by Faith Hunter
I inhaled slowly, letting the shock settle. I could think later about what the gang-feeding analogy might mean to Leo, and moved to my bedroom to weapon up as I checked Derek’s GPS info, merging it into a map and then taking a look at it on webcam pics. The car was on the far side of Highway 10, parked at a one-story house on Ursulines Ave. According to Google, there was a high school nearby, but not much else. Of course, Google was not something I wanted to depend on when planning an op.
“Trap for us?” I asked, sliding into my M4 harness and the holsters for the nine-mils.
“Could be.”
“Okay. I’ll meet them there.” Behind me, I heard the familiar clicks and metal-against-metal of guns being checked and glanced back to see Eli Younger weaponing up as well. I watched to see what he carried and it was pretty much standard, the kind of stuff I had utilized when I first started out.
“If it looks reliable,” Derek said, “we’ll send Leo’s blood-servants to be available.”
Leo was drained. Drained vamps are dangerous. Very. “Okay. I’ll get back to you.”
From my closet floor I lifted the boot box I use for a jewelry box and set it on the bed. Inside were the few pieces I owned, each stuffed inside athletic socks to keep them from rattling around. And to keep my socks all in one place. I placed the black velvet gift box on the bed and lifted out my silver and titanium vamp-hunting collar. Underneath it was the coyote earring that had appeared in the box following a particularly horrible nightmare one night. I paused at the sight. I didn’t have nightmares often, but this one had stuck with me. So had the earring, which was weird, but no weirder than the fact that the pocket watch had somehow gotten into the black velvet box with it. I distinctly remembered dropping the watch-amulet into the box, on top of the socks. The amulet’s magic still smelled like meat. Like blood. Good thing Beast wasn’t hanging around too much. She would want to taste it. Along with the watch, I stuffed the earring in a sock, wondering if they would both reappear, in a different spot in the box the next time I opened it. I removed the collar and put the box back on the floor of the closet.
“You going somewhere?” I asked Eli, questioning his weapons with lifted brows.
He shrugged. “Consider it a job interview for the brawn half of the Younger team.”
“Suit yourself,” I said. “We’re going to rescue a starving master vamp from some kidnappers and torturers. Try not to get your throat torn out.” That made Eli pause half a second in his prep work. He looked over my necklace collar, considering the implications. “No. I don’t have another one,” I said. “If I keep you around—”
“Yeah, yeah. You’ll spring for one.”
“Heck no. These suckers are expensive. I’ll send you to a supplier and you can buy your own.”
“Sweet lady.”
“Your brother had it right. I’m no lady. We’ll take your vehicle.”
Eli shrugged and we were out the door and heading toward Highway 10, Eli driving, me reading out directions on my cell.
* * *
The house was in need of a paint job, but it had a newish, post-Katrina roof. It was deep but narrow on the front, with steps up to a porch and working shutters closed over all the windows. In the Deep South, shutters are for hurricane protection, not just looks. Unlike most of the duplexes around it, this was a single-family house, up on seven-foot stilts, with the lower area used for low-head parking and storage. We pulled down the block, behind the SUV, and parked, trees between us and the house.
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 th
ere 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.
“There’s another hidden space in a closet upstairs,” I said. “But it isn’t my house and I wasn’t into vandalism. At the time.” I didn’t feel so bad about it now, however, knowing that I’d shared my house with the MOC and/or his heir when it was convenient for him.
“You need a safe room, you got a safe room,” Eli said, looking around, following the geometry of the small space, “one supported by cypress timbers and lined with stone and poured cement, in case of fire. All I have to do is repair the wall and hide the opening with that steel door.” He pointed out into the main room, and I saw a steel door in cardboard and shrink-wrap leaning against the wall. I hadn’t even noticed it until he pointed it out—there was too much other destruction. “Then I cover it with a hinged bookcase. It’ll do in a pinch, especially as it has an escape hatch.” He peered into the hole in the floor. It was framed with wood and was wide enough to admit a skinny person. Me. Or a vamp. They were always skinny.
