by Faith Hunter
“Got the sites up at HQ,” JoJo said. “Rick?”
Rick said, “I like the southern site. Ingram, you and I were there most recently. Do you concur?”
“Affirmative,” I said. “The slight ridge gives us protection from the estate and errant gunfire. But if we like it, then so might enemy vamps. What if they’re already there?”
“We need to know what direction the attack came from,” Occam said.
I was already dialing Yummy again. “Hello,” a breathy voice answered. Relief surged through me. “Maggot,” she said. “What’s your ETA?”
I glanced at Occam. He said, “Ten if traffic is agreeable. SWAT will be at least thirty.”
“We won’t last thirty,” Yummy said. I heard a voice in the background and Yummy’s voice turned away from the cell. “No. You can’t give any more. Get out of here. I’m healed enough and you’re too much of a temptation. If you spot another human to feed me, send them my way. But protect Ming’s back trail.”
“Yes, my mistress,” the voice said.
“Ming has a way out?” I asked.
Back into the cell, Yummy said, “No comment. They breached the main house. Ming is safe, but I don’t know for how long.”
“What direction did they come from?” I asked, strapping my low-light/infrared headset in place.
“The ones I saw came from the south.”
“Nothing from Shaddock?” I asked. “Is he almost here?”
“Nothing. Not a word.”
Rick said into my earpiece, “We just got word that the Master of the City of Asheville’s clan home is under attack.”
Yummy must have heard it. Vampire hearing was better than human. “Shaddock’s home is under attack while he’s here, helping Ming? That is not a fluke.”
Into the earpiece, Margot said, “It may not be relevant, but I was just updated re the unconfirmed bureau reports on the invading rogue vampires. It suggests that over twenty vampires made their way ashore before, during, and after the Mithran change in leadership. LaFleur? Comments?”
Occam laid on the brakes as an ancient VW van coasted out of the way. We passed the rotting van at the speed of light. I yanked my seat belt tighter across my belly and wondered if prayer would keep me alive if we flipped at this speed.
“Similar intel came in earlier today,” Rick said, “and I just now opened the reports. Possibility of a number of vamps making their way to Florida. Three unknown vamps were seen one night in Myrtle Beach, South Carolina. The next morning a dozen teenagers down for spring break disappeared. Their families have heard nothing from them. We assume they were rolled and carted away. No further word or sightings. Local clans denied all knowledge and were cooperative with authorities. No indication vamps came up from Louisiana to the Appalachians.”
Margot and Rick had similar information. Maybe the FBI and PsyLED were sharing intel, finally. Looking into the darkness, I checked my headgear, twisting the knob back and forth, switching from the greenish illumination of low-light to infrared.
Occam took a hard turn that rocked the car. He said, “Lights and sirens off. Ingram and I are in the area of the clan home. Local marked units are stopping traffic behind us. Make sure they know that the rest of our team needs to get in and tell them to turn off the blue lights. That makes them easy to target.”
“Roger that,” Rick said.
“Ingram and I’ll take a leisurely drive to reconnoiter.” Occam braked hard to a laid-back twenty-five miles an hour and rolled down his window. I followed suit and muggy summer air billowed in. I wasn’t even under fire and I was cold and shaking. The heat felt good. I hadn’t even noticed the air conditioner running.
“Hurry,” Yummy said. “I’ve only got three rounds of ammo left and I’ve bled like a stuck pig. They can find me by the smell and I know they’re inside.”
“Where are you?” I asked. I took a breath and forced myself to calm. Took another. I began to steady. Began to ease. This was my job. I could do this.
“Over the garage,” Yummy said. “Low-ceilinged crawl space. It’s set for a secure sniper hide, but there’s no protection for me from inside, once the defensive team is down and the house is penetrated.”
We passed by the spot Margot wanted for a staging area. It was occupied by two vans, lights off, when there should have been nothing there but an empty lot. My heart thumped hard. Fanghead vans? I said, “Southern potential staging area is a no-go. Two twelve-person-sized panel vans are parked there. Nothing visible on low-light or IR. Kent, when you drive by, see if you can spot anything.”
“Roger that,” Lainie said.
“I see the clan home property,” I said. “What I can make out from the street looks peaceful. No visible bodies on low-light or IR. However, the security lights are out and the grounds are dark.”
“I smell blood,” Occam said. “Vamp and human. A lot of it.”
Rick said, “SWAT will take out the panel vans first. Set up staging area at the northern site.”
“Northern site. Copy that,” Occam said.
“Body!” I said, pointing. “Two o’clock.” It was lying on the side of the road, in tall, decorative grass, and it wasn’t showing much on IR. “Pull over and put the car between the house and me. I’ll examine it.”
Occam braked and backed up, cutting his lights. “Make it fast.”
I opened the door and slid from the car, weapon in hand, a silver-lead round in the chamber. I switched on my tiny penlight and took in the body. “Female. Throat torn out.” I bent closer and opened her mouth, looking for vamp fangs on their retractable hinges. “Human. Deceased. She’s wearing pajamas, so she might be a local. Cool enough to have been here a while.” I was proud that my words made sense and my voice was steady. Strangely, seeing the body had smothered my panic.
“They probably took over a house near Ming’s and drained the inhabitants,” Rick said.
I slid back into the car and closed the door. Buckled up. Occam looked at me, his lips asking silently, You okay?
I nodded. Lying. I wasn’t panicky now, but I wasn’t okay. Occam had to be able to smell my sweat but didn’t say anything as he progressed along the road, one hand on the wheel. His weapon was on the edge of the open window, ready to fire with his maimed left hand. It would be an awkward shot, but better than nothing. “Northern staging area just ahead. Slowing,” Occam said. “No sign of vehicles. Turning in. Tell SWAT we have an acceptable staging area, but there are three occupied homes between us and the target.”
“Copy,” Rick said.
Yummy whispered, “I hear footsteps. Too soft to be human. I count two Mithrans coming up the stairs.”
“We can’t wait,” I said.
“Ingram and Occam. Stay put,” FireWind said.
I wanted to scream. “Respectfully, sir, we just found a dead body,” I said, hearing the fury and disagreement and fear in my words, “indicating imminent danger to human inhabitants.” A thought hit me. “Send a unit by with lights and sirens. Maybe it’ll startle them away.”
“Negative,” Rick said to me. “I will not endanger my team. Or the local LEOs.”
“No time,” Yummy whispered. I heard the cell placed down with a soft clatter.
“Passing the southern perimeter,” T. Laine said. “No live or undead bodies at the panel vans per seeing working, but psy-meter shows presence of Mithran energies. Permission to disable the vans?”
“Arcane or mundane means?” FireWind asked.
“Either.”
“Come on, come on, come on,” I whispered to the night and to Yummy.
“If you can disable the vehicles without danger to yourselves, yes,” Rick said.
“Okay, boss. Going in,” Lainie said.
Over my cell I heard two shots fired, close up. The particular but distant ululation of a vamp dying. Thumping sounds. Shots fi
red from farther away. Then a final shot, Yummy’s last round. Then nothing. I wanted to scream or throw things. We were right here. We could have done something.
A full minute later, her voice rasping from physical activity, T. Laine said, “Vans can still drive, but they won’t track properly with multiple tires slashed in the sidewalls.” Her car door closed softly in the background. “Drive,” she finished.
Over the cell came a peculiar sound like a titter of drunken laughter. “Day-am. I’m a better shot than I thought,” Yummy whispered.
Relief shook me like a child’s rattle. Tears filled my eyes. Thank you, I mouthed to the night and to God. I was pretty sure I had been praying—for a vampire, of all the strange things in my life.
Yummy said, “I took their weapons and the last of their blood. I now have a total of six rounds and a measure of healing, but it’s not enough. I’m leaking and we have more troubles coming. Humans on the way. And they are not friendlies.” I heard shots in the distance over the cell, staccato. And the sound of voices pleading, barely heard. “They have our humans hostage. I’m going in.”
Rick said, “Tell her no. SWAT is nearly there.”
“I heard,” Yummy whispered. “Rick LaFleur, if you can hear me, I’m not one of yours, but you can call this fanghead recon. I’m at the top of the stairs. I count ten human heartbeats and smell two enemy fangheads. Can’t get any closer without them catching my scent or sound. Backing back to my sniper hole.”
Rick cursed softly. Occam’s hands tightened on the wheel. This passivity was probably making his cat crazy.
“Can you get out?” I asked. Occam’s headlights illuminated a raccoon waddling in front of the car. Three juveniles gamboled behind the mother. They all disappeared.
“Not without walking through the hostages.”
“Can you punch your way through the floor into the garage?” I asked.
There was a sharp silence on the cell. Then, “That, Maggot, is brilliant. It’ll ruin my manicure, though.”
“We all make sacrifices,” I said. My sarcasm seemed to help because Yummy laughed.
Two cars and a SWAT van sped in behind us. Over the cell came the sounds of splintering wood. Shots fired as Yummy laid down cover fire. Then more splintering wood.
“I’m in the garage,” she whispered. “I have two rounds left. Ming will kill me, but I’m taking her Mercedes limo. The armor will let me punch through the garage door. Tell your people I’m heading out.”
“Copy that,” Rick said over the earbud. “One nonhostile escaping.” He gave details.
I heard a half dozen shots. Yummy grunted in pain. An engine roared to life, followed by a crash. And the sound of Yummy’s laughter, a little more crazy than I might have hoped. “Hey, Maggot,” she shouted. “I need blood. I got a couple more holes in me than just a minute past. Feed me, woman!”
“I’ll stake you first,” I said.
Yummy kept laughing. Her limo whipped into the small partially empty lot and up to Occam’s car. “Hello, cat. Maggot,” she said through her open window. There was blood on her clothing and in her pale hair, visible in the low glow created by multiple sets of headlights. Her skin was paper white and bloodless and she was vamped out. “I’m dying of thirst, but you can offer to be my hero later. What’ll it take to get SWAT to breach now?”
“They would have to be killing the human hostages,” Rick said into my earbud.
“I smelled dead and wounded humans,” Yummy said. Vampire hearing had let her overhear Occam’s and my comms. I’d have to remember that. “Two shot dead that I can account for. A lot . . . of human . . . blood,” she added. She was breathing fast and sounded a little crazy. Or a lot hungry.
Rick said, over the para frequency, “Gonzales. We have reliable inside intel that the attacking vampires and their humans are killing the local humans. Do we have a go?”
“We have a go,” FireWind said. Yummy laughed, a sound so far from human amusement that it made my hair stand up.
Gonzales said, “Douglas and Montgomery, take the back. Josephs and Avery, in through the garage door. I understand there’s a car-sized hole in it now. Smith and Flint, you have perimeter. Matthews and I have the front. On my mark.”
Yummy opened the limo door. Swiveled her body around until her feet were able to drop to the ground. Her blood splattered the earth only inches from Occam’s car. Only feet from me. The soil soaked up the vampire blood. Bloodlust stirred. I forced my shoulders down and breathed through my nose, watching the blood trickle down Yummy’s legs onto the ground, crimson in the headlights. “Hungry,” she whispered, echoing the need of my land.
Seconds later I heard each of the teams report they were in position. Then the SWAT leader said, “On go. One. Two. Three. Gogogogogogo.”
My heart leaped into my throat.
Yummy growled and leaned out of the limo. The sclera of her eyes was scarlet, her pupils dilated far wider than a human’s. A wet breeze off the Tennessee River blew through, pressing the blood-wet dress against Yummy’s body. She was naked beneath scarlet-soaked fabric. Her blood trickled onto the ground in a thin stream.
Over the earbud came the sound of crashing, splintering wood. Three shots. Then a lot of shots. People shouting. Cops shouting, “Down. Down on the ground.” “Put the weapon down. Slowly.” “Down. Hands behind your head.” Then gunfire. And SWAT returning gunfire. “Multiple civilians down,” Gonzales shouted. “Get me medic!”
“Clear the house,” FireWind said.
Gonzales cursed. Sweat slimed down my back, sticking my clothes to the Kevlar vest. I blinked sweat out of my eyes. Yummy was watching Occam, her hunger with a target.
Seconds ticked away as his men cleared the house. “Clear.” “Clear.” “Clear.” “Clear.” The voices ran together in my brain, none of them familiar, none of them real to me. And all of them out of sight in a firefight.
Yummy grabbed the limo door. Her talons were pointed and sharp as knives in the faint illumination from inside the limo. My hands clenched into fists. I checked my weapon. Again. Silver-lead ammo. One in the chamber. Ready to fire.
“We got a runner,” a SWAT team member said, then shouted, “Stop! Police!”
The sound of gunfire in measured bursts.
Yummy laughed. If Death himself could laugh, that would be the sound. “Huuuungry.”
“One down,” the same voice said. “Female vampire. Not true-dead. Took two torso rounds and staked in the abdomen.”
“Give her to me,” Yummy said, her voice a low snarl.
“Not happening,” Occam said casually. His weapon was at ready. My cat-man wasn’t casual at all.
“I am injured. Feed me, werecat.”
“Not happening,” Occam said.
“Clearing the southern side of the house,” Gonzales said. Seconds later he said, “Main room. Clear. Multiple bodies, human and vamp. Some alive.” His tone changed. “Son of a bitch!” Three shots fired. “Get medic in here now! And blood donors for the fangheads.” He fired three more shots. And three more.
“Copy that,” FireWind said. “LaFleur—” His voice disappeared beneath gunshots from the house.
Yummy stood slowly, dragging herself to her feet. Her dress had been gray. Or maybe green. There was so much blood on it the original color was hard to discern in the poor light. “Huuuungry,” she whispered. Her blood formed a small pool on the soil. Soulwood opened inside of me. Wanting.
“Uh-oh,” I said.
Occam raised his weapon and placed it on the window opening. “Nah-ah-ah,” he said, almost playfully. “Keep it together, fanghead. I have silver-lead ammo.”
“You would kill me?” she asked, a soft accent on the last word.
I raised a hand to my mic and shifted to a private channel. I whispered, “Jo. Yummy’s hurt. Vamped. Get me a donor.”
“Roger that
,” Jo said.
I switched back to para freq in time to hear Rick say, “Local LEOs have three limos full of Mithrans under gunpoint. Tennessee plates. Get someone to make sure it’s Shaddock and convince the locals to let him and his people through. He has humans and vamps who can feed our wounded.”
T. Laine said, “Kent here. Dyson and I can handle that.” Their car spun out of the lot, throwing gravel in the glare of the headlights.
I hadn’t even noticed that my teammates were onsite. Yummy didn’t notice that they had left. Her black and scarlet eyes were focused solely on Occam. “Feed me and I will heal you,” she whispered.
“Not. Happening.”
In the earbud, Margot said, “If you need backup to get Shaddock free, let me know.”
Gonzales shouted, “Where’s medic? We have multiple injured. Two bodies in the shrubbery, condition unknown. More in the back bedroom. We need uniforms deployed to keep the house secure so we can expand our perimeter.”
Rick said, “Officers on the way. Local LEOs are moving in to your location and encircling the location of the disabled panel vans in case the vamps show there.”
More cars and vans began to pour in, both here and on the site of the shooting. News vans were being stopped at the perimeter. Yummy’s talons were slowly piercing the steel of the limo door. She stepped from the limo, exposing her torso and abdomen. Occam swore.
Yummy had been shot multiple times, open wounds dripping. Her clothing was drenched scarlet in the glancing lights from the cars all around. She was staring at Occam and . . . smiling. It was enough to make me wither inside, even as I licked my lips in need. Occam said, “We need humans to feed an injured vampire, at my twenty, now!”
I focused on her neck wounds. Blood dribbled out, looking fresh, though I knew it was cold and watery. My body reacted to the blood on her clothes, the blood splattering on the ground. Bloodlust that had been a low, slow need rose and thrummed through me. It moved the way sound waves move along a stringed instrument, humming, a prolonged and varying noise of need.