Raven Mask (26 page)

Rosalin took a step back, her shoulders hunched forward protectively. “Power,” she said, “it felt like power.”

Rupert spoke up again. “I didn’t feel anything either.”

“Rupert,” I said softly.

“I know. I’m human. I wouldn’t.”

“You would if you were a psychic,” Zaphara said.

“Somehow,” he said, “I feel like I should be grateful I’m not.”

It would’ve been best if we had soaked the stakes in the pine overnight, to ensure the wood absorbed the oil. Unfortunately, we didn’t have that much time. Rosalin emptied the bucket in the sink and set about drying the excess liquid off the wood. It would do.

Lenorre had found a dark blue polo shirt with a popular pizza logo on it. Apparently, Trevor had delivered pizzas for a bit of extra cash before he met Isabella. He wasn’t a big guy, but the shirt was still long. I’d had to borrow a pair of drawstring khakis from Rosalin to fully pull off the disguise. We’d also found that Rosalin and I wore the same size shoe, even though she was a few inches taller. She’d loaned me a pair of blue-and-white running shoes, which felt weird and slightly uncomfortable because I wasn’t used to their shape and weight. I was used to boots, skate shoes, and the occasional heel. Given a choice, I’d have preferred the boots or the skate shoes, whether they’re ideal to run in or not.

Trevor had also provided us with a hot bag. The bag Rupert had thought about using wouldn’t have fooled anyone. In fact, if I wasn’t quick enough the smell of pine would give us away. We gathered around the kitchen table, and I busied myself with putting the small-of-the-back holster on. I pulled the baggy shirt over it, which hid the gun, unless someone was looking for one. Rupert confirmed for me that it wasn’t noticeable.

“Done,” Rosalin announced as she finished putting the nine stakes I would carry in the bag. We had fifteen stakes in all, which meant Rosalin, Zaphara, and Rupert each got two. I got stuck with the rest. Lenorre and Eris assured us they didn’t need them, probably because they didn’t want to touch them. It made sense; I didn’t want to play with silver. I couldn’t imagine the vampires wanting to play with their bane, either.

I would take out the vampire who answered the door, if the delivery disguise confused him long enough. The others would follow my lead. We would go in and kill them one by one, until we faced the bastard himself, the Count of Counts.

“Something is missing.” Rosalin eyed me curiously. “You need to pull your hair back. You need a hat too. Hold on.”

She went upstairs, returning with a khaki baseball cap and ponytail holder. “It doesn’t have the logo on it, but it’ll work.”

“I look horrible in baseball caps.”

“It’s a good idea, Kass. You’re not going to a fashion show. Shut up and put the cap on.”

“Thanks, Rupert.” I took the headgear from Rosalin. “Next time we go hunting you get to wear a dress. Okay?”

He chuckled while I pulled my hair up, tucking the ponytail into the hole at the back of the cap and securing it on the top of my head.

“Now,” he said, “we’re ready.”

Chapter Thirty-Three

I tossed the pizza bag over my left arm, leaving my right hand free to go for the stake or, if need be, for my gun. I’d parked the Tiburon on the street corner, and the others had ridden with Rupert. They wouldn’t make their move until I was done taking down the vamp at the door.

As casually as I could I followed the sidewalk to the steps in front of the porch. Climbing them, I unzipped the bag. It’d make it easier to go for the stake if the vampire got suspicious and tried to kill me before I could say anything. Considering the strong smell of pine that leaked from the bag, I was pretty sure shit would hit the fan if the vampire got a whiff of it. I had to be quick, very quick. It was quick or dead.

I paused at the door, taking a deep breath to steel myself, then knocked lightly. Vampires have excellent hearing. I wanted only one vamp to answer the door. It wouldn’t accomplish anything if they all came running.

One of the double doors opened to reveal the same vampire I’d tormented earlier. His features contorted in confusion.

“Pizza?” I said, trying to sound cute and utterly harmless. Lady knows, there isn’t enough Xanax in the world to truly accomplish that, but I tried.

“We didn’t order any—”

With speed known to most lycanthropes, I slipped my hand inside the hot bag, wrapped my fingers around the damp stake, and thrust it into his heart, putting my entire body into the motion. He stumbled backward.

His breath wheezed out as he slipped to the ground. Quietly, I used a hand on his shoulder to keep him from falling with a loud thud.

“Pizza…” His mouth opened and closed like a fish out of water, gasping silently. It wasn’t like in the movies. He didn’t dissolve into a batch of dust or instantly decay. He just died.

“Not bad,” Rupert whispered. “You’re pretty fucking fast. I barely saw you.”

I took it for the compliment it was. “Thank you,” I said, wiping the blood on my borrowed T-shirt.

Zaphara ducked into the doorway, touched the vampire’s forehead, and murmured something I couldn’t understand. A warm breeze of power trickled over my skin.

“They will not see him.”

“I can see him,” I said.

Her smile was grim and dark. “You were watching when I cast the spell. The only thing a vampire may notice is the smell of blood.”

“One down,” I murmured. “Eleven to go.”

“We should split up,” Rupert said.

“Eris and I will go find the Count,” Lenorre said, “as that is where our battle lies.”

“Kass,” Rupert said, “who do you want to go with?”

“I think you should go with Zaphara,” I told Rupert. “I have faith she’ll keep your ass alive.”

“I can take care of myself,” Rosalin said. “I don’t need you to babysit me.”

“Rosalin. This is not the time, nor the place. I want you to come with me.”

She looked like she was ready to argue when I shook my head. We split up into three groups. Zaphara and Rupert would go through the main part of the church with Lenorre and Eris to fight the vampires there. That was where most of the vampires were, according to Zaphara. Rosalin and I would search for the kids. Some of them might’ve been changed, but we would see how many were redeemable.
Redeemable
. It wasn’t a pretty thought.

First, we had to find where they were keeping them. Zaphara had seen the ones that were changed in the main part of the church, but she hadn’t seen anyone that looked like Timothy Nelson. That was either really bad news, meaning he was dead, or he was being held prisoner somewhere. If it were a choice between two evils, I’d prefer he was unharmed and locked up somewhere.

We spotted doors to our left once we emerged from the entryway. I opened one and listened. Nothing. The church was two stories high, so one of the doors led upstairs. Zaphara had explained the layout as best as she could before we left. A small kitchen, a basement, and a storage room were toward the back, and an upstairs was probably where Sunday-school classes were held when the church was in service.

Sounds of fighting broke out in the other room.

“That’s our cue,” I said, opening the first door to find a moldy-smelling bathroom.

I walked lightly, as quietly as I could. Rosalin followed suit. I opened the second door to find a set of stairs.

We slipped up them, emerging into one of the hallways Zaphara had described. A door at the end of the hallway opened and the vampires I’d seen earlier from the porch, the redhead and Goth boy, strode into the hall. They stopped.

“Well,” he said. At first, he looked confused, then the confusion turned into a hard, arrogant look. “Greetings. I’m afraid we didn’t order anything.”

“I’m pretty sure you did,” I said, handing the pizza bag to Rosalin. She took it, steadying a stake in her other hand.

“I think they’re here to play, Dommie,” the woman said in what sounded like an Australian accent.

I drew the Pro.40, clicking the safety off and instinctively aiming at his heart. I was pretty sure Rosalin could handle Red. Goth boy seemed the more threatening of the two.

He looked at the gun with an arrogant smirk.

“Go ahead,” he said, spreading his arms wide and taking a step forward. “Try me.”

“My pleasure,” I said, and squeezed the trigger.

The bullet hit him, his body jerked, but he stood his ground. He placed two fingers over the hole in his heart, smearing the tips of his fingers in the blood, and lifted them to his mouth. “Not a bad shot,” he said, licking the blood from his fingers like a cat bathing. “I’ll give you credit for that.”

Before I could say anything else, Rosalin rushed the female vampire in a blur of speed. It distracted me for a moment, giving Goth boy the time he needed to attack me. My back hit the wall and his hand wrapped around my throat, threatening to crush my windpipe as he picked me up off the ground. I drew a ragged breath over the grip of his fingers and growled.

“Not good enough,” he said.

“Bite me.” I raised the gun between our bodies. He saw the movement, tossing me to the side like a rag doll. I braced myself, allowing my elbows to take the impact when I hit the ground, keeping my forehead from slamming into the carpet. A woman screamed. It didn’t sound like Rosalin.

“Trisha!”

Rosalin’s clawed hand came into view. In her hand she held a mass of pulsing meat. My mind didn’t want to register what it was, but once I looked and saw the hole in her chest, I knew. The smell of blood hit me like some sweet metal.

The vampire’s heart fell to the ground with a meaty thud.

The wolf growled through me, her anger falling from my human lips. I discarded the gun, snatching one of the stakes.

Goth boy heard me, heard the growl rolling from my chest. He started to turn, but it was too late. I hit him, plunging the stake into his body like a blade. I jerked it out and pulled my arm back, ready to land another blow.

His raised hand fell away as he sank to the floor, no longer undead, but truly dead.

“That wasn’t the smartest idea.”

“It worked,” Rosalin said in a growling voice, “didn’t it?”

“I thought you couldn’t shift partially.” I retrieved the hot bag of stakes and my gun.

“I can’t,” she said, voice strained.

Rosalin went to her knees in the hallway as she tried to fight the change. I watched the struggle etch her features, until finally she gave herself to it. The beast rose to the surface, spilling out over her skin in a tide of red fur that was a subtle blend of gray, cream, and dirt red. A red mask circled her eyes, traveling the length of her snout.

She came to me where I knelt, bumping against me in greeting, and I buried my hand in the soft fur at the base of her neck.

I scratched behind her ears. “Come on.”

Rosalin trotted down the hall. She passed each door and sniffed like a K-9 dog looking for drugs. When we reached the end of the hallway, she stopped at the last door.

“Here,” she said, speaking carefully with her wolfish mouth. “I smell vampire.”

I held the gun in a one-handed grip. Rosalin stood next to me, bigger than a Great Dane in her wolf form. Before I could say “Go,” she threw her furred body into the door. A muffled scream came from the room beyond as it collapsed.

Vampires didn’t scream, did they?

Chapter Thirty-Four

The room had been transformed into a makeshift bedroom. Whoever had been in here last had left the overhead light on. A bed covered with a pink-and-white floral comforter stood in the middle of the room. Someone had apparently lived in the church before the vampires had taken over. Even though I’d never seen the Count of Counts, I had a hard time believing the floral decorations were a part of his touch.

Then again, most bad guys have a huge weird streak.

An old wooden desk was pushed into one corner of the room. A nightstand next to the bed held one of those lamps with the body of a vase.

Rosalin followed me, her ears flattened against her skull as she scanned the room. The muffled scream sounded again. I stayed against the wall. The worst thing you can do in a fight is walk out into the open without checking to make sure no one’s there.

“Do you hear that?”

Rosalin nodded, keeping as low to the ground as her height would allow and slinking along the opposite wall.

I heard a noise, almost a knock, but not quite. The lamp wobbled on the nightstand.

“Shit.” I holstered the Pro.40 and walked around the bed.

“Keep an eye on the door,” I told her as I picked up the lamp, jerking the plug out of the wall. Someone was in the wall behind the nightstand. Call me careless, but I was betting it wasn’t a bad guy.

I put my hand flat against the horrendous wallpaper. “Timothy?” I asked, lowering my shields slightly. I sensed a presence of cool energy but couldn’t tell if it was him.

The next blow vibrated against the palm of my hand. It had to be him. “Get away from the wall,” I said. “If you can hear me, get away from the wall.” I waited for the space of a few heartbeats, then picked up the nightstand. I didn’t care how much noise I made. The only thing I suddenly cared about was getting whoever was behind there out. I really hoped the others were kicking some ass in the other room.