Angel: Private Eye Book One

by Odette C. Bell

  Chapter 12

  I was on my bed. Reading. About vampires, about demons, about every aspect of this magical world. I was also looking for something. A frigging magical bullet. Anything to get me out of this contract and out of this goddamn city, too.

  Mr. Marvelous was still in a good mood. It had been three days since I’d signed the contract to kill Van Edgerton, and Marvelous had barely lifted a finger to help me. In fact, he was going around changing the merchandise for the shop, using my grinning face to attract customers with the byline “Vampires? No problem.”

  I groaned as I settled further under the covers and hid my head in the file book.

  I’d read the section on vampires over and over again, but no matter how many times I read it, the frigging information changed. It updated as frequently as a Wikipedia article.

  I crammed my thumb into my teeth and chewed on my nail for about the 50th time that day. The nail was now so ragged I was starting to taste blood. Did I stop? Hell no.

  The vampire who’d made me sign the contract – Betty – was staying at Sarah’s place. And Sarah was strangely cool with this. Apparently, the two had struck up a friendship after I’d left. There were so many things wrong with that that I couldn’t even begin to list them. Instead, I just crammed my finger even harder into my mouth. “Oh God, come on, there must be some kind of clue here.”

  I had a scribble pad beside my bed where I was keeping rough notes from what I’d learned.

  Vampires, apparently, only ever ate eggs for breakfast. Well, if there wasn’t any blood. It was something to do with protein balance and hormone production.

  Fascinating. No really, it would have been fascinating to somebody studying vampire biology. It was a goddamn waste of time for a girl with four days left to kill a vampire lord.

  Eventually, I grew suitably tired of thumbing through the well-worn pages of the file book, and I shoved it back, collapsing onto my bed with a suitable groan. “Oh God, God, I’m going to die.”

  Mr. Marvelous was out again.

  When Marvelous had signed me to his detective agency, he’d promised me training. Supervision. He said he’d turn me into the best private investigator in Hope City.

  But here I was, agonizing over figuring this out and saving my freaking life, and he was out. Doing what? I had no idea. It didn’t matter, though. I was alone.

  Completely frigging alone. I wasn’t stupid enough to bring Sarah in on this, and Betty could hardly offer me any help. The few times I’d been stupid enough to call her, she’d just brushed me off, telling me to use whatever stupendous ability I’d conjured to kill the glass demon. Preferably soon so she could get back out on the town and hit the best vamp bars.

  There was one person, however, who had offered to help me, and someone who undoubtedly had the ability to come through on that promise.

  William bloody Benson. He’d offered to take the contract off my hands, use his vampiric ability to null and void it, and otherwise keep me safe from Theodore and my stupid self. With only one catch. I had to come work for him. Sign my little life away to the vampire king.

  I, of course, hadn’t done that.

  Yet. As true nerves goaded me like a bull on the rampage, I wondered how much longer I could hold out. Maybe until the morning of my last day? Maybe I’d fall into his office, a sobbing mess, scramble over to his shoes, kiss them, and beg him to help me.

  Just the thought of it made me want to gag.

  That day I sat around on my bed, mooching between the kitchen where I’d made myself a massive batch of fudgy brownies and back to my bed. I was in my slippers, my socks, and my favorite pair of bunny rabbit pajamas.

  Mr. Marvelous would be out again all day, and God knows no one respectable ever came to the shop.

  In fact, nobody ever came to the shop at all. Marvelous just seemed to know when we had a case, without receiving a phone call or a letter or a message.

  So I knew something was wrong when I heard footsteps.

  I knew something was wrong, because half a second later, a terrifying, blaring alarm ripped through the building. It was so powerful, it shook and rattled my teeth in my skull.

  “What the bloody hell is that?” I screamed as I crammed my hands over my ears.

  As the blaring continued, suddenly a bright colorful red and blue ball shot down the corridor. It darted right in front of my face and stopped a centimeter from my nose. A tiny, tiny mouth appeared over its smooth surface. “The shop is under attack. Repeat, the shop is under attack.”

  My hands still crammed over my ears, I stared at it in disbelief. “I don’t understand. How can the building be under attack?”

  That small glowing ball of light darted to and fro like some kind of confused fat dragonfly. “Building under attack. We must repel attack, defend perimeters. Wait for help.”

  Just as I opened my mouth to scream at the little ball that I had absolutely no idea what the hell was happening, the floor suddenly lurched to the side.

  It was very much like we were on a ship that was suddenly rammed by another vessel.

  Somehow – some goddamn how – the building actually listed.

  I was thrown sideways and had to lock a hand on the wall as my face was pushed into it.

  A second later, the building righted itself with an ominous creak.

  I was way past asking what was happening, and skipped smoothly to screaming like a banshee.

  That little ball flew right up to my face. Though it didn’t have eyes, somehow I was certain that its expressive mouth locked into a pleading frown. “You must repel boarders. Stave off the attack until the master can return.”

  The master was obviously Mr. Marvelous. That was the only obvious thing about this entire situation.

  As several chunks of dust flitted down from the ceiling and covered my sweat-lined brow, I shunted forward.

  That little ball of light followed me like a lost puppy, squeaking by my side. “Repel boarders. Repel boarders.”

  “Stop telling me that and start telling me how the hell I’m meant to do it,” I screamed.

  “Fire at the vampires climbing the outside walls.” The little fat dragonfly finally squeaked.

  “What? What the hell do you mean vampires climbing the walls?” I shrieked.

  As the building listed again like a submarine threatening to go under, I punched out a hand, locked it on the wall, and tumbled through an open doorway. It led to one of the many file offices that lined the shop.

  As the building jerked once more, and I rolled toward the wall, I caught sight of a window. Gritting my teeth and balancing long enough to haul myself up the wall, I stared outside. And shrieked. And shrieked. And shrieked. Move over, banshees. I no longer sounded like a screaming fiend of Hell; I took on the pitching voice of an army of screeching piglets.

  There were vampires climbing the sides of the walls. Faces absolutely crumpled with thin-lipped, sneering consternation, they looked exactly like they wanted to punch their way through the window and suck me dry.

  I shrieked again for good measure as I shoved violently away from the wall. Heartbeat thundering through my ears, I crumpled onto the floor and wrapped my shaking hands over my head. That, of course, wasn’t going to stop the attack.

  That magical ball kept swooping in and out in front of my face, the flying equivalent of somebody clutching my shoulders and shaking them. “No time to sit down. No time to rest,” it said, “Must repel boarders. Must buy the shop some time.”

  It would have been so easy to ignore that irritating orb, crumple my arms around my head, and try to pretend everything was a bad dream. Or, at least, it would have been easy if the building hadn’t chosen that exact moment to start shaking like a leaf in a hurricane. I was thrown over the floor and rolled until I managed to clutch hold of a desk leg.

  The magical ball began to screech. “They’ve reached the main door. Reached the main door. They’re trying to blow it open. You must attack. Attack.”

  �
�I don’t have weapons,” I screamed back.

  “Use the charm guns,” the magical ball darted forward and did the hovering equivalent of pointing at the charm bracelet jangling around my shaking wrist.

  My gaze darted down to it. I didn’t have the time to stare at it and wonder if loosening a charm locked around the gold bracelet would actually do anything against a horde of invading vampires.

  A second later, the window behind me shattered.

  I screamed as I crumpled forward, locked my hands over my head, and tried to scoot backward under a desk.

  I wasn’t quick enough.

  A vampire lurched toward me. It wasn’t an ordinary jump. Wasn’t even the kind of gymnastic leap a human Acrobat could manage. It was primal. Predatory. Had all the snapping grace of a leopard bounding down from its perch.

  The vampire snapped a hand around my throat and dragged me to my feet.

  I lashed out with everything, trying to catch hold of his face and scratch at his eyes, trying to kick at his shins and shove him off.

  It wouldn’t work.

  The guy was 100 times stronger than me, and as I saw a flash of his gaze, I realized he was 1000 times more brutal.

  He jerked my head forward until he sneered into my face. I expected to smell fetid disgusting breath like you would on a wild animal. I didn’t.

  He’d just brushed his teeth, and the rather pleasant minty aroma of mouthwash filled the air.

  Obviously vampires always prided themselves on their dental hygiene. It was probably the equivalent of a soldier always checking their gun before going into battle.

  I had just a few seconds to look up into his face and realize he was the creep who’d messaged me with the placards.

  He brought his sneering smile down, ran a long, pointed tongue over his teeth, and jerked my head to the side, intention obvious. Just before his glistening, saliva-covered fangs snapped down around my neck, his warning hissed by my ear, breath pushing my hair against my face, “Theodore is sending a warning, Lizzie Luck, no more games.”

  With that, the guy doubled forward, a drop of his saliva running down and settling on my neck.

  I jerked into action. More for his benefit than mine. Let those fiendish fangs draw even a drop of my blood, and I knew full well what would happen.

  My hand latched on one of the charms around the bracelet, and I tugged it free with a frenzied pull. At the same time, the little magical ball zoomed over and struck the guy hard on the back of the head. It was more than enough to get his attention. More than enough to buy me the time to throw the charm right in his face.

  God knows if I was doing the right thing. There was probably more finesse and nuance required to casting a charm bracelet spell. Finesse and nuance could go to hell because right now all I had was gut-punching fear.

  Miraculously, the charm didn’t strike the guy in the nose and do nothing more than make him sneeze. Instead, it stopped half an inch from his eyes, revolved to the right, then to the left, then… then it frigging exploded in a hail of magical sparks.

  Smoke erupted from it. Enough that I had to double back, cram a hand over my mouth, and heave my lungs out.

  Suddenly, somehow, miraculously, impossibly, the vampire’s nose broke. The snap of bone and crunch of ligament echoed through the air so loudly it was as if it’d been recorded and played back on an echoing PA system.

  The guy jerked backward, cramming both hands over his face as blood spluttered from his nostrils and leaped down his cheeks.

  I lay there on the floor, body a mess where he’d thrown me, and stared up at him, completely, absolutely, frigging shocked.

  It had worked.

  A snapped second later, the vampire got over his crushed nose and lurched toward me. He was down on his hands and knees, and moved forward with the ferocious speed of a tiger.

  He was upon me again, grabbing my wrists, nails digging over the sleeves of my pajama top.

  I screamed as I tried to bring up a knee and force it hard into his gut.

  Though my knee connected, it was a little like trying to bat away a speeding rhinoceros with nothing more than a tap of your hand.

  Something terrifying happened as a few droplets of the vampire’s blood slipped off his nose, sailed through the air, and splashed on my pajamas.

  They started to burn.

  And as one single drop fell from his cheek and splashed on my neck, I screamed. With everything I had. Because, Christ almighty, I’d never felt pain like this. In one frantic, panicked snap, my head threatened to explode.

  At first, the vamp appeared taken aback by my strong reaction to his blood. Then he appeared to figure it out. With a godawful smile crumpling his lips, he unlocked one hand from around my wrist, brought a finger up, carelessly dragged it over the blood along his cheek, then brought it down.

  Playfully, happily, like a puppy innocently chasing a butterfly, he tracked the blood over my cheek.

  In a snap, I went beyond screaming. Because, in a snap, my head exploded in pain. Stars swarmed over my vision, and my whole body became rigid as if I was seconds from dying.

  I had just enough time to hear the vampire laugh once more until I felt him reach down and touch one blood-covered finger over my lip.

  And I, Elizabeth Luck, passed out.