Blood Song

“I did not say that.” Matteo had paled and started trembling. “And don’t you say it, either. We can’t afford for word to get out. It’d start a panic.”



“Oh, shit. Should you even be here?” Bruno’s voice was a little breathy. Evidently I wasn’t the only one who remembered my studies.



Matteo closed his eyes and sighed. “I’m supposed to be on medical leave. I’m not allowed to help with the other problem, so I might as well be here.”



I hadn’t seen any injuries, but if he was hurt enough that they weren’t letting him on the demon hunt, he was probably too hurt to be doing this. I opened my mouth to say just that, but a look from Bruno silenced me.



Ah, male pride—or maybe just DeLuca pride. Matteo couldn’t be in on the big demon hunt, but he needed to do something. So we were giving him the next best thing, an übervamp. If things went according to plan, we should be able to take her down without anyone getting hurt. Of course, how often do things actually go according to plan?



I squashed that thought like a roach. It was as good a plan as we could make. We were well armed. Matteo was the weaker of the two brothers when it came to magic, so he reactivated the outer ring of defenses. It takes less power to recharge something that’s already established than to set up something new. Bruno would have the harder job, but I didn’t doubt he was up to it. I was just there to play trigger woman.



If the authorities showed up they’d do the dirty work for me, but I didn’t think they’d be here. I’d done my civic duty and called in to get the kill sanctioned, but the police forces were stretched pretty damned thin this week. Anaheim was hosting the World Series for at least two games—night games. All hands had to be on deck, particularly with the militant priestly orders otherwise occupied. Then again, maybe that was why the demons and bats were moving now. They might be evil, but they weren’t stupid.



Matty walked the ring using holy water. I felt the hum of magic vibrate through the ground at my feet. It raised the hairs all over my body, and I wondered if it was too much. If I could sense it, maybe she would, too. If she did, she wouldn’t cross the line and get caught in our trap. I opened my mouth to say as much, but the magic eased back down before I could get a word out.



Shaking my head, I went back to examining my weapons. Nothing had changed since I’d checked them earlier, but I needed reassurance. I find the razor’s edge of a knife and the smell of gun oil comforting. So sue me.



An old beater of a Chevy pulled into the parking lot and the teenage clerk climbed out. He was in his uniform, ready to go on shift. He noticed me and gave me a smile and wave as he hurried into the building.



That was creepy. I mean, I knew he didn’t remember being bespelled. But I did.



The sun sank farther in the west and the automatic lights flicked on, illuminating everything with flat orange light that made the shadows seem all the darker. Day transitioned into night with little fanfare. Cars drove by on the main road, radios blasting. When the light turned red, mariachi horns competed with the thumping bass of hip-hop. I was hunched down in the seat of Matty’s rental sedan, waiting out of sight, alternately hoping and worrying that I had been wrong, that she wouldn’t show up. I didn’t know where Matty and Bruno were hiding.



Time dragged. My back started spasming in protest at the unnatural position I was in. The discomfort was such that I was almost tempted to get out of the car and stretch. I might have, if I hadn’t heard the purr of a car engine pulling slowly into the shadowed parking lot a short distance away. I heard the soft whump of a car door closing and the unmistakable crunch and click of high heels on rock-strewn asphalt.



And then I felt her, like the faintest hint of a breeze across sweat-soaked skin: power, soft as a lover’s whisper, calling. It was seductive, irresistible. Right then and there I thanked God that she wasn’t calling me. Because I would’ve gone, gone with a smile on my face and a song in my heart. I’d have gone rushing headlong, gladly, to the arms of death. She was that good.



I heard the automatic door of the store whoosh open, heard voices calling out in protest. And still I waited. Hurry up, guys. We’re running out of time here.



Almost as if they heard my thoughts I felt the surge of energy as strong walls of power snapped into place.



Time to roll.



I rose and climbed from the car, pulling my gun and flipping off the safety as I did. I wasn’t moving fast. I didn’t want to take any chances.



She heard me coming and turned, hissing, flashing ivory fangs; the skin of her face was stretched taut over her skull in a way that bore no resemblance to humanity. Her skin glowed, creating its own light, so that I could see my target with utter clarity.



I heard the kid shout and run for the door of the store, her spell over him broken by her distraction. Setting myself into a classic shooter’s stance, I very deliberately fired two shots at her chest. After the first shot, blood and skin exploded backward to run down the thickened air that formed the wall behind her.



The second shot missed the vampire, embedding itself in a newspaper rack. By then she was moving, racing between the two rings of power, trailing gouts of blood as the arteries pumping into her shattered heart hosed their contents into the night. She was searching for a weakness in either wall, an escape, but Matteo and Bruno had done their jobs too well.



She screamed, an unearthly sound of rage combined with raw magical power that nearly deafened me.



In my peripheral vision I saw the boys step out of their hiding spots. Bruno aimed the gun I’d loaned him. Matteo was armed with something just as deadly to a bat—one of the oversized water guns, filled with what had to be holy water.



He opened fire, aiming not at her neck or heart but across her legs in a steady stream. It wasn’t enough to cut off her legs, but it dropped her to the ground in screeching agony, giving me a chance to fire again into a chest that had already almost healed.



I was nearly deaf at this point, and felt fluid running down my neck. Whether it was sweat or my ears were bleeding I didn’t know or care. I dropped to one knee, braced my elbow against the concrete base of a light pole, and aimed for her neck, hoping to sever her spine and cut off her head, putting an end to this. I was concentrating hard, looking for the right opening, which is my only excuse.



I didn’t hear it coming, didn’t see the car until it slammed into Matteo, sending him flying across the line of protection to lie, crumpled and bloody, beside the vampire. She howled in triumphant rage, grabbing him and pulling him into her lap to use his body as a shield. Despite what had to be hideous injuries, he struggled until she forced his gaze to meet hers. I watched furious resolve melt into a passive smile that was horribly, disturbingly, vacant.



I aimed for the eye that peeked over the top of Matty’s head but was distracted by a blur of movement in my peripheral vision. It was moving too fast to be anything human, so I pulled the trigger as I turned. Blood and worse blossomed from the vampire’s back as the bullets tore into his chest. He grunted with pain, but momentum carried him into me, slamming me against the concrete with a vicious impact that sent the gun spinning from my hand.



That he was stunned was the only thing that saved me. Fighting with abnormal strength and utter desperation, I managed to get out from under him. As I crab-crawled awkwardly away, Bruno fired one shot after another. The shots tore through the creature’s neck, severing the head. It was messy but effective. Blood splattered and pooled around him, but his chest stopped moving and his eyes stared vacantly upward.



My ears were still ringing, my right arm was numb. But I grabbed the gun with my left hand and scooted over until my back was braced by the base of the streetlight. I felt blood soaking into my trousers, but it didn’t matter. What mattered was killing her. I raised my knees, propping my arms on them so that my aim was nice and steady.



She spoke.



I didn’t so much hear it as feel it vibrating through me, as if my body were a tuning fork struck by her words.



“I could take him now, make him one of us.” She stroked a manicured finger along Matteo’s neck. He settled against her with a sigh of contentment. Apparently he was beyond pain, beyond thought. I shuddered. She saw it and laughed, a cold, bitter sound that scraped across my raw nerves. “His memory of his family, his God, everything he was, gone, just like that.” She snapped her fingers.



She was toying with us. Trapped and injured, she still acted like she had the upper hand. I glanced at Bruno and realized she did. Matteo would have told us to kill her, would’ve sacrificed himself. But he was Bruno’s brother. Bruno would rather die himself than let Matty die, and if she made him a vamp, we’d have to kill him. The bitch knew it.



“I offer you a deal.” She looked at me when she said it, as if Bruno were beneath her notice. “You let me go—I let him go. For now.” She glanced over at the corpse of her companion and glared back at me. I could almost feel the heat of her hatred burning my skin. “But it isn’t over between us.”



“No. It isn’t,” Bruno answered her. She turned her gaze to him, watching avidly as with a word and gesture he lowered the outer wall of power that kept her trapped. She flung Matteo away from her, his body hitting the pavement with a wet thud. In a blur of speed, she was gone.



I crawled to the fallen priest as fast as I could manage. I didn’t holster my gun. I hadn’t missed the “for now” part of the deal, and I wouldn’t put it past her to come straight back. Yes, she was injured, but to my mind that only made her more deadly. Because she was pissed. Too, there was always Edgar. He’d been with the two of them before. Was he hanging around in the shadows, waiting for his chance? I didn’t feel him out there, but that didn’t seem to mean a thing. Bruno held Matteo’s body draped over his lap. Tears were streaming down his face. I knew Matty wasn’t dead. I could hear the breath rasping in and out of his chest. There were red bubbles at the corner of his lips. He had a punctured lung and God alone knew what else. I fumbled in my jacket pocket and pulled out my replacement cell phone. I dialed 9-1-1 with trembling fingers, explaining to the dispatcher what we needed as I propped the little phone between my ear and shoulder and set the gun on the ground within reach so that my hands would be free.