by Skye Knizley
“If we’re going all out, we should go all out,” he said, bracing himself with the emergency handle and dashboard.
In response, Raven grinned and guided the Shelby through traffic so slow it was almost standing still. She rounded another corner and roared side by side with a police cruiser. Detective Gibson, an older man with silver hair pulled into a ponytail, waved from the passenger window of the squad car then said something to Murtaugh, who was behind the wheel. The squad car surged ahead and swerved in front of the Shelby, causing Raven to touch the brakes and curse under her breath.
“Really? They’re going to do this on the way to an emergency?”
Raven shook her head, shifted and changed lanes into oncoming traffic. The Shelby’s V8 engine roared and the car accelerated past the squad car. Levac waved as they passed and Raven swerved back in front of them then accelerated again. She’d never lost a ‘pursuit’ and wasn’t going to start now.
She spotted the fire trucks, SWAT van and command vehicles ahead and pulled in behind them. She parked next to the SWAT van and hurried toward the Team Leader, an experienced officer she’d known since she was a child.
“Ricky! Ricky, what’s going on?”
Richard “Rick” Becker, SWAT commander, turned at Raven’s voice and smiled. He was a short man with steel-colored hair and eyes so green they looked like fresh-cut grass.
“Ray? What are you doing here? I heard you were in bed with the Feds, these days.”
“Levac and I heard the call and decided to give you a hand,” Raven said.
“Raven was bored,” Levac added.
“Well we’re glad you deigned to join us, but we have this covered, Agent Storm,” Mauser said from nearby.
“With all due respect, Lieutenant, an explosive device in an office building requires a call to the FBI. Here we are,” Raven said.
A movement, a flash of light in the window of the SWAT van caught Raven’s attention. Her eyes widened and instinct kicked in. “Get down! Everybody get down!”
She was too late. She felt the bullet pass through her shoulder, felt the heat and pain, and slammed into the side of the van, stunned. Ricky fell beside her, the slug that passed through her skin had also hit him in the throat. Blood fountained from the tear in his artery and he clamped a hand to the wound, trying to keep his life from ebbing through his fingers. Raven dropped to the ground beside him, the pain in her own shoulder already fading.
“Medic! Damn it, Ricky needs a medic!”
Levac appeared beside her, bandages in his hands. He pressed the bandages to the wound and met Raven’s eyes. They both knew the wound was fatal.
“I’m sorry, Ricky,” Raven said.
Ricky met her eyes. “Get him for me, kid. Don’t let him…”
Another shot hit the SWAT fan and blew a hole in the side of the vehicle, sending shards of steel over them. Raven drew her Automag and peered around the rear of the van. They were surrounded by tall buildings, too tall for a sniper to be on the roof, which meant he was indoors. She scanned the windows, but there was no sign of him. She could feel his eyes on them, waiting for his next shot.
“Does anyone have a shot?” Mauser asked.
There was a chorus of ‘no’s,’ that made Mauser curse. “Someone call this shit in and get us some damn air support!”
“He’s dying, Ray,” Levac said quietly.
Raven continued to search for the shooter. “I know.”
“Do you want to say goodbye?”
Raven looked at Ricky’s dead, blank eyes. “I already did.”
She stood and stepped into the open, her eyes on the building behind them.
“Storm! Storm, I know you’re crazy, but get the hell down!” Mauser yelled.
The sniper’s next shot missed Raven by millimeters. As soon as she saw the flash, Raven was running. “Tenth floor, south structure. Close the exits and get a chopper over this building, the bastard killed Ricky.”
She didn’t wait to see if anyone listened, she was already running for the door. She hit them at a dead run and slid to a stop in front of the reception desk. The receptionist, a young-looking woman with too much makeup, looked up in surprise.
“Can I help you, Miss?”
“You have an active shooter on the tenth floor. I need you to alert security and get everyone to your secure areas,” Raven said.
The receptionist was taken aback. “I need authorization—”
Raven fired a shot into the ceiling. The receptionist ducked so low she almost vanished beneath the desk.
Raven glared at her. “Is that authorization enough?”
The receptionist nodded, eyes wide, and began speaking into the radio. Raven watched her for one more heartbeat then started running. The echo of her shot had done what she’d hoped security would do more quietly and people were streaming from their offices, more concerned than frightened, but all asking questions.
Raven raised her pistol over her head. “Agent Raven Storm, FBI. We have a situation, please head to your secure areas and stay down.”
Levac appeared in the doorway, badge in hand. “Please, everyone remain calm, it isn’t safe to go outside, do as my colleague says and take cover.”
Raven nodded her thanks and stepped onto the elevator. “Keep an eye on the stairs, Rupe. This guy killed a cop, I doubt he’s done yet.”
The doors closed and Raven watched the numbers climb, one foot rocking back and forth on the heel as she waited. Near the 8th floor she realized what song was playing and put her fist through the wall speaker.
“He was right, Ipanema is everywhere.”
The doors opened on the tenth floor and Raven stepped out into the office of Nifty Kitty Corp. Three women were tied up and gagged with duct tape just inside the door, while two male corpses lay on the floor in pools of drying blood. Raven held a finger to her lips and mouthed the words, “Where is he?”
Together, with silent, pleading eyes, the women indicated the corridor to Raven’s left. She held up a hand and crept in that direction, weapon ready. A gunman dressed in black tactical gear and gas mask popped out of one of the rooms ahead of her and rolled a small green canister in her direction. Raven kicked the door beside her and jumped through just before the canister began spewing yellow smoke. Raven looked at and realized while it probably wouldn’t kill her, it would definitely kill anyone else in the office. She turned and realized she was in a small bathroom with a stall and a pair of urinals.
It was an easy decision. She grabbed the canister and, coughing and choking as the nerve agent attacked her system, shoved it into the toilet. She held the flush down and clamped her eyes shut as the water carried the gas away. It would dissipate harmlessly in the city’s sewer system in a matter of minutes.
When she felt the pressure ease, Raven sank to the ground, her body wracked with pain. She’d never even considered gassing herself and had no idea what effect it would have, she just hoped her vampire blood could fight it off.
When she could, she pulled herself to her feet and staggered back into the hallway. She could feel blood streaming from her eyes and mouth and it felt as if everything inside was on fire, but it was an improvement over the last few minutes.
She wiped the blood from her eyes and started down the corridor again. The masked gunman poked his head back into the hallway and stared at her in surprise. Raven shot him through the gas mask and fell into the wall, her hands shaking with pain and fatigue. Two more gunmen popped out of doors and bullets peppered the wall beside her. Raven fell to the floor and fired four more shots. One of the men fell, the other ducked behind cover. It was hard to hear with all the noise and pounding in her head, but it sounded like he was yelling instructions.
Raven ejected the magazine from her pistol and it tumbled from fingers that felt dead. She ignored the fallen one and rammed in a fresh magazine. The slide clic
ked back as a hail of bullets turned the wall beside her into so much Swiss cheese. When it ended, she sat up and returned fire. Her vision was improving with every second and this time her shots hit home. The remaining gunman fell backwards into the wall then slid to the ground. His weapon fell from dead fingers and sound came back. Raven could hear people screaming and the sounds of police approaching. She fell back and closed her eyes as the last of her energy faded.
Sisters of Mercy Hospital, Chicago, IL
The sound of the EKG machine beeping was so familiar that it didn’t surprise Raven when it was the first sound she heard when consciousness began to return. She was aware of people around, including the familiar presence of Levac and Aspen.
“This happens too damn often,” she said.
Her voice sounded harsh and distant, even to her own ears.
She felt Aspen’s hand on her forehead. “Yeah, it does. What were you thinking, taking a face full of sarin gas?”
Raven opened her eyes, but the lights were too bright and she closed them again. “It was better than the alternative. Did everyone get out okay?”
“No casualties but the two at the doors,” Levac said. “And you. If you didn’t have a stash in the Mustang, you’d be dead. I managed to get you a pint before the EMT’s showed up to cart you away.”
Raven opened her eyes again. “I don’t remember drinking anything.”
Levac’s face swam into view beside Aspen’s. “I don’t think you ever woke up, I put it to your lips and you drank out of reflex. When you were finished, you just sort of fell back. Sorry about your head.”
Raven tried to laugh and it caused a coughing fit. Her lungs still felt like they were on fire.
“Take it easy, love. You’re healing, by all accounts you should be dead, but it did a number on you. Your healing factor is taking longer than it usually does,” Aspen said.
“How did those assholes get ahold of sarin, anyway?” Raven asked.
“They weren’t just any assholes. Murtaugh recognized their tats, they’re all part of a quasi-militant group known for killing police in four states,” Levac said.
“Mauser said that the whole thing was a set up. There was no bomb, it was to get us to set up a perimeter with a lot of easy targets,” Aspen said.
Levac squeezed her hand. “If you hadn’t been crazy, everyone in that building would be dead and so would more cops.”
Raven pushed herself up on her elbows. “That’s something, anyway. Do you have any more claret laying around? I want to get the hell out of this bed.”
Aspen pulled a small wine bottle out of her purse and offered it to her. Raven looked at it distastefully.
“What? I couldn’t very well just feed you a pint in here, what if someone comes in? So I grabbed some of the family stash your mom gave us,” Aspen said.
Raven sighed and took the bottle. “The bottler puts flavors and shit in it, it’s weird.”
Levac raised his eyebrows. “Weirder than drinking claret in general?”
Raven unscrewed the cap and put the bottle to her lips. “Point taken.”
She steeled herself and drank down the contents. The taste was sickly-sweet and clung to her tongue. She set the bottle aside and fought against the desire to gag. She was still struggling when the door opened and a nurse entered.
“Mrs. Storm, are you alright? You shouldn’t be sitting up yet!”
Mrs.?
Raven wiped tears from her eyes and sat back. “I’m fine, have someone write up my release papers, I want to be home for dinner.”
The nurse moved closer. “Is that a wine bottle?”
“Where?” Aspen asked.
“Just there… oh, it’s soda. Still, Mrs. Storm shouldn’t have that, either.”
Raven glanced at the bottle and saw that Aspen had dropped some kind of spell on it to make it look like a glass soda bottle.
“It’s mine,” Aspen said. “She just had the last swallow. You know, just to wash the taste of sarin vomit out of her mouth.”
“I’m amazed she can taste anything this soon,” the nurse said.
She bent down and began checking Raven’s eyes with a small flashlight.
“I can taste and I can see, get that damn light out of my face,” Raven said.
The nurse pulled back and gave Raven an appraising look. “You must be in shock, no one can recover this quickly, your organs were shutting down—”
Raven sat up further. “I ate my Wheaties. Get me the release papers or I’m leaving without them.”
“I’m getting the doctor, you aren’t going anywhere without his permission.”
“You do that.”
“You could be a little nicer,” Levac said when she was gone. “She’s just trying to do her job.”
Raven glanced at him and turned to sit on the bed. “She needs to do her job without being so damn shocked someone is getting better.”
Aspen leaned a hip on the edge of the bed. “Not everyone heals like you do, babe. Are you sure you should be getting up so soon?”
“No, I thought I would wander out into the night and see how far I got before I coughed up a lung,” Raven said.
“Smartass. You have clean clothes in the duffel on the chair.”
Raven reached for the bag and Levac’s phone began to ring. He held it up so she could see and said, “It’s King.”
He slid his thumb over the screen and held it to his ear. “Agent Levac.”
He listened for a moment then held it out and pressed the speaker button. “You’re live, boss. Raven is here.”
“Raven? It’s King. I just received word about what happened. Are you alright?”
Raven dropped the hospital gown and started sorting through the clothing Aspen had provided. It looked like a pair of clean jeans, a sweater and a pair of comfortable ankle boots, as well as undergarments that were just a hair too sexy for work.
“My throat is killing me and my eyes are burning, but I’m fine. Why the personal attention?”
“First, because you’re a member of my team, even if you are even more of a pain than your father. Second, I read Mauser’s report, and he’s wrong. This wasn’t an attack on the police, this was an attack on you and probably Levac,” King said.
Raven looked at Levac, who closed his eyes, and she started getting dressed. “Why would a bunch of American terrorists come after me or even know I would be there? They hate the agency that much?”
“No. They hate preternaturals,” King said.
Raven raised her head and looked at the phone. “Say that again?”
“You heard right, Raven. They are a group of well-armed humans that know you exist, and they hate you. They hunt vampires, lycans, witches, anything and everything they consider inhuman. They’re lead by a man who calls himself Van Helsing,” King continued.
Aspen cocked her head. “Like, the guy from Stoker’s novel? He’s not real, right?”
There was a pause, then, “Of course he was. Raven already put Drakul back in the ground, why would Van Helsing be fiction? But this man isn’t a Van Helsing. His real name is Sawyer Frost.”
“Why is that name familiar? I know I’ve seen it somewhere,” Levac said.
Raven pulled on her sweater and began fighting into her boots. “He killed seventeen people in a small town in Arizona and disappeared from maximum security. He’s on the FBI most wanted list.”
Aspen pulled out her tablet. “Didn’t he claim they were lycans or something?”
King cleared his throat. “He did. Not one was, but that hasn’t stopped him. He and his people have killed two dozen vampires and god knows how many lycans, and anyone who gets in the way.”
Raven fastened her tactical holster and strapped her pistol down. “Why hasn’t a Master or Mistress taken him down?”
“No one knows he exists.
They hide behind their militant group façade and are extremely thorough. They leave no evidence behind to track. Your sister Sable is on the case and was making progress, until this,” King said.
“Sis is doing her usual bang-up job,” Raven muttered.
“Not fair, Ray,” Levac interjected. “She’s better than you think, just not subtle.”
Raven made a face at him and looked back at the phone. “Regardless, he’s after us, Rupe and I will get—”
“Negative,” King snapped.
“I beg your pardon? These nuts killed two humans and tried to kill me!”
“I said negative, Storm. I want you and Levac on the Carmichael case. Those are humans, they come first. You know that,” King said.
Raven glared at the phone so hard Levac pulled it closer to his body, as if he needed to protect it.
“Fine, but I want to be kept in the loop. Someone attacked the Manor and Mom is still sick. The two could be related, King.”
“It’s possible. I will keep you informed, watch your six.”
The line went dead.
CHAPTER SIX
Old Town, The District, Chicago, IL
The sun was just a glow behind the Chicago skyline when Raven parked her Shelby along the street outside Old Town. Thought it was early, there were already cars parked on the street that dead-ended into the archway into the District itself. Raven looked at them in passing and waited for Levac to join her on the sidewalk.
“Are you sure you don’t want to go home?” he asked when he caught up.
“This case isn’t going to solve itself.”
Raven passed through the wrought-iron arch and turned down the sidewalk toward Marie’s. Across the courtyard a few early diners were taking advantage of the sunset and the café tables outside of Isle of Night. Old MacLeod never missed a trick and outside dining was legal without a permit so long as it was within the confines of Old Town. Though her nose was still runny from the gas, she could tell that the diners were enjoying a selection of meat pies and what smelled like fried potatoes. Her stomach growled, but she knew Aspen would be making some kind of dinner, and aside from tofu everything she’d made was delicious.