Dead Heat (Taz Bell Book 1)

by Sharon Green

  While Eric was handing out instructions to our charge, the opposition was getting together in two groups of three. There were four men and two women, one woman in each of the groups of three, and the female expressions of hostility were worse than those of the men. The women's hatred for Boughton was dark and intense, but it came to me that that's not why the women had been included. Most men - and some fighters in general - will hesitate before doing serious harm to a woman, which would give the men with them the chance to get past Boughton's guards.

  "Eric, don't let the woman keep you from doing what you have to," I called as I kicked off the sling-back heels and reached for the gown skirt. "If she gets in the way, move her out of it any way you have to."

  I knew Eric heard me, but he wasn't stupid enough to take his attention away from the three people approaching him to answer. I also had three people to face, and all of them, as well as the ones near Eric, were carrying knives. Some of the six were holding the blades as if they were talismans of power, obviously expecting the mere sight of the weapon to frighten us enough to make us run.

  If one of them had a gun it wasn't showing, which made a sideways kind of sense. If you fire a gun in a crowded place like that lobby, there's a good chance you'll hit an innocent bystander instead of your target. That was why Allison's people were running over just holding their own guns instead of coming in shooting. No one wants to be responsible for an innocent death, even when too many of the damned fools around us had stopped to watch the goings-on instead of taking cover.

  I'd looked around quickly but carefully to make sure that all the opposition was in front of us and none waiting for their chance at a stab in the back, so to speak. It looked like they all were out front, but there was no sense in taking chances.

  "Keep behind me, Zachary, but also keep your eyes open," I said without looking at Boughton. "If this is just a distraction meant to let someone else reach you, you'll have to defend yourself until Eric or I get free enough to help. I'll try to make it as fast as possible."

  "I'll be guarding your back so don't worry about it," Boughton said, his voice sounding odd in a way I didn't have the time to think about. "Just be careful and don't let any of them hurt you."

  By that time I had the modified Bowie knife in my right hand, and sight of it made the three people coming at me hesitate a moment. They'd also hesitated over what I was wearing and not wearing, staring with disapproval as if they'd expected me to face them still in high heels and a long skirt. They seemed to consider my getting out of encumbrances unfair, but that was too bad about them.

  And they also seemed to expect me to just stand there and wait until they got around to attacking. Maybe that was because there were three of them and only one of me, but the outlook showed that they were amateurs rather than professionals. The rules say that if you're outnumbered you take out the weakest opponent or opponents fast, then you can give your undivided attention to whoever is left. The move is designed to change the odds in your favor, so that was what I did.

  Kicking the knife out of the woman's hand wasn't hard, and wouldn't have been even if she'd been holding the weapon properly. The biggest problem with too many women is that they expect to be protected so they make no effort to learn how to protect themselves. The dark-haired woman in front of me definitely had that problem; when I put a side kick into her middle she choked and collapsed to the floor without even a token effort to block the move.

  But that woke up the man to her right and my left. The look of outrage on his face was almost comical, but there was nothing funny about the way he shifted his grip on the knife he held and tried to stab down at me with it. I had to use my left hand to grab his wrist, but ignored the stab of pain as I used the hold to throw him into the man on the right. The one on the right had been advancing on Boughton, but slowly enough that he was still a few feet away from his target when his friend slammed into him.

  The two men went down in a heap, and I followed fast and kicked them in the head one after the other. The thing bothering me most was that this had all been too easy, even though a glance showed me that Eric still had one man on his feet while he, Eric, struggled with the blond woman in the group. When you have little or no trouble taking out the first line of attackers, there's almost always another line that you aren't supposed to know about.

  And looking past Boughton showed me the men who were really supposed to do the dirty work. One of them held a very sharp wooden stake, one stood facing Allison's people with a gun in his hands, and the third brandished a large cross. Boughton had turned to face the three, who would have come up behind me, guarding my back just the way he said he would.

  Allison's people just stood there with frustrated looks on their faces, not quite prepared to exchange fire with the gunman. The man they were supposed to protect was behind the gunman, which meant they could end up killing the very man they were there to save. That told me their guns most likely had that special ammunition designed to put down younger vampires, at least for a short while. The bullets were designed to explode on contact, releasing the small amount of silver nitrate they were filled with. Even a small bit of silver nitrate would hurt a vampire, not to mention what it would do to a shapeshifter.

  Which made me very glad they were holding their fire. One of the reasons the guards were being so cautious was that the two men closest to Boughton had stopped advancing on the scientist. The one holding the cross looked totally bewildered over the fact that Boughton wasn't cowering away and hiding his face, which was pure stupidity. Only in folklore do all vampires shrink back from the sight of a cross, something religious nuts were apparently unaware of. If you aren't a Christian a cross means nothing to you, no matter how much the object means to the one holding it.

  And Boughton clearly wasn't a Christian. My guess would have been that Boughton wasn't religious at all, so even if they'd held up something else considered a holy item it still wouldn't have worked. Fanatics do think they know it all, which had let them believe they'd be able to just walk up to Boughton and stick a stake in his heart.

  I took a few seconds to shake my head at the stupidity of people who were fanatics. Even if they'd been able to reach Boughton with the stake, stabbing it into him wouldn't have worked very well. Even a very strong human lacks the strength needed to go through a ribcage with something as big as a stake, most especially since the guy with the stake wasn't also holding a mallet or hammer.

  A shapeshifter might have had the strength to shove a stake through Boughton's ribs to reach his heart, but even I'd tried to use a branch for the purpose from behind. If a vampire is facing you he can also grab you or direct his power at you, even if he happens to have his eyes covered to protect himself from a cross. And Boughton's eyes weren't covered at all, which is certainly what kept the two men from closing with him.

  But I didn't have time to play with those men, not when one of them had a gun out and pointed. I shoved the knife back in its sheath even as I began to move, and I was running as I reached the two closest attackers. I barreled into them and knocked them flying as I passed, and then I was right behind the man with the gun. I threw a fist into the top of his spine, paralyzing him for a moment at least, and then I was able to reach around and yank the gun out of his hand.

  Allison's people came up fast at that point, grabbing the former gunman before he began to fold to the floor. That was when other guards appeared from the area near the elevators and poured into the lobby, reinforcements who must have been called for when the attack first started. I looked around carefully to make sure all the attackers had already shown themselves, incidentally seeing that Eric had finally managed to neutralize all of his three. The woman was screaming and struggling with the guards cuffing her hands behind her, a sight that told me Eric might have heard what I said on the subject but hadn't listened.

  "I think the excitement is all over with now," a voice said from behind me, Zachary Boughton's voice. "You were magnificent, my dear, absolutely magnif
icent."

  I turned to look at the man - at the vampire - and saw that he was already looking at me. His blue eyes gleamed with approval, enjoyment, and something I didn't care to define, a reaction I hadn't been expecting.

  "If I had to describe your expression, I would call it wary," Boughton said, and oddly enough he was just short of laughing. "Did you really think I had no idea you were one of those meant to protect me?"

  "When we met last night you seemed to have a different idea," I answered, trying to adjust to this new Boughton. "I didn't really lie, you know. Allison did ask me a favor in regard to you, just not the favor I led you to believe."

  "Making it clear that you weren't lying is important to you, I'm delighted to see," Boughton commented, his smile showing the tips of his fangs. "That means you really did enjoy yourself last night as much as you seemed to. I can't tell you how glad I am to know that."

  "Zachary, please don't make this harder than it has to be," I said with a sigh, hating that I was turning out to be the one who had to bring him down to earth. "Just because I enjoyed myself last night doesn't mean there's something special between us. My teammates and I were hired to protect you, and that's all I was doing last night - and tonight."

  "And a lovely job you did at it too," he said, his amusement growing stronger. "I expected to be supplied with the sort of nonentity female I'm usually supplied with, but instead I was given a woman of spirit who was also capable of taking care of herself. I noticed that almost immediately, by the way, mostly because of the way you glide rather than walk. It's the same sleek and capable way the man who brought you walks, which suggested you were a guard just the way he was."

  "That's right, I'm a paid guard," I said, trying to emphasize the point. "That means - "

  "That means nothing, my dear, at least not anything you seem to believe," he interrupted, his voice now almost a purr. "I'll admit I've ignored my … state for more than half a century while I worked for the good of humanity, but last night I was forced to understand a bit more about myself. There's a lure, an attraction about you that I can't seem to turn away from, not that I really want to turn away. You're the first woman to attract me like this since my wife died, and truth to tell even she would not have been able to compete with you. I - "

  "Dr. Boughton, please," I said, taking my turn at interrupting while I also held up a hand. Calling him Zachary was probably encouraging him, so I'd decided to make our exchange more formal. "I don't know any nice way to say this, so I'll just speak the words. Whatever attraction you feel for me, I'm sorry to say that the feeling isn't mutual. I have a well-established career waiting for me to get back to it, and that's exactly what I intend to do."

  "That's not a problem, it's a benefit," Boughton said, and for a minute I thought he would laugh out loud. It was almost as if the vampire was drunk… "For years people have been trying to talk me into hiring a bodyguard of my own, but I never found much interest in the idea. Now I consider the idea marvelous, and I'm delighted to say I can pay you quite a lot of money to do the job. You can start right now, as soon as you replace your skirt and shoes. There is a party waiting for us to attend, after all."

  "We'll both be going to that party with you, Dr. Boughton, but not as permanent employees," Eric said suddenly while I just stood there trying not to close my eyes in pain. Eric had come up on my left, and his voice didn't sound friendly in the least. "Taz has been trying to tell you that our team is not available for hire, definitely not for the kind of hire you're offering. If you can't accept that fact, we'll have to ask to be replaced right now."

  "How dare you intrude in a matter that isn't your concern?" Boughton snapped, all amusement and good cheer gone in an instant as he stared at Eric. "My offer is being made to Jane - to Taz, if you prefer - and is none of your business. Step back, human, and don't intrude where you don't belong again."

  I was the one who stepped back when I felt Boughton's power begin to flow. There was a lot more strength in that surge of power than there had been last night, which meant that we were about to have some trouble. I was absolutely right about that, but wrong about what would be causing the trouble.

  Eric had just straightened where he stood when a scream rang out that took the attention of all of us including Boughton. I turned around fast, having no idea what I would see, especially since most of the attackers had been handcuffed by the security force and pulled or carried out of the lobby. It was obvious they wanted the mess out of the public eye as quickly as possible, having no idea that a second mess was about to start.

  And that second mess was right now forming from gray smoke in the middle of the lobby. We all stared as the smoke turned into a giant being with equally giant wings, as ugly a customer as I'd ever seen. He - and it became clear that the thing was a he - was massively built to match his height, with jagged teeth in his mouth and claws at the ends of his fingers. He also wore a belted robe that looked very much like a burnoose, which seemed to go well with his burning black eyes and shaggy black hair. Oddly enough he had a fresh, clean smell, only slightly mixed with a sense of dust or sand.

  And as soon as he was fully formed and solid, he turned and headed for Eric, Boughton, and me.

  Chapter Twenty-Seven

  No one even had the time to say, "What the hell is that," before Eric suddenly began to race at the giant. But I had just enough time to think that he was misinterpreting the rule of combat I'd been thinking about earlier. It's just good strategy to attack when you're outnumbered, but only if there's a chance to turn things around in your favor. Trying the move with a thing at least eight feet tall doesn't strike me as anything like sound strategy.

  And that proved true only a couple of minutes later. Eric seemed ready to tackle the giant and was moving fast enough that he might have managed it - if the giant hadn't leaned down and swatted Eric out of his way. Eric went flying through the air to the left, and I didn't even have time to notice where - and how - he landed.

  It had suddenly come to me that I still held the gun I'd taken away from the fanatic, so I raised the weapon and aimed for the giant's head. That head was high enough off the ground that I had to shoot upward, which meant there wasn't much of a chance that I'd accidentally shoot an innocent bystander. I pulled the trigger four or five times, silently congratulating myself for not attacking with bare hands the way Eric had, but I might as well have done the same. Shooting the giant did absolutely nothing, making it clear I'd been wasting my time.

  I took a second to drop the gun and shove Boughton back and away from me, and then the giant had gotten close enough that he swung a claw-tipped hand at me. I jumped back as best I could, but those claws still sliced along my body, just not deeply enough to shred me to ribbons. Pain flashed after the initial shock, but by then I was braced for it as I moved to my left. I was trying to lead the thing away from Boughton, but didn't go far in case the monster didn't follow.

  But the giant did follow me, so I drew the knife from its sheathe and just held the weapon down by my thigh, trying not to draw the giant's attention to it. If I got the chance I meant to gut the thing, assuming he could be gutted…

  People were screaming and running around all over the place, others huddled behind pieces of furniture. Allison's guards were trying to clear the area, but they weren't having an easy time of it. I got a glimpse of someone trying to take Boughton out of harm's way, but Boughton just shrugged off the try and stayed where he was. The expression on the scientist's face was a mixture of fear and frustration, but I had the feeling the fear wasn't for himself. It was fairly obvious that Boughton wanted to help me, but happily he didn't know how.

  Not that I had any better ideas. I just kept jumping back every time the giant swung a handful of knife-like claws in my direction, trying not to fall over a chair or a table while I moved backwards. When the giant tried to reach me with his left hand I had the chance to use my knife, so I did. I had to use the blade on his arm instead of his middle, but I still found out what
I wanted to know. The knife sliced into his arm and made a decent cut, but the giant ignored the wound as if it had happened to someone else. When the cut closed up almost immediately, I understood why the wound had been ignored.

  So I resheathed the knife and just concentrated on staying far enough away from the giant to keep him from opening me up completely. He kept trying to corner me in front of something too big to avoid, and once I was forced to dive over a couch to get away. I rolled when I hit the floor and got back to my feet that way, turning just in time to see the giant shove the couch out of his path. A couch meant to hold four people easily that was about as far from flimsy as it's possible for furniture to be, thrown to one side as if it was made of cardboard.

  That was when Eric tried to tackle the giant again, and this time he got close enough to complete the try. His arms wrapped around the giant's legs and his momentum should have knocked the giant over, but it didn't happen. The giant flapped his wings a little to keep his balance, reached down to grab Eric by the neck, and then Eric was flying through the air again. A rag doll tossed away by an angry child…

  "What the hell do you want?" I found myself yelling at the giant, who had started in my direction again. "Who sent you here?"

  Those jagged teeth showed briefly in a grin, but there weren't any words to go along with the expression. It had finally come to me that if the giant was after Boughton it could have gotten to him without any trouble, but the giant hadn't even glanced at the scientist. I seemed to be the only one the monster was interested in, a level of popularity I could have done very well without. The four diagonal slashes across my body burned and flashed pain even when I stood still. The fact that the wounds had almost stopped bleeding didn't help very much, not when the first wounds would probably soon be added to.

  And I didn't know how much longer that chase could go on. Eventually the giant would corner me, and there was nothing I'd be able to do to stop him. Right now I was backing toward the front entrance of the hotel, and when I got close enough I would consider making a run for it. I'd seen flashes of George hovering to one side, waiting to see if he could be of some kind of help. I was sure George would swirl around the giant's head to give me a better chance to get away, so running just might get me clear.