Vampire Miami (14 page)

She pulled up sharply before the entrance,
scattering the line of people who were trying to get in. Killed the
engine, and sat back. She took a deep breath, and looked at the
door. That same huge white bouncer. Maria Elena by his side,
staring at her in complete and utter shock.

She got off the bike. Took the key, pocketed
it.

“Selah?” Maria Elena continued to gape.
“What—?”

Selah strode toward the door, people opening
before her. The bouncer stepped forward, blocking her path. She
didn’t know what she was going to do. Had no idea. Felt like her
whole body was a whip, coiled and ready to lash out. Kept walking
right up to him, and when he extended his hand to block her path,
she simply ducked under his arm. He moved so slowly it was
pathetic. It was so easy to simply kick his foot out from under
him, the sweep of her own leg languorous and slow, and then he was
falling, crashing down onto his side. Without planning to, she
kicked him across the jaw, not even that hard, and his head snapped
back over and he lay still.

Maria Elena was staring at her as if she were a
ghost come back from the dead. Selah winked and walked past her,
into the club. Through the front door and into the pounding,
pulsing darkness beyond.

The music was all consuming. Selah walked into
the nexus and turned toward the hidden door. It was locked, so she
stepped back and kicked it open, planting her heel right next to
the handle, shattering the lock and sending the door cracking and
caving inward. Laughed, laughed at how easy it all was. Nothing, it
seemed, could stop her.

She entered the narrow hall, listening
carefully, alert. Hector burst out of the door ahead of her, a
heavy pistol in his hand. He started to train it on her, finger
already tightening on the trigger, when a flood of adrenaline
dumped itself into her system. Selah
moved.
Ducked low and
to the left, leaped forward as he fired at where she had been. She
surged forward and closed the distance, came up under his arm and
behind him. He was only now starting to turn his head, trying to
track her, but it was far too late. She reached out and took him by
the back of the neck and one shoulder and thrust him into the wall,
turning at the hip so he was lifted right off the ground and
crashed into the cinderblocks, bouncing off and falling to lie at
her feet.

She stared down at him. Part of her mind reeled,
screaming at her, not recognizing what she was doing, terrified at
how easy it was to hurt people. But she ignored it, turned to look
at the door through which Hector had emerged.

Selah stepped inside and saw Rupert fumbling
with a pistol. He looked up at her with sheer horror writ across
his face. Behind him was a bank of security screens, showing chaos
following in her wake. The crowd milled at the entrance, security
guards running up, guns out. People panicked within the nexus. She
had only moments.

“My Omni,” she said, extending her hand, as if
inviting him to dance. “Give it to me.”

Rupert stared at her with blank incomprehension.
“What?”

Rage scorched her from within like a column of
flame. “My Omni!” she screamed, taking up a chair and throwing it
just to his left, shattering a number of screens and sending sparks
flying in great sizzling arcs. “Where is it?”

“OK, OK!” he yelled, falling away from the
sparks, dropping the gun to wrap his arms over his head. “I’ll get
it!” He ran over to a desk and yanked open a drawer, rummaged
inside, and drew out her machine. “Here!” He held it out to her.
She glided forward and took it. Rubbed her thumb lovingly across
its screen and pocketed it.

She was out of time. This was ridiculous. All
this danger for one communication unit! She wanted to laugh, felt
delirious and alive. Selah stepped back out into the hallway. It
was still clear. She ran lightly down it, stepping over Hector’s
body, and out into the nexus, right into a knot of security guards.
They had electrified batons out, were clearly not ready for her.
She ran through them, ducking and turning and spinning as they
began to react and swing out at her. Under a baton, around a second
man, her back momentarily touching his as she swept past. She
allowed momentum to carry her past the third, their batons leaving
lazy trails of ozone in the air. She was simply too fast for
them.

She ran out to the door, people scattering
before her, and then paused. A woman stood before the bike,
examining it. She was dressed in a white leather suit that hugged
her angular frame beautifully, her hair so blond, it was almost
white. She turned to stare at Selah. Black eyes. Eyes like pitch,
like the depths of the earth. Terror and elation, panic and
euphoria surged up within Selah, and she stepped forward, aware of
the security guards rushing up behind her. The blond began to walk
forward, frowning in annoyance. Clearly not understanding yet what
was happening, only aware of a disturbance. Of a young black girl
walking toward her without sufficient deference. They approached
each other, closed the distance far too quickly. The woman opened
her mouth to issue a command and Selah let slip the reins that held
back her body and leaped.

Straight at the woman, arms crossed before her
face in an X. The woman’s black eyes widened and then she was
bending back, flexing like a bow, moving so quickly her long hair
was left in a white arc above her. Selah dove through her hair, hit
the ground on the other side and threw herself into a roll. Then
she was up on her feet and on the bike, key in the ignition, and
the engine roared to life.

The vampire woman had dropped back onto one
outstretched hand, and just as quickly shoved herself back upright,
spinning around, face contorted in fury and surprise, but Selah
wasn’t going to wait around. She turned the accelerator all the way
and nearly fell off the bike as it slammed forward. She slid down
the street in one long smear of movement, and then tore the bike to
the right, leaving the club behind.

It was a simple matter to navigate her way back
to the great bridge. To shoot out back along its length, thrilling
at the speed, deliberately not think about what had happened. What
was still happening. She raced back onto the mainland and worked
her way back along the streets that were already beginning to feel
familiar. There was the bus in the intersection. She slowed, unsure
as to where to go. What to do. Eased the bike down the street and
crawled past the Palisades. She could possibly force her way inside
with her new strength, but that felt wrong, a violation. So she
drove past, and then turned the bike around and began to cruise
downtown.

Eventually, she stopped before a small park.
Parked the bike, kicked out the kickstand, and leaned back in the
seat. She was starting to tremble violently, she realized. She
raised her hands and stared at them. Her heart was beating far too
quickly. She felt fevered, unable to focus her thoughts. Taking a
deep breath, Selah got off the bike and walked into the park.

It was silent, still. A cicada chirped somewhere
close, and it seemed strange to move so slowly after that extended
headlong rush on the bike. She moved to the center of the little
park and sat carefully on a stone bench. Mosquitoes whirled in the
air about her, but she ignored them.

For the first time, she tried to think. To
question. Tried to slow her thoughts down, much as a wrangler might
try to break a wild horse. She clenched her hands between her knees
and bowed her head. Fought the strange and persistent euphoria that
still swelled her lungs, that made it almost impossible to sit
still. It demanded movement, action, speed—violence.

Selah lifted her face to the heavens. The moon
was above her now, looking distant, half hidden behind the wisps of
cloud. She stared at it, sought help from its white expanse. Closed
her eyes.

“Come on,” she whispered. Rocked slightly back
and forth, tucked her chin to her chest. “Get it together. Think.
Think!”

Slowly, she fought for calm. Slowed her breath,
stilled her thoughts. The feel of her toe connecting with the
bouncer’s chin. The boneless jarring of Hector’s shoulder against
the wall. She dug out her Omni, and stared at the dead screen.
Almost turned it on, but then stopped. It was probably bugged. For
all she knew, it was giving a GPS signal and betraying her location
right now. She set it aside bitterly.
What had she been
thinking?

Start at the beginning. The vampire. He had
bitten her. She should have died—could have died. Being fed on
wasn’t lethal, but he’d acted as if he planned to drain her. She
tried to recall the fear, the terror of that dark moment, but she
couldn’t summon it through the thrill that persisted in her blood.
She’d blacked out, drowned in pleasure. Then—what? Had awoken, and
the vampire had been crying. Selah rubbed her face. This was
ridiculous. Vampires didn’t cry. They couldn’t feel. Not really.
Hence their capacity for inhuman cruelty. Yet he’d been on the
ground, sobbing. And she? She had been flying high. Was only now
coming down. What did it mean?

Selah stood, unable to sit still any longer.
Began to pace. And it wasn’t just a high. She looked at her hands.
She had been able to
move
faster. Had a level of confidence
she’d never experienced before. Sure, she sometimes acted
confident, but never without a core of doubt, of insecurity under
it all. Not like this, not acting without thought, without
doubt.

She stopped. Had she attacked a vampire? Selah
blinked and then groaned. She had. She had attacked that blond
lady. Only the complete surprise her attack had caused had let her
get away. That and the bike. Oh, god. She was so dead.

Selah looked about the park. Where was she?
Where could she go? What was going to happen next? She had to get
rid of the Omni, or leave it somewhere till she could make sure it
was clean. Then what? They would be looking for her. The
vampire—the first one—had said they’d bugged her Garden. So they
knew she was involved with the Resistance now. When that vampire
returned to his home, he would tell them what had happened. They
now knew that she had attacked Magnum. They would be coming for
her.

Panic. She wanted to run, but where to? She
couldn’t leave Miami. That damn wall was complete, encircling the
entire city from coastline to the south right up and around the
north. Swim? The vampire and the US Coast Guard were on high alert
for just such an eventuality. Part of the Treaty. She could hide,
perhaps. Go to ground. But for how long? Would they forget? Selah
laughed, hysteria clawing at the edge of her voice—vampires lived
forever. They would never forget.

Selah looked at the moon once more. She had
truly fucked up this time. There was no denying it. There was no
way out. The Resistance had said they wanted nothing to do with
her. The vampires would start hunting her as soon as they figured
out what had just happened. Could she perhaps get into the embassy?
Maybe, but then what? She didn’t have an ID, and she’d be handed
over the moment the vampires demanded her return.

Selah sat and lowered her face into her hands.
Bleak despair welled up under her ever-diminishing euphoria. She
thought of her dad. What would he have told her? What advice would
he have given her now? She bit her lower lip. Pictured his face.
His kind smile.
Selah, you’re in it now. If things have to end,
make sure they end right.

She sniffed. End things right. There was no
getting away from it. She wasn’t going to last long now. She felt
brave just thinking that, admitting it. Facing the truth. She was
done for. She wouldn’t be able to save her dad. Had she thought
herself a hero? What a disaster. So what was there left for her to
do? Feeling wretched, feeling her heart break, she realized that
all she wanted was to say goodbye to Mama B. Apologize one last
time. Tell her she was finally starting to understand why she’d
left Selah and her dad, no matter how bad it had hurt. Give her one
last hug, and then face the music.

It felt liberating to make a decision. Felt like
taking control. She took another sniff. She would not cry. Not now,
not when this was all her fault. One last night, and then she’d say
goodbye to Mama B in the morning. Then wait for the cops or
security or whatever they were called to roll by and pick her up.
And then? Then she didn’t know. She’d take it from there, one step
at a time. Time to grow up.

She walked over to the bike. It had an
almost-f tank of gas. She had a night to kill. Might as well
enjoy the ride while she still had it. If she kept moving, kept to
the main streets, then nobody would be able to bother her. She
climbed on the bike, no longer as confident. It was incredibly
heavy. How had she sawed it across lanes, whipped it back and forth
at such speeds? She felt nervous now just turning it on. So much
power. It was too easy to imagine falling and scraping her skin and
flesh right off her bones, bouncing and tumbling like a rag doll.
But there was enough of that foreign confidence left for her to
turn the key and rev the throttle. She took a deep breath, a
steadying breath, and looked down the street.

Her last night. She eased the bike forward, into
the street, enjoying its sweet, low growl. Rolled forward and
picked up speed. No mad dashes now, no headlong dives into the
night. Now she just wanted to cruise and admire this ruined city,
this fallen metropolis in all its foreign, frightening beauty. The
air had grown cooler and was rich with the smell of night flowers
and the distant tang of the ocean. She rolled down the block,
leaving the little park behind, and then took a right, away from
the ocean, turning inland, deciding to see how far she could drive
before she hit the Wall.

The night passed. Selah spent hours simply
cruising, navigating around deserted cars, pausing on occasion to
stare at abandoned mansions, to look up at blind skyscrapers that
groped up dumbly at the heavens. There were few people out, and she
was able to accelerate past anybody that might have given her
trouble. She went over what had to have been the Miami River,
pausing at the apex of the bridge to watch the flow of the waters.
She drove through endless empty suburbs, beautiful neighborhoods
that had been reclaimed by nature, vines and weeds breaking the
asphalt, entombing the houses, gardens grown wild and fey in the
night.