by Tina Folsom
“A dozen vampires?” Haven asked.
“Oh, shit—we’re so fucked!” Wesley commented.
“Just do what Yvette said, and stay close.”
“Easy for you to say!”
“You know what, Wesley? Sometimes you really try my patience. And this is one of those times.”
A sound from the outside made Yvette turn her attention back to the window. As she focused her senses, she picked up a sensation she was familiar with. It was the same sensation she felt whenever a dog was near, almost as if she could tune into its thoughts, just like she could virtually feel what her own dog was feeling. Her dog—how strange that sounded. But now that she was separated from it, she missed the annoying stray. Yet, she knew it wasn’t her own dog out there, it was something smaller, a different breed. And that dog was approaching the building, a tall man by its side.
***
The dog trotted obediently next to him. Zane had never fancied himself to be a pet lover, but considering that they needed the animal to get the potion past the wards, he’d volunteered to guide the dog into the building, still doubtful their plan would work.
Something stank, and it wasn’t just the witch’s smell that permeated through the building, Zane thought as he reached the door and pushed it open. Why had Haven not attacked yet? By now he surely knew that an army of vampires was surrounding him. Or had he taken the coward’s way out and fled already? But then, would the wards still be in place if the witch was gone? Shit, he hadn’t asked Francine about that little detail.
Zane walked through the stale air in the corridor, the trusting dog waddling by his side as if he was its owner. He let his nose guide him toward where the witch’s smell was the strongest and entered a large room. His eyes scanned the darkness: odd pieces of furniture, some rugs on the concrete floor, book cases stuffed with odds and ends. Frilly and feminine, not the way Haven’s place in the city had looked.
A sense of unease rolled over his back and made the little hairs on his nape stand up. He stopped in his tracks, the dog mimicking his movements without making a sound. Smart animal.
Zane inhaled deeply. The scent was clearly witch, yet it was very different from the scent at Haven’s apartment, where everything had smelled entirely human. And he was never wrong when it came to scents. Reminding himself of the smell in Haven’s apartment, he tried to mutate the smell in his mind with the smell of witch, which added a certain sweetness to any human’s scent. But the mix his brain came up with wasn’t what he scented in this room.
They were so screwed.
Haven wasn’t the only witch in the place. That much was clear. They had to fight not just him, but at least one other. Had the brother that Francine had mentioned joined Haven’s fight? Zane had to assume as much.
He dug his hand into his leather jacket and pulled out his cell, pressing speed dial as he flipped it open. The moment the call connected, the cell flew from his hands, ripped from him by an invisible force.
Zane spun on his heels, but there was nobody. The dog whimpered.
“Fuck!”
“Zane?” The faint sound of Gabriel’s voice came from the cell phone on the floor.
Zane dove for it, but a blast of energy whipped him back and flung him against a book case. The dog barked loudly.
“Gabriel!” Zane shouted, hoping the cell would pick up his voice for his boss to hear. “There’s more than one witch!”
The dog’s barking drowned out any reply Gabriel might have had for him.
Zane picked himself up. Closing his eyes for a moment, he focused all his energy on his sense of smell, then turned into the direction where it was strongest. Opening his eyes, his night vision picked up a movement. He reached for his gun, pulling it out of the holster so fast, no human would have even seen the movement.
He aimed at the shadow and squeezed his trigger finger before the weapon fell from his hand. His flesh was hot, and had he been human, third-degree burns would have already formed on his palm. The gun had turned red-hot within a split-second. Fucking witches!
Zane reached for a throwing star in his pocket and, ignoring the now searing-hot metal of the lethal weapon, threw it. A second later, a blast accompanied by a lightning strike hit him in the gut and catapulted him back, slamming him against a door between the book shelves. Wood splintered.
The dog jumped in front of him, barking loudly at the person who’d attacked him. At the same time, Zane heard footsteps from the outside. His colleagues were descending on the warehouse.
“Come here, dog!” he ordered, hoping the beast would obey. He needed the vial around its neck to immobilize the witch who was attacking him—and this witch wasn’t Haven. It was a female; he could smell it. What he would do to eliminate Haven once he’d used the vial on this witch, he wasn’t sure yet. But first things first.
The dog jumped away, clearly frightened by the commotion. “Fuck!” Zane cursed and reached for another throwing star to distract the witch who, despite his night vision, he couldn’t make out clearly.
“Zane?” he heard a faint voice through the door whose wood he’d splintered by crashing against it.
Relief flooded through him. At least she was alive. “Yvette, we’re coming for you.” He pushed his entire weight against the door and broke it, yet he didn’t fall. Some invisible force was denying him entry into the room despite the now open door. He realized that this was the ward Francine had spoken of.
Zane had no time to peer into the room to find out what condition Yvette and her charge were in, because another lightning bolt charged toward him. Alerted by the dog’s bark, Zane lunged to the side and saw it bounce off the ward surrounding the captives’ room.
It appeared not even the witch’s own weapon could penetrate the ward, which told him that at least Yvette and Kimberly were safe for now.
Rolling to the side, he lunged for the dog, trying to grab it by its collar. As he reached it and pulled the beast closer to him, a bolt of energy hit him in the side, slicing through his jacket and shirt, burning through his flesh. He cried out in agony and involuntarily released the dog. It scampered away from him, now clearly frightened of him too.
When he made another attempt at catching the dog, it ran full speed into the other room, right through the ward as if it didn’t exist. Shit!
“The vial!” he yelled. “Yvette, take out the witch with the vial on the dog’s collar.”
It was all the instructions he could shout to her before another attack hit his leg and made him tumble. As he fell, the vibrations on the concrete floor announced the arrival of his brethren, as they rushed through the corridor.
Sliding his hand into his pocket once more, he gripped his knife and aimed.
Twenty-Two
Through the open door, Yvette saw Zane tumble to the floor just as a poodle slammed into her at full-doggie speed and nearly knocked her off balance. Had Haven not been standing behind her and caught her, she would have landed on her ass.
Yvette bent down to the frightened animal and hugged her arms around it. The dog instantly licked her neck and shoulders. “Easy, boy,” she calmed him. “You’re safe in here.”
Her hands searched the dog’s neck, trying to figure out what Zane had been trying to tell her. She felt a small, oblong glass object which hung on a ribbon off the dog’s collar. A colored liquid sloshed inside. Putting two and two together, Yvette realized that Francine must have brewed some sort of potion to help them defeat the witch.
Flashes of light came from the other room, temporarily illuminating her prison as the fighting continued.
Her hand closed over the delicate object, but before she could pull it off the dog’s collar, a large hand wrapped around her wrist and immobilized her hand.
“No!” Haven hissed. “Don’t touch it.”
She twisted her hand out of his grip and tried to push him back, but he locked his other arm around her waist and jerked her back. “We can take out the witch with it!” She reached for the dog agai
n, but this time Haven wrestled her to the ground, making the dog shrink away from them.
“What the fuck are you doing?” she yelled at him.
With his face only inches from hers and his jaw clenched from the effort of holding her down, he finally responded, “What if it kills us too?”
For an instant, her heart stopped.
“If it’s meant to kill a witch, it’ll kill me and Wesley.” He paused. “And Kimberly. Is that what you want?” His eyes bored into her. “Maybe you don’t care much about me or Wesley, but I thought you swore to protect Kimberly. Was that all a lie?”
Yvette closed her eyes for a moment. God, she hadn’t been thinking. He was right. If she unleashed whatever was in the vial, she could involuntarily harm the three siblings. The risk was too great.
She stopped pushing against him and allowed her body to go slack, showing him that he didn’t need to fight her anymore. “Thanks,” she whispered. “I wasn’t thinking.”
Haven nodded and released her, lending her a hand to get up. “And besides, how are you gonna get it through the ward anyway?”
A flash of light suddenly shone into their prison as if somebody had positioned a car or truck outside so its headlights shone through the window. It threw the room into different shadows.
Yvette looked down at the dog that now stood near the door, its head tilted as if listening to their conversation, when realization hit her. “The dog got through the ward.”
Haven’s head snapped to the animal. “Shit, how did it do that?”
“Come here, dog,” Yvette cooed and crouched down. The animal approached. With her mind she reached out to it, feeling its fear and confusion almost as intensely as if she was inside its body.
In her mind, she formed words her lips didn’t utter, words only meant for the dog.
Don’t fear me; I’m your friend.
The dog moved its paws and came closer. When it stopped before her, she stroked her hands over its fur and buried her face it its neck. The dog licked her.
Good boy. Now you have to help me with something.
The dog pulled away and turned its face up to her as if waiting for instructions.
“What are you doing?” Haven asked behind her.
Yvette turned toward him. “If I can’t get the vial out there to kill the witch, the dog will have to do it.”
“Didn’t I just explain to you that you can’t risk that?”
“We’ll be protected through the ward. Look!” She pointed toward the door where lightning bolts still bounced off the invisible shield around the room. “Not even her own weapons can make it through. As long as whatever is in the vial is unleashed outside of these wards, you, Wesley, and Kimberly are safe.”
A sign of unease skidded over his features as he clearly contemplated her words. “Are you sure?”
Was she? Was she really one hundred percent sure that it wouldn’t harm any of them? A cold shiver ran down her spine at the thought that she could be wrong, that maybe the potion Francine had brewed was stronger than that and could penetrate the wards nevertheless. But what other choice did they have?
Looking out into the other room, she noticed the fighting continue. Only three other vampires besides Zane had crowded into the room. The others seemed to be prevented from entering through the door on the other side. Somehow the witch seemed to have erected another force field. Yvette wondered how long the witch’s powers would last if she had to keep both the ward around the room and the force field intact while fighting three vampires plus the injured Zane.
Yvette turned back to the dog and petted its fur before putting her hand under its snout to make it look at her.
Go back out there. Take the vial back to Zane.
The dog’s round eyes stared at her as she felt its fear increase. It glanced to the door, then back at her. The dog understood her, but its body went rigid as it dug in its heels, the fear too great for it to follow her command.
Please. You can do it. Nobody will hurt you.
A soft whine was the dog’s answer.
“Yvette.” Haven’s voice made her look up. She’d forgotten he was still waiting for an answer from her.
“I’m sure. If I can get the dog to take it back out through the ward, my friends can use it to defeat the witch.”
Haven shook his head. “What makes you think the dog will do what you say?”
“It will. I just know it.”
Won’t you?
She looked back at the dog whose intelligent eyes were bouncing between her and Haven.
Please help us. Take the vial to Zane. Go.
A moment later, the animal turned away from her and looked at the open doorway. When it looked back over its shoulder, Yvette simply nodded, feeling the beast’s fear dissipate. From the corner of her eye, she noticed Haven stare at her, his mouth dropping open as he watched the dog approach the open door.
“How did you do that?”
“I talked to it.”
“You didn’t say a word.”
“It heard me anyway.”
She watched as the dog paused at the door and peered outside into the chaos. The witch fended off her attackers with bolt after lightning bolt, but Yvette noticed how the bolts seemed to become shorter and less luminous, as if they carried less energy. Was she already weakening? Gabriel and two other vampires were fighting against her with throwing stars, sticks, and knives. Their handguns were nowhere to be seen.
Zane twisted in agony on the floor, yet even injured and barely able to sit up, he seemed to participate in the fight, launching throwing star after star toward the witch.
Go!
The dog followed her silent command.
Twenty-Three
Zane pushed back the pain in his leg. One of the witch’s lightning bolts had shredded his thigh. It would heal eventually, but since he had no human blood to help along the process and certainly no time to fall into a restorative sleep, he might as well continue fighting.
His colleagues were doing a formidable job, pushing her back despite the loss of their handguns—their opponent had melted them right out of their hands. From what Zane could see, the witch was weakening, but not sufficient to deliver the coup de grâce. Only three vampires had made it into the room with him, one of them being Gabriel, but then the witch had erected another ward, making it impossible for more of his brethren to join the fight.
When he noticed a movement, his head snapped toward the open doorway where he’d seen Yvette. Automatically, his hand went to his last throwing star. He’d make this one count. His action arrested in his shoulder as he noticed the dog gingerly walk toward him.
Shit! He’d almost killed the poor animal.
Zane’s night vision zoomed in on the dog’s collar. The vial still hung on it untouched. Yvette had clearly understood that it was no use unleashing the potion behind the wards. How she’d made sure the dog had come back out into the chaos, he didn’t care.
The animal put paw in front of paw to approach him. Too slow for Zane’s liking, but not wanting to scare the dog away, he kept as still as he could, at the same time keeping an eye on the fighting to prevent any stray lightning bolts from hitting him.
“Come here, doggie,” he cooed and hoped nobody could hear him over the grunts and shouts that filled the room. He’d never survive the embarrassment.
For whatever reason, the dog closed in on him, its eyes locked with Zane’s as if it was trying to communicate. When the beast was close enough to touch, Zane reached out his hand, slowly, without haste as not to make it change its mind. When his hands connected with the dog’s fur, he stroked over it, and the dog closed the distance between them.
Zane felt for the collar and pried the vial off it.
A lightning bolt charged toward the dog’s head and without thinking, Zane threw himself over the animal, flatting it against the floor. The heat of the bolt passed over his head, close enough to singe his hair had he had any left.
The animal beneath him
whimpered. “Shh, boy, it’s good.”
Zane’s fingers tightened around the vial as he lifted himself off the dog and twisted his upper body toward the witch. For an instant, he saw her eyes connect with the object in his hand. A flash of fear crossed her features as she seemed to recognize its significance.
Zane’s arm pulled back, ready to toss the vial at her feet so the potion in it would be released, when a lightning bolt blinded him briefly. When he blinked, the witch was gone.
Not a second later, more vampires stormed into the room, the ward that had held them outside suddenly gone. They crowded into the room, armed to the teeth, yelling their battle cries, yet there was nobody left to fight.
“Yvette!” Zane shouted toward the open door. He could scent her now with the ward being gone too. But there was still a lingering scent of witch in the air, and he didn’t like it. Had Francine come in with the other vamps?
He scanned the group, but Francine wasn’t among them. Yet, the residual scent of witch was stronger now. Were his senses tricking him because adrenaline wasn’t flowing as freely in his veins as during the fight? He grimaced in agony as the pain in his leg intensified.
“Thank God!” Yvette’s relieved voice made him snap his head back to the room where she’d been kept. She rushed out, her eyes instantly taking in the situation. Relief spread in her face until she noticed Zane lying on the floor.
“Ah, shit, Zane!” She ran toward him and crouched down.
“You okay?” he pressed out through clenched teeth, trying not to cry out when she put her hand on his injured thigh, trying to assess the severity of the wound.
“Better than you. You look like crap.”
Suddenly, dizziness spread in his head. Shit, he was going to pass out. No, couldn’t do that. Not if front of all his colleagues. And even less in front of Yvette. Couldn’t show weakness. He bit the inside of his cheek to distract himself from the pain in his leg.
“We need blood here,” Yvette instructed, waving toward Gabriel, who instantly rushed to them even as he issued commands to search for the witch. “Is Oliver with you?”
