Killing Time (13 page)

At roughly the halfway mark, I left the interstate and rode a little distance down a narrow road to enter a forest. I was sure the place had a name, given the large brown sign outside the entrance, but couldn’t make sense of the squiggly lines. The dense trees and solitude were just what I needed after the jarring highway, bright headlights and my bike’s endless drone. With lights and engine off, I coasted deep into the woods and stopped. Removing my helmet, I tipped my head back, soaking in the quiet and the night’s cool, clean air.

Shaking myself, I slipped off the bike and stretched, grimacing at the stiff muscles and tugging off my gloves. It felt like my hands were shaped in a perpetual claw from grasping the grips. My stomach’s grumbling added to my list of complaints, so I found a handy log and sat down. Digging in my backpack, I pulled out a package of beef jerky and tore it open. My sharp teeth were more than equal to the task of eating the tough meat, although I couldn’t help but think how different this meal was from the one I’d shared with Koda.

Scowling at the jerky, I was about to shove it back into my bag when movement brought my head up. On a low tree limb just across from me sat an immense owl, easily two feet tall from the tip of its extravagant tail to its feather-tufted ears. Seeing me looking at it, the bird bobbed its head and chittered, like it was scolding me for some infraction.

“Did I ruin your hunt?” I asked, amused. Besides nature’s calming effect, the only other aspect of my heritage that I took pleasure in was that wild animals didn’t fear me. I enjoyed their company and it had become a habit to talk to the beasts I came across. None had ever answered, of course, although there was something about this owl that told me it could if it chose to. I couldn’t help grinning. “Is there a fat, juicy mouse who’ll live another day because I got in your way?”

The owl blinked its huge golden eyes and clacked its beak, making me laugh. Its gaze swung to the jerky in my hand and it gave an emphatic hoot as if it was making a point.

I shrugged. “You’re welcome to it.”

The bird flew silently down to perch on the log by my side, accepting the dried meat with great dignity. Pinning the jerky under a taloned foot, it tore off a piece. Throwing back its head, it swallowed, then fluffed its feathers and hissed at me.

“Tastes awful, doesn’t it?” I commented companionably.

The owl watched as I settled my back against a convenient trunk and crossed my arms over my chest. Dawn was still hours away, but I’d learned a hard lesson in my relentless drive for Dallas—I wouldn’t exhaust myself like that again, not unless I had no choice.

Besides, unlike the vampires I’d hoped to meet in Texas, my trip to Chicago wasn’t about forging alliances or obtaining information. I was going north for one purpose only—to track and kill Philippe. I’d need all my energy and focus to do so.

I idly studied the owl as it returned the favor. “I’m afraid I’m not much company tonight. I need to sleep.” Yawning, I closed my eyes and slouched more comfortably. My log perch wasn’t The Mansion’s extravagant bed, but I’d slept on worse.

My companion made a clucking noise and I lifted a sleepy eyelid to watch it fly into the tree above my head. For all appearances, the owl seemed to be taking up watch. Fluffing its feathers, its golden eyes regarded me and my initial instinct that this was no normal owl stirred again. As our gazes met, I heard the distant sound of drums, the pounding of dancing feet. When the bird blinked and looked away, the impressions faded.

“What would Koda make of you?” I wondered out loud.

The owl gave a low
hoot
.

“Enigmatic. Huh. He’d undoubtedly approve.” Yawning again, I closed my eyes. Although I was accustomed to being alone, there were times when loneliness wore at me. Having another living being close by was a comfort.

The last few hours before dawn passed in my usual half-awake doze—not allowing myself to drop my guard enough to sleep deeply was yet another reason why I’d survived so long. Even with its silent flight, I sensed when the owl left and I voiced a quiet thanks as it flew off through the trees.

Stirring, I stretched and sat up, only then noticing that my companion had left a present for me—a beautiful feather about eight inches in length. Grinning with genuine pleasure, I picked it up to admire its bold black stripes and taupe base color. With great care, I tucked the feather into my inside jacket pocket, hoping it would stay undamaged until I could think of a better way to carry it.

The sun’s rays were just tipping the trees overhead when I got on my bike and set off again. By this time tomorrow, if all went well, the first big hurdle in my plan would be behind me.

Philippe would be dead.

Once in Chicago, it was an easy thing to find the correct building. Locating a parking space for the Ninja was another thing entirely. How ironic to have such a ridiculous obstacle slow my hunt when it was just now getting started. Ironic and massively annoying.

At long last, motorcycle safely tucked away in a parking garage and my vexation mostly contained, I joined the throng of pedestrians flooding the sidewalks. Taking a moment to wonder where all the humans were going and with such mindless intensity, I let my gaze linger on the skyscraper where the studio was located. Without pausing, I moved with the crowd past its entrance, sensing all the while the hostile watchers placed in strategic windows high overhead and on three of the four street corners. I’d expected police to watch the place, but it was intriguing that not all of the eyes trained on the building were human.

I didn’t believe that Philippe would be in the studio’s vicinity, but it was my profound hope that he was more arrogant than he was cautious, since this would induce him to remain in Chicago rather than leave the city for safer climes. I’d hoped to catch traces of his trail, certain that he would have left a violent and angry energy wake I could follow. But there was nothing. Like he’d just disappeared from the studio after killing…

I stumbled and had to catch myself. What if Philippe hadn’t left the building on foot? What if he’d been shifted away? I already knew he was allied with Reiden. It didn’t take a genius to figure out that the vampire had other means of transportation available to him.

If I was right, I had no trail to follow. Philippe could, literally, be anywhere.

Cursing to myself but unwilling to give up just yet, I ducked into an alley a few blocks down, working my way back to the building. The only way to be sure he’d been shifted out was to get closer and see if I could sense any lingering fae presence. I hadn’t sensed one when I walked past, but I also hadn’t been looking for what would, by now, be very faint.

I’d just gotten to the right block when two humans climbed out of a plain car, slamming the doors before looking around with practiced eyes. The men were dressed in dark winter coats, unbuttoned and flapping in the cool wind. Both humans had on white dress shirts and jeans, but my eyes were drawn unwillingly to the vivid orange and yellow tie the shorter male wore. I wondered fleetingly if the guy was color blind, since one of his socks was navy, the other black—something I could see because his pants were too short.

A more salient point was that the humans’ mannerisms and wariness told me they were police. A complication I didn’t need right now.

Shading, I slipped closer, careful not to make any noise as I edged past the two men. I’d almost made it to a steel double-door set in a recessed alcove—probably where the building’s tenants accepted large deliveries—when I felt the shadows in the darkened alley coalesce into cold, oily shapes.

“Bodach,” I hissed, doubly irritated when the closer of the two cops stiffened and spun in my direction.

“You hear somethin’?” he asked the taller man.

“Yeah. I think it came from over there.” The guy gestured toward a door across from the studio’s building.

“The uniforms already checked the place out.”

“You got something better to do? We look again.”

I tensed as the two moved deeper into the alley’s shadows, which were almost pitch-black in places. A lone security light, high overhead, created a bright pool next to the door the police were headed for at what felt like the slowest pace a human could manage. As I watched, so, too, did the bodach—eager in their insatiable hunger.

Completely unaware they were being observed, the cops made it to the lighted doorway and I breathed with relief. Bodach could maintain their forms only in darkness, and because weak human eyes would never be able to make out the inky forms until the last possible moment, if the cops would stay to the lights—or just freaking
leave,
I grumbled to myself—I wouldn’t have to intercede to keep them from being slaughtered.

Four furry shapes detached themselves from behind a Dumpster to take refuge in the black shadows beneath the cops’ car. Drawing my daggers, I paced silently toward the humans, placing myself between them and the bodach lying in wait. The creatures remained hidden, like they were biding their time and so I stayed shaded—ready to attack if need be, but growing curious about the bodachs’ presence and their unusual patience. It was almost like they were scouting the building, much as I was. Maybe they were guarding Philippe’s backtrail?

Shattered glass crunching underfoot drew my attention back to the cops, who were staring at the broken chain and padlock that no longer secured the door. I was relieved to see that the men were holding flashlights and both beams were bright, like they had fresh batteries.

The shorter man squared his shoulders, but his face was pale. “Damn, Silva. Used to be, criminals was just punks. Sure, they did some lousy shit, but we busted ’em and that was that.”

Silva grunted in agreement. “Now we’re getting crazies thinking they’re the walking undead. Maybe it’s some new kind of drug, Benny. Something we haven’t heard of yet.”

“I dunno.”

Drawing his pistol, Silva eased the door open, grimacing at the squeal of rusty hinges. “If we find coffins in here, I’m handing in my gun and loading up with stakes.”

“And garlic,” his partner said. “Lotsa garlic.”

“The punk-ass killer said on the TV that garlic didn’t work.”

Benny snorted. “When’s the last time a criminal told the truth?”

Barking a laugh, Silva nodded. Shooting an uneasy sideways glance at the other cop, he grumbled, “So. You think there’s such a thing as vampires?”

“Hell no.” Running a trembling hand through his thinning hair, the shorter cop squinted up at the bare overhead security light. “You?”

Silva eyed the surrounding darkness. Swiping at his nose, he muttered, “Naw. Course not.”

Benny made a rude noise. “Yeah.” His tone was dry. “That’s what I thought.”

After the cops disappeared with their flashlights through the doorway, I waited for them to turn on the building’s inside lights. And waited. And waited. But when the opening stayed dark, the bodach left their place beneath the patrol car and padded after the humans, their two-inch claws clicking on the alley’s dirty pavement, making my skin crawl.

“Damn, damn, damn,” I growled to myself. The last thing I needed was to babysit humans—with their reliance on technology and their arrogant belief that they were at the top of the food chain, whatever pathetic instincts any of them possessed were so deadened as to be utterly useless. Leaving the cops utterly unaware they were about to become bodach chow.

Jogging now, I took off after the furry killers, thinking I’d destroy them quickly so I could get on with my plans. But when I entered the pitch-black hallway, there was no sign they’d even come this way. Cursing, I sprinted deeper into the building, mad as hell that I’d assumed the bodach would stalk the humans when, in fact, they’d simply shifted from the open doorway to wherever the cops were now.

The hall ended in a large storage room with pallets leaning in one corner and boxes stacked floor to ceiling the length of one long wall. In the center of the dark room were the four bodach, their eyeless faces trained on the two cops whose fear I could smell over the creatures’ stench. The cops knew something was in there with them, even as their frantically bobbing flashlights displayed nothing out of the ordinary—the bodach just faded when the beams hit them, their forms resolidifying when the light moved on.

Deciding I’d had enough, I flipped the switch on the wall and the overhead fluorescents hummed to stuttering life. The cops almost levitated with shock as they caught a glimpse of the bodachs’ wispy outlines before the flickering lights grew bright enough to banish the creatures completely.

“
Che cosa la scopata?
” Silva whispered in a language I didn’t know.

Before I could even think about answering, my senses shrieked an alarm as a vampire walked into the room.

The tall male’s feral presence filled the storage area so fully it took a second for me to notice the slender woman with him. As stunning as she was, I was astonished that she was merely human.

Flashing a badge, she snapped at the freaked-out officers. “I’m Deputy U.S. Marshal Nic Harfang.”

The taller cop swallowed visibly. “Chicago P.D. Detectives Tim deSilva and Ben Esposito.” Flicking a glance at the marshal’s companion, he asked, “Who’s he?”

The vampire swiveled his head to look the human in the eye, smiling coldly as the cop blanched and backed a step. “Siska.”

Benny ran a shaky hand across his damp forehead. “Good thing you hit the lights when you did. There was someth—”

“That wasn’t us. Your benefactor is still here, though.” All lean muscle and controlled grace, Siska stalked around the room, his senses acting like radar in the enclosed space, dancing across my awareness. I began to edge out into the hallway when the vampire called in a soft voice, “I suspect we are in Chicago for the same purpose, hunting the same quarry.”

I froze, indecisive.

He must’ve locked onto me because he pivoted toward the doorway, his eyes glittering, and it was then that I noticed he was Native American. “Koda sends his regards, Sephti.”

I hesitated a second before letting my form solidify, ignoring the cops’ gasps at my sudden appearance. “Somehow I doubt that’s what he said.”

Siska barked a laugh. “He was plenty mad when he called, asking if I’d seen you.”

Nic made an irritated noise. “If we’re done with introductions, could we get the hell out of here? Things to do? Vampire to kill?”

Silva shook his head in disbelief. “You believe that shit? That the perp’s a friggin’
vampire?
”

“A woman just materialized out of thin air, right in front of you. And have you already forgotten the things that followed you in here?”

Benny’s jaw jutted out stubbornly. “A trick of the eye.”

Nic’s black gaze bored into him. “Then how ’bout we turn off the lights?”

The cops started forward, panicked, as the marshal reached for the switch. “No!” Silva yelled.

Turning her back on them, she sneered, “We’re done here.”

Gesturing toward the door, Siska and Nic followed me out into the hall as we headed toward the alley.

“How’d you find me?” I asked.

“We had a clue, Sherlock,” Nic growled and I wondered what had her so pissed off. Or, hell, maybe she was always like this.

Siska gave her a quelling look before answering me. “Koda said you’re after Philippe, and the bastard was last seen in Chicago.”

Unease blurred my form as I put a little more distance between the odd pair and myself. “You were looking for me?”

Nic snorted. “Hardly. But it’s no surprise we crossed paths. We’re hunting Philippe and had the studio’s building staked out.”

“We saw the bodach and followed them inside before they could eat some of Chicago’s finest. Which was when I sensed your presence,” Siska finished. He stopped with his back to the cops’ car, and while he appeared calm, I could feel the tense way he scanned the night for threat. Even out here in the alley, the power humming through his tall frame lifted the fine hairs on my body.

The sound of running feet came from behind us, but I knew it was just the cops catching up. Before they could say anything, Nic told them, “Call it a night, boys. There are nasty things roaming the streets of Chicago.”

Silva shared a look with Benny, then shook his head. “I don’t know what it was in that room with us, but me and my partner got a job to do—”

“You’re not up to the task,” she snapped.

Bristling, Silva took an angry step toward me and rested his hand on the butt of his gun. “We found this woman trespassing right across the alley from a building where twenty-three people were butchered, including fifteen police officers. We’re taking her in so we can have a little talk. See what she knows.”

Benny drew his pistol, and although he kept the muzzle pointed down, his having armed himself roused my instincts. The cops’ aggressiveness and the weapons they seemed prepared to use raised my threat assessment of them from “harmless human” to “potential danger.” My hands went to my daggers’ hilts and I balanced on the balls of my feet, primed to attack.

Siska got between the men and me, keeping his hands out where I could see them. “Easy, Sephti.”

Nic swore at the cops. “Dumbasses, the both of you. Your so-called trespasser kept the bodach from making the death toll twenty-five.”

“Now listen up, little lady—” Benny blustered.

Siska laughed. “Oh yeah, that’ll work. She loves the ‘little lady’ crap.”

Silva gave the tall vampire a look that only cracked him up more. “You may be a U.S. marshal, but Chicago is our jurisdiction. Not yours.”

“
Deputy
marshal, which means I get to run around the country, busting bad guys and giving dipshits like you hemorrhoids,” Nic growled.

Benny’s gun came up, provoking my instinctual threat response. Panting against the rising rage, I half drew my daggers. A low warning growl rumbled in my chest and both cops’ eyes went round.

Siska sidled closer to me, freezing when my head swiveled toward him.

“That’s right, Sephti,” he murmured. “Keep looking at me. Let Nic handle the stupid humans.”

I worked to slow my breathing, clamping down hard on the mindless need to destroy the greatest danger—the armed cops. Normally, vampires are in a category all their own, but Siska was being very careful to keep his posture nonaggressive, his movements slow, his voice easy and soft.

Nic’s badge put her and Siska off-limits to the local police. Which, by the men’s plodding logic, left only me as a potential target. Someone they could grab hold of, handcuff and throw in the back of their car, drag downtown and interrogate so they could prove to themselves that they weren’t so helpless after all.

Silva took out his sidearm and held it muzzle-down, his eyes hard on me.

Baring my teeth, I drew my blades fully.

“Knives!” Benny yelled, cocking his pistol and taking aim.

“Put them on the ground! Now!” Silva bellowed, lifting his gun in a two-fisted stance.

Snarling, I took up the ready position and prepared to shade.

“Lower your weapons!” Nic roared, getting between the cops and me. “That’s an order!”

“Sephti,” Siska insisted, again moving to block my view of the men. “Look at me, Sephti.” His powerful will caressed my senses, softening the raw edges and asking for calm, for peace.

I curled my lip at him in warning. While I didn’t want to lose it, didn’t really want to kill the boneheaded humans, my instincts resented Siska’s effort to gentle them. If he tried to mentally push me, what I wanted and how I reacted would be two very disparate things. Nothing in my nature responded well to coercion or control.

From behind him, I heard Nic’s hard voice. “This woman is under my protection.”

Silva blustered, “She pulled two knives on police officers—”

“Did you badge her?” Nic challenged. “Did you identify yourselves?”

Siska’s eyes flashed with irritation. Without removing his gaze from me, he spoke in a strangely silken voice. “Officers, lower your sidearms.”

Although my view consisted only of Siska’s bulk from five feet away, I heard the sound of pistol hammers being eased down.

“About freaking time,” Nic muttered.

Rallying, Benny blustered, “You and your partner have no business comin’ here, orderin’ me and—”

Siska swore and half turned toward Nic, so I saw when she got in Benny’s face. “Before Philippe de Lénclos came to Chicago, he wiped out the seven deputy marshals who’d arrested him in Denver. We had APBs on him throughout the U.S. Want to tell me how it is the bastard made a spectacle of himself in Michigan Avenue’s finest clothing stores buying everything in sight, got himself on a national TV show and not one of you had a clue the FBI’s most-wanted fugitive was within a hundred miles?”

Benny slammed his pistol into its holster and exploded in disbelief, “You mean you people had the prick and you let him get away?”

Siska caught Nic’s fist inches from the cop’s face—if she’d made contact, I had no doubt she’d’ve shattered the guy’s jaw.

I eyed the slender woman with newfound respect. With her long black hair and dark slanted eyes, her full lips and graceful body, she was exotic beauty personified. That she could also kick serious ass made her someone worth knowing.

Power radiating from him, Siska focused on the two humans even as he kept his level gaze on Nic’s furious face, just inches from his own. His voice took on an added layer, like he was speaking at an octave just out of normal range and it vibrated across my senses in a strangely compelling way. “Gentlemen, you are finished here. You saw and spoke to no one and have nothing to report. You will return to your car and finish your shift elsewhere.”

As one, Silva and Benny pivoted, walked to their car and climbed in. Silva started its engine and the two drove off without a backward glance.

“Didja think about doing that from the beginning?” Nic groused at Siska. “Or were you enjoying the show too much?”

“I was a little occupied, keeping our new friend from going to DEFCON 1.”

I rolled my shoulders to release the tension and sheathed my daggers. Blowing out a breath of air, I made a face. “Whatever.”

“Whatever,” Nic echoed. “Siska, you might’ve told the one idiot to holster his gun first. When he shakes off your Jedi mind control, he just might shoot himself in the foot.”

Siska released her hand almost regretfully, like he’d enjoyed holding it. He gave me a sidelong look, his cheeks flushing to find me studying him. “How do you feel about an alliance, Sephti?”

I recognized the question for the diversion it was. Comprehension hit me and I figured out why Nic still had a pulse—the vampire had feelings for her. Feelings which she seemed oblivious to.

Seeing my sudden sympathy and understanding its source, Siska glowered.

Schooling my features, I nodded. “As long as we’re in agreement that Philippe dies. I don’t care how it’s done, only that he can’t heal from it and he stays dead.” I faced Nic. “There’s no capturing this guy for the humans’ pathetic form of justice.”

She bared her teeth at me. “Agreed. Just don’t get in my way when we find him.”

I shaded and moved at top speed behind her, reappearing long enough for her slower human senses to register my presence. After popping all around her several times, I returned to my original place and solidified. “If you think you can beat me to him, you’re welcome to the kill.” I smirked. “Otherwise,
you
stay out of
my
way, mortal.”

I was a little surprised that Siska hadn’t tried to curtail my display, but he remained still, a small smile lifting the corners of his mouth.

Nic glared at me, rage narrowing her eyes. Then, astonishingly, she laughed and clouted me on the shoulder. “You’re okay. For a whatever you are.”

Siska swiveled to stare at her like she’d grown a second head. “Who are you and what have you done with Nic?”

“Oh, shut up,” she said without heat. “Do you really think I’m arrogant enough to turn down whatever help we can get?”

“Umm.”

She shot him a look before turning to me, all business. “Before Tweedles Dumb and Dumber showed up, did you find any trace of Philippe we could track?”

I shook my head and told them my theory about his having been shifted away.

“Shifting doesn’t leave a trail?” Nic asked.

“It does, yes, but not one that I can follow. I can’t shift.”

“Well, hell. What good are you, then?” Her lips twitched a fraction of a fraction, taking the sting from her words. “It’s almost as irritating as having a supernatural tracker who can’t freaking track.”

Siska growled with genuine anger. “I told you. Something’s blocking me. Otherwise, we would’ve had the asshole long before now.”

Nic flushed as if she regretted needling him. She gave him a small nod. “Like the hundreds of others you’ve found.”

His expression eased. “Yeah. Like them.”

The two headed for the end of the alley, gesturing for me to go with them. Shrugging, I walked along next to Nic, still cautious about personal space although I was growing more comfortable with the strange pair.

“I remember catching sight of you in Dallas,” I said. Once the cops left and my instincts had relaxed, I realized I’d seen the marshal and vampire before.

Siska nodded. “Yeah. We were at Evie’s house. And I already know you want to talk to Jack. Koda told me.”

“Warned you, more like.” Nic tucked a loose strand of hair behind her ear. “I’d like to talk to Jack myself.”

Siska was already shaking his head. “Not with Kate going feral. No way.”

“Cue the caveman routine,” she said in a droll tone.

“I get keeping a human away from them,” I said, ignoring Nic’s scowl. “But I can shade.”

“For how long?” Siska cranked a haughty brow at me.

“Koda told you about my metabolism, didn’t he?” I swore.

“Yeah. Before you get all pissy, I’ve never heard him get so worked up about anyone. Not like he is about you.” Siska gave me an appraising look. “He’s gone through a lot. If I can spare him worrying about your well-being, then I’ll do it. So you’re not getting to Jack. Not with my help.”

“Even if it means Philippe—” I sputtered, furious.

Siska held up a hand. “I didn’t say we’d let the asshole go free. There are other ways to track him down.”

Nic came up on my other side, rigid with anger. “Like?”

Giving us a fanged smile, Siska growled, “Like catching the six vampires who’re following us and pounding the information out of them.”

“Pounding works,” I agreed, impressed that he’d not only noticed our shadows but knew how many there were and their species. I’d just caught the vaguest sense that we were being followed. And I’m good. Very good.

“We need to go someplace more private first,” Nic said. At my surprised look—a human intended to fight six immortals?—she reached inside her jacket to pat a matte-finish pistol. “Slayer bullets, specially designed for killing vampires.”