Authors: Faith Hunter
Chi-Chi climbed into the backseat and closed the door softly, handing us com units.
“Lime Rickey and Hi-Fi have reconnoitered and are in position,” he said as we slid
into the units and tested functionality. “The front door is six, and Lime is at two,
Hi is at seven. We have a single-family dwelling with six-foot alleys to either side
and a small backyard, fenced, with a couple of pit bulls, unchained. We have tranks
and Lime can take out both dogs safely. What we don’t know is if Leo is inside.”
“Give me a minute,” I said, and slipped out. Eli had rigged his vehicle to be able
to turn off all the interior lights, which made it easy to come and go without being
seen by neighbors, not that many were up at this hour. I moved through the night,
my nose to the wind.
And I smelled blood. A lot of it, which made sense of this whole kidnapping. Leo’s
enemy had kidnapped him, drained him, and placed dinner before him. If what I was
guessing about the transmission of the vampire plague was correct, it was probably
someone who had the vamp disease. If Leo had drunk, it was likely that he was sick
now, just like his old lover Rosanne Romanello.
Crap
. “Boys, I’m circling the house,” I said. “Don’t trank or shoot me, okay?”
“Copy.” “Copy that.” And a snort of laughter from Chi-Chi.
Listening, sniffing, I moved around the house, drawing on my Beast senses. At one
window I heard voices. Panting. It was the sound of pain, when one has been so damaged
that one can no longer even scream.
Crap. Leo
.
I tapped my mic. “Leo is in a room at nine o’clock. He’s hurt. Where are the blood-servants?”
“Pulling up now,” Chi-Chi said.
“When we go in, have them slit their wrists and follow close.”
“Say again?” Chi-Chi said, startled.
I chuckled, no humor in the sound at all. “Leo will attack any human who gets near.
If he scents blood, he’ll likely go for that site rather than rip out their throats.
I’m guessing that they know all this, but just in case, remind them. The wound doesn’t
have to be deep, but it has to be actively bleeding. It might save their lives. “
“Son of a— Copy,” Chi-Chi said. “Why don’t you take point?”
In this case, point wasn’t a position of honor for the best warrior in the bunch,
but the most dangerous position for the one they liked least. “Gee thanks, Chi-Chi.”
“Anytime, Legs.”
At least there was amusement in his tone. I heard a car brake out front and I pulled
my shotgun from its spine sheath. Chi-Chi said, “Takeout is here. Trank the dogs.”
From the backyard I heard spats of sound and yelps as an air gun fired. The dogs went
quickly silent.
“Dogs out,” Lime whispered. “Moving to the back door.”
A moment later Chi-Chi said, “Blood meals are appropriately bleeding.”
I raced around the house to the front door and up the steps, hearing the sound of
untrained feet running noisily behind me. The door was steel. Fortunately, when I
turned the knob, it clicked open. It wasn’t locked. Which meant very sloppy vamps
or a trap. I said a small prayer and pulled on Beast-speed as I pushed open the door
and raced inside. The place was unlit and unfurnished, all the rooms I could see were
empty, but the smell of blood was everywhere.
Eli moved to my left and just behind: Chi-Chi and Hi-Fi were behind him. We checked
each room, though the scents told me everyone was in the room with Leo. From the back
of the house, I heard Lime Rickey enter.
I lifted my nose and followed the scent to the room on the left in the middle of the
house. A light was on inside. Beast pounded her strength and speed into my bloodstream.
I caught a breath and whispered, “On three.” I turned the knob. “One, two, three.”
And slammed open the door.
In the space of a single heartbeat, light stabbed my eyes, and the smell of sickness
assaulted my nose as I took in the room. It was a bloodbath. There were two bleeding
blood-servants standing beside the back wall, and two bleeding vamps, sitting on a
blood-drenched sofa. The strangers were sick, all of them.
Shackled to the far wall was what had once been Leo. Silver cuffs burned into his
flesh at wrists and ankles. He was vamped out, his jaw dropped and thrust forward,
looking as if it was unhinged—three-inch fangs out and glistening. His hair clung
to his gore-smeared, sweaty skin in wild, bloody strands. His clothes were mostly
torn off. Or bitten off. Fang marks were all over him, at knees, crotch, and elbows
mostly, all places away from the defensive weapons of his own fangs and claws. His
skin was palepalepale, ashen, dead-looking. His eyes were wild. Insane. His fangs
were pearl white, no blood was smeared at his mouth. He hadn’t fed from the infected
offerings.
Before the vamps could move, I fired the M4, taking down the vamp on the left, then
the one on the right as he stood. Nonlethal, standard ammo, midcenter, abdominal shot
placement. Eli and Chi-Chi were standing over the humans, weapons aimed down at them.
I hadn’t seen or heard them taken down, but I had felt the thuds under my feet as
they hit the floor, forcefully. I couldn’t hear myself ready the shotgun for another
round, nor my voice over the concussion in my ears, but I knew the vamps heard when
I shouted. “You move, you die true-dead.” One sank back on the sofa, clutching at
her belly. The other one rushed me.
I reacted without thinking, dropped to one knee, and fired again, this time a head
shot. The vamp dropped like a thrown rock—with momentum. I dodged left, out of the
way of the falling body and bloody bits. So much for keeping them all alive.
Leo threw himself against the shackles at the smell of more fresh blood. It was the
final proof that he hadn’t fed off the infected blood offerings; he’d not still be
this ravenously hungry. A weight fell from my shoulders at the thought. His blood-servants
entered, hesitating a moment before converging on Leo. I didn’t watch as the first
one lifted his wrist to his master.
* * *
Sixty minutes after we had left, Eli and I were back at my house. Half an hour later,
we were each eating a very good, very rare steak and sharing the events with Alex.
When we were sated and the adrenaline had been burned off with several beers, Eli
said, “So. Are we hired?”
He looked cocky and amused, and I tilted my head. “Ehhhh.” I looked at his brother.
“Your brother can follow orders and take down a house. How about you? You got info
for me?”
“Yeah,” Alex said. “I sent you some stuff.”
I opened my own laptop, which felt increasingly out of date after seeing the kid’s
electronics. The folders he sent were neat and orderly, the files organized under
headings that were easy to follow, easy to read, and comprehend. I hit
PRINT
and added paper to the printer. I e-mailed the entire batch to Reach and dialed his
number. When the line opened, he said, “Nice work. Leo is saved by the famed vampire-killer.”
I heard the sarcasm and him clapping in the background.
I didn’t reply or rise to the bait. Instead, I said, “This one is for our old fees,
not the exorbitant prices you’ve been charging me.”
“And if I disagree?” When I didn’t reply, he sighed and said, “Fine. What?”
“I just sent you a file. I want to know how it’s organized. I want you to run a search
through it for anything with the name of the Enforcer in Asheville. See who it ties
into. See what you can dig up.” I hung up and turned to Alex. “The name of the Enforcer
in Asheville was Ramondo Pitri. You do the same assignment. We’ll see how your skills
stand up to Reach’s.”
The kid’s eyes glowed. “Sweeeet.” He went to work, fingers clacking on the Seattle
vamps’ Apple, his own laptop, and the two electronic tablets that still functioned,
all four devices at once. Eli stared at his brother, then at me, and shook his head.
Despite my demand that Alex had kitchen duty, he started cleaning up my kitchen. I
liked that in a man.
Fifty-two minutes later my cell rang. At the same moment, Alex hit
SEND
. “Done,” he said.
I opened my cell and said, “Thanks, Reach.”
“I’ll e-mail the info to you,” he said.
I opened Alex’s new file and smiled. I had a new name to work with, a vamp named Hieronymus,
which I couldn’t even pronounce. It seemed that Big H was mentioned in dozens of the
files, as the next vamp-master to be challenged and attacked by the mystery vamp.
At last I had a name and place to start. I compared and the same name popped up on
Reach’s search too. I looked at the two men sitting in my kitchen. “You’re hired.
Dawn is close. You start at noon. There are four bedrooms upstairs. Don’t take the
one over my bedroom. Don’t play loud music. Get some sleep.”
“I’ve got some ordnance in the truck,” Eli said.
“As long as it isn’t combustible or fragmentary explosives, you can bring it inside.”
From his expression I could tell he was trying to figure out what to do with the explosives.
I shook my head. Soldiers and their toys. With a full stomach and as much security
in place as I could manage, I went to my room, stripped, and fell into bed next to
my own
ordnance
.
My official phone informed me that I had a text from Adelaide. “Mom is dying. They
all are. Maybe three more days, if we bleed the blood-servants dry. Please help
.
”
I texted back “OK. Two days. I’ll find something for her in two days.”
I hoped. I pulled a pillow over my head and was asleep instantly.
* * *
I woke with my hands pulling a weapon from a shoulder holster tangled on the bed.
There were people in my house and it sounded like they were tearing down the walls.
Then I remembered the two men I had let into my home the night before. Derek had vouched
for them, but . . . Really, could I get any more stupid?
I rose, brushed my teeth, swiped a hand along my braided hair in lieu of combing it
out and rebraiding it, and dressed in a pair of wrinkled cotton pants and a T-shirt.
I stuck three stakes in my hair and strapped a holstered .32 on my ankle—hopefully
overkill, but making up for possible stupidity earlier. I unlocked my bedroom door,
glad that I had at least turned the small thumb latch.
There were boiled eggs in a pot on the stove and I cracked and ate three for breakfast,
watching the current changes in my world. Alex had taken over my kitchen table with
his laptop and e-whatchamathingy tablets, the Seattle laptop, and my laptop. Cheeky
kid. I sniffed him as I passed and said, “Take a shower. You stink.” He grunted, which
was no surprise.
On a scratch piece of paper, I wrote out the names I wanted researched, starting with
Hieronymus, and ending with all of Derek Lee’s men, including the ten New Guys. “These
guys? Their names are on my laptop under a file named Derek Lee. Reach and I did deep
background on Derek’s Vodka Boys prior to the Asheville gig, and the new Tequila Boys
just last month. Maybe you can come up with something new.”
“Sure. Okay. Do I have to be legal?”
“Yes.” I slapped the back of his head. “Totally legal. You’re on parole, remember?
But you can be creative.” At which the kid grinned like I had offered him an “all
you can eat” dinner at a pizza joint. “Main thing I need first,” I said, “is for you
to find out where this Big H vamp is located and anything you can about his organization.
You can use the Internet, access my own files, and the files from the NOPD’s woo-woo
room.” I added a request for him to look over all building renovation permits requested
within fifty miles of New Orleans. After the events of yesterday, it was clear the
mystery master vamp was bringing his fight to Leo’s home turf. If a vamp was moving
in, he’d need real estate with vamp-requirements: steel-protected windows and reinforced
doors, a room with easy exit via a hidden passageway, and updated electronics. There
wasn’t time to build from the ground up, but I added a request for an expanded search,
starting over the last six months, for new buildings that might work for a vamp. I
tapped the table. “No huge hurry. Tomorrow would be nice.”
“Tomorrow?” His voice squeaked, that teenaged thing they do when their voices change
at puberty. He blushed, half in anger.
“Kidding. Just kidding. Start on Big H info and the backgrounds on Derek’s men first.
I need them by sunset. Two days will be fine for the permit stuff.” He shook his head
at me with something like a horrified exasperation. “Hey, I’m used to Reach’s timeliness,”
I said. “If you can’t cut it—”
“I can do it,” he said, sounding surly.
I turned away before he could see my amusement and went on into the living room. I
stopped in the middle of the room, bare feet on the cool hardwood floor, chewing egg,
and stared. There was a hole in the wall. It opened up under the stairs to reveal
a little room with a slanted ceiling and another hole in the floor. The room’s walls
were lined in stone—slate, maybe—and there was a bed with a lumpy mattress and tousled
sheets under the most sloped part of the ceiling. Across from the bed was a small
stand with a pitcher and bowl, a ewer, I guessed. There was very little dust and no
mold, which I thought was interesting, except for wallboard dust, which now was everywhere,
including on the man kneeling in the corner, holding a measuring tape. He was making
the safe room I’d asked for, but it looked like I had a hidden one already, one I
hadn’t known about.
Eli didn’t look around before he said, “You didn’t know this room was here?”
“I noticed the space my first night here, when I tore up the digital video equipment.”
I toed the broken electronics he had left in a pile. I thought about the lack of dust
and walked over to the sheets. Fingered them. Fancy sheets were something I had learned
about since coming to work for Leo. These weren’t rotten, limp, or even old; they
were
new
linens, 600 or better thread count, in a hidden room in my freebie house. I sniffed,
several short inhalations, and recognized Leo and Katie.
Well, crap.
Most vamps had several lairs, which explained why this hidey-hole room was so dust
free. One or the other—or both—had been sleeping here. Recently.