by Adams, Cat
“Celia, do you have a moment?” John asked. “I’d like to speak to you alone.”
I nodded and said, “Guys, hang out here for a minute. I won’t be long.”
“Sure, boss,” Bubba said while Talia agreed with a nod of her own.
John and I walked a few steps away.
“What’s up?” I asked.
“I’m working security for today’s little escapade. I want your opinion on what I’ve got planned and any suggestions you have that could help—anything at all.”
I blinked at him a little stupidly. He was asking my opinion. After the way he’d behaved in Mexico, not to mention ten seconds ago, I wouldn’t have expected that in a million years.
He sighed, his expression growing more than a little exasperated. “I said I was sorry. I was wrong to undermine you with the clients like that. It was stupid of me. I do respect your opinion.”
I forced myself to smile a little ruefully back at him. “Sorry. I guess I’m still a bit touchy about it.” Yes, he’d just questioned my abilities not two minutes ago, but calling him on it would just lead to problems and more tension, neither of which was needed at the outset of a big operation. Better to let it go. “Okay. Fine. Now that we have that out of the way…”
He quickly outlined his plans. He’d organized the entire thing like a military campaign using all of the assets and personnel at his disposal as head of Miller & Creede. I was absolutely amazed that he’d been able to pull it off on short notice but wondered how he’d gotten permission to mount an operation like this so close to the Needle.
When I told him so, he said, “I didn’t get permission. Whoever we’re up against has to be in a position of power or someone would’ve tumbled to the situation before now. If I went through channels, they’d know exactly what we’re planning.”
Oh, crap. He was taking one hell of a risk, then. Seriously, he could get jail time, major jail time, at the Needle. We all could.
“Celia, there’s a good chance I won’t survive to see tomorrow. I’ll deal with the fallout if and when I have to.”
I didn’t know what to say to that. He expected to die. He was even being matter-of-fact about it. I couldn’t be. I love Bruno, but that doesn’t mean I don’t care about John. So I swallowed hard and tried not to think too much about the risks he was taking, focusing instead on the plans he’d laid out. “I can’t see any flaws, John.” I really couldn’t. “It might be a little excessive, but hey, better safe than sorry.”
His answer made me wonder if he was reading my mind or if he just knew me too well. “When I heard you were going to be involved, I took what I had originally thought were adequate defenses, tripled them, and prayed for divine intervention.” He grinned, but I could see that he was only partially joking.
“Ha, ha, ha.” I hated that I was dangerous to my friends and allies, that my death curse tended to increase the odds that someone I knew would be hurt or killed.
“Now, what exactly did you have in mind for your dynamic duo back there?” John asked. “I need to know how to fit them into my plans.”
“I want them as close to the center of the action as we can get them. Their only job is going to be to protect the four of you and keep me advised of what’s happening.”
He opened his mouth, as if to protest, question my choice, but I cut him off.
“They’re good people, John. The best. You want them watching your back.”
He sighed. “Fine. Look, we both need to get going.” He smiled for real then, and for a second I thought he was going to kiss me good-bye. But the moment passed. Instead, he said, “Be careful.”
“You, too.” My throat was tight. I turned away so that he wouldn’t see that my eyes had filled with tears. I squared my shoulders and said to Bubba and Talia, “Go with the nice man. Make sure he and the other three involved in the working stay safe. I’m off to guard the client.”
“Good luck!” Bubba called.
“You, too.” We’d all need it.
* * *
My ride was waiting on the opposite end of the tarmac, the cargo door propped open. Same chopper, same pilot. Even similar boxes. Evidently the equipment had all been replaced. Good. But oh, Lord, I was not going to enjoy seeing that bill. Here’s hoping Abby paid up promptly.
Chris stood just inside the open doors. Dawna had looked grim, but Chris was expressionless, a blank slate, wearing desert camo, a sidearm, and an anti-siren charm prominently placed outside his shirt. His manner was one of utter professionalism. Frankly, I was surprised he hadn’t passed the job to someone else, all things considered. Unless the Company didn’t have a lot of medics, which would make it difficult to shift assignments like this one on short notice.
“What are the coordinates for our destination?” Chris asked.
I pulled a slip of paper from my jacket pocket and passed it to him. He took it to Rob, and I took my seat, strapping myself in for the ride without waiting to be told.
Chris came back, closing the cargo door as the chopper’s engines started up. Then he disappeared again into the flight cabin without saying a word.
I was fine with that.
I had to adjust the fit of the little bits of electronic equipment I’d be wearing to keep in touch with Bubba and Talia. Gilda had been the one wearing them last, and she’s a much smaller woman than I am. Still, it took only a couple of seconds to get everything comfortable, and I was able to listen to Creede’s briefing as Rob flew the chopper out to Kevin’s cabin.
“Listen up, people. To work this magic, we need to be where the node comes closest to the surface. So do our enemies. There are limited options and they’re not far apart. It’s very likely we’ll be working very close to the enemy. We’ll keep up a veil as long as we can, but once the node is tapped, the interference is going to take everything down. When that happens, you can expect things to get hairy. Under the cover of the veil, we’ll be building concentric walls of sandbags around the circle where the magic will be worked. Bubba and Talia here, are our last line of defense. Your goal is to make sure they have nothing to do. Once I’m inside the circle, Chuck is in charge.”
“Celia,” Chris said as if he’d already repeated my name a couple of times. Maybe he had. I’d been concentrating hard on Creede. “We’re here. We’ve landed.”
“Sorry. I was listening to John Creede. I left some people with him.”
Chris shook his head, a half smile on his face. For just a second a hint of our old friendship surfaced, but then his expression hardened, his eyes going dark. “You’d better go ahead to the house. I know Kevin’s expecting us, but I’d rather not startle him.”
Smart man. Startling a werewolf on the day of the full moon is not a healthy pastime. So I unfastened my safety harness and climbed out of the chopper.
Kevin’s place was on the edge of the desert, near Death Valley. I’d seen pictures when he’d bought the place just after the Needle had been built. The previous owners hadn’t been thrilled with the notion of having the most dangerous criminals in the world living that close to them—even with miles and miles of inhospitable desert between the cabin and the prison—so Kevin had gotten it for a song.
I remembered that when the house had first been built, it had been featured in Mother Earth News as a perfect example of a building designed using recycled tires. The seller had given a copy of the article to Kevin, who had proudly shown us all the photos. The cabin had a stucco surface, with a wide veranda shielding the windows from the sun on the south side. The north side had been built into an earthen berm. There were solar panels on the roof and a windmill elsewhere on the property. It was austere but beautiful, blending seamlessly into the sere beauty of the desert, like a jewel in a brooch. I suspected the place was completely off the grid.
Emma had told me Kevin had made some renovations in the last few years. I’m not sure what I had expected. New bathroom? New appliances? Not this.
The simple fence that had previously surrounded the propert
y had been replaced by a wall that was at least seven feet tall, two to three feet thick, and covered in tan stucco. Access was through a steel gate as tall as the wall and just wide enough to let a single vehicle through. The gate’s controls looked similar to the ones at my place. A sign was attached to the gate, black with yellow block letters: TRESPASSERS WILL BE SHOT. SURVIVORS WILL BE SHOT AGAIN.
I stood outside the gate and bellowed, “Yo, Kevin! It’s me!” Not the most elegant of greetings, but effective. I saw the edge of one of the curtains flick aside. A moment later, Emma came out of the cabin and approached the gate. She had my Derringer in a holster on her belt and carried one of those big squirt guns with the extra tanks. I had no doubt that the reservoirs were filled with holy water. I also knew that Chris, Rob, and I were going to get a little wet if we wanted to get past Emma. It was the only way she and Kevin could be sure that the three of us were who we claimed to be.
“Em, what are you doing here?”
She sprayed me. When it was clear that I was, indeed, me, she answered. “Kevin was worried that if something went wrong and he needed to hunt before you guys got here, Michelle would be unprotected. So I left Paulie with Dad and came out here as backup.”
I hadn’t realized her dad was back. I was glad. I knew she and Kevin had both missed him badly, and this might just give me a chance to extend an olive branch, see if we could work out our differences.
Chris and the pilot came over, both carrying boxes of equipment and supplies. Emma sprayed them, and only when they had both passed inspection did she put her palm on the control pad and open the gate.
“Where do you want these?” Rob asked.
“Put them in the living room. We’ve cleared everything out to make room.”
“Right.”
True to her word, the large room was empty save for a single recliner. The curtains had been drawn on all of the windows so that it was dim. Michelle sat on the wide ledge of a stone fireplace. After greeting me, she sat quietly, watching Chris set up the equipment.
I couldn’t blame her for being afraid. A few days ago she’d been living a normal life. Now her mother had been murdered and she was being hunted by a mage who wanted her dead. And it looked like her only option was to put her life in the hands of people she’d only just met and attempt what sure sounded like a harebrained scheme with no guarantee of success.
In the last few days she’d been shot, had surgery, had run for her life twice, and been part of a gun battle. All that would have been hard on me, and I was used to violence. How difficult must it have been for her? I walked over to her. “Hey, Michelle, how you holding up?”
“Truthfully? Not so hot. Kevin’s acting strange. He keeps pacing and looking out the windows. He hardly talks to anyone. Emma’s worried, but she won’t say why, and it doesn’t feel like she’s worried about me.” She took a breath. “And I’m scared. What if the transfusion doesn’t work? I mean, you’re just guessing.”
“It’s the day of the full moon. Kevin is feeling a little restless.” In fact, he’d gone outside the minute we’d come in, preferring to keep a little distance between himself and so many people. “And Michelle, you need to trust me. I am not going to let you die. I’ll do everything in my power, whatever it takes, to see to it that you make it to tomorrow. Do you believe me?”
Her answer was a barely audible whisper. “Yes.”
“I can’t promise that this will work. I think it will; I think it’s our best bet. But if it doesn’t, we’ll do something else.” Right then, I didn’t know what that something else would be, but I knew I wouldn’t give up. I did not want her to die, not just because her death would help Connor Finn, but for her own sake. She seemed like a good kid. She deserved the chance to have a full, happy life.
Chris said, “We’re ready, and we should probably get started right away. The rapid infusion device was destroyed in the fire yesterday and I couldn’t get a replacement. So it’ll take longer than planned to get everything done well before sunset.”
I turned to Michelle, who had gone pale. She began to shake her head no, over and over.
“Michelle, you need to do this.”
She didn’t answer, just kept shaking her head. Chris, Emma, and Rob were all looking at me like: fix this. But I didn’t know what else to say, how to convince her to go through with it. I wondered if Chris had brought sedatives; I wondered how he’d feel about transfusing an unconscious person against her will.
Just then the temperature in the room started to drop. A cold breeze ruffled my hair and my breath misted the air.
“Mama?” Michelle’s voice held awe and wonder. “It’s you, isn’t it?”
The sound of scratching on the frame of the picture above the fireplace mantel drew our attention. There, written in frost, was a single word. Yes.
“I miss you so much. I’m so scared.” Michelle was crying, her words almost childlike in their desperation and simplicity.
You have to do this. You MUST. The words appeared slowly, but they were unmistakable.
Michelle stood. Swallowing hard, she turned to me. “Will you hold my hand?”
It was a bad idea. I’m part vampire, and there was about to be a lot of blood in the immediate area. I should be as far away from the whole process as possible. But she was so scared and desperate that I found myself nodding mute assent. I heard Chris tell Rob to turn up the blood warmer.
Michelle was still strapped to the machine when the attack came, a wave of heat that hit like a wrecking ball, driving me to my knees. Michelle shrieked as her hair burst into flame and burns began crawling up her arms. Reacting almost inhumanly fast, Chris yanked out the needle and tubing that were draining her blood, flinging the apparatus away from him as it burst into blue-white flames, the plastic melting to stinking black liquid before our eyes. He clamped down, holding pressure to the wound even as Michelle’s skin began to blister and blacken beneath his hands.
“Do something!” he screamed at me. “You have to do something or she’s going to die!”
He was right.
We needed to change her biology to make her unrecognizable to the curse, and the blood transfusion wasn’t enough. My thoughts spun: what changed people? Demon possession … vampire attacks … shape-shifter bites …
“Kevin!” I shouted, spinning to discover that he was already in the room, probably because of all the screaming. “You have to bite her. It’s her only chance.”
“Are you insane?” He growled at me; his teeth were already elongating. He was so close to the change, holding it at bay by sheer force of will.
“You have to. She’s going to die if you don’t.”
He looked past me at Michelle. I could see what he saw—blackened, crisping skin, swathes of destruction that grew as the stench of cooking flesh filled the room.
“Everyone get out of here,” Kevin ordered, “now!”
Rob didn’t need to be told twice. He vanished. But Emma had to grab Chris by the arm and drag him away.
“Go,” Kevin said firmly, in a voice that was barely human.
I so wanted to run. But first I had to ask, “Will you be able to control her?”
He threw back his head and howled, his eyes bleeding to red as golden fur poured out of every pore. I heard his bones breaking over the sound of Michelle’s screams. As he dropped to all fours, I drew my knives and began backing out of the room. I was at the door when he bit her and at the gate when her howls joined his.
I made it through barely in time, slamming the heavy bars in a pair of furry faces—one golden, one black as night—as they snarled and snapped, long claws slashing at me through the gaps in the bars.
I backed away, saddened and horrified. Michelle was alive, but at what cost? Would she return to human form, to humanity, when the full moon passed? What had I done?
Behind me, I heard the helicopter engine starting. Combined with the howls of the werewolves, it was almost loud enough to drown out the sound of Bubba’s desperate voi
ce in my ear. “Boss, the veil is down. We can see them. It’s bad. Tell Mona I love her.”
31
The larger wolf, a golden male the size of a small horse, drew back from the gate, while the female continued to try to reach me through the bars. The male’s eyes met mine and, I swear to God, he smiled, showing lots of vicious teeth. He gave a sharp bark; she immediately turned her shaggy black head to him and there was a moment of communion. Then she trotted after him, and a moment later the two of them bolted toward the north end of the property, where the cabin was built into the berm.
Oh, shit.
I ran. “Get this thing off the ground!” I shrieked as I dived through the chopper’s open door.
The panic in my voice had the desired effect. Rob pulled on the controls and the chopper slowly started to rise from the ground—too slowly to suit me. In my ear, Talia was shouting that they were facing a force of approximately two hundred, probably half of them spawn. Through the still open door I watched the wolves race up the north wall of the house and leap, first to the top of the wall, then in an amazing, flowing motion, down to the ground. They were beautiful—and utterly terrifying.
Chris was swearing and straining against the door, which had jammed open. I scrambled to my feet and drew my knives. Not my guns—I didn’t want to kill either Kevin or Michelle unless I absolutely had to. But I wasn’t going to let us be turned into dog chow either.
The helicopter was probably thirty feet in the air when the wolves reached us. Michelle circled under us, howling her rage and frustration. Kevin didn’t even slow. Instead, he poured on the speed and hurled himself upward in a mighty leap that actually brought his front paws onto the skid. He was struggling to pull the bulk of his body up when I stepped to the opening. I met his gaze. This time I was the one who smiled. Showing my knives and flashing fang, I formed thoughts and projected them individually and distinctly, directly into his mind: I. Don’t. Think. So.
He let go, landing with a thud and a yelp of pain. As we flew off, I saw him rise and shake himself before the wolves ran off to together to find other, easier prey.