I’ll Be Slaying You

by Cynthia Eden

Dee drew back her fist, and Simon knew the punch would be hard. He probably deserved it, though, all things considered.

  Before the blow could land, a long, loud whistle split the night.

  Dee spun toward the front of the house. “This is not my night—” She froze. “Tell me that’s not gasoline.”

  But it was. The scent was thick and heavy in the air, because some bastards were out there, getting ready to torch the house, to torch them. “They followed you.”

  “What?” Her claws were out. Not as long or deadly as a shifter’s, but still able to do a whole lot of damage. “No way, I’m always careful.”

  He shoved past her and headed into the small den. The gasoline scent was stronger here. Not much time. “You weren’t careful enough.”

  “Simon—”

  Something flew through the already broken front window. A Molotov cocktail. Shit. “Dee! Get the hell out!”

  More burning bottles. They slammed into the floor. Into the walls. Into the broken remains of his prized TV.

  Then the flames sprang up like greedy bitches, racing across the floor and devouring everything in their path.

  Trying to burn us out. No, just trying to burn them. He grabbed Dee and shoved her back into the bedroom. The flames chased them. The smoke thickened the air and he tasted ash on his tongue. He could see flames through the blinds on his window. Tall, dancing, red flames. They’d surrounded the house. Smart assholes. They’d circled the house with a ring of fire before sending the flames inside.

  The better to trap them.

  Vampires and fire didn’t mix. He’d seen too many of his brethren fall to the flames.

  It wouldn’t happen to them. Not to Dee. He grabbed the tangled covers from the bed.

  Dee jumped up and kicked the glass from his window. No fresh air came in, just more billowing smoke.

  She hurtled through the broken glass and Simon lunged right on her heels.

  Couldn’t see the sky. No stars. No moon. Only that hungry circle of flames, burning closer.

  “We’re surrounded.” Dee’s tight voice. And they were. The vamps had planned well, and he’d been so distracted by Dee that he’d let them get killing close.

  Won’t make that mistake again.

  They’d fed the flames, poured so much gas on the area that the air tasted rancid on his tongue.

  “Burn, bitch, burn.” The words echoed in the night, crackling above the flames.

  Not on his watch. He threw the covers over Dee, heard her grunt as he grabbed her and tossed her over his shoulder.

  Then he jumped through the flames.

  The fire bit his arms and licked across the side of his face. Touching hell. The white-hot pain seared him, singeing skin and lancing flash in the seconds it took to leap through the fire.

  They hit the ground. His arms were burning. The cover surrounding Dee blazed with fire. He rolled her, pounding at the fire, and the dirt flew around them.

  The pain—aw, fuck. He sucked in a breath, choked on smoke, and took the hot agony. Used it.

  Dee shoved out of the cover. “Simon, what the hell were you—”

  “Fucking bitch,” a snarl, too close.

  Simon’s head jerked up and he saw the vamps closing in. Four of them. The survivors from the alley.

  Shouldn’t have let them live. But his priority had been getting Dee the hell away from that place before any of the vamps had been able to make her death permanent.

  Mateo came in first. The big, thick Italian was at least a century old, and he had one serious addiction to pain—giving it and hearing the screams of his prey.

  He came at Dee, the claws of his left hand swinging toward her neck even as he brought up his right hand, a hand that Simon knew would be clutching a stake in that bulging fist.

  “No! Dee, watch out!”

  She twisted, her legs still partially trapped in the smoking covers as she fought to rise.

  Simon jumped in front of her, and Mateo’s claws sank into his chest.

  Shit. His teeth snapped together. Oh, but the bastard had been begging for a killing for far too long.

  He slammed his head into the vamp’s. Handy little trick he’d learned from Dee.

  But Mateo just laughed and that stake came up even as the claws twisted in Simon’s chest.

  Okay, a little help would be good right then. “Dee!”

  Mateo’s eyes widened. His lips opened, a high keening cry gurgling up in his throat.

  Then he slumped forward.

  Simon looked over the stiff man’s body. Saw Dee. Saw her jerk the wooden stake from Mateo’s back. “Don’t worry, I got the heart.”

  Uh, yeah, he bet she had.

  He wrenched the vamp’s hand and the claws ripped from his chest.

  Pain blasted through him.

  Take it. Use it.

  Simon didn’t look down at his body. Couldn’t. Not then. If he saw the damage…

  “What are they waiting on?” Dee whispered.

  His head shot up. The other three vampires stood less than five feet away. Their claws were out, their fangs glinting in the firelight.

  He knew them all, just as he’d known Mateo.

  Katya, the Russian vampiress, an ex-mob boss’s lover. She’d gutted the fool who’d loved her.

  Vince, the newbie who’d turned less than a year before. So much bloodlust there, burning in his eyes.

  And Leo, tall and dark, standing and waiting with that damn twisted grin on his face.

  Waiting, all of them, just waiting.

  “Who the hell are you assholes?” Dee demanded and damn if the woman didn’t put herself in front of him.

  Aw, well, wasn’t that sweet. But, considering the way he was starting to waver on his feet, maybe it was necessary, too.

  “We’re the welcome wagon, sweetheart.” From Leo. He crossed his arms, raked his gaze over her, and seemed to ignore the flames.

  “Uh, yeah? Well, here’s a tip. Flowers work well. They say, ‘Hi, here’s a present.’ Fire, ummm, not so much.” The stake was in her hand. Dripping blood.

  Leo’s black stare drifted to Simon. “You sure this is the side you want to choose, buddy?”

  Before he could speak, Dee growled. “Buddy? Hell, Simon, tell me you don’t know these freaks.”

  A laugh from Leo. Should have been a warning. It was. “I’m the one who changed Simon, and Katya—”

  Katya smiled. Don’t go there. Don’t!

  “She’s the one who gave him his first vampire fuck.”

  Oh, great. Like he needed this shit. “Let’s just kill ’em, okay?” The talk was part of Leo’s technique. The way to distract. To weaken.

  Dee glanced at the redhead. “How about that.” She fired Simon a hot stare. “Bad taste. You go for killers? Cause Katya, I’ve heard about you.” The Russian liked her bloodbaths, so that was no surprise.

  “I didn’t screw her, Dee.” The bloodlust had been riding him hard when Leo had brought him in to the pack. But he’d fought the dark temptation and Katya.

  Katya wasn’t the kind of vampire he wanted. Dee was. “I’m not like them.” Could she see that?

  Her eyes held his a second longer. “I know.”

  “Bitch.” Katya pulled two knives from the sheaths on her hips. “I’m going to cut your head off.” Fifty years and the woman’s accent still rolled Russian.

  A sigh from Dee. “Bring it.”

  Katya lunged forward, knives up, fangs bared, she went in quick for a brutal attack and—

  Dee drove her stake into the vampiress’s heart.

  Katya fell to the ground.

  “Next.”

  He blinked. No, she hadn’t just said—

  Vince screamed and barreled toward her. Oh, right, rumors said Vince and Katya had been an item since his change.

  Dee scooped up Katya’s knives. Sliced fast and deep.

  Another body hit the ground. This one, um, minus a head.

  “You ready?” Dee asked a no-longer grinning Le
o. “Or do you want to make things interesting and try to run?”

  Yes. He’d been right about her. She’d be more than strong enough to kick Grim’s ass. The Born Master would go down.

  This nightmare could end. Finally.

  Sirens wailed in the distance. The cops were coming. So someone had finally noticed the giant ball of fire that was eating its way into the night?

  “More will come for you.” Leo spat on the ground.

  One shoulder lifted. “Let them.”

  “You and the traitor—you’ll both die, screaming.”

  “Uh, wait, let me guess.” A pause as she held up her hand. “Begging for death? For mercy?” A hard shake of her head. “Not my style. Didn’t do it the first time, won’t be doing it the second.”

  Bright red lights filtered through the smoke. The loud blare of a fire truck’s horn had Leo jerking. “It’s not over.”

  “For you, it is.”

  Simon’s knees hit the dirt. “Dee…” Too much pain. Too much. Mateo’s claws had dug too deeply into his chest. He glanced down now, finally, and—bastard almost took my heart.

  This wasn’t good. “D-Dee…” He tried to call her again.

  But Dee, with her slightly scorched hair, shot forward and slammed her fist into Leo’s face.

  Then Simon slammed face first into the ground.

  Chapter 10

  He woke on a gurney. A mask covered half of his face and some crazy woman had her hand pressed hard to his heart. Simon’s hands jerked, snapping through the binds that held his wrists in place.

  “Wow, easy!” That hand pressed harder. The woman stared at him, hazel eyes steady. “You go jumping up, you’ll ruin all my fine work.”

  He heaved up anyway, and winced at the pull of—stitches? Yeah, she’d sewn up his chest.

  “I didn’t do anything for the burns.” No, he didn’t want to look at those, but the woman, an EMT, trailed her fingers down his arm.

  Pain pulsed through him and Simon sucked in a hard breath.

  “Easy.” She glanced over her shoulder at the swarming cops and the firefighters with their blasting hoses. Then her eyes came back to him. “I stitched you up to stop the blood loss. I figured the burns would heal either before or on your next rising.”

  Rising. A vampire term. So the lady with the curly brown hair knew what he was.

  “I gave you blood,” she said, leaning in close and pointing to a bag that dangled near his head. “It took four bags to wake you up.”

  “You mind giving him some room, Samuels?” Dee’s annoyed voice.

  Simon almost smiled. Almost.

  The EMT did.

  “Jeez, I swear, if I didn’t know you were screwing that charmer, I’d think you were hitting on my vamp.”

  Her vamp? Since when?

  Serious progress.

  Samuels eased back and Simon got a good look at his Born.

  Soot marked the right side of her face. The ends of her hair had been scorched, so the cut was even more screwed than normal. Her lips were red. Her eyes big and dark. And when those eyes landed on him, horror filled them.

  “Oh, hell, Simon, I didn’t know it was this bad.” She jumped into the back of the ambulance and hurried to his side. “What the hell were you thinking? Vamps can’t jump through fire. You know the skin of a vamp burns too fast.”

  A weakness. One of only a few his kind possessed.

  Her breath came out in a long hiss. Her fingers hovered over the red, raw flesh.

  He caught her hand. “Don’t look at it.”

  Her gaze rose. “Your face…”

  Then he remembered the flash of agony along his cheek.

  But her eyes only flickered for a moment, then held his. “Tough guy, aren’t you?”

  Like this was the worst that had ever happened to him.

  Not even close.

  “You’ve got to stop trying to protect me.” Her fingers lifted and brushed back his hair. Simon knew his hair had to be singed like hers. That, too, would vanish with the next rising. “You know I’m stronger than I look,” she said.

  A hell of a lot stronger. “You killed them all?” A guy could hope, because those assholes were trouble.

  Her hand fell away. “No, your sire’s still breathing. Kinda, anyway.”

  He flinched. This was the last thing he wanted. “What? Why? And where the hell is he? Humans are here!”

  “Easy.” Why was everyone telling him that?

  She glanced back over her shoulder. “Tony has him. He’s taking him to a private holding cell.” Her eyes returned to his. “Can’t really have him blending with the general population in jail, now, can we?”

  Not unless they wanted a slaughter.

  Someone slammed the ambulance doors. The siren shrieked on, wailing over his head. “I can’t go to a hospital! You know what will happen once they get a good look at me.”

  She crouched and locked her fingers with his as the ambulance took off. “We’re not going to the hospital.” Her eyes didn’t waver. Didn’t look at the skin on his face that he knew had to look like it had been touched by hell.

  “Then where?”

  A faint curve lifted her lips. Samuels watched them, but said nothing as she fiddled with the bags of blood, one of which still drained into Simon’s veins. “We’re goin’ to that private holding cell. Tony still needs his proof that I’m innocent, and before the sun rises, Leo will give him that proof.”

  “You think Leo will turn on Grim?” He managed a hard shake of his head. Pain knifed through his body, white-hot agony snaked up his arms, but he was getting stronger. Every second, he was getting stronger. “Never gonna happen.”

  “Aw, but you don’t know just how persuasive I can be.” A bigger smile, one that showed the tips of her fangs.

  He swallowed.

  “Grim,” she repeated the name, as if tasting it. “That the name of the freak after us?”

  “Yeah.” One of his names, anyway. When you lived as long as Grim had, the names changed over the centuries. “He’s not an easy mark. You’ve never come across another like him.” He had to warn her. The fight wouldn’t go down like others had in her past.

  “Huh.” A pause, too long, then, “If you haven’t been bullshitting me, and I’m really a Born—”

  “Oh, Christ,” the whispered exclamation came from a suddenly wide-eyed Samuels.

  “—then I can make that bastard Leo talk. One way or another.”

  Yes, she could.

  He fell back against the gurney. “It’s not bullshit.”

  “No,” soft, thoughtful. “I don’t think it is.” Her fingers traced up the edge of his arm, carefully skirting the bright red blisters. “Where do you fit into all of this? Their side? Mine?”

  His gaze darted to Samuels. He didn’t know her. Didn’t trust her.

  He caught Dee’s fingers. Brought them to his lips. “I’m with you, babe.” That simple—he fit with her.

  She hesitated. He knew she didn’t trust him yet. But she would. Soon. Even if he had to step through fire for her once more.

  Simon closed his eyes, pushed back the pain, and wondered who Grim would send after them next.

  “You burned for me,” she said, her voice barely reaching his sensitive ears.

  He didn’t open his eyes. “I told you, I’m with you.” Hers. If she only knew.

  Dee didn’t speak again. Neither did he.

  The ambulance stopped at an old factory on the outskirts of Baton Rouge. A train whistle echoed in the distance and the scent of rain carried on the wind.

  When Simon climbed out of the ambulance, Dee tried really, really hard not to wince. The wounds were healing, almost right before her eyes, but, oh, damn, they were vicious.

  And the man was standing. No, walking, as if he hadn’t just been comatose, with second-degree burns covering a good portion of his body.

  Vampires.

  He saved me. Again.

  “Dee!” Tony’s voice. Demanding and a
little nervous. Since he was human, he should be nervous. Very nervous.

  She walked toward him, with Simon at her side.

  I’m with you, babe.

  If only things were that simple. If only she didn’t think the man still had secrets that could come back to bite.

  Tony shoved open the doors to the factory. Rats squeaked and Dee was pretty sure about six roaches ran over her feet.

  Oh, hell.

  “Got him chained in there.” He jerked his thumb toward a room on the left. “He’s waking up, and even the blood loss isn’t going to slow him down for long.”

  Her chin lifted. She’d managed to get some good swipes in before the cops pulled up, and she’d managed to knock out Leo just in time. She’d been the only one left conscious when the uniforms swarmed with their guns, so she’d been able to make some bullshit explanations, fast.

  Lucky for her, Tony had been on the scene, barking orders and getting the cops he trusted—two charmers—to take the bleeding Leo into custody.

  She’d leaned in close to Tony at that scene. Too many ears had been there, so she’d had to be careful, and she’d told him, simply, “My proof.”

  He’d done the rest. Cleared the area. Taken Leo to the new “interrogation” room that had been cleared for supernaturals. Made sure that Samuels was there to treat Simon.

  Simon.

  Tony eyed him. “I can’t believe you took up with a vampire. I mean, seriously, Dee, a bloodsucker? Come on, I thought you had standards. You know that you and I could—”

  Her stare shut him up. “Let’s get this over with, okay? I want my name cleared and I want to find out if more jerkoffs are gonna be coming to attack.” He didn’t know. Tony thought she’d just had one really kick-ass fighting night because she’d had those before.

  You were getting stronger.

  What would Tony do, when he saw what she’d become?

  Growling, she shoved by him and went after her prey.

  Leo stood in the middle of the room, his arms lifted and held in thick chains so that he dangled a good foot off the ground. The chains were hooked up to some kind of pulley, and one of the charmers stood near the master machine, sweat coating his brow.

  “Bitch.”

  Her brows lifted as she faced Leo. “Aw, you’re trying to sweet-talk me.”