Was last night a full moon or something? Everyone but her got laid. It was difficult to discern how many there were, so she counted feet and divided by two. Five vamps in total. It didn’t matter whether they were female or male—fangs were fangs, and death didn’t discriminate.
It sickened her to imagine why the young vamps were here. Had Lamere decided to celebrate her and Davyn’s attack by inviting some friends over for a party? Do it here, where they’d almost caught him, to rub it in that they hadn’t?
Ignoring the group on the bed, she searched the rest of the house, double-checking for the one who didn’t pass out at dawn. Lamere. Nope. He must have left sometime before sunrise, if he’d been here at all.
She headed back into the bedroom. One of them might know where he went. Unfortunately, she couldn’t just shake one awake and say, ‘Sorry to wake you, but do you know where Lamere might have gone after he got off you?’
She’d gotten a few tips from the horrible experience with Thom in Montreal, including the only way to wake up a young vamp during the day—unless you had the blood of a really old and powerful vamp in your pocket. Hers were completely empty, and Lamere wasn’t big on sharing,
She still had some daylight left before they woke naturally, so there was no need to hurry and risk making a mistake. With that in mind, she went back out to her car for heavier equipment.
After wrapping all the vamps in heavy silver chain, she watched the tendrils of smoke rise from everywhere the metal touched their skin. Then she woke up a male by stabbing him in the chest, an inch away from his heart.
Now that’s a shitty alarm clock. He jerked upwards until the chain forced him back down, his eyes wide and furious. Screaming, he looked at his chest as the leg under his head moved.
Thank you, Thom…and Davyn, I guess.
“Take it out!” the vamp shouted.
“Sure, in just a minute. First, I have a—”
Then her brilliant and careful plan completely went to hell. His screaming and writhing woke the others up. As they moved, the silver chain loosened in places, allowing a few appendages to snake out.
It wasn’t possible! She still had more daylight! She looked for a window, a reason this was happening, what she’d screwed up, but all of the ones in this room were blacked out. Lamere must have fed his guests before he left. Which meant the probability they knew where he’d gone had just increased tenfold. If she could subdue one…
She should run, get to sunlight. But the effects of his blood were obviously wearing down, or none of them had gotten much. There was a chance she could take a few of them out while they were still groggy and partially trapped by the chain.
Make a decision, and make it now. Shit, she couldn’t run away again. She shoved her other stake into the vamp still pinned on the bottom by his bedmates. One down, one injured, and three very pissed-off looking females.
“Hey, ladies.” She backed up, drawing her blade as they crawled off each other and the bed. “Didn’t mean to wake you all, just him. But since you’re up...any chance you know where Lamere—”
The one in front hissed and came at Keira with fangs and dragon-lady nails out. Keira ducked and managed a non-fatal slash across the vamp’s thigh. When the next one lunged forward, Keira sliced through an artery and then hit bone. With another jerk of her arm, the vamp dropped to her knees, her head hanging sideways, her neck only half-attached, blood spraying out the opposite side.
Keira would throw up later if she was still alive. She used her knife to keep the vamp still until she shoved the stake deep into her chest. With a knife in one hand and a stake in the other, she fought. It wasn’t about killing them anymore, although that would’ve been nice. It was about getting past them with enough time to get to the door. But with two grumpy females coming at her, time was fleeting.
She jumped on the bed and bounced a few steps until someone grabbed her by the ankle and yanked her down. The male she’d put her first stake into, obviously in a lot of pain but still strong enough to hold her for the other two.
Barely catching herself before falling on top of him, she pulled the stake out of his chest and then drove it back in, this time directly into his heart. As the male dusted, a hand clamped down on her bicep. She whirled the knife around, slicing her own arm while ridding the vamp of a few fingers.
“Bitch!” The vamp’s scream filled the air as she threw Keira into the wall.
“At least no one will expect you to give any hand jobs until that heals.” The second vamp laughed at her friend, who was holding her two-fingered hand out in front of her.
“Shut up, you bitch!”
While the two were distracted by their catfight, Keira slid low along the wall towards the door hoping they wouldn’t notice her. They did.
She tucked her knife behind her back as she was yanked off the floor. “If you kill me, you’ll get in trouble. So let’s just all say we’re sorry, and go our separate ways.” Her feet were fully stretched out as she tried to get her toes on the ground.
“Is she serious?” Her fist wrapped in Keira’s shirt, the vamp slammed her against the wall again, baring her fangs.
“Wait, is that Lamere’s human?”
“What?”
“Look at her stomach.”
If Keira wasn’t trying to hide the knife in her hand, and her other arm didn’t feel broken, she would’ve yanked her shirt down.
“Damn it. Should we keep her for him?”
No fucking way. Keira brought her knee up to the female’s crotch, a move that would’ve worked far better on a man. But any time the knee bone connects with the pelvic bone, pain is involved.
The vampire shoved herself away, letting Keira slide down a bit, enough to feel the ground again. She slumped down farther, as if her weakness was overwhelming. Something she didn’t feel very often. Usually only when her sanity was at risk, not her life.
“You imbecile,” one of them said. “Did you kill her?”
“No. At least I don’t think so. Well…” When the vamp kicked her, Keira barely held in the grunt. “Yeah, probably. He’s going to be pissed.”
“Shit. Okay, let’s take her to the place on Lincoln Avenue. Jimmy can clean up the body, get the stench of your blood off her, and we’ll fix this place up. Then when Lamere finds out she’s dead, he’ll think a human did it. But we need to have it perfect by the time he comes back.”
“No way can we get rid of all this blood in three days.” She cursed. “I hate cleaning up after humans.” The vamp used her other hand to yank Keira up by the chin. She stared into the vamp’s eyes as her blade ran deep, slicing all the way through the female’s neck. The vamp released her grip on Keira and slumped to the ground.
The other vamp paused for just a moment and then jumped over her friend’s body. Even before she landed, Keira’s boot hit her in the stomach, shooting her backwards. She stumbled on the body, giving Keira enough time to kick her once more and then slice her throat open again. Deeper this time. Blood gushed out, gurgling from places Keira didn’t want to think about. The female’s hands moved by themselves, trying to protect the rest of her body, knowing how close to decapitation she was.
But a vamp wasn’t dead until it either had a stake through its heart or its head was completely off. So Keira leaned down and sawed through vertebrae, trying to find the space in between the bones so it would be done. If she’d had a stake, it would’ve been faster. The vamp wouldn’t have been able to struggle, clutching Keira, desperately trying to stop what was happening.
So slow. Sickening. Worse than any death Keira had witnessed or been a part of, save maybe her own. She gagged while prying the vamp’s hands off her, so she could just finish what she needed to. Why didn’t she just accept the inevitable? There was no way out for her, no way this wouldn’t end in her dusting. But she kept fighting, and that fighting made her death take even longer. Every sound the knife made as it scraped bone echoed through the room along with Keira’s harsh breaths.
“Stop!” Keira wiped at the moisture she felt on her cheeks, not knowing if it was tears or blood. “Die! Just die. Please.” It took less than two minutes for the vamp to finally do what she was told.
By the time Keira straightened, she felt like she’d gained a hundred pounds, heavy and burdened. The bodies were gone, replaced by dust, but the blood was still there, spattered onto every wall, pooling on the wood floor. Thankfully, the room was dark enough that all the blood looked black, helping her pretend it wasn’t what it was. Twenty minutes ago, the rug under her feet had been white, now it was dark except for a few lighter patches. Lamere would probably keep it that way, probably treasure it more.
As soon as she stumbled out of the room and into the light, she saw it. Her arms, shirt, hands stained red.
And it was beautiful.
She didn’t want to be like this, didn’t want to find pleasure in something so horrific. Didn’t want to be walking away from a massacre she’d caused. That she’d come out alive didn’t seem like anything to celebrate when every fight reminded her of what a monster she was, how sick she was, how inhuman.
But instinct is sometimes more powerful than self-hatred, so she kept walking, tripping over her light and not bothering to pick it up, unable to stop moving forward, to get out of this goddamn place. His place. Again. The worst version of hell she could imagine…and could never forget.
Twenty-Four
Someone was pounding on Davyn’s skull, maybe inside his skull. He rolled over and put a pillow over his head, melted synthetic fibers scratching his cheek. He’d paid a fortune to make sure everything in his apartment was demon-proof. Must have been a really bad night.
“Never hire a mage to do a demon’s job,” he grumbled. The knocking continued, and then he heard the hunter’s voice.
“Davyn!”
He popped up before he realized what a horrible mistake that was. Being a demon meant that while he had an extremely expensive tolerance for alcohol, his hangover would be completely gone after a shower, a huge amount of food, and a little tour around some stupid human’s head. Until then, he remembered hell being less painful.
“Let me in!”
He dragged himself out of bed and went to open the door.
The little hunter glared at him, her hip stuck out, her arms crossed over her chest. “I hope you had the best night of your entire existence, because making me wait all day for you to come to my place so you could have just an ‘okay’ night is unacceptable.” The last word was cut into five syllables, so what she was saying might actually be important. To her. “Is she still here?”
“What? Who?” he asked, unable and definitely unwilling to follow the conversation. She needed to stop talking so loudly.
“Your demon friend with benefits. If she’s still here, tell her not to try and kill me. Because I’m so pissed off right now, I would love to kick someone’s ass, but I would really prefer it be yours.”
“Consider my ass all yours then, ’cause nobody else is here.” He stood back to let her in, feeling like there was something he should remember. “I need a shower.” That much he knew.
She stormed past him, looking around. “You need to put on some pants, too.”
“If my cock is too distracting, I can put it in someone.” He heard her gasp. “Oops. Did I say someone? Good. ’Cause that’s what I meant.” He went by the kitchen to grab something to eat and then headed for the bathroom. He turned on the hot water and had finished off an apple, a pear, and half a box of Girl Scout cookies before he saw steam. Scalding water battered his shoulders and chest, slowly waking him up, washing the agony away. He’d be himself after some more food and tempting some human into doing something stupid. Maybe he’d go out for breakfast or lunch or whatever meal was appropriate for what time it was. What time had she—?
“Fuck!” He ripped the shower curtain off its rings and thundered into the living room, yelling, “How do you know where I live?”
“I have skills,” she snapped, not moving as he came barreling towards her.
He grabbed her by the arm. “That’s impossible. I don’t use the door unless I—” Unless he brought something back—food usually, but in last night’s case, it had been a carton of liquor bottles, most of which were now empty. “You followed me from the liquor store last night.”
“No, I followed you from a grocery store a few days ago. Are you going to let go of me, or am I going to kick you in the face?”
Getting too soft, asshole. Needing to eat more often. Buying out half a liquor store. Because he was hanging out with her, being corporeal, and it was making him sloppy.
He shoved her backwards. “You can’t know where I live. How I live. You can’t. Fuck, hunter, it’s not allowed.”
“Why not? You know where I live.”
“Yeah well, your Master won’t burn down your building and anyone unlucky enough to be inside just because I’ve been to your place.”
Damage control. Think damage control. His hangover still lingered, blurring his thinking. He needed the toxin gone now, quickly. This was the hunter’s fault, so she would help, whether she wanted to or not. “This may sting a little.” Before she got out a full word, he’d picked her up and pressed her body to his. “You can squirm in my arms now or burn in hell later. What’ll it be?” When he heard her scream, he knew he’d gone too far, expended too much, too quickly. He let her go.
“You bastard.” She backed away slowly, her arms still crossed.
“If I can’t think straight, things will get a whole lot worse.” Now that his head was clear, he relaxed. The building would already be on fire if the Devil knew or had a problem with her being here. So this was actually the safest place for them to be until Davyn could figure out a way to sneak her out.
She was still breathing heavily, glaring, holding her body differently than she usually did, tighter and with less confidence. Shit, how badly had he hurt her? “Listen, I didn’t—”
“You should’ve been there. If you were there…”
It only took him a couple seconds to understand he had no idea what she was talking about.
“If I was where? What happened?” He walked closer and forced her arms apart, then opened her jacket. What the hell? Her shirt was covered in blood. Over her breasts, on her belly. “What the fuck happened to you?” He pulled her shirt up, looking for the injury. “Tell me! Where is it? Did it heal?” His hands were frantic as he turned her, yanking her jacket off, looking for where the blood came from. Her black pants didn’t show red, but there was a rip in the denim over one knee, and that knee was nothing but blood. “Damn it, hunter. Tell me where it’s coming from!”
“It isn’t mine.” Her voice was stone, her body unmoving except for the jarring his panic caused, like a doll…or a human who’d lost their soul.
No fucking way. “What happened to you?” He spun her to face him, holding her arms so tightly she winced. But he didn’t let go. Because she’d winced. And that meant she was still feeling, still could feel. Which meant that he could still breathe.
“I swear, hunter, if I could have a heart attack… Whose blood is it?”
“You’re hurting me.” She clawed at his hands. “Let go. It burns.”
He released her quickly, but his agitation wasn’t nearly as simple to let go of. “Tell me who the fuck the blood belongs to. Lamere? You shouldn’t have gone back there without me. Did you get him?”
She shook her head, rubbing her arms where he’d held her. She still didn’t understand that there was no place in this world where someone like her wouldn’t get hurt.
“Lamere wasn’t there,” she said. “Some other vamps were, though. I’ve never fought more than four at once.”
“It’s daytime.” At least it would’ve been while she was there. “Why didn’t you just leave?”
“They were at his place, Davyn. If they were staying at his place, they had to know the girls were being kept there. And they might have known where Lamere went.”
<
br /> They might have. “But they can’t tell us now because they’re all dead, right?”
Her lower lip trembled—the most human emotion he’d seen in her by far. Between that and the amount of blood on her, the fight must have been horrible.
“If you’d been there like you were supposed to”—she sniffled, then straightened, looking embarrassed for having shown any weakness—“we could have captured one of them.”
“So this is my fault?” He glanced around the room for a way out, momentarily ignoring the fact that he could leave any time he wanted to. “No way. You didn’t have to go today. And, fuck, once you saw how many there were, why didn’t you walk out the door and call me?”
She was silent, but her expression changed just enough for him to understand her unspoken question—What good would that have done?
Normally? In any other moment of his existence? It wouldn’t have done shit. He probably wouldn’t have picked up the phone or, if he had, he would’ve made a joke about her funeral or what she’d look like once the vamps were done with her and then hung up. And that was if he was feeling kind. But now…?
“Don’t count on me,” he shouted. “Ever. It’s a mistake. Demons aren’t reliable or trustworthy. We don’t care about anyone but ourselves. Understand? If you’d called, maybe I would’ve come.” No, he would have. He would’ve been there the second she asked because he did care about someone other than himself. He just didn’t want to—care, or be relied on, trusted. He’d never imagined she would go without him. They were—
“No,” he said. “You don’t get to risk your fucking life to spite me for not showing up.”
“You don’t understand,” she mumbled.
“You’re fucking right I don’t understand.” The water in his hair sizzled when he put his hand through it. “You’re good, hunter, but not good enough to take out a pack of them. You’re lucky you brought that many stakes.”
Unearthed Page 21