by E. S. Moore
I checked down the street, saw no one that appeared to be watching, and then made my move for the building I knew held members of the Left Hand.
24
I darted across the parking lot, gun in hand. My eyes scanned the lot and the front of the building, fully expecting a shot to ring out. This was the Left Hand. They wouldn’t leave their hiding place undefended in the middle of a big city overrun with werewolves and vampires. They had to have some sort of protection.
But no shots were fired. I reached the front of the building without incident. I might have been seen and the people inside could be ready for me, but at least I’d gotten this far without getting killed.
I pressed myself against the wall between a boarded up window and the door. I could just make out the sound of voices inside.
“You know you aren’t supposed to come here until daylight!”
“But I—” The sound of a slap cut her off.
I tensed, listening. It sounded as if the other members of the Left Hand weren’t so happy about the woman coming back to them. I hoped I could somehow use that to my advantage.
“What if someone followed you?”
“They didn’t.”
“How can you be sure?”
There was a long moment of silence. I could hear other faint sounds—the scrape of a chair on hard flooring, a feminine cough. I couldn’t tell how many people were inside. So far, only the girl I’d followed and the man who was yelling at her could be heard.
“We’re going to have to move.” This was a new voice. The guy sounded big, but that could be misleading. I’d heard small people with extremely deep voices before.
“We can’t go. My sister . . .”
“Will be fine. She’s doing what needs to be done.”
I slid closer to the door where I could hear better. I waited for them to go on, but the sound of shuffling began, as if a lot of people had started moving around. There was still talking, but I couldn’t make out another word.
My mind raced. Going in might very well end in my death, but it sounded like I’d been right when I’d thought they’d get up and leave when she returned. If I went back to tell Jonathan now, we’d lose them for sure.
I couldn’t let that happen.
With deliberate slowness, I reached down and tested the door. A faint, unpleasant, sensation coursed through my hand where I touched the doorknob. When I pulled my hand back, there was something on it. With a sniff, I quickly determined it was a thicker version of the stuff they injected in their victims. If a normal werewolf or vampire had touched the door, the silver in the mixture would have caused them immense pain.
It’s a good thing I wasn’t normal.
This time when I tried the door, I didn’t pull away. The door rattled slightly in its frame, but otherwise was locked.
“What was that?”
All sounds inside ceased.
It looked like I was going to have to do this the hard way.
I took three quick steps away from the door. Out of the corner of my eye, I saw a small section of plywood at one of the windows move aside, exposing a single eye.
Knowing it was going to hurt, I charged the door.
Glass shattered as I slammed into it with all the vampire strength I could muster. The wood on the other side didn’t stand a chance. It tore from the frame as I went through the doors and crashed to the ground amid a shower of glass and splinters. The harsh scent of silver dust just about choked me as I hit. I could feel it stinging the cuts all over my face and hands from the shattered glass.
I rolled to my feet almost immediately. There were at least a dozen shocked faces staring at me. A man who had to be in his sixties stood at the window, hand still on the piece of wood that had created his peephole.
My gun came up, but I wasn’t sure where to aim. Everyone was standing completely still, looking at me as if waiting for me to act first. I don’t think they expected anyone to make such an extreme entrance, especially someone not affected by the silver they’d coated everything in.
“It’s her.” The woman drew my eye. She was trembling beside the counter. “She’s the one who captured me.”
And that was all it took.
The entire room burst into motion. Cases of various types sat around the room. I knew each and every one contained syringes, serrated knives, and that damnable mixture the Left Hand used to paralyze their victims.
“Stop!” I shouted at a man to my right. He already had his syringe in hand and was running toward me. I gave him two more steps and when he didn’t stop, I shot him between the eyes.
Coldness swept over me as his blood splattered the floor. My hunger flared. I was suddenly aware of how pure their blood was, how plentiful. I had yet to feed. There were enough people here to sate me a dozen times over.
I turned and shot the older man, just as he reached out to stab me with his syringe. My ears were ringing from the sound of gunshots. I felt a twinge of guilt for killing someone of his age, but it was quickly swallowed by my rage, my beast.
Fangs extended, I grinned. I was losing control. The monster was coming out to play and I was practically helpless against it. It was commanding me to kill, to feed on every last one of them. The urge to throw down my weapons and charge bodily into them was so strong, I actually took a step forward before I regained some of my composure.
Besides, I didn’t need to charge. They were coming to me.
I spun to the side just as the Left Hand woman I’d followed tried to flank me with a serrated knife in hand. She had time to widen her eyes and open her mouth to scream before I was on her. My instincts had taken over. I knocked the knife from her hand and wrenched her head to the side. I bared my fangs.
And then I struck.
Hot warmth sprayed into my mouth and down into my gullet. I sank my fangs deep into her neck; so deep, there was no chance she’d survive this. I sucked hard, filling my essence with her life. She shuddered against me and her legs gave out. I held her in place so she wouldn’t fall.
Ecstasy made me dizzy. I pulled her close to me and drank. The world around me vanished. All I knew was the blood.
A loud bang caused me to jerk back. The woman, who should have still been alive, fell from my hands, dead. She had a gaping hole in her head, mere inches from where my own head had been.
I turned, snarling. Blood dripped down my chin, covering the front of my black leather. I still had my gun in my hand, but I wasn’t thinking clearly. I needed more blood.
A middle-aged man stood next to the counter. Fury lined his features as he did his best to aim at me. His hand was shaking so badly, I wasn’t sure he’d manage to hit much of anything if he fired. I think hitting the girl had been an accident.
“Monster,” he said. The remaining Left Hand members stood nearby, syringes and knives at the ready. He was the only one with a gun. “Gabriel is right. You are nothing but monsters.”
Our eyes locked. I knew that if I moved, he would fire. There was no way I’d get my gun up in time.
“You’re no better,” I said, slowly licking the blood from my lips. I was starting to regain my control. My beast wasn’t quite sated, but it was calming. “You kill, heedless of who you hurt.”
“We hurt those who defy Him in his greatness. We kill those who cannot abide the light of His creation.” His arm tensed and I knew he was going to shoot.
I moved quickly, darting to the side, just as he pulled the trigger. The bullet hit the plywood behind me, went through that, and shattered the glass on the other side. Someone screamed at the deafening sound.
I dropped low to the ground, rolled past a table and came up next to a woman standing off to the side. I grabbed hold of her, thinking it might buy me some time, but the man shot at me anyway. The bullet took the woman in the belly. I let her go as she fell, screaming.
I darted for the counter, thinking I might be able to use it as cover. This time, his shot was true. The bullet hit me in the shoulder as I leapt for the counte
r. I spun and fell hard on my back as pain seared through me where the bullet had gone in. It was like fire blooming from the impact, and I knew it wasn’t a normal bullet.
I didn’t get up right away. Part of it was the pain and part of it was the knowledge that if I rose now he’d probably put a bullet in my head. I couldn’t survive that.
“Silver bullets,” the man said, coming around the counter. “Who would’ve thought that all those silly movies had gotten it right?” He set his gun on the counter and held out a hand. Someone slapped a syringe into it. “It’s so easy, you see. Your kind have weaknesses. We exploit them. Thanks to His guidance, we know exactly what needs to be done.”
He took a step closer. I held completely still, acting the part of a paralyzed victim. I could feel the silver working through my veins, but it wasn’t doing anything more than burning ever so slightly.
“I don’t know how you managed to avoid getting infected when you burst in here, and I don’t care. You showed us our defenses might not be as secure as we thought.” He knelt beside me. “I will pray for your soul.” The syringe moved toward my neck.
I brought my gun up and pressed it against his chest. He had a moment to look surprised before I pulled the trigger.
Blood splattered my face as he jerked backward. He fell off me, landing hard on his side. His eyes were already starting to glaze.
Pain ripped through my shoulder as I rolled to my feet. His shot hadn’t hit anything important but it hurt like hell. I was going to be feeling this one for quite a while.
The remaining Left Hand members were staring at me in shock. One of them made for the counter where the gun sat. I grabbed the gun despite the flare of pain it caused in my injured arm. The man stopped and raised his hands, taking a single step back, though his eyes told me he was ready to charge again the moment I let my guard down.
“Funny thing, silver,” I said, turning the gun over in my hands. It was a little bigger than my gun, a little heavier. “It doesn’t work on all of us anymore.”
A guy who looked no more than sixteen screamed and charged, knife raised above his head. I actually felt bad for shooting him. The boom of the gun was so loud, I didn’t even hear the knife clatter to the ground.
“Any more?” I growled. Pain and bloodlust had me seeing red, but at least I was in control. If I gave in, the remaining four members would be dead in seconds. I could revel in their blood, feed until sated.
But I needed them. I didn’t know if I’d found their leader or if there were more of them roaming around. I needed to know.
“How many more like you are there?” I asked, eyeing the group.
A woman darted to the side, grabbed a purse, but before she could so much as open it, I shot her in the head. She dropped without a sound.
“Gabriel!” I shouted, hoping to draw him out. I hated killing Purebloods, even ones who were out to kill me. I was tired of it. I just wanted answers.
“He’s our leader.”
I turned to the speaker. She was maybe twenty, though she looked haggard, as if this life wasn’t quite right for her. She, of everyone there, looked the most terrified.
“Is he here?”
She shook her head. “He will know what has happened here and won’t return. He knows everything.”
“Where can I find him?”
“Aubrey . . .” The man who spoke reached out to grab her. I shot him.
Aubrey screamed as blood splattered her face. She trembled, eyes closed. Tears streamed down her cheeks, mingling with the blood.
Guilt seeped into me, but I pushed it away. I couldn’t take it easy on anyone here. Given the chance, they’d all kill me. Aubrey might be the only one who would regret doing it, but I wasn’t under any illusions that she would spare me.
“Where can I find him?” I repeated.
“He doesn’t stay here with us,” she said, voice wavering. She was seconds from a breakdown. “He keeps his own place and checks on us when he has a target for us. We rarely see him otherwise. He has important things to do.”
“Where is he staying?” I was growing impatient. I didn’t like the way the last two men were looking at her.
Aubrey squeezed her eyes closed and took a deep breath. “I can’t betray him,” she said. “He works through His grace, guides us on the right path.”
“Do you think all of this death is truly the right path?” I asked, knowing how it had to sound coming out of someone who had just sucked the life out of someone.
She shook her head, refusing to look at me. “I can’t.”
“Aubrey,” I said as gently as I could. “Tell me. I won’t hurt you. I’ll let you turn around and walk right out of here. You can make a life for yourself, a real life.”
Her eyes opened and I saw hope there. “He’s sta—”
A pair of screams caused her to stop. Both men charged her at the same time. I shot one before he made it more than a step. His head snapped back and he fell hard on his back, dead before he hit the ground. I swung my aim toward the other, but wasn’t fast enough.
Aubrey cried out as he grabbed her from behind. He raised his hand and swept it across her throat. Blood bloomed as the knife he held bit into flesh. He wrenched her head sideways, back into the knife, and slammed the blade home. It nearly severed her head from her body.
She gurgled something inarticulate and then collapsed, blood pumping onto the ground.
The man looked at me and grinned. Aubrey’s blood covered his face. “He will avenge us,” he said.
“Not if I find him first.” My hand trembled where I held the gun. I wanted to shoot him in the worst way, but I needed him. He might not think he’d talk, but once I was through with him, he wouldn’t have a choice.
“No,” he said, grinning. Blood dripped into his mouth, staining his teeth red. “He’ll find you.”
And then, before I could stop him, the last member of the Left Hand plunged the knife directly into his own eye.
25
Bodies lay scattered around the room like debris. Blood covered just about every inch of the floor, causing my hunger to stir. The flickering candlelight gave the illusion of movement to the corpses lying in various poses. And that’s all it was—an illusion. Everyone was dead.
Bile ripped its way up my throat and I spun to the corner. I fell to my knees and my latest meal spewed against the wall, adding to the liquid mess. I leaned my forehead on a bare patch of wall and breathed in and out slowly, trying to regain some semblance of composure.
Killing had never hit me this hard before—it was mostly that I’d blown my chance of taking out the Left Hand leader and not the actual deaths that had me so upset. I should have killed the two men while the girl was willing to talk. She’d still be alive and I’d have the information that I needed.
Thoughts of Aubrey made my stomach churn. She might have been a member of the Left Hand, but in the short time I’d talked to her, I’d felt something from her, a detachment that separated her from the others. She could have been saved, I was sure. If only I’d been smarter, faster.
I rose to my feet and wiped my arm across my mouth. I was covered in blood and smelled like a slaughterhouse. I wanted a shower in the worst way, but I couldn’t leave just yet. There might be something around the hideout that could point me in the direction of the Left Hand leader, Gabriel.
It took me a moment to fully push away my anger and frustration so I could go about checking the bodies. I looked through pockets and bags, places where personal items should have been but were lacking. Instead, there were more syringes and knives. The closest I came to finding anything was a pack of cigarettes stuffed in one young man’s back pocket. Otherwise, nothing.
I scanned the room. There were five candles placed around the room, still lit. Two had been on the counter, but had been knocked over during the fight. The wax had already hardened. In the dim light, it looked like blood.
I turned away and made for the back room. It had once been a kitchen, but was now
an empty room filled with cots and blankets. There were nearly two dozen of them, telling me I hadn’t killed them all. I wasn’t sure how many of these cots had lain empty for more than a few days. I knew for a fact a few Left Hand members had died before tonight’s slaughter.
It was dismal work, but I began sifting through the sheets and dirty clothes lying beneath many of the beds in bags. There was little of value anywhere in the room. It appeared the Left Hand took things of value from their members, leaving them with clothing, a few pieces of jewelry, and that was about it. I didn’t find a single piece of ID, new or old.
I was just about to give up when I heard a crinkle of paper as I set a pillow down. I opened the side of the pillowcase, found a tattered piece of paper, removed it from its hiding place and opened it. I could tell by how thin the paper felt that it had been well read. The writing in some places was smudged, as if someone had run their finger over the words a few dozen times.
Everything is set. Just waiting for the right moment. I love you.
A sudden fear stabbed through me. Could the short note be from someone in the Den? The writing was definitely feminine. Could it be from Keira?
I had no proof that the note had anything to do with Jonathan or the Luna Cult, but a part of me was certain of it. Keira had been the one to suggest letting the Left Hand woman go. Had she also planned the fake attack? The fight had looked real enough. The werewolves who’d joined the Cult with her had been the ones who’d attacked.
I bolted, dropping the letter without thinking. Jonathan could be lying dead in front of the garage even now. The Cult could have been destroyed while I’d been following the woman. I might return to nothing but blood.
My head pounded as I ran. Maybe the Cult had won the fight. Jonathan had some serious fight in him. Maybe he’d only sustained a few injuries and taken care of the problem. Everything had to be okay.
I leapt over an overturned bench and bolted across the empty campus. I could feel eyes on me and prayed that whoever was out there, they were on my side. If the escape had indeed been a setup, it could be Keira, waiting for my return so she could finish me off.