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around them.
    That was not Tony .
    “Marcus!”
    Azid and the other terrorist cried out and stumbled back from the cell door when it was
    flung open with such force it burst free of its hinges. The men’s faces were etched in horror and Andorra watched with cold satisfaction as Marcus and Roger, in full vampire mode, strode into the cell, grabbed both thugs by their throats and slammed them brutally against the stone wall.
    “Now you tell us who you are working for!” Marcus snarled, his fangs inches from
    Azid’s sweating neck.
    Another vampire whom Andorra did not recognise, rushed in, accompanied by Tony
    who immediately wrenched the silver chains from Andorra’s body and pulled her into his
    arms.
    “Tony—forgive me,” Andorra murmured against his chest.
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    “For what? Nothing happened, Andy. Marcus and his buddies saved the day. This is
    Andrew, by the way.”
    Andorra acknowledged the handsome vampire with a nod of thanks, then slipped from
    Tony’s embrace and stared at the two hapless men in Marcus’ and Roger’s grip.
    She smiled. “Shall I tell you now, what you wanted to know—before we kill you?”
    “But not before they vomit up the name of the man who betrayed you,” Marcus said,
    letting Azid slide down the wall until he knelt in front of him.
    “I do not know his name,” Azid squeaked. “We were hired to extract information and
    pass it on, that is all.”
    “To whom would you pass it on?” Andrew asked.
    “No one uses their real names—only codes.”
    “Then give us both code names, coward,” Andrew said. “The one who betrayed the
    Lady Andorra, and the one to whom you would relay the information.”
    Azid hesitated long enough for Marcus to expose his fangs again and growl deep in his
    throat, while Roger squeezed the other terrorist’s throat enough to make him croak—just
    barely, “Tell them, Azid, for pity’s sake, tell them!”
    “I only have the one code name to be used in dispatches—it is Krautman,” Azid
    muttered, scowling. “That is all I know, I swear.”
    “I wonder why they needed this go-between,” Andorra mused, with a speculative
    glance at Tony. “The government informant must surely have a direct link to this Krautman person.”
    “Perhaps he was afraid of a direct communication being intercepted,” Tony said. “He
    could always say he was checking these guys out for future spy work.”
    “So what do we do with these jerks?” Roger asked.
    “The same as we did with their friends before releasing them,” Marcus replied. “Wipe
    their memories clean of all that has taken place here. Although what they planned to do to Tony merits stronger measures, too many dead bodies pose too many questions. Now, Roger!”
    Andorra watched with grim amusement as the terrorists’ faces, once twisted in fear and
    hatred now became calm, if puzzled, masks.
    “You may go,” Marcus said quietly, and without argument, the men shuffled away, not
    even giving him and the others so much as a backward glance.
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    BLOOD TALISMAN J.P. Bowie 32
    Andorra stepped forward to embrace Marcus. “Thank you for this,” she said, kissing
    his cheek. “I was beginning to despair for Tony’s life. And you too, Roger.” She smiled at the young vampire. “I see you’ve become quite the aggressor. And you have brought a new friend—Andrew?”
    Andrew smiled, took Andorra’s hand and laid a soft kiss on it. “Andrew Berés, my
    lady,” he murmured, his old-world manners to the fore.
    “He helped lay out those creeps that were looking forward to singeing my skin,” Tony
    said, clapping Andrew on the shoulder. “You should have seen the looks on those bozos’
    faces when three mad-as-hell vampires came bustin’ into the room!” Tony laughed, but
    Andorra could tell her human companion had been really shaken up by the whole
    experience. Perhaps it was time to give up this liaison she had with