by Sarra Cannon
Oh stuff it. She raised the bass chords and shrugged.
“Ah, so you’ve learned of your origins, have you?” Strife shoved a shoulder between the bars.
“Uh-huh.” Her lips curled into a smile as she imagined her grandfather’s face. My grandfather. Felt nice to acknowledge it. She watched the vampire try to stuff her body through the narrow opening. A memory swarmed in the back of her mind. The van, the first time she met Strife, the conversation, her grandfather. “Strife?”
“Yes?” She didn’t look up or stop her ministrations. With her hip cocked sideways, one booted foot in the aisle and the rest of her body still in the cell, she looked like a contortionist—a bad one.
“The first time we met, when you tried to kidnap me—”
“Protect you,” she said between clenched teeth. Her fangs rested on her bottom lip and lines broke out over her forehead. Her focus shifted to expelling all the air from her lungs and making her upper body smaller.
“Yeah, protect me, whatever.” Sera waved her hand at the word choice. “Anyway, you said you knew about me from my grandfather. And again that you got a message from him saying I was in Calgary. How do you know him?”
Strife stilled. Her head snapped up. She pulled her body back into the cell with a groan. “Again, I act the fool. I’m beginning to wonder who of us is the elder.”
The fluorescent lights dimmed as if matching the sudden change in mood. Gray shadows flickered off the walls and silence permeated the room. Sera stepped forward and reached her arm between the cell bars. Four feet separated their prisons. She had no hope of reaching the vampire from her side, but for some reason she felt a strange kinship. A quiet sadness radiated from Strife’s icy exterior. It lay masked behind dark clothes and a frigid demeanor, but still it snuck out if one took the time to look. “Try not to beat yourself up. We’ll figure a way out of here.”
Their eyes met, deep black ones filled with secret pain looked into chocolate brown that hid the same buried hurts. Strife nodded, a slight incline of her head, no more, but it was enough. Sera smiled. “Now, tell me about my grandfather. How do you know him?”
“I don’t. Not personally.” Strife’s posture relaxed. Her arms dropped away from her chest and fell to her sides. Even her facial muscles eased, making her look no older than a teenager. She slipped into a more casual tone too. “He, along with his brothers and sisters, has long guided Veritas, even before my time. They give us signs and messages to help us hunt those who would harm others.” Her hands wrapped around the bars once more, but she didn’t tug at them. “It’s how we discovered you. When you experienced your power for the first time eight years ago, your grandfather feared the results. He couldn’t reach out to you as long as you continued to deny your abilities. But he believed you needed to be watched just in case. So we kept an eye on you to ensure you didn’t use your powers to the detriment of others.”
“Why not come out in the open? Why the secrecy?” A burning sensation that had nothing to do with her fire and everything to do with anger bubbled to the surface. “Why leave me alone?”
“You must understand, Sera, every supernatural comes into their power in their own way and time. If we didn’t allow you to grow, you may never have learned to control it.” She raised a slim shoulder, then let it fall. “Besides, your grandfather assured us your link to the Luminarium would manifest faster without our interference.”
“Guy,” Sera muttered.
“What?”
“Nothing.” She shook her head. “It’s just sometimes I’d rather that particular link didn’t have to be so annoying.”
“Ah. Yes, well, I’m afraid all power comes with a price.” She flashed her fangs, digging them into her lip. Two drops of blood trickled to her chin. She licked them with one quick swipe.
Yuck. Sera kept the grimace to herself, but couldn’t stop her stomach from rolling.
“Seems I’m not the only one who’s hungry.” Strife laughed a musical note like raindrops on a windowpane. “What say we get out of here?”
“Sounds good to me. Any suggestions?”
“Well, squeezing through the bars is out.” She laughed again. This time the sound rose higher and projected outward, a sound like a hummingbird’s wings on a spring breeze.
Sera smiled. “Yeah, um, maybe we can try something else.”
“Agreed.” Her black eyes widened too innocently. “Thoughts?”
Sera poked her head between the bars and scanned the aisle. The long corridor housed more cells and a door at each end. She titled her chin and ran her gaze over the ceiling. It appeared smooth with no cameras in sight, but she didn’t doubt at least one or two remained hidden. She worried her lip, stepped some paces back in the cell and stared at the bars. Slow warmth crawled from her core, outward to her shoulders, down her upper arms, over her elbows, and into her hands. Her palms tingled with the heat. The bars blurred into a single mass as she continued to stare.
“I’ve got an idea.” Nodding to Strife, she seized the bars in the middle of the row, one in her right hand and one in her left. The metal heated under her touch. She kept her concentration centered on the rising fire, but called out a warning to the vampire. “Stand back. All the way back. I’m going to try something.”
Strife’s boots tapped over the floor, heading away from the aisle, toward the back of her cell. Sera didn’t lift her head. Her eyes zeroed in on the bars. She imagined them melting in a pool of liquid metal. Directing all her energy to the thought, she ratcheted up the heat until her fingers glowed and her insides morphed to molten lava.
Guy stirred. Need a boost, pet?
Sure, but don’t try to take over. I’m running the show. Sera clamped her teeth together and locked her arms.
Whatever you say. His presence faded as it sank into her mind. The merge set a blaze coursing from the tips of her toes to the top of her head. Even her hair danced in the firelight as if the strands became living flames.
She sank her feet into the floor to ground her body. The explosive burn reached a crescendo and leapt from her skin. She fought to maintain her concentration and direct the fire. “Come on. Come on.” Her pleas came out strained as she struggled with the intensity of her power. “Please.”
It’s alright, Sera. Do not be afraid. Her grandfather’s voice whispered in her ears. You can do this.
She smiled as she felt a gentle hand on her shoulder. Her grandfather believed in her. She wouldn’t let him down. “Okay,” she said, bolstering her courage. “I will do this.”
The heat seeped into her skin and flowed through her bloodstream. With her mind clear and centered on her task, she controlled the fire’s path. The bars began to glow orange and red. The metal cracked under the pressure, melting in her hands. When she created a sizeable hole, she flicked her fingers toward the ceiling and aimed her palms at the opposite cell. A wave of flames shot four feet across the aisle and struck the metal bars of Strife’s prison. The temperature soared until a sweat broke out on Sera’s brow. She inhaled, allowing the warm air to soothe her, become a part of her.
“You’re almost there,” Strife called out. The words struck like thunder in a raging storm.
The blaze forged a hole in the bars, but licked the floor and ceiling in the process. When the spaces grew big enough for Strife and her to fit through, Sera tried to pull back the flames, but knew it was a lost cause. “We have to get out of here. I can’t stop it.”
“You’ll get no arguments from me.” Strife slipped passed the opening and patted stray flames from her clothes. Black smoke wafted from the blaze, engulfing the aisle. “This way.”
Sera crept through the bars. The fire danced along her skin, but didn’t burn her. She disentangled her body from the licking flares, pushing them away as if they were petulant children. When the visibility shot to zero and an ashen cloud filled her lungs, she coughed and swat at the air. “Str-str-ife?”
A firm hand encircled her wrist and dragged her from the haze. They ra
n. Their shoes thumped over the floor. Sera’s breaths came out as gasps. She tried not to panic, relying on the vampire’s keen eyesight to lead them out of this mess.
“Stop.” Strife halted midstep, leaving Sera to barrel into her. The vampire huffed, pushing Sera a foot from her, then she slammed into something unseen. A creaking sound broke through the dense fog and fresh air pulled the smoke like a magnet. “Here now.”
Ground lights illuminated a stairwell. Sera stepped onto the landing and peeked over the rail. The steps led down and down like looking into a row of endless mirrors. She gulped and glanced at Strife. The vampire could make it to the ground level in no time. Maybe even jump to the bottom. Sera slowed her down. “Go,” she said, pointing to the floor. “You’ll go faster without me. The fire won’t hurt me.” She tried to put on a brave face. Even though the fire might not burn her, she couldn’t breathe smoke.
Strife’s mouth fell open, but her words were drowned by a blaring alarm. The building’s sprinkler system kicked on and a downpour of freezing water sprayed them. The vampire’s rainy laughter cut the sirens. She shouted over the roar. “I wouldn’t miss the fun. I haven’t seen this much action in decades.” She grabbed Sera’s wrist again and bolted for the stairs. “Follow me.”
They soared over the steps with their feet hardly touching the floor. Sera moved faster than a human, but the vampire’s speed put her to shame. Strife flew, hauling Sera with her, as if the laws of physics didn’t apply to their movements. Forty stories quickly transformed into thirty, then twenty. When they hit the nineteenth floor, a wall hindered their steps…a wall of phage.
“Thank you for your help, Ms. Benenati.” Adriana called from the landing. Her heels clicked on the steps as she rounded the corner and came into view a half flight away. A long red peacoat silhouetted her tall thin frame. Black gloves, hat and scarf prepared her for the cold Calgary weather. The outfit must have been stifling as fires ate up the building. The sprinklers outmatched.
Sera stiffened, pulling her hand from Strife’s grip and placing a foot on the bottom step. She started to run up the stairs, ready to strike the phage bitch, but paused as an army of phage gathered snapping their wide jaws. Spit dripped from their mouths. They shuffled down from the landing above and stomped up the steps from below.
“Have fun,” Adriana called and disappeared up the next stairwell. The phage protected her retreat.
“Shit,” Sera muttered. As the phage filed along, boxing them in, she deviated from the stairs and planted her feet on the landing. Her hands filled with heat. With a quick nod, Strife took up a similar stance, standing back-to-back with Sera. A hum of power vibrated through the vampire and sent a jolt up Sera’s spine. She smiled at having the three hundred year old vampire on her side, then focused on the phage surrounding them at every corner.
Not for the first time, she wished her fake psyke identity held a grain of truth. What she wouldn’t give to communicate telepathically with the vampire. Coordinating their strikes would be so much easier. She refused to let the uncertainty show on her face as she calculated how many they could take out before getting swarmed. When the phage kept coming, her chest constricted until the slightest intake of air became impossible. A startling truth hit her full force. Unless Strife hid some amazing vampire ability, or Sera leveled the building with an explosive fire, the phage would kill them. No matter their choice, they had no chance of making it out alive.
Chapter 31
APARTMENT COMPLEX, CALGARY, ALBERTA
Talon stopped the truck and dashed for the nearest entrance. Fires blazed from the apartment’s windows like beasts devouring prey in a glowing inferno. Smoke leapt from the walls, transforming the early gray morning into a nightmare black. Alarm bells blasted from the building’s emergency unit and spread the call over the city.
The knob seared his hand, but Talon didn’t slow. He ripped open the door, breaking it from its hinges. Drake and Val ran close on his heels. Shifter adrenaline surged through his body, accelerating his speed and strength, but fear—mortal gut wrenching fear—gripped his heart, making it beat triple time.
“Find her,” he growled. Raising an arm to shield his eyes from the fumes, he peered inside. A stairwell corralled the smoke into its midst and blocked their views. Trying to capture Sera’s scents proved useless with the fire’s toxins cutting off all other aromas. He cursed his frustration.
“We’ve got to cut the alarm,” Drake shouted close to his ear. “Then, maybe we could hear something.” He slapped the walls and disappeared into the dense vapors. The whining alarm stopped seconds later. When he reemerged, he sputtered and coughed, but held a bunch of wires in his fist. He grinned. “Quick and easy.”
Val rolled her eyes. “I’ve got another idea,” she said, standing to Talon’s opposite side. She walked up the stairs and motioned for them to follow. Her hands flew about like a composer, sending rushes of wind through the corridor. With her unique ability from her psyke-shifter mix, she could control air particles. The smoke swirled in circles, rising in a steady mist to the ceiling and floating out the door. It cleared a path along the steps to the next landing.
“Good work, both of you.” Able to hear his own thoughts, and with the air washed anew, he shifted, expanding his lungs and nose to take in and decipher the smells. Notwithstanding Val’s cleaning, scents remained. They seeped from the walls, across the floors, and along the banister. He inhaled again and again, desperate to find something familiar, as they made their way up a flight at a time. When they reached the fourth level, a buzzing at his belt forced him to stop.
“Be quick. We’re inside.” He snapped into the phone.
“Gotcha boss.” Slick’s voice gave him a temporary reprieve. Despite the gravity of the situation, it was good to hear his friend alive and well. “We’re outside. Four of us.”
“Glad you made it. Can you get up to the roof and scan the floors top down?” Talon’s gut clenched as he issued the order. With the building on fire, it’d be a dangerous job, but he needed the place swept.
“Jame and I aren’t in peak form, but I’d say with Shooter’s help, we’re up to hauling a lazy ass Texas vamp a ways.” A muffled grunt came through as Slick must have cupped the receiver. “Bull’s looking forward to a lift.” He laughed. “See you on the way down.”
“Slick?” The phone still held a connection. “You can handle that shift?”
“Yeah, boss. Birds aren’t my specialty, but I’ll make it.”
A sliver of time passed as hot currents wafted to them from the floor overhead. It heated the metal banister and warned Talon of the peril he was about to put his team in. “Alright.” His hand went to the nape of his neck, wiping at the light layer of sweat. “Wouldn’t want to have you out of commission so soon after getting you back, be careful.”
“Always am.” The call ended.
He shoved the phone in his pocket and sniffed the air once more. Waving Drake and Val to continue, he headed to the next level. “Eyes open. Let’s roll.” They followed without question. His nasal passages kicked into overdrive, pulling in every odor and analyzing it faster than he could process. At the ninth level, the hairs on his arms stood on end and a prickling sensation raised bumps on his skin. “Stop.”
Burnt flesh, the same charred odors from the warehouse, assailed him first. Screaming echoes bounced off the walls, faint to start but growing louder. Talon signaled for them to continue. They moved faster with each floor they passed. By the twelfth level, the scent hit him. The one he wanted—needed—more than any other. Fresh laundry and a touch of apple. Her scent. Sera.
“We’re close. Stay on guard.” He slowed their pace as they stalked by the giant number fifteen painted on the wall. His gun rested in its shoulder holster, warm against his chest. He bypassed the manmade weapon for something far more primal. Bones snapped under his skin, covering his hands in brown fur. The grizzly bear’s massive paw pads prevented him from drawing a weapon, but provided the perfect remedy—f
our inches of sharp curved claws.
A cry lit the air at the seventeenth level. Phage bodies tumbled down the stairs, knocking Val over. Her shoulder slammed into his ribcage. He groaned, using the underside of his paws to steady her. “Are you—”
“Get down!” She dragged him to his knees as a fire bolt came hurdling toward them.
Drake leapt over the banister, plummeting to the next platform to avoid the inferno. He let out a “bleeding hell” as he hit bottom, then scrambled back to them in a blur.
The team got their bearings, but another wave of phage descended the stairs. Their limp forms rolled in a frenzy as the flames engulfed them.
“Sera,” Talon muttered. Without another word, he ducked around the bodies and took the steps two at a time. One flight up, a wall of phage blocked his passage. He growled, drawing their attention. Turning as a single unit, they dove for him. Jaws snapped and arms flailed as they fought. Talon swiped at the nearest phage with his claws, drawing a deep gouge on the creature’s chest. The phage howled, but kept coming as if the wound didn’t bother it. “Get them out of the way,” he called to Val and Drake who sprinted to catch up. “I don’t care what you have to do.”
Wind currents blew passed him. A funnel spun in the center of the phage, pushing them to the edge of the stairwell and over the sides. Val’s dancing hands led the show. Drake took cue from her and tackled the phage, ripping at their throats with his fangs. A red glaze seeped into his black eyes. Talon showed no mercy, echoing his partners and slashing at the phage without hesitation.
As they hacked and sliced a path through the mindless creatures, the fires grew ever higher and hotter. Blood coated the front of Talon’s shirt, morphing the plain gray t-shirt to a shiny crimson black. His paws became slow and heavy. He shifted them to normal hands and wiped the red muck on his jeans. With the phage occupied by Val’s winds, Drake’s fangs, and the increasing flames, he took a second to scan the area. When his eyes rose to the nineteenth landing, he froze.