by Tanith Frost
Daniel snarls and launches himself at the door, grabbing onto the pale, meaty forearm as its owner tries to pull back. He twists the gun free, then tosses it aside and holds on with both hands, resisting the frantic tugging from the other side as the door continues to slide shut.
The vampire shouts at him, cursing a blue streak that turns to screams as I race over to pick up the gun. The sound of crunching bone reaches me over the noise from the crowd of humans. The door must have a sharp edge to it; certainly nothing will stop its progress, and a few seconds later, it thunks into place, leaving the arm hanging from it by scraps of skin, severed muscle and bone visible.
It’s almost a relief when the emergency lights fail.
Almost.
“Fuck,” Daniel whispers. His grasping fingers hit my arm, and I press the gun into his hand. “That door’s not going to hold for long without electricity to keep it locked.”
I pull him back toward the bar, pushing past humans who are now wailing and screaming in their panic. It’s pitch black until a bright, white light appears ahead of us—a flashlight in Ryder’s hand.
“We have to get the stock out of here,” he says, looking at each of the remaining members of my team in turn. “Help me. Please.”
The stock already seem to have the same idea. They’re heading for the exit in a solid clump of bodies, pushing to be the first to get to the stairs.
Genevieve’s ahead of them, though. “Get back!” she yells, uncharacteristic alarm touching her voice. “They’re coming!”
She’s right. The noise was covered by that of the humans, but there’s a fight happening above us, as well. We’ve got more security on at the door tonight than we usually do, but there are already heavy footsteps descending the stairs, and I doubt they’re coming to help us.
Daniel turns to Ryder. “We’ll make a way out. Can you control the stock until then? Keep them from scattering when they get to the top?”
That’s all we need—a dozen hysterical humans screaming their way through downtown St. John’s at this time of night.
“There’s a van we can use to get them to safety,” Ryder says, “parked in the lot up the street. Here. Take the keys.” He tosses them to me, and I slip them into my pocket. “I’ll handle things here. People! Link arms, and follow me this way!” He uses the flashlight like a beacon, calling the humans away from the door and toward the soundproof feeding booths at the back. Some obey. Others only follow when a trio of vampires pushes their way onto the club floor, guns drawn.
They’re wearing night-vision goggles.
“Ryder!” I shout, “I need a light!”
The flashlight flies end-over-end through the air, casting crazy patterns on the walls and ceiling before its weight lands in my hands. I turn it on those high-tech glasses that the attackers had ready for this full loss of power, blinding them as surely as another team of mine was once blinded by a flare of fluorescent floodlights.
These tricks are wonderful when they’re in my hands instead of an enemy’s.
But more are coming, and the light makes me a target. I turn it off and start swinging, working blind and trusting my perceptions to guide me toward the sources of void power that feel so distinctly Tempest.
But they’re armed, too, and unlike us, they have no reason to fear shooting blind into the room. The noise is deafening, and within seconds, my ears are ringing.
It’s almost better this way. I don’t need to hear them coming, and it’s easier to feel them without the distraction of crying from the back of the room.
A crash echoes down the stairs, and faint light streams in. They didn’t lose power above, and it seems the doors and curtains have all been destroyed. It’s not much, but it’s enough light for me to see shapes moving and identify my team members. It’s hard to keep an eye on what’s happening to them, though, when I’m fighting. I hit a vampire in the side of the head with the flashlight, but he recovers quickly and presses his gun to my abdomen. I try to spin away, but my path is blocked by the vampire Boris is fighting behind me. Searing pain consumes the left side of my torso. I feel myself weakening, but the silver passes through me.
The scream that erupts from my throat is part pain, part anger, all battle cry. The fire I’ve kept hidden around vampires since my return to Maelstrom burns through me, rising protectively, lighting up the void with golden warmth. I move faster, see more, dart and spin and strike.
But there are so fucking many of these enemies, swarming down the stairs like ants.
And I can’t find my team now.
A wooden stake whips past my face so quickly I almost don’t manage to avoid it. I grab hold of the hand wielding it and twist the arm, bringing a slim female vampire closer to me. She’s already shed her goggles, and I see the full confusion and hate on her face when she looks into my eyes.
She sees the fire. I’m sure they were warned about me—the traitor. The freak.
I grip her skull between my hands and twist hard. Her neck snaps, and she drops to the floor. The strength of vampire muscles should have made that harder than it was, but I’m not about to question it. I steal her stake, then take her silver-bullet-loaded gun, press it to her left temple, and pull the trigger before I move on.
I push my way toward the stairs. Daniel’s already out there. Relief floods me at the sight of him. He’s run out of bullets and is doing what he can to slow the single-file flow of enemies at the bottom of the stairs. There are no more at the top.
I can’t make it through from where I am, but he might.
I pull the keys from my pocket.
“Daniel!”
He turns, and I throw. He has to jump to catch them.
He turns toward the stairs, but there’s no hope of pushing his way through. The enemies higher up are dropping over the edge, filling the small space at the bottom. I dodge a punch and flip my attacker over my shoulder. Daniel looks back, ready to come help me.
“Fucking go!” I scream.
We need a goddamn escape vehicle.
I launch myself at a vampire who’s turning his gun on Daniel. He’s too big for me to take down, but my weight against his arm changes his aim, and he shoots another of Tempest’s vampires in the head.
Grabbing onto the handrail of the tight, twisted staircase, Daniel climbs onto it and leaps upward, catching hold of the stairs above and pulling himself up, climbing the outside of the stairs instead of fighting his way through.
My fire burns hotter and brighter, filling me with undeniable protective instinct, as I spot a vampire turning to race up the stairs after him. The big guy I’m wrestling with falls after I put a bullet through his brain from below. The one following Daniel is wearing a helmet and body armour, and I have to settle for slowing him down with a shot to the leg. He stumbles, then pulls himself back to his feet.
He’s too slow, though. Daniel is gone.
They came prepared. Knives. Guns. Fists. I grab a long, heavy blade from a fallen enemy and slice at throats, arms, whatever I can reach. The one I shot in the leg staggers back down the stairs, and my knife slides into the gap between his Kevlar armour and his belt buckle. The blade is sharp and opens skin and muscle with startling efficiency.
Back on the club floor, the emergency lights flicker on. Several of Tempest’s vampires have given up on trying to take us down and are focused on getting into the room where the humans are hiding, drawn there by the screams and sobs coming from behind the door. They’re too much, too panicked for Ryder to handle on his own.
“Come on out, little humans!” one of Tempest’s number yells. “We’ll show you how real vampires do it.”
Genevieve lets out a feral snarl and runs at them, brandishing a bottle of wine that she smashes against one of their heads. They turn on her, and Padma darts past to slip into the room.
I want to help, but crossing the floor is slow going.
When I catch sight of Genevieve again, she’s holding her two opponents at bay with skill I wouldn’t have expe
cted from someone who tries so hard to avoid fights. At least, until a third Tempest vampire seems to coalesce out of the darkness in the corner behind her.
I scream out a warning, but Genevieve doesn’t hear me. I watch in horror as the vampire grabs her by her hair, pulls her head back, and slices across her throat, spraying blood over the others.
It won’t kill her. But the enemies pin her to the ground, and one of them grins with excitement as he pulls a stake from the back of his belt.
I’ve lost my focus. A heavy weight hits me from the side, sending me flying. My gun is gone, but I hold on to the knife as I roll back to my feet.
The next moments are a blur. There’s blood. There’s the pain from the gunshot wound in my side that I’m ignoring, the damage to my muscles that forces me to compensate for my own weakness. There are void and fire, shouts and screams that sound as if they’re passing through water to reach me. The empty clothing of defeated enemies litters the floor, threatening to trip me.
Only enemies. I can’t let myself think otherwise.
I let my fire burn as hot as it possibly can, and one by one, enemies fall.
Daniel is gone, and I hope he’s out of the building. Ryder has left Padma to work her mind-bending magic on the stock, and I spot him finishing off a vampire near the bar. Boris is still dealing with the ones who had Genevieve.
Genevieve. I don’t see her. She’s not here among the handful of vampires who are still standing. Tears burn in my eyes, and I blink them away.
She’s fine. She has to be. She’s too fucking stubborn to leave us like this.
I race over to Ryder. “Daniel went for the van. We need to get the stock out now before Tempest can send more troops down here.”
He nods. I run back to the stairway, ready to take down any remaining enemies, but they’re all either incapacitated, finished off, or have gone after Daniel. The way is clear.
The humans are still obviously terrified, but are weirdly obedient as they stream out of the feeding chamber, following Padma. Ryder falls in behind them. I wait until they’re halfway up the stairs before I turn back.
“Boris, come on!”
He’s got a stake in his hands, ready to finish off the enemy at his feet. One quick strike and it’s done, and he runs toward me. The set of his mouth says he wants to take time to end every one still lying on the floor, but he lets me hurry him up the stairs ahead of me.
The door to the street is open by the time we reach the top, and Ryder is sending the first of the humans out. My hearing is returning, and the sound of an engine idling at the end of the alley is music to my ears—Daniel is here. He’s okay.
One of the humans has a makeshift bandage around his arm with blood seeping through at an alarming rate, but otherwise they seem uninjured. Physically, at least.
“We’re one short,” Ryder tells me, looking them over. “Not bad if we’re only leaving one body behind.”
He sounds as if he’s trying to reassure himself.
“You deserve a fucking medal for saving this many,” I tell him though I’m sure he can tell he doesn’t have my full attention.
He’s been focused on counting human heads. I’m looking for vampires.
Genevieve’s not here. Neither is Eric.
And then we hear it. Gentle sobbing from the darkness below us. “Hello?”
It’s not Genevieve, though. This is a human. A voice I heard breathing nonsense into my ear as I fed such a short time ago.
I take a step toward the stairs.
“Don’t,” Ryder says. “She’ll find her way up.”
“Where is everyone?” the human calls. “I can’t see. I—”
Her voice breaks into a scream that’s cut off almost before it begins. Something—someone—has her.
“I’ll be careful,” I tell Ryder. “These enemies are weak. I’ll put them down for good before they have a chance to open the door for others to come through.” I swallow back the lump in my throat. I can’t admit why I really need to go—that I won’t believe Genevieve is gone until I see proof, that I still hope I can save her.
“Go on,” I say. “Get the stock into the van and haul ass out of here. I’ll call Daniel and find out where to meet you once I’m out.”
I step carefully down the stairs, quietly as I can without moving too slowly.
And then I freeze as I feel them—a pair of familiar energies that bring a chill to my skin as I remember how desperately I wanted a piece of what they had not so long ago. Enemies who thought I was their ally.
Lachlan. Bethany. They weren’t among those who came in from above. They’ve opened the door to the passages below.
I could run now. But if I do, they’ll follow. They’ll catch the stock being loaded into the van and all of the vampires who are with them. But if I can distract these enemies, even for a few minutes…
The floor at the bottom of the stairs is still littered with the bodies of injured foes. I resist the urge to kick them as I pass. No one has attempted to help any of them yet.
I step into the Inferno, and everything hits me at once—the human, her red dress weirdly bright in the faint light from the doorway, frozen with her eyes wide, fingers clinging to the hand at her throat as though she can pry it away. Lachlan standing behind her, wearing a gorgeously cut black suit, blood spattered over his hands. Pale blood. It’s streaked across his handsome features and through his dark blond hair, too. His fingers tighten, and the woman whimpers.
Bethany stands beside him, dwarfed in physical size, but with power every bit as evident as her high elder’s. Her near-black eyes shine with amusement as a cold smile pulls at one corner of her full lips.
Lachlan tightens his grip again. The woman’s feet kick frantically at the floor, and her lips move in a silent plea directed toward me.
My powers are still strong. I step closer, and Bethany winces, unable for a moment to disguise the pain my fire causes her.
Lachlan’s lip curls. He can’t feel it in me as she can, but he sees the golden shine of my eyes as I move closer.
Two sets of hands grab my arms—vampires not strong enough for me to feel them under more familiar, overwhelming presences. The woman slumps, unconscious, and Lachlan lets her fall to the floor.
“I told you our little Ava would come back to be a hero,” Bethany says.
“Aviva,” I whisper.
Lachlan nods past me, and one of the vampires slaps silver handcuffs on my wrists. I hold back a gasp as the metal burns into my skin. If Bethany hasn’t already figured out this side-effect of my fire, she’ll notice it soon enough. I just don’t want to let them see me squirm before they need to.
Another splash of colour catches my eye—a jade green sweater lying on the floor as if its owner laid it out to wear later, a ragged hole torn through the chest. I bet the wool smells like elegant perfume, the only reminder of a body now turned to dust.
Lachlan’s dark glare is the last thing I see before they pull a black bag over my head and drag me away.
16
There are many terrible things I could say about Lachlan, but I’ll give him this: he does his own dirty work.
Or I would give him that if I could think straight. His fist lands against my left cheek, sending supernovas exploding before my eyes, and it’s hard to focus on anything except the pain. Bethany releases me, and the blow’s momentum carries me across the floor. I land awkwardly on my side, my arm twisted beneath me.
I don’t get up. Any patience or mercy Lachlan might once have shown me is gone. Defiance won’t earn me respect tonight.
They’ve brought me to a small room I don’t recognize—stone walls, cold air, wooden benches against the walls. There’s nothing to tell me where we are, but focusing on the details keeps me from losing my shit. I push myself up onto my knees, focusing on a thin lightning-bolt crack that crosses the floor beneath me.
“You lied to me,” Lachlan says. I wish he sounded hurt or bewildered. Anything but the raw anger that burns
in each word. The shining toe of his right shoe catches me under my ribs before I can brace myself. My next breath comes rough, ragged, and painful.
My jaw pops as I open my mouth. “No one can lie to you.”
“So I thought.” He grabs a handful of hair at the top of my head and hauls upward, and I have no choice but to force my legs to support me if I don’t want it all ripped out by the roots. “But you did, didn’t you?”
My lips move, but for a few seconds, no sound comes out. “I—I didn’t. I was just careful. I made myself believe—”
The side of my head meets the concrete wall, and something cracks. I grit my teeth. I won’t cry. Won’t beg.
It wouldn’t help me if I did, and I refuse to give him the satisfaction.
Lachlan pulls me close again. “No one deceives me as you did,” he whispers into my ear. When he pulls away and looks at me again, his eyes are wide and strained. “I knew you were choosing your words carefully, presenting the truth in ways that made it most palatable to me. But for you to get away with…” He bares his fangs at me, and my knees go weak with fear. I’ve never faced such rage from a creature as powerful as he is. I had a peek behind his refined veneer once and believed I’d seen the truth.
I had no idea how much scarier he could get.
Bethany clears her throat softly, and Lachlan seems to come back to himself. Unceremoniously, he releases his hold, dropping me.
“You said you wanted what I offered,” he says as he untangles long strands of blond hair from his fingers and drops them to the floor with a look of distaste. “And though I detected hesitation, I did not find a lie.”
I curl into a ball and wrap my arms around my knees. “Because I wasn’t lying. You made a good offer. When I wasn’t letting myself think about what the world would lose in the bargain, I did want it.”
“I still believe you have information I require,” he says. “I tried tempting you with rewards, and you betrayed me. Shall we see how long it takes to find the truth this way?”
“What do you want to know?”