlie had let down his guard enough to usher Ryker inside, where they sat across from one another at the long kitchen table. It was a span of wood of about five feet and Ryker sat on one end, watching the human pace over to the coffee pot and pour out two cups.

"You like anything in it?" For a moment, it was like looking at Daryl, the politeness and genuine expression on the man taking Ryker off guard for a moment.

Forcing himself to regain his darker demeanor, he grinned toothily, "well..."

Charlie scowled at him and put the black coffee down in front of him. "Not gunna happen. I've seen what a bite does. " He sat down as Ryker's polar opposite in the room, taking a sip of a similarly unadulterated cup of coffee, watching him expectantly.

"Well, you can do it without a bite. Just cut your hand..."

"Have you..." Charlie shot forward, looking one hand reaching for the knife Ryker could smell on the human but had not been able to pinpoint until that moment.

Ryker glanced to the spot pointedly, letting the human know he his mistake and grinned darkly. "No. Daryl has no idea."

"It was you tracking his phone, right?" Charlie visibly forced himself to relax, leaning back against the chair, staring hard at him.

"Guilty. I did it the night I saw the company approach him. They're playing friendly right now, but that's not going to last, especially not with Daryl out of New Orleans." Ryker took a drink of the stuff, sighing at the bitter taste. A little blood wasn't too much to ask, was it?

"Fuckers." Charlie offered several more curses and stared down at the table. Around them, throughout the house, Ryker could hear the humans stealthily take up positions.

They were good, but they weren't supernatural.

"Now. In light of your revelations, you have added to my list of questions for tonight, but I'll stick to the game plan for now." Ryker was having a hard time disliking the man. He was a rougher, darker version of Daryl, but just as honest and upfront with his reactions. "Why would they want him to be a sperm donor, and does it relate to this mystery childhood cancer he had for eight years of his life, that no longer exists in any records?"

There was surprise on Charlie's face for a moment, before he managed to control it, and he inclined his head finally. "When I was a kid, a little bit older than Daryl was, I think I was about five or six, but anyways, I remember going in to the doctors and them doing a whole bunch of tests on me. I had a fair amount of tests. Always when my dad was on deployments. But it was the last real time that I remember clearly. I remember them bringing us in a couple of days later and looking disappointed when they said I came back clear, and that nothing was wrong."

"You remember that? As a five year old?" Ryker gave him a sceptical look, taking another sip of the coffee.

The human looked up at him then, smirking. "Daryl's memory is better. Everything about him is better." There was meaning behind those words, a bitter, dark look as he took a sip of coffee and shrugged. "Couple years later, dad tells mom that they've been approved for another round of fertility help. This was when I found out that I was a test tube baby. They explained it all to me when I asked about it, and said that they could maybe get me a younger sibling. It took them a bit to decide. Dad wasn't for it, but my mom wanted another kid. So when I was twelve, Daryl was born."

"They had changed whatever they were testing on you." Ryker was beginning to understand, and he didn't like where it was going, at all.

Silence stretched for a long while, Charlie watching him with a pained look, before sighing. "I loved my brother from the moment I saw him. I went everywhere with him, literally. All his appointments, and he had a lot. More than I remember having. And always when my dad was gone. I remember sitting in the waiting room as Daryl was taken into the exam room that last time. Neither me or mom could go in. And he was a toddler, I'll never forget him reaching out his hand, crying as the door closed."

If anyone had asked him before that moment, Ryker would have sworn he didn't have a heart, but the raw emotion in the man's voice twisted a knife through the damned thing, causing him to scowl.

... Continued