by Adams, Cat
wanted blood. I wanted it like I’ve never
wanted anything in my life. I heard the
rattling sound of the bat in a nearby
alcove taking his first breath of the
evening and I hissed at him on pure
instinct. The vampire part of me wanted
to bite down on the neck of the man I’d
gutted while the last flicker of life left
his body, to taste the warm, salt-sweet
flavor that was like nothing else in this
world.
But no. I was human, damn it. I would
not feed from a human. Never.
There was a flash of blinding light, a
whooshing noise, and flame roared out
of Luis’s homemade flamethrower,
filling the alcove, setting the waking
vampire ablaze as Maria and her brother
stumbled past me.
The heat was horrendous, breath-
stealing. I could only whisper a silent
prayer of thanks that we were near
enough to the main tunnel that we could
still breathe after the blast. I gasped, the
nauseating smell of burning hair and
flesh filling my nose and lungs, making
me cough till I gagged. As suddenly as
the blood lust had come, it was now
gone. My stomach lurched; I pulled my
knife from the guard, flinging his body to
the ground.
Distant screams echoed through the
rocky tunnels. The vampires were rising
and some of the human guards hadn’t
made it out.
Oh, fuck a duck.
I picked Serena up by her waist and
tossed her over my shoulder like a sack
of potatoes. She didn’t complain. We
ran. By the light of flickering flames I
could see the fork in the passage that led
to the open desert outside. I could smell
the sand. Twenty yards to the fork, so
maybe thirty past that to the outside. We
were nearly there. But closing fast from
the other direction were vampires,
newly risen and hungry for blood.
Maria stumbled and Luis went down
with her. Luis struggled to his knees,
trying to get off a blast from the
flamethrower. Then a pair of vamps was
on him. They rode him to the ground.
Fast, they were so fast. Serena turned
her head, saw him bleeding, and
screamed. The bats looked up, eyes
glowing. I didn’t doubt mine were as
well
because
everything
was
in
hyperfocus. I managed to pull my gun,
but I was having to aim carefully so as
not to hit the tank, and with Serena
kicking in panic, it was hard. Luis’s
scream of agony cut off abruptly as the
larger male broke his neck with a single
vicious twist.
Another pair of bats, two females,
surged forward. Maria began firing
wildly, not aiming—which was useless.
Grabbing her arm, I flung her ahead of
me.
“Run!” I screamed, as I fired blessed
bullets into the vamps to slow them
down. It wouldn’t stop them entirely, but
I needed to buy us enough time to get to
the cave entrance. Once there, I’d shoot
the gas tank with a tracer round. The
explosion would take out the vamps and,
if we were lucky, block the tunnel
entrance behind us.
Just a few more steps. I twisted, firing
over my shoulder, struggling to stay
balanced while carrying Serena. I pulled
the trigger again and again until the gun
clicked empty. I was almost to the exit. I
could see the stars above and smell
cactus and sage. So tantalizingly close
now—but they were gaining on us.
A bat grabbed at my leg, causing me
to stumble and nearly drop Serena. I
kicked the bat in the face until she let go
but that gave the others time to get
closer. There wasn’t time to pull out the
derringer in my ankle holster.
Thankfully, I didn’t have to. Maria
had reached the cave entrance ahead of
me. She’d pulled herself together, and
though there were tears streaming down
her snarling face, she stood, gun drawn,
feet solid. She wasn’t aiming at me.
“Go, Graves! Get Serena to safety. They
won’t follow. I swear.”
She waved me past, giving me a
shove in the back with preternatural
strength that sent both me and Serena
sprawling a dozen feet from the tunnel
exit. I pushed to my feet and screamed,
“Maria! Get out! You can still make it.”
Even as I yelled, the bats leapt toward
her. Crap.
She didn’t go down when they hit.
They hung on her, fangs embedded in her
snarling form. One hand braced over the
other, she took careful aim and sent a
tracer round back into the tunnel. I
followed the blaze of fire as it flew
straight and true, right into the tank of her
brother’s flamethrower.
I threw myself over Serena to shield
her from the blast, but I had to look back.
The explosion was pretty spectacular,
imprinting red onto my retinas and
turning Maria, Luis, the guards, and a
dozen bats into charcoal.
Yes, she’d betrayed us, but Maria
Ruiz Ortega had found her path to
redemption from Paulo and his cartel.
2
The explosion attracted the notice of the
U.S. authorities. They arrived in record
time: Border Patrol, DEA, CIA. The
hole in the desert floor was a popular
place for the next few hours. I didn’t
know any of the agents, but I had a few
friends in high places I could call on to
convince the guys on-site that I was
trustworthy and on the side of the angels.
It also helped that I had my current
passport, concealed carry permit, and
FBI consultant badge hidden in zippered
pockets sewn into my pant legs. Modesty
be damned. I was out of those jeans in
two shakes to get to my IDs once I was
in custody and in a clean, well-
ventilated holding cell.
The paperwork helped more than the
friends, I think.
“Just one more time, Ms. Graves.
How were MagnaChem and the drug
cartel connected?”
I sighed. “As I have said to the last
four people who asked, they weren’t. I
was guarding new management who
were sent to the MagnaChem plant after
the CEO was arrested and her board
was replaced. Paulo Ortega just
happened to decide to use the same town
as a base, so the arrival turned into an
evacuation. Serena Sanchez was the last
employee out. Paulo was very annoyed
that I managed to keep him from getting
his hands on rich Americans to use as
hostages. He’ll also likely be annoyed
> that I told the agents on the scene how to
find the drugs and guns I spotted in the
tunnel.” The man questioning me
nodded, just as the four other agency
representatives had. Then he left, and I
sat, waiting for the next interrogator.
Finally, a day later, after painfully
thorough debriefings by each of the
agencies, I was allowed to go home. The
agent who escorted me out of holding let
me know that Serena had been airlifted
to a hospital and undergone surgery on
her broken leg.
I nearly wept when I saw my beach
house, I’d been gone so long. This was
probably my longest out-of-town job to
date and it had definitely been one of the
most tiring.
My first call was to my attorney,
Roberto Santos. When I’m traveling out
of the country and have no idea when I’ll
be back, I have my mail forwarded to his
offices. For a hefty fee, the nice
secretaries and accountants attached to
his firm pay my bills, respond to crank
letters and fan mail, and deal with most
other types of problems. Roberto was
one of my friends in high places—he’s a
very well-known attorney in government
circles, which is why he’s my attorney.
“Anything to report, Roberto?” I
couldn’t help but smile as I sank into my
favorite recliner with a tall glass of
crystal-clear water. After weeks of
drinking liquids that I tried not to think
about too hard, I was thrilled to have
water without things floating in it. I
mean, really. Water shouldn’t come with
chunks.
“Nothing other than what you already
know. You certainly caused a stir this
time. Three different agencies are torn
between giving you a medal and
charging you with obstruction of a
government operation.”
The water took on a bitter taste. “I
hope you convinced them a medal was
more appropriate.”
He chuckled. “What I convinced them
is that with you involved, all of the
agencies had both plausible deniability
of the deaths at MagnaChem and access
to a large cache of weapons and drugs to
splash on the front pages. I also
suggested that you wouldn’t claim any
credit in the press. I hope I can count on
that.”
A snorting noise came out of my nose
and I nearly spit water across the floor.
Instead, I swallowed and replied, “No
problem. They’re welcome to the credit.
I’d rather nobody even knew I was
there.”
“I thought that might be the case.” I
heard a voice in the background and
realized I might have interrupted him.
“If you have an appointment, we’ll
talk later. I need a few days’ rest
anyway.”
“That sounds perfect, Celia. I’ll get
your mail service restored and include
our bill in the first batch. Be warned,
it’ll be rather large.”
That made me laugh. He’s nothing if
not honest. Another reason I like him.
“Well worth it, in my opinion. I’ll be
adding
your
bill
to my bill to
MagnaChem. Charge what you will.”
I drank my water slowly, savoring it,
and turned on the television to catch the
latest news. Big shock—there was no
mention of a small town being overrun
by drug cartels just over the Mexican
border. No breaking-news alerts about
the murderous bastard who intentionally
herded people into tunnels to be
slaughtered by vampires. There were
stories about similar atrocities in Africa,
Indonesia, and the Middle East. Just not
too close to home. Heaven forbid.
I nearly turned off the set, but stopped
when the next story came on: an update
on the M. Necrose pandemic that had
begun sweeping across the country a few
months earlier. I’d been one of the first
victims of a bacterium that turned people
into zombies. I turned up the sound.
“Mortality rates have dropped for the
first time since the outbreak started,” the
silver-haired anchor read from his
prompter.
“Los
Angeles
General
reported only five new cases this month
and all were in early stages, treatable
with antibiotics. The crematorium here
in Santa Maria de Luna had only one
disposal this week.” The anchor took a
breath as a graphic appeared on the
screen: a color-coded map of the United
States,
showing
the
heaviest
concentrations of the disease. “Every
U.S. state now has reported cases, with
the exception of Alaska and Hawaii.
Officials at the Center for Magical
Disease Control speculate that extra
security measures for flights into
Anchorage and Honolulu might have
stopped the mages who were hired to
infiltrate the schools.”
Wow.
The
CMDC
had
gone
mainstream since I’d been gone. That’s
the problem with having no access to
television for weeks. It used to be that
the magical branch of the CDC in
Atlanta operated in secret. I hadn’t even
heard of it until I was exposed to the
disease. The general belief was that the
public would panic if it learned there
were magical diseases that could spread
to the human population, so nobody had
ever mentioned that the agency existed.
It was true that there had been mass
panic when the first cases appeared and
there was no cure. People died. Lots of
people. But we’d adapted. It had taken
months, but parents were sending their
kids back to school. Church attendance
was up and telecommuting was giving
way to heavy traffic. Pity about that part.
I had liked the lack of traffic jams.
“The M. Necrose pandemic has now
become the fourth deadliest disease
outbreak in history, surpassed only by
the Black Plague, the Spanish Flu, and
the Bird Flu. Next up, sports on News
Center Eighteen.”
I turned off the TV then and took
another long drink of water. It was as
though I’d never been gone. The world
had gotten along just fine without me. I
leaned back into the cushions and
listened to the sounds of the ocean
through the open screen door. I might
have dozed off; I’m not sure. Suddenly I
heard a bang, started, and looked out the
picture window to see my neighbor,
Inez, at my door. She was wrapped in a
Inez used to be the housekeeper for
my best friend, Vicki Cooper, who had
owned both my beach house and Cooper
Manor, the mansion at the top of the hill.
When Vicki died, she left me the beach
house and left the mansion to Inez and
her husband, David, who had been the
groundskeeper. I trusted them to keep an
eye on my place and to water my plants
in my absence.
I opened the door with a smile. I
hadn’t seen her since well before
leaving for Mexico. “Hey, Inez. How
have you been?” I opened my arms to
give her a hug but she just motioned
behind her with a thumb.
“I was pretty good until your puppy
dumped seaweed in my pool. I was
swimming at the time.”
That was when I looked outside.
“Crap!” One of the abilities of a siren,
besides being able to mentally influence
some people, is an affinity with the
ocean. I’d been away from the water too
long in the Mexican jungles; my control
was fuzzy.
So thinking about the ocean just now
had caused the water to move inland. My
cousin, Adriana, the Pacific siren
princess, told me this was a common
problem when sirens come into their
power. The sea follows us. The water
was up to the bumper of my car and had
indeed dumped seaweed into the lower
swimming pool. There’s an upper one as
well, but Inez prefers the lower one
because it’s on the beach. I doubted that
seaweed was all that had been dumped
in it; there were probably a few buckets
of sand and a variety of small sea
creatures playing there now. “Oh, man.
I’m so sorry, Inez. I’ll clean it up.”
I must have looked pretty stricken at
the prospect of cleaning up after my
mistake because she shook her head with
a note of amusement. “It’s okay. Go
swimming. It’ll follow you back.” I tried
to protest, but she was firm. They would
change the water, and I should go swim.
“Really. David’s been meaning to scrub
down the bottom. We’ll open the drains
and let the water go back out to sea.”
One of the things I like about David is
that he never uses chemicals in the
water, so he could let it drain back to the
ocean with the blessing of the State of
California’s
environmental
offices.
Vicki had installed a very expensive
reverse osmosis filter for the pool, so
the water going out would be perfectly
safe
for
whatever
creatures