by Kelly Meding
He chuckled. “Wyatt wear you out?”
“Yes, and something tells me I’m not the only one worn out from sex.”
Milo blushed.
I planted a kiss on his cheek. “Congrats, by the way.”
“Shut up.”
“No, I mean it.” I grabbed the side of his walker so he couldn’t hobble away. “Having something to fight for besides duty and honor? It’s that final burst that gets you through, even when you’re positive you don’t have anything left to give.”
He held my gaze for a long moment before nodding. “Thanks for giving us both that extra push.”
“Thank me by giving details.”
“No, and hell no.”
I stuck my tongue out at him. “Spoil sport.”
“Brat.”
I goaded him the entire way to the cafeteria, because for a little while, it felt really nice to be normal twenty-somethings again.
Even if it wouldn’t last.
A little after two in the morning, Astrid called me down to Ops. Her tone of voice told me before I even walked into the command center that I wasn’t going to like the news. She and Rufus were bent over a computer terminal, and I got a small twinge of satisfaction at sneaking up on them both.
“Whatever it is, I didn’t do it,” I said.
“I know you didn’t.” Astrid’s weary tone warned me to back off the sarcasm. “One of our city patrols found a body. They think it’s a gnome.”
My stomach flipped. “Do they know who it is?”
“No, but I was wondering if you do.” She moved to the side so I could see the computer screen.
The pear-shaped body and bald head were familiar, crumpled on what looked like black tar. His throat was slashed, green blood long since dried. My heart ached for the violent death of a creature who’d only ever tried to help me and had now paid the price. “Fuck,” I said. “It’s Horzt. The gnome who gave me the vampire cure and the elf scroll.”
“Carly said the word ‘traitor’ was written nearby in his blood.”
“I thought the gnomes left the city. Horzt said they were leaving.”
“Perhaps he stayed behind so his people wouldn’t be targeted for his actions,” Rufus said.
“Maybe. Where was he found?”
“Under the Lincoln Street Bridge.”
The last place I spoke with Horzt. “Then it’s definitely a message for us.” Another innocent life taken because of contact with me. “Did they find anything else at the scene? Any indication of who killed him?”
Rufus shook his head. “All we know is he was killed elsewhere. There isn’t enough blood at the scene for him to have died there.”
“So he was put there as another ‘fuck you’ to me? Nice.”
“This isn’t your fault, Stone,” Astrid said.
I snorted hard. “Yes, it is. Horzt only ever helped us, and now he’s dead.”
“He made the choice to help you. You didn’t ask him to cure the vampires’ illness. He offered it of his own free will. He had to have known the risks in going against the other Fey, so you don’t get to keep all the guilt on this one.”
“And to be honest,” Rufus added, “the fact that this is the only major incident since the mall attack is very suspicious.”
“What do you mean?” I asked.
“Usually we’re monitoring dozens of police calls about strange attacks or incidents that could be Dreg related, especially Halfies or goblins. But tonight’s been very…quiet. Considering what happened this morning at the salvage yard, it’s not like the goblins to go quiet. Not after they’ve been so active lately.”
“You think the queens are planning something?”
“It’s likely.” He pinched the bridge of his nose. “The problem is we have no way of knowing until they strike.”
I groaned. “Hey, I was all for napalming the sewers weeks ago, but you guys said it wasn’t practical.”
Rufus’s lips twitched. “It’s too bad Thackery couldn’t have put his genius to better use and developed something to kill goblins, instead of vampires.”
“Co-sign, my friend.”
Brilliant scientist that he was, Thackery let his blind hatred of the vampires color his vision against useful applications of his research. He’d tried to eradicate the wrong damned species. We’d recovered a bunch of his research materials months ago, but as far as I knew, our own brain trust hadn’t been able to piece together anything useful. Apparently he wrote a lot it down in code that no one had cracked yet.
“Do you think they’ll hit a major target like the dwarves did?” I asked.
“It’s likely,” Astrid said. “This Nessa seems quite adamant about justice for the queen you killed.”
“Yeah, well, Kelsa kidnapped and tortured me first. Killing her was the least I could do.”
“No one’s faulting you for that, Stone. We’re just being vigilant about—”
Perimeter alarms blared to life for the second time tonight.
“Now what?” I asked.
Rufus switched his monitor from the photo of Horzt to a dozen different views of the mall’s exterior. He tapped one and it blinked to life on the large bank of wall screens. Street on the south side that occasionally got car traffic. In the dull gleam of the almost-full moon’s silver light, shadows bobbed and shifted. Dozens of them.
“What is that?” Astrid said.
Three more camera views came to life, all showing the streets surrounding the mall and its expansive, weedy parking lot. The bobbing shapes were all around us, keeping back but close enough for our technology to sense them.
Rufus’s fingers flew over the keyboard in front of him. A heat sensor map of the immediate area showed hundreds of little red dots in a complete circle.
We were surrounded.
Astrid stalked to another computer and grabbed a microphone. The mall’s intercom squealed to life. “All able-bodied human and vampire residents, report to the weapons locker. Therians, be ready to shift. We have an immediate threat outside of our perimeter. This is not a drill. Repeat. This is not a drill.”
“Should we call the Coni back?” Rufus asked.
“No,” Astrid replied.
I still had my blades from earlier, so I didn’t wait around for the rest of the conversation, or instructions. Deep down I knew who was outside and why. I ran for the mall’s entrance, not surprised to find myself flanked by a dingo and a lioness—Kyle and Lynn had joined me already. They followed me past our dozens of parked vehicles, through the magical barrier wall, and out into the cold, open air of the parking lot.
Our only entrance was at the interior curve of the U-shaped mall, and a perfect boxed canyon if we let ourselves get trapped. I jogged through the lot, all the way to the end of the mall, where it opened into a wider lot.
The night was startlingly quiet given how many creatures lurked just beyond our magical perimeter. The spell compelled humans to look away from the entire lot and made it impossible for them to directly see the building. And while we’d reinforced the underground to prevent troll attacks or access via the city’s network of sewers and old bootlegger tunnels, the magic barrier was unlikely to stop a crush of goblins from swarming it at once.
Kyle loped a few feet further out, hackles raised. A low growl broke the quiet.
I palmed my blades and waited, adrenaline already coursing through me, readying me for the fight. In some ways, I’d brought this to our doorstep, but whatever went down tonight was not my fault. I never asked to be a pawn in this Fey war. I never asked to be taken by goblins and tortured to death. I never asked for any of this, and yet here I was, in the heart of it all.
Time for Nessa and her horde to finally put up or shut up.
Kismet came up beside me, decked out in chest armor and with several guns. She handed one of the armored vests to me, and I put it on. It only protected our chests and back, but considering the sharpness of goblin claws, the vest could be a lifesaver. Or at least prevent a lot of unnece
ssary bleeding.
More than two hundred warriors—human, Therian and vampire—fanned out across the west side of the parking lot, protecting the only way in or out of the Watchtower. Felia, Lupa, and Ursia waited in their true forms, better able to do battle that way. Smaller shifters like Sandburg wore vests and carried weapons.
Everyone wielding a gun moved to the front, ready to lay down opening fire the moment the goblins breached our perimeter.
At least a two dozen wounded, plus Rufus and the Lupa pups, were inside and in need of protection.
“Nothing gets inside the Watchtower,” I shouted.
In the distance, a new sound rose. Soft at first, and indistinct, but growing in pitch. Hundreds of raspy, unpracticed voices repeating the same word over and over.
Kelsa.
Our forces shifted, restless, waiting for the horde to finally engage.
No time like the present. “You want me Nessa?” I screamed to the heavens. “Then come and fucking get me!”
I swear Kismet mentally face-palmed.
It worked, though. My tether to the Break twitched and jerked as the mass of goblins surged past our protective barrier spell. Gunfire would bring police who couldn’t see what was happening in front of their faces, but bullets were our first best defense against the tide bearing down on us.
“Open fire!” I said.
The sound was deafening, a roar of bullets that joined the screams of the goblins cut down by the first volley. But they weren’t only coming at us head-on. They were flanking us, too, rounding the two department stores than anchored the U, swarming from all directions. The constant barrage of bullets was creating a kind of body wall of black and fuchsia, and soon goblins began breaking through.
Hate blasted through me. Hatred for these soulless monsters who kept attacking me and the people I loved. Hatred for my job and for having to kill, over and over. Hatred for Kelsa and Nessa and any other queen who’d sent her horde to fight us tonight.
That hate warmed my belly, surged through my limbs, and jolted me into action. The first splash of goblin blood on my hands and blades fueled me to seek out another. Flesh sliced open and monsters fell. The vest protected me as much as it tried to slow me down. Canines growled. Big cats snarled. Bears roared. The ground slicked with blood and gore.
More goblins crushed their way toward us, pushing our combined forces back into the canyon. I’d never seen so many at once. It seemed as if the sewers had opened up and vomited forth every single goblin that had ever been birthed in its filth. Their sheer numbers were slowly overwhelming us.
Claws scored my thigh. I jammed a blade deep into that goblin’s throat.
“Perimeter breach!” someone shouted.
I ran for the rear. A single goblin had gotten past us and was scampering toward the Watchtower entrance, seeming to know where it was despite the wall glamour. A shot rang out from somewhere inside the entrance, and the goblin’s head exploded.
Good.
I couldn’t see the marksman, but someone had stayed put to guard our heart.
Multiple goblins slammed into my from behind, and I face-planted on hard asphalt. Claws scraped my scalp and the back of my neck. I slashed wildly and connected with something that gave. Teeth clamped down my left hand with fiery agony. I screamed and twisted, knocking one goblin off my back while the other kept tight to my hand, ripping flesh and tendons. The third died of a gunshot, thanks to someone.
I buried my other blade in the goblin’s neck, and the fucking thing let go of my hand as it died. “Mother fucker.”
More clusters of goblins were breaking past our perimeter. Any that got within thirty feet of the entrance were cut down with very carefully aimed gunfire. Not a single wasted bullet, not a single stray that became friendly fire. I tucked my left hand close to my chest and took care of any stragglers with the single blade I had left.
A new sounded echoed from the distance—more gunshots. And more growling.
Someone had called in outside reinforcements.
Thank fuck.
If Nessa sent the full force of the goblin hordes at us expecting to win, she was going to get a nice big shock in the form of mass genocide. Part of me rebelled against the idea of being the cause of a species’ extinction. The rest of me knew the world would be a better place without any goblins in it.
Lights flashed overhead, and I finally caught the whir of a helicopter’s blades. Like they had at Olsmill so many months ago, vampire warriors dressed in black rappelled down rope lines to join the fray. A dozen new faces, somehow all packed inside a small chopper like it was a clown car.
Paul emerged from the crush of battle, his shoulders bleeding, face pasty pale. I sheathed my knife, then grabbed him around the waist with my right arm. He was still healing from some pretty bad shoulder wounds, and it looked like he’d only made them worse.
“What are you doing out here, you idiot?” I asked.
“Had to help.” His head lolled a little. I dragged his ass toward the entrance, so he could get out of the way. Whoever was inside could get him to Dr. Vansis.
“You probably pulled out every stitch put into you.”
“Probably.”
Twenty feet from our invisible entrance, a familiar disembodied voice from inside shouted, “Duck!”
We both went to our knees, and a swish of air moved above us right where our chests were a moment earlier. I rolled Paul beneath me, angled myself up so I could see what the hell was bearing down on us.
Tall and horribly thin, like a small woman stretched out like taffy, a snarling goblin queen loomed over me. I kicked out, but she dodged my foot, crazy fast just like Kelsa had been. She was also smart enough to keep low and keep us between herself and the invisible man with the gun.
Where the hell had she come from, though?
She lashed out with a long, twisted piece of metal that looked like a giant corkscrew. I blocked her with my right forearm, and without really thinking, smashed my left hand into her throat. White fire shot up my arm from my already damaged hand. She gurgled and stumbled. I felt for my tether and it snapped tight. Pulled on my emotion tap of loneliness—not hard to find without Wyatt fighting by my side—and then pictured the open interior of the parking area.
Paul yelled, not prepared to find himself flying apart, surging through the Break, and coming back together a dozen yards away.
I rolled to my knees, my head throbbing, sick to my stomach from the pain in my hand.
“You two with me?”
I turned toward the voice and nearly fell over. Rufus was dead center in the entrance, wheelchair locked, with a sniper rifle in his hands. He was the one who’d spoken, but he wasn’t alone. To the left, using the wall for support, Milo stood with another rifle tucked up against his shoulder.
“She came down the wall,” Milo said. “Bitch must have climbed up and over while we were distracted out front.”
Wow. A goblin with a tactical plan. Who knew?
“Stay here,” I said to Paul as I stood on shaky legs.
He gave me a thumbs up.
I stumbled over to Rufus and peered out. Nessa was gone. “What the hell? Are female goblins closeted rock climbers, or something?”
“No idea,” Rufus said. “But she was up the mall wall the moment you teleported.”
“Great.”
The fight was still going strong near the mouth of the U, with fewer goblins escaping our line of defense. Milo and Rufus took turns picking them off. I waited with them, refusing to go with Dr. Vansis when he came to collect Paul. My mostly useless left hand meant I was more of a liability out there now, but I hated doing nothing while others fought.
Until Alejandro broke from the line, limping and bleeding from half a dozen places. He inched along the mall wall, no weapons on him that I could see. The kid was young and needed way more field training, but I had to give him a gold star for trying. He also had a long way to go to get back here for medical treatment.
Witho
ut thinking, I found my tether and slipped into the Break. The second teleport left me crazy dizzy, but I grabbed him and said, “Hold on tight.”
His surprised yelp faded as we both teleported back into the garage. I caught him as he fell, alarmed at all of the bleeding wounds on his neck and legs. My stomach threatened to up-end, but I applied pressure as best I could.
“What did we do?” he asked.
“Magic.” He was fading. “Hold on, kiddo, help is on the way.”
“Wanted to help.”
“Yeah? How many did you kill?”
His lips quirked. “Not enough.”
I smiled. “Good answer.”
Footsteps thundered down the corridor toward us. I looked up, expecting Dr. Vansis, and instead saw Mark and Peter running toward me.
“What are you doing here?” I snapped.
“We want to help,” Peter said. “Please, we can help.”
I did not want those pups anywhere near the fighting. “Fine, carry Alejandro here to the infirmary.”
They jumped to action. Peter grabbed Alejandro around the shoulders, while Mark grabbed his thighs. Despite their wiry frames, the boys were strong, and they moved fast.
“And here I didn’t think anything else could surprise me today,” I said, mostly to myself.
“Bite your tongue,” Milo snapped.
I stood, shaky and woozy, and boy howdy my head wanted to explode, but Nessa was still out there. This wasn’t over yet. I palmed my blade again and stumbled closer to the open entrance, half-expecting Nessa to drop down in the center of it at any moment.
More of our wounded began to break away from the fighting.
“Don’t even think about it,” Rufus said. “You’re one person, Stone. You can’t teleport them all.”
I glared at him.
“Use a van,” Milo said. “It’s a hundred feet. Drive them back.”
“I don’t have a license.” Okay, as far as stupid, pain-brain things to say, that was a good one. “And one-handed?”
