by Faith Hunter
The cage shook and dropped two feet. I stumbled and grabbed the ancient handrail to steady myself. “Going down,” I said. “Hopefully not at gravity speed.” I thought I heard Alex chortle, but someone cut off the sound.
The elevator ground its way down with no more drops. It opened on a floor I didn’t recognize, however, a musty area with no lights and a scent I remembered. I was one floor too high, on sub-four, the storage floor. And I was in a small, closed space. In the dark. I switched on my flash and saw clothes hanging in rows, circa somewhere in the early nineteen hundreds. The cloth was rotting and the clothing was falling off the padded hangers. I was in a closet. Still using the flash, I found the closet door and opened it to reveal a bedroom. No windows, lots of rotten wall hangings and wallpaper falling off the walls. It smelled of dust, dead insects, rot, black mold, and vaguely of a vamp I recognized. Adrianna. The room’s door was locked from the outside. Had the flame-haired beauty been kept prisoner here? Or kept a prisoner here?
Fortunately it was an old, old door. I drew on a little of Beast’s power and put one hand on the jamb. With the other hand I yanked on the knob. The hinges fell off and the door broke in splinters. I leaped back as it fell inward, and then forward through the broken opening. I was in a dark hallway. The Judge in a two-hand grip, held low at my thigh, the flash Velcroed to my wristband, I opened squeaky doors to the left and right, seeing nothing new, everything old, with lots of storage rooms stacked with trunks and furniture, smelling of things that were no longer in use.
Then I opened a door that didn’t squeak. Inside, the room was clean and modern. And a security console was set there. I tapped my mic and said, “Alex. I just found the physical location of the second security console you hacked and merged. I have no idea what to do with it. But mark my location and send someone down here later to officially hard-wire it into the routine one. On the orders of the Enforcer,” I added, in case Leo got ticked off when he heard about it and wanted to tear someone a new one. He could try that on me.
“Roger that, Janie,” Alex said. “And, hey, Jane? We might have a problem. Soul and about a dozen cop cars just pulled into the open gate and up to the front door.”
“Crap,” I said into the mic. “Do not try to stop them. Repeat, do not. Get Del up there to tell her what’s going on. Let them know it’s vamp business. Maybe that will keep them in one place until the legal beagles decide how to handle the sounds of gunfire on U.S. soil.”
“Will do.”
I backed out of the secondary security room and found a branching hallway with stairs up and down. I went down, my feet against the wall where the rotten treads might still be strong enough to support my weight.
It took me less than a minute to discover that the stairway went all the way to the lowest subbasement and a small pocket door. Carefully, silently, I lifted up on the small latch and slid the door open. Beyond was complete darkness. Which I totally did not expect. My body protected behind the jamb, I used my flash to inspect the room, and it was indeed the room where Joses lived—or hung undead on the wall, a rack of bones in a man-shaped bag of worn and torn leathery skin. I moved the flash across him for a moment—making sure he was still secured there—before taking in the rest of the room.
It was vacant, smelling of blood and death. The clay floor where the dead had lain was empty, only dark stains everywhere to show the recent deaths. Again, I shined the light on the wall where the prisoner hung. He was watching me, black eyes glittering in the dark, the metal of the wall picked out by the glare of the light.
I moved the flash back and forth, taking in everything. The thing’s talons were embedded in the brick of the wall; rusted iron and tarnished silver bands held him in place, the bands running horizontally around the room, attached to vertical I beams retrofitted in the corners. The holes where his fingers were buried, deep in the brick, showed exposed copper wires. I smelled the stink of burned flesh and ozone on the air. That hadda hurt. Yeah. He was nutso. But that might explain why there were brownouts and electrical problems.
Gee DiMercy appeared in my flash, just inside the room, but hovering, a foot off the floor. I jumped back in shock, and he laughed, his voice bouncing off the walls. I wanted to hit him, but he wasn’t really there. Just a shadow of himself, spectral as any ghost. “What!” I demanded, forcing my heart rate to slow, trying to catch my breath.
“The priestess speaks lies. She is full of deceit.” And he vanished.
I brought my heart rate under control and blew out my tension. Dang Mercy Blade.
I pushed the thought of Gee DiMercy away and chose where I would wait, to the left of the elevator. I stepped through, pulling the door behind me. I shot the flash over Joses and caught him smiling. It wasn’t a pretty sight. His fangs were like a sabertooth cat, upper and lower, and his tongue was a black strip jutting between his jagged incisors. Yuckers. I flipped the light away from the prisoner and stepped into the room.
“Aaaaah.” The breath echoed, bouncing back from the walls.
I flinched and spun, shining the flash back on the prisoner.
“I am visited yet again by U’tlun’ta, warrior of The People,” he said.
That didn’t sound insane, or not the gibbering insanity of the usual rogue vamp. Not wanting to actually chat, I grunted at him.
“Do you not bow? Do you not genuflect in the presence of one worshipped as a god?”
“Shut up,” I said as I considered the elevator door. This close, I could hear the sounds of gunfire and the shrill screams of the injured. And the thump as something or someone landed on the floor of the elevator shaft. But the door didn’t open. The gunfire continued. I crossed the room.
“Release me and I shall give you a third of my kingdom.” I heard the breath grate in his lungs and realized he was about to shout.
Midstep, I pulled a silver-plated throwing knife and focused the flash on him.
“I shall—”
I threw the blade. It spun through the dark and sank into his throat. He made a soft squeaking sound and went silent. “War Women do not miss,” I whispered, only partway lying, “not with knives.” Though he wasn’t dead, not even now. A vamp that old could heal from a dose of silver. However, it did take care of the annoyance factor.
I took my place beside the elevator door and steadied Wrassler’s Judge. The kick was gonna be bad, but if I managed to blow Peregrinus’ head off before the battle started down here, it would be worth it. That was the plan. Like I’d said, it was lousy. And simple. But sometimes lousy and simple were best.
From behind me, I heard a thump and flipped off my flashlight. The pocket door slid open. Light speared the darkness. Air whooshed down and into the basement. I smelled Bethany, Onorios, and humans in need of deodorant. Great. Just what I needed. Not.
“Spread out,” Bruiser murmured softly, barely at the edge of hearing. His voice was intended for his dedicated headset, one not tied into mine. I knew that because I heard his voice through the air, not through the electronics. “Get in position. Stay well away from the man on the wall.”
“Ain’t no man, dude. Ain’t human,” a human said.
“Better reason to stay from him,” Brandon or Brian said, humor in his voice.
By sound, I knew that they took up positions. Their flashlights never caught me in the glare, allowing me to decide what I wanted to do. And I decided not to share my position with them. I didn’t know how compromised Bruiser was. Or if he was. Or . . . It was too much to think about.
Readying the heavy gun in two hands, I took a stance with one heel braced on the wall and both knees bent. I lowered the weapon and relaxed my shoulders. Keyed my mouthpiece and tapped it twice, code for I’m in position.
I turned off the mouthpiece, breathed in and out, and shrugged my shoulders. Okay, Beast. I’m gonna need some of that time thing you do, I thought at her, for as long as you can hold it. Don’t let me down, girl.
Price will be high.
Yeah. I figured. And I
had hoped to never do this again. Silly me.
In the back of my mind Beast snorted and padded forward, taking up the forefront of my mind. She stared out through my eyes, which I kept turned away from the rest of the room to hide their glow. I stood in the dark, in a room with the Son of Darkness, armed Onorios, an insane outclan priestess, and humans. Stupid. Really stupid. But smart to be quiet if they were not on my side in this little battle to come.
Together, Beast and I waited.
Around the edges of the door I saw flashes of light and heard hollow booms. The door thundered, vibrations that shuddered my eardrums. Seen through the crack in the elevator opening, there was an unfinished room on the other side of the elevator shaft, some twenty-by-twenty feet in size. With the elevator secured at the top story of vamp HQ, there was room for close-quarters fighting beyond the doors. Very close-quarters fighting. On the other side of the closed elevator doors I heard a bellow of anger and the clash of swords.
CHAPTER 24
I Probably Shouldn’t Trust Me Either
The elevator doors blew inward, just missing me as I stepped back into the dark. It took a few long seconds to interpret what I was seeing/hearing/smelling. Leo stood in the shaft, wreathed in shadows, stinking of combat and explosive residue and his own blood. His swords were circling in La Destreza. To his right Katie fought, her swords whirling, her clothing catching the light, pulling it all to her, her grace and brilliance seeming to make the shadows darker. The two stepped toward the dungeon, toward me, feet lifting lightly, as if in a dance. But they had been injured with both swords and gunfire, numerous times, and crimson stained their clothes.
Peregrinus followed, lunging, lunging, lunging, his swords flashing. Humans took cover behind him, their guns firing at the dancing vamps. From the room where Bruiser and the others waited, shots were returned, steady, targeted shots, not random cover fire. Two of Peregrinus’ humans fell. The street gang raced behind the walls, out of sight. Their guns fell silent.
The gunfire assured me that whatever Bruiser and his boys had planned, it wasn’t to let Peregrinus win, which meant that Bethany was still on Leo’s side. That was good to know.
Katie moved out from Leo’s side as the fighting spread past my hiding place, into the room. That put her in line with Peregrinus. In my line of fire.
Peregrinus was dressed in plate metal from head to foot, looking like Iron Man, if Iron Man had worn blue armor splashed with bloody trim like macabre lace. He also wore the quartz crystal necklace, with the smoky inclusion of a dragon.
And Katie was still in my way. If I missed.
Peregrinus lunged again and again, moving farther into the room. Faster than even Beast could follow. At his back another form appeared, landing in a crouch as if dropped from the floor above.
Holy crap. The Devil.
She was still alive.
Peregrinus had fed her quickly enough to save her. Impossible. Unless he himself had already fed from the Son of Darkness. Yeah. Sure. He had done that the first thing when he got here. Drink. Get stronger. Drink down his humans, Naturaleza-style, the ones he’d left in a drained pile. Then start whatever ceremony he had been planning on. Which, if priestesses weren’t necessary for the change, could mean that the Devil was an Onorio . . . Holy crap.
The Devil raced through the fighters, avoiding everything, every sword, every gun, her own swords spinning with the grace of angels’ wings, steel wings of death. Her fighting method was different from other vamps’. Not just lunge-lunge-lunge, but rather step-step-lunge, step-lunge, step-step-lunge, like a dance. Add in a lunging pirouette with a lunging sword sweep, like a bird’s wing with death on the flight feathers, and it was beautiful and deadly and mesmerizing. Around her, three human fighters fell, their cries and blood and the stench of bowels released in death adding to the chaos. And with the rhythm of the Devil’s steps, her dance of death, I had a clear shot.
Now, I whispered to Beast. Together we stepped into the Gray Between. Time stuttered and shuddered and slowed. Stopped. Or nearly so. Though the Devil’s swords still moved, ever so slowly.
I slid between her blades, easing between the cutting edges. The swords slid an inch. Two more. Three. Careful. Careful, I thought. If Beast lost control, I would be in several pieces before my eyes could blink. I wasn’t sure I could heal if I was in pieces. I had never died that way before. A shaft of light thrust through the path of the Devil’s blades, illuminating Bruiser, leaping high, toward her. His mouth was open in a scream, his face full of wrath and lethal purpose. His blades were out to the sides, like a raptor in flight. But he wasn’t going to survive the leap. Faster than he was falling through the air, the Devil’s blades turned toward him. Only an inch at a time, but I could see the trajectory of the swords and the bloody death to come. My heart clenched, a painful contraction. No . . .
I stepped close and placed the working end of the Judge against the side of the Devil’s neck, into the freshly healed scars left by vamp fangs. Making sure her swords were still out of cutting range, and Bruiser out of range of any through-and-through .410 pellets, I squeezed the trigger. It took a lot more muscle than I expected. And it took a lot longer. I squeezed and squeezed, muscles trembling, the trigger moving slowly. Finally, the gun clicked. Shook.
The explosion was a visual thing as much as a tactile experience, the barrel shoving back in my hands, leaving a small space between the barrel and the Devil’s neck. A puff of hot gray smoke appeared, burning her skin, a low roar that grew in volume. Pellets emerged in a tight, narrow pattern.
My hands fought the kick, which was slow and heavy, trying to shove my arms up. The pellets and something plastic-like began to depress the skin of her neck, pierce the flesh. Disappear inside her. Spread out, the pattern widening. Her cervical spine snapped. I held my position as the barrel emptied.
As soon as the barrel of the gun was empty, I ducked and backed away. And my belly began to cramp. It started faster this time, and harder. Deeper. I grunted with pain and doubled over. I stumbled and dropped to one knee, gripping my belly with one hand, while the other still held the Judge. I managed a partial breath and tilted my head to see my handiwork.
Nothing had happened. The smoke from the shot still filled the air. I breathed it in, smelling blood, barely tingeing the air. Human blood, smelling a lot like Onorio blood. The Devil’s blood.
I had just killed a human with malice aforethought, with malevolence and planning. An assassination. I had killed a human while I was in no danger of my own life. I had just committed murder. I blew out a breath, forced myself up into a crouch, my guts on fire. Lurching, I reversed my path through the fighting until my back touched the wall. The brick was cold and wet and slick. The Devil’s swords faltered. A faint hesitation in movement. I watched as shotgun pellets burst from her throat. Out the far side of her neck. Her head tilted. Her eyes started going wide. Her knees went weak. Time sped in juddering, shuddering motions, like stop-and-go photography.
Bruiser was landing within the path of the Devil’s swords, his arms beginning to fling outward to deflect the Devil’s strikes. He would have survived the landing. He might even have survived the Devil’s assault. I could have disabled her. I could have done any number of nonlethal things to assure Bruiser’s life. Instead I killed her.
No one would thank me. Not the cops she had killed. Not their families. Not Reach, whom she had tortured.
I am a murderer. An arm of vengeance. The words were bitter in my thoughts.
Beast huffed in grim delight. Beast is best hunter.
In for a dollar, in for a death. I forced myself upright and walked to the vamp, approaching Peregrinus from behind. He had dropped his short sword and was lifting a hand, his fingers nearly touching the crystal quartz prison on his chest. He was getting ready to use it, to force the hatchling to work for him, to twist time. He was going to ride the arcenciel. At his side, Bethany also reached, her black eyes glittering, her gold earrings and beads halted in flight, her fa
ce fully vamped out. Desire and avarice wrenched her expression into something feral and fierce. If she got the crystal, things might go from pan to fire.
I pushed my body past the pain and reached around. Slid my fingers between Peregrinus’ hand and the necklace. Took the crystal quartz that hung around his neck, gripped it in one hand, and yanked. The thong holding it in place snapped and flew free, suspended in the air. Wrapping around my wrist with a quick bite of pain as the leather ends linked with my speed, my bubble in time. The crystal was cold in my hand, like holding dry ice, a burning frost. I curled my fist tighter and turned away from the fighting.
Nausea flooded up my throat and I gagged. My abdomen coiled and spiraled and knotted. I vomited and the splash that hit the wall was pure blood. That can’t be good.
I fell and felt a sword pass slowly over me, the roar of battle like a far-off jet engine, battering my eardrums. I cradled the crystal against my body as I heaved, and heaved. More and more blood erupted from me. The world spun drunkenly. I had lost too much blood. Something inside me had ruptured and it wasn’t healing over, not while I was in the bubble of time.