Shadows Strike

by Dianne Duvall

Good. He hadn’t woken her.

  The light behind the peephole darkened. The rattling of bolts being turned and a chain being removed preceded the opening of the front door.

  Heather peered up at him. “Ethan. Hi.”

  “Hi.” He smiled. She was as beautiful as he remembered. It had been hell, trying to stay away. He had only made it two weeks before he had given in and come to see her. He knew he shouldn’t lure Heather into his world, especially with Chris Reordon waiting in the wings to recruit her, but . . . he had been unable to stop thinking about her.

  “What are you doing here?” she asked and looked past him. Not the friendly, flirty response he had hoped for.

  His gaze drifted beyond her. Did she have a guest? A male guest?

  His hackles rose. “Are you alone?”

  “Yes.”

  But she neither opened the door wider nor welcomed him inside.

  Had he read things wrong with her?

  “I was just hunting nearby,” he began.

  Alarm swept across her features. “Hunting vampires? You saw more vampires hanging around?”

  “No,” he hastened to assure her. “No. You’re safe, Heather.”

  She didn’t relax. Nor did she stop visually searching the yard behind him.

  “I meant I was hunting in the area and . . . was passing by on my way home and just thought I’d . . .” He rubbed the back of his neck and sighed. “Ah, hell. I suck at this.”

  “Suck at what?”

  “I wasn’t hunting nearby,” he admitted. “I was hunting forty miles away. But I can’t stop thinking about you and wanted to see you again.” Bending, he retrieved what he hoped she would see as a romantic gesture. When he straightened, he held a newspaper in one hand and a stainless steel coffeepot in the other. He offered her a sheepish smile. “It seemed like a good idea at the time.”

  Heather bit her lip. And he did think he saw a little Aww, how sweet enter her pretty brown eyes.

  Stepping closer, he leaned against the door frame opposite her. “I’m afraid I don’t really know how to do this.”

  He heard her heartbeat pick up. “Do what?”

  “Date. I haven’t tried to court a woman in about a century. I don’t know how to get things going and can’t ask Ed or he’ll never let me live it down.” Damned if he didn’t feel like a teenager with his first crush.

  Her throat moved in a swallow. “You want to date me?”

  “If dating you means spending lots of time with you, getting to know you, and exploring every inch of your delectable body as soon as you’re ready to take things further, then yes. I really want to date you.” He held up his goodies. “I remembered your neighbor with the newspaper analogy and . . .” He released a rueful chuckle. “As I said, I don’t know what I’m doing. I don’t even like coffee. I just liked the idea of it and wanted to see you again.”

  “Oh, Ethan. It’s perfect.”

  His heart leapt.

  “But I really wish you hadn’t come.” Stepping back, Heather opened the door.

  Disappointment struck. “Why?” He had been so sure she’d felt the same spark.

  She brought the hand he hadn’t realized she had been hiding behind her back around and raised a Walther PPQ 9mm. “Because I dreamed you would.”

  As Ethan gaped down at her, she pulled the trigger.

  The coffeepot Ethan held clattered to the floor as he jerked his head to one side and ducked the bullet Heather fired.

  Just as she had dreamed every night for a week, vampires poured from the foliage that bordered her front yard.

  Heather squeezed the trigger again and again, striking vampires in the chest to slow them down, then hitting them in the major arteries.

  Ethan swore and drew two sais. “Get inside!” he shouted as he turned and tore into the vampires who made it to the front porch.

  “It won’t do any good!” She ejected her empty magazine, drew another from the substantial pile she had stacked on the table just inside the door, slammed it home, and advanced the first bullet into the chamber.

  “The hell it won’t!”

  Warm blood slapped Heather in the face as Ethan’s blade slid across the throat of a vampire determined to get past him. Gasping, she wiped her eyes and mouth with her sleeve and fired her Walther. Again and again and again until she’d emptied the magazine.

  One of Ethan’s large hands, still curled around the grip of a sai, touched her chest and gave her a shove.

  As Heather stumbled backward, he caught the door with two fingers and swung it closed, shutting himself outside with over a dozen vampires. “Call Chris! His number is on the contract you signed!”

  Heather tripped and landed on her ass with a curse. Scrambling to her feet, she lunged for the table and grabbed another magazine. A vampire crashed through one of the front windows as she slammed the full mag home and racked the slide.

  Glowing blue eyes turned her way as the vampire picked himself up off her floor and flashed deadly fangs.

  “Oh shit.” Heather fired her 9mm before the vamp had the foresight to leap forward.

  Crimson liquid sprayed from his jugular, splattering the walls and floor and furniture as he brought his hands up to his throat and staggered around the room.

  A second vampire catapulted himself through the window. Then a third.

  Outside, Ethan swore. “Heather!”

  “I’m okay!” she shouted. “Just stay out there!”

  Please, stay out there, she silently entreated as she emptied her magazine into the vampires, ejected it, and slammed another full mag home.

  Adrenaline—fueled by pure panic—flooded Ethan’s veins, lending him even greater strength and speed. He didn’t fear for his own safety. He feared for Heather’s, knowing what would undoubtedly happen to her if he didn’t live.

  How many fucking vampires were there? Two dozen? Three?

  Where were they all coming from? And why the fuck were they there?

  He had lost count of the number he had struck down, but the bodies shriveling up at his feet began to pile up enough to trip the vampires clamoring toward him. Were his back not up against the house, Ethan would not have survived an attack by so many. The fact that the vampires could only come at him from three directions instead of four helped, but Ethan was a young immortal. Not as powerful as the elders. The odds of him defeating this many vampires were slim to none.

  A fourth vampire dove through the front window.

  Ethan swore and hurled a sai at a fifth who sought to follow, nailing him in the heart. Palming one of the many daggers inside his coat, Ethan continued to fight and wished like hell he were telepathic and could call out to Seth or Zach or any immortal nearby to come to his aid.

  Gunshots resumed inside. Two bullets burst from the wood to Ethan’s left and embedded themselves in one of the vampires he fought. Ethan hoped like hell Heather wouldn’t accidentally shoot him while she fended off the vamp inside.

  The sound of glass shattering warned Ethan that vampires had found another way in.

  Why were they so intent on getting to Heather? What the hell?

  Kicking open the door behind him, Ethan backed inside. “Heather?”

  “I told you to stay outside!” she shouted, steadily firing her weapon.

  A vampire rushing in from the back of the house dropped.

  Ethan kept backing up until he was within a few feet of Heather. Close enough, he hoped, to help her fend off the steady stream of vampires intent on reaching her.

  Another window shattered, behind them this time.

  Heather grunted.

  Heart stopping, Ethan sliced at his two foremost opponents and spun around.

  A vampire had come up behind Heather and locked his arms around her. As Ethan turned, the vampire lowered his head and buried his fangs in her neck.

  Heather cried out. Pain and tears filled the brown eyes that met and held his.

  A vampire’s bite didn’t generate the erotic pleasure found in so ma
ny movies and books. Instead, it would have felt like someone had just stabbed Heather with two large needles.

  As Ethan took a step toward her, she jerked the hand holding her weapon up, pressed the barrel to the vampire’s forehead, and fired.

  “No!” Ethan roared, afraid the vamp would tear her throat out.

  The vampire’s head jerked. Abandoning his hold on her, he stumbled back a step and raised a hand to the hole in his forehead.

  Heather turned to face him and shot the vampire again. And again. Until he dropped.

  Agony streaked through Ethan’s right side as a vampire’s blade pierced it. Another blade sliced across his left hamstring. Growling in pain, he staggered forward and turned to again swing his blades at the bastards.

  A fucking machete cut across his stomach.

  Ethan’s speed slowed. His strength began to wane as blood poured from his wounds.

  He needed to end this. Now. Or he wouldn’t be able to. Not with the wounds he was racking up and the blood he was losing.

  Ethan did his damnedest to push the vampires back, away from Heather, who somehow managed to remain lucid enough to aid him, firing her weapon whenever he didn’t block her aim.

  Beneath the steady barrage of her bullets and Ethan’s blades, the vampires’ numbers began to dwindle. Soon Ethan found himself fighting the last three vampires.

  His breath came in short gasps, each feeling like a blade burying itself in his chest. He swung his sai, struck a femoral artery. Threw a dagger, pierced a brachial artery.

  One vampire down. Two more to go.

  Barely able to remain upright, Ethan heard Heather’s 9mm fall silent after a series of clicks. Was she out of magazines?

  Her gun sailed over his shoulder and struck a vampire in the forehead.

  Ethan would take that as a yes.

  One of the vampires who faced Ethan nearly matched him in height. The other was several inches shorter. Both, thanks to the many injuries Ethan now sported, surpassed him in speed and strength.

  As Ethan fended off the attack of the taller vampire, the other one left his peripheral vision. The taller vamp’s blade cut across Ethan’s chest half a second before Ethan cut the vampire’s throat.

  A weight struck Ethan’s back. Stumbling forward, he turned . . . and felt his heart stop.

  Heather stared up at him with eyes full of pain, the tip of a long blade sticking out of her stomach.

  The second vampire had circled around to come up behind Ethan and Heather . . .

  She must have thrown herself between them to keep the vampire from stabbing him.

  “What have you done?” he whispered, horror stealing what breath remained in his body.

  The vampire behind her directed a smile full of malice at Ethan over her shoulder, then yanked the blade out of her.

  Heather screamed.

  Ethan dropped his dagger and wrapped an arm around her as her knees buckled and she crumpled toward the floor. Fear and fury flowed through him, battling for dominance even as they lent him strength. Roaring his rage, Ethan swung at the vamp with his sai, limping forward, Heather still clutched to him, forcing the vampire back.

  That malicious smile fled as the vampire stumbled over one of his fallen companions.

  Ethan struck a killing blow, then struck another and another until the vampire fell to the floor and breathed his last breath.

  Panting, Ethan wrapped the arm wielding the sai around Heather and held her close. Tried to listen for more vampires over his own labored breathing.

  No sounds came to him from outside the house. Even the insects and nocturnal animals had been silenced by the violence.

  Afraid to trust his senses—they sure as hell hadn’t warned him that a couple dozen vampires hid in the damned bushes earlier—Ethan backed into a far corner of the living room, away from the windows, knelt, and lowered Heather to the floor.

  “Heather?” A crimson stain spread rapidly across the front of her T-shirt as more blood pooled on the wood floor beneath her.

  Ethan tore the material open and examined the ragged hole in her abdomen. Had the vamp severed her abdominal aorta? Ripping the rest of her shirt off, he wadded half of the soft cotton into a ball and pressed it to the wound, then wadded the other half up and tucked it beneath her back.

  She moaned. Her eyelids fluttered, then opened. Dazed brown eyes rolled around, then struggled to focus on his face.

  Ethan set his sai on the floor beside him and drew his cell phone from his back pocket with a hand that shook. “Shh. Just lie still. Everything’s going to be okay.”

  “Hurts,” she whispered.

  “I know it does, honey.” He dialed Seth’s number, brought the phone to his ear. “Why did you do it?” he asked her while it rang. “Why did you throw yourself between us like that? I’m immortal. Stabbing won’t kill me.”

  “C-couldn’t let him . . .” she wheezed as blood stained her lips cherry red.

  “Heather?” he called as she seemed to fade. “Heather, I need you to stay with me, honey. Can you do that? Just stay with me a little longer and I promise I’ll bring you coffee and a newspaper every night until you grow to hate the damned drink.”

  “Yes?” Seth answered.

  “Seth,” Ethan nearly shouted with relief. “I need you. Now.”

  Seth appeared a few feet away. As soon as he saw Ethan and Heather, he rushed forward and knelt beside them, pocketing his phone.

  “She’s lost a lot of blood,” Ethan told him as Seth nudged Ethan’s hand aside and peeled back the wadded-up T-shirt. “She was bitten by a vamp, then was run through with a blade.”

  More blood welled and spread out to pool in her belly button.

  Seth splayed a large hand on her pale, slick stomach. His hand began to glow.

  Heather hissed in a breath and stiffened. Her legs moved restlessly on the floor as though she wished to scoot away from Seth.

  Ethan took one of her hands in his and leaned down until his face hovered just above hers. “It’s okay,” he murmured. “Just look at me, Heather. Focus on me and it’ll be over in a minute. I promise.”

  Her eyes opened and clung to his. Her fingers tightened to the point of pain.

  Ethan could feel the heat radiating from Seth’s hand as he worked.

  Then Heather’s grip loosened. Her shoulders relaxed. The tension in her face eased. But she didn’t look away. Not until her eyelids grew heavy and closed, her head rolling to one side.

  Seth sat back. “I healed her wounds, but she isn’t out of the woods yet. She needs blood. A lot of it. We need to take her to the network.”

  Ethan didn’t hesitate to gather her into his arms. When he rose, the pain of his own wounds rushed back, sweeping over him like a tidal wave. He staggered and would have lost his balance if Seth hadn’t grabbed his arm to steady him.

  “Give her to me,” Seth ordered, concern darkening his features.

  “No,” Ethan growled through the pain.

  Seth opted not to argue.

  Heather’s living room darkened, then vanished, replaced by the bright lights of the network’s infirmary.

  The network’s empty infirmary. Where the hell was everyone?

  Ethan opened his mouth and drew in a breath to bellow for help, but ended up grunting when his ribs and lungs protested.

  “Melanie,” Seth spoke in a normal voice. “We have an emergency in the infirmary.”

  Melanie rushed through the doorway. “What’s up?”

  “Miss Lane needs a blood transfusion. Chris probably has her blood type on file.”

  “Put her there.” Melanie pointed to a hospital bed, then rushed away in a preternatural blur of motion.

  Dimly, Ethan was aware of her speaking in the background, probably consulting Chris, as Ethan limped over to the bed and carefully deposited Heather atop the covers.

  A breeze ruffled his hair as Melanie zipped up beside him and set up an IV in record time. Blood slithered its way down a tube and into Heath
er’s arm.

  Seth curled a hand around Ethan’s biceps and gently drew him back. “I can’t heal you while you’re touching her.”

  Ethan released Heather’s hand with great reluctance.

  Seth flattened his other palm on Ethan’s chest.

  Heat flowed into Ethan and spread to his head, fingers, and toes. He gritted his teeth as broken bones shifted back into position and fused together. Wounds closed. Punctures sealed themselves. And, at last, the pain abandoned him.

  He sighed with relief.

  Seth patted his back, then withdrew his touch. “What happened?”

  Ethan reached over and reclaimed Heather’s hand. “Heather threw herself between me and a vampire to keep him from stabbing me.”

  Melanie glanced at them. “Is it okay if I hear this? I need to remain here for a bit. I’m not liking her vitals, and I want to make sure—”

  “Of course,” Seth assured her.

  Ethan again felt panic rise. “I thought she was going to be okay.”

  “She will be,” Seth promised, all calm assurance. “Once her blood volume returns to normal, she’ll be fine. Now tell me what those vampires were doing at her home. And in such large numbers.”

  “I don’t know,” Ethan said, baffled. “The rain completely eradicated the scent of our skirmish a couple of weeks ago. I checked twice to be sure. So they couldn’t have come looking for the others or seeking retribution and followed the scent to her door. Yet . . . Heather lives far enough from town that I just can’t believe it was a coincidence. Two vampire attacks in a half-mile radius out in the sticks?”

  Seth crossed his arms over his chest. “What were you doing there?”

  “I was . . .” Ethan fought the urge to shuffle his feet. “I was . . . Ah, hell. I was trying to date her.”

  He saw Melanie glance at Seth from the corner of her eye.

  “Could they have followed you there?” Seth asked, no condemnation in his tone.

  “Not at the speeds I was driving.” Unease trickled through Ethan. “It was odd, though. Nothing tipped me off that they were there. I didn’t see a single blade of grass flattened by a shoe that would’ve indicated that one or more of them had crossed her front yard. Didn’t see a broken branch or dislodged leaves that would’ve told me someone hid in the bushes. And you know—with my gift—I wouldn’t have missed visual clues like that. I didn’t hear their heartbeats. If they didn’t arrive until after I did, I didn’t hear them approach. Didn’t hear footsteps. Didn’t smell them either.”