Tainted Blood (Hell's Belle Book 2)

by Greco, Karen

  But I did not see any trace of the quiet, chess-loving, artistic kid that I knew. Instead, I stared into the cold eyes of a demon. I knew what I had to do, and, swinging from the ladder like a pendulum, it was time to act. I made my decision. I had to stick to it. Besides, most humans didn't live after a demon possession. This was a mercy killing.

  I swung my arm back and slammed the stake into one of Zack's red-rimmed eyes. An unholy shriek poured out of his mouth and he staggered backwards, the stake stuck in his eye socket. But he didn't release my leg. The fire escape groaned as he pulled on me once more. A final snap rang out and the ladder, along with me on it, slammed to the ground.

  Stunned by the full 400 pounds of the thing landing on me, I remained motionless under the ladder for several moments. From my perspective on the ground, I saw a mass of shoes thundering towards me. Dammit, the commotion was drawing the attention of more demons. A mass was swarming in my direction. There was no way I could take them all on.

  I heaved the heavy ladder off of me, using it to cantilever myself to my feet. I took a breath and tossed it onto the first wave of demons, buying myself a bit of time as they rushed me. Then I surveyed the platform where Max stood. It was a 20 or so foot vertical jump. I could make it. Barely. But I could.

  "Get ready!" I yelled. I crouched down and then exploded up like a spring. My hands just caught the bottom of the balcony where Max was standing. He grabbed me by the wrist and pulled me up to the platform.

  "You okay?" Max's voice was deeper, more primitive.

  I just gave him a nod, and looked at the chaos happening below. The demons were marauding down the street and out into the city. Glass from store windows shattered. There were echoes from metal dumpsters being overturned. Savage noises came from the demons as they tore everything in front of them to shreds. Only Zack's body remained still on the pavement below, my stake still stuck in his eye.

  Max poked at the giant bruise building around my clavicle. "Anything broken?"

  I slapped his hand away. It was sore to the touch.

  Max was out of Berserker mode, but his clothes were shredded from the explosion of muscle. His boxer shorts covered more of him than his pants at this point, and he was pretty much shirtless. Under normal circumstances I was happy to see more of his flesh. When not in Berserker mode, he was cut with muscle built naturally from his time on the surfboard. But after killing Zack, I wasn't in the mood to appreciate the aesthetics of a surfer's solid build.

  Max looked down at Zack's body. "Is that how you kill a demon?"

  "That's how you kill a human, too." I brushed past him and started up the stairs to the roof of the building. No point in dwelling on what was done.

  The rickety fire escape barely held our combined weight on our climb to the roof. Rust flakes caked on my hands, the slivers embedding themselves into my palm, but each slice of oxidized metal reminded me that I was indeed human, not yet a monster, even though I killed Zack after barely a short pause.

  I pulled myself over the lip of the roof and was greeted by Al and Eva walking the perimeter, murmuring something that sounded Latin.

  Al yelled, "Damn Eva, you keep pronouncing it wrong!"

  She got right back in his face. "Maybe you're pronouncing it wrong."

  Darcy was shivering in her light t-shirt. Matty had his arms wrapped around her to keep her warm.

  "Here," I said, pulling off my coat and tossing it at her. "There's blood crusted on one of the sleeves."

  Matty helped her into the coat. "That went off the rails pretty fast."

  "No shit," I growled. "Want to tell me what the fuck that was about? We were blindsided in there."

  An explosion took my attention away from Matty. I turned my back to him, toward the direction of the noise. We weren't high enough to see over the roof of the building across the street, but judging by the red-orange glow in the sky, an entire city block was on fire. Sirens sounded in the distance.

  "Oh, shit!" I cried out. "They're going to burn down the damn city."

  Matty looked shell-shocked. "It never got so extreme. I mean, the crowd always went crazy, but they never attacked anyone before."

  "We were told it was the rioting after the show to look out for, not a freaking demon possession at the top of the show." With my fists clenched by my side, it was all I could do to keep from punching him.

  "What was that song?" Max turned to Matty, completely levelheaded. "I didn't recognize it."

  Matty shook his head. "You wouldn't. It's a new song for our upcoming album. We play it live now, to get the fans excited for the album drop."

  "Is it usually at the top of your set list?" Max asked.

  "No, it usually closes the show," Matty said. "We moved it up this time. Elias thought it would be better if they walked out humming our hit songs, songs they already knew."

  "Makes sense."

  "I know, right? And Elias is all about playing. Usually he can't be bothered with that sort of thing. You know, set lists, marketing, that sort of thing." How the hell could Matty be so damn enthusiastic after we were just ambushed like that?

  "No? Who does?" Max pressed.

  Matty shrugged. "My father, mostly."

  "Was it Tavio's idea to play a new song?"

  "Hey guys, this is not a conversation that gets us off this roof. Or stops a demon mob." I yanked impatiently at the roof access door. It was locked from the inside and wouldn't budge. I kicked at the handle, hoping to break it off. But it only dented the door. "This is not the time to worry about album downloads and ticket sales."

  If Frankie were here, he'd be hanging Matty over the edge of the roof by his ankles, not chitchatting about a stupid set list.

  Max pulled out his cell phone. "I'll get us off the roof. While we're waiting, I'd like to know more about the song. So, it was Tavio's idea?"

  "No actually. Kittie came up with it," Matty added quickly. "But my dad thought it was a good idea."

  Max nodded, and put the phone to his ear. "Yeah, it's Agent Deveroux. Ask Bertrand to send out his chopper. We're stuck on the roof."

  I opened my mouth to protest, and then closed it. Did I really want to spend the night on the roof? Or Spider-Man it down the side of the building, dropping into the middle of a demon horde? Before I had to choose, the roof access door suddenly slammed open. Kittie stormed at us, her dreadlocks swinging violently around her face with each aggressive step.

  "Oh my god, Matty! I was so worried about you!" Her voice was sharp and angry. I glanced over at Darcy. Her head was held high, lips slightly curled in disgust. Damned if that banshee didn't look almost stoic! It made me want to give her a hug.

  "I'm fine, Kittie. I am not a child!" Matty's fangs, as they were, glistened in the moonlight.

  She rounded on me. "Is this how you take care of things? I didn't think you people were the Keystone Cops. How can anyone trust you after that show of incompetence?"

  "Are you really going to do this?" I scowled. "What could we do? Shoot up the place and kill a bunch of people possessed by demons? 'Cause the bullets won't kill the demons. Just the humans."

  "Demons?" she said with a snort. "Not likely. And even if they were, you should have done something."

  "You tell me, then, Kittie. How do I kill a demon?"

  "How would I know?"

  "Because you're a demon. You are not a siren, you are a demon."

  Max groaned. "Don't start that again, Nina."

  Clearly, his infatuation had worn off. Maybe he wasn't whammied by the potion after all.

  The whir of helicopter blades drowned out a string of obscenities directed at Max. But when I looked at him, he smiled and winked. Did someone finally believe me?

  The chopper hovered close to the roof. Alfonso climbed unsteadily into the bird while Max grabbed Eva and then passed her up to Alfonso. Matty tried to be chivalrous but he clearly needed more help than Darcy. She pulled herself into the chopper and then she helped him in. Kittie simply fumed, her arms locked onto the heli
copter's landing skids, her legs kicking in the air. Max gave her a hefty shove the rest of the way.

  I looked at the roof access door hanging off its hinges. Did I want to get into his helicopter? Or take my chances on the street?

  Tavio stretched his hand out to me. "Come on, Nina."

  I slipped my right hand into my jacket, feeling for my stakes. "Where's Frankie?"

  "Sorry, Nina. We couldn't find him."

  "Really?" I gently traced the runes on one with my fingertip. "How hard did you look?"

  "We had a five-mile radius around the location you sent us," Tavio said.

  The pilot turned towards me, his eerie eyes glowing in the pitch-black of the cockpit. This time Bertrand had sent out the vampire muscle. "We've got to go. Now."

  I glared at him and looked back to Tavio. "You didn't hold up your end."

  "Neither did you," he responded. "There's rioting on this side of the city. Rioting you were supposed to stop."

  "We weren't told they were demons. That battle requires more than stakes."

  "Get in or get left behind, half-breed," the pilot said with a slight lisp. That meant his fangs were out.

  With lightning speed, I pulled out the stake and threw it hard, striking the mouthy vampire in the chest, just to the right of his heart. The snap of the stake breaking through the bone of the sternum surprised me, and I squinted into the cockpit, hoping my vampire night vision was good enough to see the damage. Less than half the stake was protruding. It was a damn powerful throw.

  "And I meant to miss," I snarled. "Next time I'll aim for the heart."

  "Its burns!" the pilot howled as he pulled the stake out.

  Burns? I reached in and touched another stake. These weren't doused in Holy Water or my hands would itch when I handled them. Tavio shrunk back when he saw my hand slip into my jacket again.

  Max caught my wrist and took my hand out of my jacket. He gave it a squeeze. "No more stakes. Let's go find Frankie," he whispered in my ear.

  I hesitated for a moment before stepping onto the skid next to him.

  Alfonso winked at me when I climbed into the cabin. "Nice shot, kid."

  I gave him a tiny smile. Yes, it was time to find Frankie. We couldn't do this without him.

  CHAPTER SIXTEEN

  "I really don't think we can scry successfully under these circumstances," I said as I glanced over at Bertrand's muscle man, who scowled at me. "You still sore about the stake in the chest?"

  The helicopter deposited us on the roof of the Biltmore Hotel. While taking the glass elevator down to Bertrand’s second floor, we witnessed pockets of the city erupt into spontaneous flames as the marauding crowd torched buildings. The pilot, all vampire muscle, gave me the stink eye the entire 16 floor descent. It lasted all the way to Bertrand's office.

  With the city in near shambles, Bertrand paced his office, furiously texting or barking orders into his mobile phone. A few days before, it was the Beta-Vamps flipping cars and causing general mayhem. Now these demons were on an arson streak, and the Providence cops couldn't keep up. I didn't think they wanted to either. The horde was impossible to control. Bertrand was pale — almost gaunt — under his fake tan. He was out of patience.

  But he wasn't the only one. I wanted to hit the street and find Frankie, but the mass of demon-possessed bodies posed a real problem. There were too many of them for us to take at once. We needed reinforcements from the Blood Ops Nevada base, but with Dr. O still MIA, there was no one to call it in. He was the only one authorized to mobilize backup. Clandestine operation or not, we were still saddled with the bureaucracy of a government agency. That we technically didn't exist only compounded the problem.

  So for the moment, we were stuck at the Biltmore. I pressed Bertrand to take the chopper and drop me at Babe's, but he was pigheaded about me remaining at the hotel. Given my history with the place, I almost felt more comfortable taking my chances on streets overflowing with demons than in the haunted hotel, where the dead's despair just seeped into the psyche.

  I sat on the floor, legs tucked under Bertrand's expensive mahogany coffee table, a bowl of water in front of me so Casper, who was still not completely 100 percent, and I could scry. I had zero faith that it would work.

  Whatever mojo propelled the vision the first time was missing this time. The water remained completely still in the bowl. I closed my eyes, focused, and tried again. The water rippled slightly towards the northwest but no vision bubbled up. Frankie didn't want to be found.

  Casper was agitated too. Having the ghost's added anxiety amping up my own didn't help my mood much. And it certainly didn't help me scry. I jumped up and paced the room, matching Bertrand step-for-step.

  "Bertrand, please, this is just wasting time. I'm pretty sure I know where Frankie's hiding out," I lied. "I don't need to scry."

  "And how do you propose getting around the city? You are going to walk right out into that crowd?" he asked. His eyes, coal black and glistening, followed me with a cool detachment.

  "Your guy could take me to Babe's in the helicopter," I offered, hoping he would go for it this time.

  The pilot guffawed. "I'm not taking you anywhere, half-breed."

  I turned toward him, glaring. "Remember the last time you called me that?"

  "You don't have any more stakes," he retorted, laughing.

  I sneered at him, seething. My weapons cache was commandeered before I was allowed to enter Bertrand's lair.

  His laughter abruptly turned from loud and grating to a far off echo, as if he were in some sort of empty cavernous room rather than right in front of me in a posh hotel suite. The echoes reverberated painfully through my skull, as if it were cracking. My vision went black for a split second, and I felt Frankie course through my body. Then my eyesight came back as suddenly as it went out, but now images were brighter, sharper. Unexpectedly, I was ravenous.

  My fangs shot through my gums. I lunged at Bertrand's muscle and thundered, "Let's see who's laughing now."

  I reached out and plunged my hand into his chest with extraordinary force. My hand pushed through his flesh and muscle as if it were simply a thick gel. His rib cage shattered upon impact. Gripping his heart, I yanked it out of his chest cavity and brought the organ triumphantly to my mouth.

  "Oh hell, no! Not again!" Casper's angry bellow snapped Frankie's influence right out of me.

  I broke Frankie's connection just in time to watch the muscle-bound vamp, his eyes wide with fear, drop to the floor. Releasing his heart, I let it drop on top of him. Bertrand's pristine white carpet turned crimson as Muscle Vampire bled out.

  Bertrand was leaning against his desk, watching everything with a cool detachment. "You've made a bit of a mess."

  "Guess I don't need stakes," I said softly.

  "Apparently you don't." Bertrand cocked his eyebrow and turned his back on Muscle Vampire. Great boss.

  "Thanks, Casper," I murmured under my breath.

  "I got your back, girlfriend," he responded.

  "Impressive as that was, you do realize you just incapacitated your pilot?" Bertrand said easily as he tossed me a towel to clean myself up. He sounded almost impressed. "How do you plan on crossing that demon horde now?"

  "I'll take her," Max said as he stepped over Muscle Vampire's body to enter the room. "Nina, I see you've been naughty again."

  He had changed out of his ripped up clothes and into a borrowed SWAT outfit. He had an extra jacket balled up in his hand.

  My arm was covered in blood up to the elbow. I wiped at the sticky mess, relieved that Max was taking this little debacle in stride.

  "Take her in what? You can't fly," Bertrand said.

  "Her bike."

  My throat caught. "My bike! How'd you get my bike?"

  Max's smile lit up his face. "I was holding it at the station."

  "What happened to the impound yard?" I quizzed him, crossing my arms across my chest.

  "You think I'd let them keep your bike at the yard? It'd be st
ripped."

  "Thanks for telling me," I scowled. Why didn't he just hand the damn bike over when he got it out of vehicle prison?

  "You were speeding and out of line with the cop that pulled you over," he retorted. "I wanted to save your bike, but you weren't getting it back."

  I was too happy to be pissed that he was teaching me a lesson. I practically danced across the room to give him a hug. "Where are my keys?"

  "Whoa! You don't have your motorcycle license reinstated yet. You are still a menace on two wheels."

  "Only in the eyes of the law," I smiled and reached for the keys, missing them completely. I blinked a few times and tried again. Once more, I missed.

  Dammit. Temporarily having Frankie's vampire vision messed up my own.

  "Just give me the keys, Max," I said calmly.

  "Can you see?" he asked, bringing his face in really close to mine. "Because your eyes look funny. Like you just had your pupils dilated. And they still have that weird vampire glow going on."

  "I'm fine," I lied.

  He tipped his head and whispered into my ear, giving me goose bumps. Maybe it was because my bike was back. "You're going to get yourself killed."

  "If I don't ride it, how will I get out of here?"

  "I'll ride you out of here."

  I smirked at the double entendre. "Repeat that."

  "I'll ride you out of here."

  I stifled a giggle and shook my head. "Appealing as that sounds, no one rides that bike except me."

  Realization crossed Max's face, and his ears turned crimson.

  "Well, Ms. Martinez," Bertrand interjected, "you have a choice to make. You stay here with me, or let Max ride your motorcycle out of here. Choose wisely."

  Bertrand left that hanging ominously in the air. We couldn't afford to lose any more time.

  "Hand over the spell, Bertrand," I said as I held my hand out impatiently. He still had the Frankie fix that Casper and I concocted.