Killing Time

by Elisa Paige

  A shadow detached itself from the ornate gate of a cemetery just ahead and hurtled across the street. Two more raced to join it, and as our group closed with theirs, I dodged three more dark forms streaking across the pavement.

  “Sephti, look up,” Koda said, sprinting by my side.

  Overhead, at least four different species of raptors were wheeling into formations reminiscent of fighter jets on maneuvers. As I watched the growing phalanx of birds, I realized it was their shadows, cast by the bright full moon, that I’d dodged.

  “The city’s defenders are taking to the skies,” Koda said.

  “Birds? But they’ll be slaughtered.”

  “I already warned off the natural animals and most of them have fled the city. These are morphs. Shape-changers. That’s why their shadows have so much substance they fooled even your extraordinary senses.”

  Too flustered to react to the compliment, I kept the large raptors in sight as we sped down the street. A hawk near the front of the arrowhead-shaped formation shrieked and four birds peeled off, folding their wings and diving at incredible speed. A grove of trees blocked them from view just before a muffled curse turned into a scream. The profanity was in Fae and when the tortured sound abruptly cut off, I grinned savagely.

  We rounded a corner just in time to see four black horses tear into a pack of bodach, too late for the humans the creatures were feasting on. As black fur and the viscous crap that passes for bodach blood began to flow, the equines’ red eyes and carnivores’ teeth drew a curse from Koda. “What the hell are those things?”

  “Aughisky,” I said.

  As the bodach fell, child-sized forms bearing baseball bats, golf clubs and—absurdly—an ironing board, descended on them. Screeching all manner of obscenities, the wizened figures pounded and pummeled the furry shapes into squishy blobs.

  Before Koda could ask, I explained, “Tomte and domovoi guard hearth and home. And they take great exception to supernatural threats to either.”

  “I can see that,” he murmured, stunned.

  As we ran past, the lead aughisky lifted its head to watch us go. I called a warrior’s greeting to it and grinned as it arched its neck and growled a full-throated greeting back.

  Beneath the sirens’ wailing and the rolling bong-bong, bong-bong of church bells all over the city, a ghastly grating sound drew closer, punctuated by the fast, rhythmic clopping of hooves on pavement. Plunging toward the intersection ahead of us, a two-mule team fled, white-eyed with terror, from the burning carriage they were harnessed to. The back left wheel had shattered and it was the broken axle’s scraping across concrete that we’d heard as the animals struggled to drag the heavy, listing buggy. There was no sign of the driver or passengers—a good thing, since the entire thing was engulfed in flames.

  “Sephti, wait!” Koda tossed at me over his shoulder before splitting off and sprinting after the mules. From the back of the carriage a long garland of flowers trailed, along with an already smoldering sign. I couldn’t figure out why a bunch of shoes and cans had been tied to it. Just one more example of human strangeness.

  Pouring on speed, Koda suddenly appeared between the panicked animals, grabbing one’s bridle and dragging it to a stop. He caught the second one’s reins and held on, the muscles in his shoulders and chest swelling with the effort. But it worked—the huge mules couldn’t shake him loose.

  “Hurry!” he called to me. Keeping the plunging animals in place meant he couldn’t free them.

  Braying with fear, the mules thrashed and reared in their harnesses, rolling their eyes at the inferno directly behind them. I caught up then, drawing my daggers in one fluid move and slicing through the traces that bound the animals to the bonfire.

  “Let go!” I yelled to Koda, holding my breath as he leaped clear and the mules surged forward in their mad effort to escape.

  Resheathing my daggers, the sound of claws on metal spun me around to face one of the largest hunters in the supernatural world.

  A white hound stood on the hood of a minivan forty yards away, its red eyes tracking the escaping mules as its tongue lolled past its gleaming teeth. It growled at us, but its heart wasn’t in it—just the usual predator-to-predator warning.

  “Cu sith. A free one,” I told Koda, releasing the breath I’d been holding. I didn’t want to get tangled up in a fight when the real battle still lay ahead at Philippe’s. Like the bodach, the hounds tended to leave bitterns alone. Those enslaved by the Hunt were another thing entirely.

  “Have all the European supernaturals invaded this continent?” Koda ranted.

  I gave him a sympathetic look.

  With a snarl, the hound leaped off the hood onto the back of what looked like a Doberman-sized rat, except it was covered in feathers and had a snake’s tail. Menace poured off the thing in waves, setting off my instincts and marking it as a definite threat.

  “What the hell?” I gasped, hands going to my daggers’ hilts.

  “That one’s a native.” When the cu sith ripped the nasty creature’s head off, Koda’s eyes lit with pleasure. “It’s a colocolo.”

  “That’s what Ahanu called me?” My voice climbed an octave in outrage. “That ugly thing?”

  Koda was saved from answering by a fleet of police cars screaming down the street parallel to the one we were running along. A second later, a helicopter roared by, its rhythmic whup whup whup temporarily blocking the still-shrieking tornado sirens’ monotonous wailing.

  “We have to hurry!” I called, pouring on the speed.

  Three blocks and a right turn later, we arrived at what had to be Philippe’s mansion. My first clue being the dead vampires, bodachs and humans littering the grounds. But as many corpses as there were, at least three times that number of beings was locked in battle. The cacophony of roars, shrieks, snarls and cracks of automatic weapons was brutal on my hyper-acute senses and I had to quell the urge to cover my ears with both hands.

  Police had formed a barricade all around the block, the whirling red-and-blue dome lights splashing color on the darkened mansions up and down the street. Somewhere, someone bellowed an order through a megaphone, but his voice was so distorted by terror, I didn’t have a clue what he said.

  A pained cry drew my attention to the mansion’s broad front yard and a knot of humans holding off four bodach. Cops and gang members fought side by side, their common supernatural enemies making them unlikely allies. As I watched, a gangbanger went down beneath a furry body. The closest officer shot the ravening bodach point-blank in the back of its skull, but the man beneath it was already a skeleton, his flesh melting from the creature’s venom-laced talons.

  Trying to make sense of the insanity and how we could help, Koda and I stood frozen. The bitterns trembled with the need to fight, but so far their bindings were still holding off the frenzy. A good thing, too, since this let me focus on keeping myself under control.

  My overworked senses flared a warning as power was expended somewhere nearby, then the north wing of Philippe’s mansion burst into flames. The fire grew at an impossibly fast pace, its pale-blue tinge indicating it had been set by a Fire Kith.

  “What the hell?” I whispered. It was fast becoming tonight’s mantra.

  Dumbfounded, Koda just shook his head. “Is it possible there’s a fae faction that also resists Reiden?”

  “It’s too much to hope for.” I wiped the sweat from my forehead. “And even if there was, never assume that would make them our allies.”

  He gave me a duh look. “I know better. But I like the idea that Reiden might be under siege from all sides.” Koda didn’t say the rest, but it was there in his eyes—that maybe somebody else would get to the king first. Which would preempt my trying to do so.

  A squad of black-armored SWAT formed up and stormed the sidewalk leading to the mansion’s immense front porch. They’d almost made it when more than twenty bodach burst from cover and converged on the humans, easily shredding their Kevlar to get at the tender skin underne
ath. In an appallingly brief span of seconds, it was over. Shredded uniforms draped disintegrating flesh to reveal stark, white bone through the rends and tears.

  A slim figure whose dark-purple flak jacket bore the insignia of crossed golden daggers bellowed her rage. Snapping rapid-fire commands into a walkie-talkie she held by her mouth, she charged, firing a handgun point-blank into the feasting bodach. Instantly, half a dozen figures joined her.

  “Slayers,” Koda murmured.

  In seconds, the tide of battle had changed for the furry creatures and it looked like this new group of humans would prevail. Then the sense of incredibly fast motion brought my head whipping around as two vampires tore through the purple-clad mortals, leaving torn throats and gaping corpses in their wake.

  “This is not looking good for our side,” I muttered.

  Up and down the street, vampires were locked in battle, snarling and snapping at one another. It was impossible to tell who fought for Philippe and who opposed him, which made their having to dodge slayer bullets and crossbow bolts all the more harrowing. When the brunette fell with a hole where her heart once was, had we just lost an enemy? Or a potential ally? When, moments later, a dreadlocked male dropped, should we have cursed…or shouted with joy?

  So great was the battling vampires’ strength, so titanic their struggles, their high-speed fights left incredible destruction in their wake. Wrought-iron fences lay twisted and flat on the ground, a fire hydrant spewed a geyser of water, parked cars were overturned and partially crushed, their alarms adding to the hellish cacophony.

  Suddenly, four vampires appeared out of nowhere and charged the mansion. Even from a distance, their immense power slammed into my senses like a high-voltage charge. Blinking in astonishment, I met Koda’s wide gaze. I had only limited experience with immortals, but never had I felt such incalculable strength. Judging by Koda’s expression, neither had he.

  One of the vampires, a red-haired female with Celtic tattoos around her throat and on her biceps, smashed through the mansion’s heavy oak front door like she was brushing aside tissue paper. As the four disappeared inside, I figured the real action was about to begin and took off after the vampires. So eager was I in my charge, I forgot about the ongoing battle, barely avoiding catching a crossbow bolt through the chest—the damn slayers were trying to kill anything that moved and wasn’t wearing a uniform. As we ran, Koda scooped a rifle off the ground, no doubt deciding it would be more use to him than it’d been to the dead slayer who’d dropped it.

  I grabbed Koda’s hand and shaded, barking at the bitterns to protect themselves, and we made it onto the porch unperforated. Seeing bullets and bolts zip through your body, even when it’s insubstantial, is still a disturbing visual and not one I cared to repeat. Judging by the tightness around Koda’s eyes and the near-panic I sensed from the bitterns, they all shared my fervent opinion.

  Crossing the enormous threshold, I was just beginning to wonder how we’d find Philippe in such a vast place, when the answer presented itself. Frozen in an odd tableau was the vampire himself, held pinned to the floor by three of his kind. The red-haired female stood over him, wiping her blood-stained mouth with the back of one hand.

  The defeated Philippe had his head thrown back, revealing the gaping bite-sized wound in his throat that was healing as I watched. It took me a second to process the sounds he was making, though, they were so at odds with his current situation.

  The madman was howling with laughter.

  Signaling to the bitterns to stay shaded and keep quiet, I shared an uneasy look with Koda.

  When the paroxysms finally faded enough for speech, Philippe spluttered, “Siobhan, you truly kicked my ass. Well done! I never dreamed the Ancients would send you after me when I threw down my televised gauntlet.”

  Standing over him, the redhead’s pretty face was contorted by contempt. Her Irish lilt added a musical component to her angry words. “I believe you said ‘there is no fucking you, there is only me.’”

  “You Ancients never did have any flair.” If having his arms and legs spread by Siobhan’s companions to their most extreme positions was the least bit uncomfortable, he gave no sign of it. “I’ve always thought you were lovely, you know. Why don’t we be friends? The kind with fringe bene—”

  With no warning, the female kicked Philippe in the mouth, effectively silencing him. “Pretty enough you are, but I don’t do loonies. And Philippe, m’dear, you’re off-the-feckin’ wall insane.”

  Spitting blood, he cackled, “You may be right. I may be crazy. But it just may be a lunatic you’re looking for.”

  “Billy Joel lyrics? Really?” Growling a command to the vampires restraining Philippe, she watched as they got the laughing immortal to his feet. She snapped a round-house kick to his belly, smiling unpleasantly when he sagged against the hard hands holding him.

  “Temper, temper,” he wheezed, head hanging. “Ow, by the way.”

  Grabbing a handful of his chin-length chestnut hair, she cranked his head back to look at her. “Philippe de Lénclos, by order of the Ancients, I charge you with the highest treason. For violation of every single one of our edicts, for exposing our kind to the public, for violating our thousand-year treaty with the Church, for setting their slayers on our own brethren—”

  “And a partridge in a pear tree,” he sang, grinning hugely.

  She smashed her fist across his face, the sharp crack reverberating through the immense foyer.

  Drooling blood even as his shattered jaw reshaped itself and healed, he said in a stage whisper, “It breaks my heart into a billion ice-cold pieces, hearing you talk like the other Ancients. You’re better than that.”

  “Pray to whatever demon you worship that Abasi can figure out how to put a stop to the carnage. ’Tis the best you can hope for. It’ll mean the difference between an eternity of suffering before he rips out your heart or just a couple hundred years.”

  “O Abasi, O Great One, Oldest of All Vampires! Think if I kiss his uptight ass he’ll…” Philippe tilted his head as if considering the options. “On second thought, it is Abasi we’re talking about.”

  “You are the worst kind of fool.”

  Philippe spat a wad of bloody phlegm on the white marble floor. Wiggling his healed jaw back and forth, he grinned broadly. “Know this, Siobhan and tell it to your puppet masters. No matter what any of you do, no matter what ridiculous lengths you go to, no matter how many new treaties you try to negotiate, my goals have already been fulfilled.”

  Quivering with rage, she smashed her fist into his face again, re-breaking his jaw. “Explain!”

  It seemed the harder she hit him, the wilder his laughter. “All you had to do was ask!” He gave her a seductive, smoldering look. His words started out slurred but became clear as his incredible vampiric ability to heal mended splintered bone. “Consider my television premiere. It lasted, what? All of ten minutes? Then consider what our brethren have accomplished since. What they are, in fact, doing tonight in cities all across America.”

  Koda wrapped his arm around my waist as I went rigid with horror—New Orleans wasn’t the only city under siege? Looking up at him, I scowled when he held a finger to his lips. Seriously? He thought I would give away our presence? Which one of us was the skilled assassin, anyway?

  Seeing my expression, he flashed a quick smile, but his eyes remained haunted.

  Her Irish lilt thickening, Siobhan snarled at Philippe, “Ye blithering eejit! Ye’ve brought destruction to our kind and to the mortals, as well. Worse, ye allied wi’ that bastard Reiden and gave him a toehold on the mortal plane! Which is also our plane, ye Bombay shitehawk! Will ye no’ be satisfied ’til ye’ve destroyed us all? Can ye not see that the fae want vampires killin’ each other? They want the slayers after us, too! And if the humans’ military forces take an active role which—after tonight—they most certainly will, what d’ye suppose will be the result? Open warfare between vampires and humans! Which also suits Reiden’s purposes.
It’ll cull millions of mortals, all across the planet. Mortals who not only nourish our kind, but by sheer dent of their numbers, hold the fae at bay! How could ye not have thought about any of this? Are ye truly that daft?”

  For the briefest second, a look of uncertainty flared in Philippe’s eyes.

  She made a sharp noise in disbelief. “Reiden has only to remain on his own plane, untouchable since we canna shift, and wait for us all to kill each other. When the earth is saturated with both mortal and immortal blood, there’ll be no one left to oppose the clatty bastard.” The expression on Siobhan’s face chilled my blood, since it was the first time I’d ever seen a vampire look genuinely terrified. “Ye’ve been most masterfully manipulated, Philippe. And ye’ve killed us all, along w’ yerself. Ye just do no’ know it yet.”

  This seemed as good a time as any to make my presence known. I released Koda’s hand and unshaded, stepping forward a few feet. This left the two of us visible while the bitterns remained hidden. Smiling my most winning smile, I held my hands loose by my sides. “There may still be a chance to head off the worst of it. I have a proposition—”

  Okay, so surprising a roomful of agitated vampires probably wasn’t the smartest thing I’d ever done, judging by how swiftly one of the males went for my throat. To my dismay, this left only two immortals holding Philippe. Given how slippery the bastard had proven time and again to be, I’d’ve felt better if he’d been at the bottom of a vampire scrum.

  The redhead snarled at Koda as she gathered herself to leap. He snarled back and shouldered the slayer’s rifle. The unmistakable click of the safety being thumbed off froze the vampire’s attack midstep. “I wouldn’t,” Koda said, his voice mostly growl.

  Trying to hurry things along and hoping to make the point that I could stand here all night—which, of course, I couldn’t but they didn’t need to know that—I allowed my outline to remain visible as the enraged vampire lunged and struck and snapped his long fangs through my misty form.