The bat tried to encase her, but burned it’s wing the instant it made contact with her wings.
“Come to me, Sabrina!” Jackson yelled when she saw the thing’s grip loosen. “Hover to me. Now. Hurry!”
Sabrina was able to free one arm, which she used to hold off the bat’s fox-like head. Her defense only lasted a moment before it tilted its body and snapped its jaws down on her wrist.
“God no…” Jackson could not help but flinch when he heard her howl in pain; he knew what a broken wrist felt like.
She drifted slowly backward, the motion similar to a drunkard’s stumble. Jackson realized in that moment, as she began to drop, that she was no longer in the updraft.
His brain suddenly clicked. “Weston.”
He could see what needed to be done. It was all so clear, and when he put his eyes, his full attention, and his determination on his target, what he saw seemed perfectly possible.
“Weston, help me get it off her!”
Jackson closed his eyes and imagined Weston reaching out to the bat. Squeeze tight. Yes, the fur, the squirming musculature—all there in your grasp. Jackson opened his eyes and he watched Sabrina suddenly come free of the monstrous thing. She kicked her legs, distancing herself further from it. Great work, Weston. But he could not see the air spirit and wasn’t sure where he was.
However, Jackson was sure of one thing, Sabrina was out of the updraft now; the air no longer flipped her hair around and the strain of flapping her wings was evident on her face.
“Fuck you! Fuck you! Fuck you!” she screamed as she amped up her wings again.
Jackson’s adrenaline suddenly surged. He was certain that, if Sabrina released another blast like before, it would not only burn what remained of his clothing right off him and char his skin, but possibly kill him. Once more, a solution formed clearly in his head.
He knelt down and covered his eyes as he imagined a wall between him and Sabrina, a shield that would protect him. He had applied similar tactics when skating on the ice before he collided with opponents. He knew there was merit in such strength of will, but this felt different—his thoughts—his idea—they felt foreign. The heat will not touch you.
Weston, he thought, I hope that’s you in my head.
He saw the flash from Sabrina’s wings through his tightly clenched eyes, but he did not feel the heat. The breeze had changed; it blew at his back now, which meant it would push Sabrina further away from the cliff. Further away from the updraft.
Jackson stood and reopened his eyes. Ash spread through the air where the large bat had been. Sabrina had triumphed, but she was not looking well at all. The glow from her wings was weak and her arms had dropped lifelessly to her sides.
“Fly to me, Sabrina. Quick, fly to me.”
She looked up and acknowledged him with a nod, but her eyes rolled back in her head before she could flap her wings again.
“No…” Jackson ran to the limits of the ledge as Sabrina began to plummet. “No!”
He wished that the winds would shift again, blow her back into the powerful updraft and up to the ledge. He dropped to his knees and leaned over the edge to see where she was when a gust of air knocked him backward. As he stood, another gust forced him to take several steps back and before he could move, Sabrina’s unconscious body blew up and over the ledge, right into him.
“Weston, you did it!”
Jackson opened his arms to catch her. The force of her fall sent him crashing down and rattled his bones, but he didn’t care. All that mattered was that she was alive—and when he felt Sabrina draw a breath, her chest pressed to his, he wrapped his arms around her and hugged her tight.
“I got you. I got you, Sabrina. I got you.”
Evening the Playing Field
Everything takes twice as long when I travel in a group, Cade thought. I could’ve made this trip in less than two nights alone on my bike doing a hundred the whole way. But no…we had to drop off Dolby in the opposite direction, we had to stop and repair the radiator, and we’ve had to stop to feed…multiple times. Ludicrous.
Cade lost his patience.
Still several hours from Moselle’s home, at a rest stop in the San Bernardino National Forest, the group awaited nightfall and a stray camper to make their meal. But Cade could no longer wait for the sun to set. Sabrina was out there, in danger, and he had to help her.
Cade had shouted. He’d growled and thrown things. He’d let his anger control him; it was what the others needed to see to snap to.
That was an hour ago; now Cade sat silently in the passenger seat of the cargo truck. Although it was late in the day, and the sun fell fast, the sunlight was bright and intense. Dusk was a dangerous time for a vampire to be out, let alone operating a vehicle, but it was no normal vehicle that Nicodemus drove.
In the mid 1980s, Cade and Nicodemus had bought the M54 at auction. They’d repaired the old Vietnam War-era cargo truck and installed it with a few vampire-friendly upgrades, the most important being photochromic glass that blocked 100 percent of the harmful UVA and UVB rays. Cade was especially proud of this, as many of his clan mates had, up until then, considered him mostly unintelligent. In fact, they had considered all Americans unintelligent.
The differences in their backgrounds were hard to deny. Dunyasha was from old world Russia. Petar, Nico, and Natalia all survived the Russian Revolution and bore witness to the formation of the Soviet Union. Even the Twins and the Bloke were European. Only Leanne and Cade were American born, and being so often made them outcasts in their unnatural family.
Cade was well aware his was not the only clan that suffered insecurities. Paranoia and emergent tensions, unstable governments, and closed borders—all these things made it hard for his kind to travel freely through the years. By the early 1960s, most vampires had returned to the lands of their birthplace. Not you and I, Cade thought as he looked at Nico’s stern face. American and Russian born, we put aside the differences, ignored the risks, and did what we did best—we went to war.
The Korean War, the Vietnam War, the Soviet War in Afghanistan—they’d fought in each. It was after the Invasion of Grenada in 1983, when they’d ended up in Mexico and then crossed the border into America, that they’d decided to stay put. They’d gotten lost in New Mexico, but Leanne had sensed them and left the life she’d created to seek them out. She was why they’d discovered the caves.
Cade peered back at Leanne; he knew how to read her. He had had lots of practice. At the moment, she seemed content with Joe on her lap, but he knew she had a lot on her mind.
The caves made her miserable; they always had. She hated being surrounded by dirt, the way it got in her hair and under her nails. Cade watched her hands as she petted Joe and remembered a time when he made her happy.
Cade and Leanne stood on the sidewalk of a cul-du-sac in a quiet suburban neighborhood. They were surrounded by four, two-story buildings, each of which were subdivided into four homes.
“Long Beach, California. The site of the Los Angeles Air Raid of 1942,” Cade stated a factoid. “Your place here comes highly recommended, Mister—”
The handsome Egyptian man who greeted them bowed and waved his hand with a flourish. “Rehuerdjersen. You, my new friends, may call me Rue.”
Cade eyed the man; his pockets looked heavy but not with weapons; Cade suspected with wealth.
“A buddy of mine in Vietnam, he used to rent from you. He liked to brag about how quiet and safe it was to live here.”
“Was he like you?” Rue asked.
Cade nodded. “He was.”
“Oh? You must forgive me, his name escapes me.”
“Wade Collins. KIA. Hit with a spike trap that should have gotten me.”
“My deepest condolences,” Rue said with a bow.
Cade didn’t want to speak of it anymore; the memory pained him. “Leanne read your contract, and the terms are acceptable, even the special ones.”
“Your woman is wise. I think you will—”
<
br /> “Just one question.”
Rue smiled. “I am well aware of how your kind does not always find peace with the others. Let me assure you, no werewolves live in my homes. They are…well…too destructive.”
Cade looked a Leanne. Her smile was even larger now.
“That’s good. Very good. But if you don’t mind me asking…just what would our neighbors be?”
“Cade don’t be rude,” Leanne whispered.
“No. No. No. I understand,” Rue said and then faced the building with the empty apartment. “The neighbor to your left is a gargoyle. A silent man, he loves to watch movies. The neighbors to your right are a pair of elves, Aster and Lilly—a young married couple like yourself. She is six months pregnant and—”
Leanne giggled.
“We ain’t married, Rue.”
“I beg your forgiveness.” Rue bowed. “Might I make a suggestion then?”
“Sure.”
Rue pointed to the last townhouse in his building. “Stay away from the harpy who lives at the end there. She is quite opinionated and finds great opposition to those who ‘live in sin.’”
Cade flashed a toothy grin. “Rue, living in sin is all we vampires know. So, who else makes up this freak show?”
Leanne nudged him.
“Two homes are rented to gnomes, one is filled with pixies, another with a being made entirely of thick, acrid smoke. He is also very silent.”
“Really? An air spirit?” Cade asked.
“That was my assumption too, but he vehemently disagrees with that title,” Rue said and then pointed at another home which was pitch-black with no lights on whatsoever. “Lastly, that home is rented to another creature of the night. She has been gone for a long, long while. I am merely keeping her home safe and ready for her return.”
“Cade?” Leanne prompted. “Can we?”
He nodded. “Rue, everything seems on the up and up. I think this will be perfectly fine.”
“I am pleased to hear that, my new friend. If you have the deposit you may move right in tonight.”
“We do, sir,” Leanne stated, as she handed him a satchel filled with money.
“Good then, here is your key. Enjoy.”
Leanne took the key and ran to the door. While she unlocked it, Cade turned to Rue and said, “You know, you don’t look much like a mummy.”
Rue chuckled, and when he spoke again, his accent seemed deeper. “We prefer to be called cursed undead.”
“Yeah, and I prefer life challenged.”
Rue smiled, bowed, and began to walk off. “If you need anything, feel free to ask, but remember, I have limited nighttime hours. Oh, yes, and if you want to make a fast friend, do offer to return your neighbor’s videotapes for him.”
“Return his videotapes?”
“If not in trade for his friendship, then for his services.” Rue smiled. “You know the old saying. There is no better sleep than the sleep had with a gargoyle watching over you. Good night, my new friend.”
Cade looked around; it was nice and quiet here. He had a good feeling about his decision. This city, this place: it made the perfect headquarters—far enough away from the caves to keep any attention off of them and close enough to make runs back and forth.
“Cade!” Leanne called out. “Would you carry me in like we’re newlyweds?”
“Of course, Leanne.”
“And then make love to me?” she asked shyly.
“All night long.”
While Cade fondly gazed back at Leanne, he saw Joe suddenly perk up. The slime’s abruptness made a chill run down his spine.
“Oh shit,” Joe grumbled, his dog ears turned back.
“What Joe? What?”
“Oh, pally…I just got some news. What do you want first, good or bad?” Joe asked with a shake of his body, nose to tail.
Cade looked at Nico, who looked back.
“Bad,” Nicodemus said.
“Good,” Cade said.
“Well, the good news is, Sabrina’s alive and well,” Joe reported.
As soon as Cade heard that, he knew the bad news was going to really upset him. “And the bad news, Joe?”
“The bad news is that we all know where she is now.”
“What do you mean?” Cade asked suspiciously. “What do you mean we all know?”
“Oh man…” Joe replied. “This is bad. This is really, really bad.”
“What?” Cade was overcome with the same scent he’d smelled in the hospital.
“Pollution’s here,” Joe said before he jumped off Leanne’s lap and ran behind her legs. “Buckle up!”
Stretched across the street in front of them was a giant oil slick and it spread, churned, and bubbled.
“Prabl’Em”5 was all Nico said before he hit the brakes.
Cade reached for his seat belt but it wasn’t there. The truck began to slide and turned sideways. As the weight shifted, it started to tip in Cade’s direction. All of his senses suddenly felt heightened. He heard Nicodemus swear, an old Russian curse he had not heard the old man spit since Stalingrad. Natalia yelled—not words, just a noise. Leanne screamed for help and Joe… Cade could have sworn he heard him praying.
There was a moment, when the truck tilted that Cade thought it might fall back to its wheels, bounce on its tires, and come to a screeching halt. But the truck was heavy, and gravity soon took over, the vehicle dropping hard.
The impact felt like he had been body slammed by a titan. It rattled his head, blackened his vision, and punched the taste out of his mouth. He heard glass shatter and chime as it spilled all around him; the sun would come in now.
There was still motion—sideways and backward. Cade felt heat. Was it the sun or fire? There was no scent of smoke.
“Nico!” he called out. “Nico!”
Cool air blew over his head. He reached up; there was seemingly nothing above him so he waved his arm around in search of something to grasp. Still nothing. Cade’s eyes blinked open suddenly and he saw the truck; he was no longer inside it.
“Holy smokes.”
Cade took in the sight; the M54 was on its side, the windshield was gone, and it’s tires, the ones on the ground at least, were blown. Cade’s pants were torn and stained red with blood, and he was missing a boot. He looked around and spotted it halfway back to the truck, which was lying in the middle of the street a good fifty feet from where he was.
He looked up, and saw the sun had almost set and he wondered if he’d been knocked out.
“Nico?”
Cade had a head rush. He hadn’t felt this way in years, not since he was nearly blown up in Afghanistan. When he went to take a step, he realized he was injured—his ankle was broken. There was pain but not enough to keep him from moving. He had to make sure everyone else was okay.
“Nico?” he called out as he hobbled forward. “Leanne? Natalia?”
As Cade approached the truck, he began to sway. He shook his head and kept on. It felt like the world around him wobbled. How bad am I injured? I need to feed… I never should’ve made everyone leave before feeding…
When Cade reached the driver’s side he peered in through the broken glass. Nicodemus looked like he was asleep, strapped in his seat, hanging there at the top of the cab.
“Kak dela?”6 Cade asked.
“Ni znaju.”7
“We have to get you out of there, Nico. Can you move?”
“Da.”
“Good. Can you help me, help you?” Cade asked. “My head’s spinning, feels like everything is moving. Like I’m standing on a ship in rough waters.”
Nico unfastened his seatbelt and when he did, he tumbled down and almost rolled out of the front of the truck. Cade took his arm and pulled him through the missing windshield, but before he got the old man upright, the earth shook like a bomb had been dropped.
The two men were enveloped by a thick cloud of dirt and dust.
“What now?” Cade coughed.
Leanne screamed. “Cade! Nicodem
us!”
“Leanne, stay calm.” He waved the cloudy air out of his face. “We’ll be there in a moment.”
“I—I’m stuck, Cade… and—and Natalia, she ain’t moving.”
“Nico, what just hit us?” Cade asked. “Felt like a—”
“FAB-250?” Nicodemus offered a guess. “Afghanistan.”
“My thoughts exactly,” Cade said as the dust cleared, “but I swear there was something else…”
Nico pointed up, and Cade watched the old man’s face turn to stone. He knew that look.
“Incoming!” Nico shouted.
Cade saw it: a black ball that was easily three times the size of the truck’s cab. He scrambled to his feet and dashed toward Nicodemus, who stumbled around the truck.
“Run, Nico! Run!”
The black mass obliterated the front end of the truck. The impact creating a shockwave of air and debris that slammed into the two. Cade smashed face-first into the roof of the truck, while Nico tumbled to the ground.
“Cade!” Leanne screamed. “Cade!”
“Damn it, man, stop gawking and help,” Joe growled as he pulled Natalia from the wreckage by her sleeve.
“Do you have her?” Cade asked, shaking his head to fight off the burgeoning images of war in his mind.
“Pal, I’m not fifty slimes here. It’s taken all I got just to inch her arm out the side.”
“Nico, get Natalia!” Cade ordered. “Okay?”
“Da.” Nico dusted himself off and ran to help.
“We’re lucky the whole damn thing didn’t blow,” Cade said to Nico.
“What whole damn thing?” Joe asked curiously.
Cade peered around the front of the truck, what was left of it, which was not much. The black mass had spread out on the ground. He could see it now. It wasn’t a bomb that had struck them; it was a fist and now it gripped the ground and the truck’s engine underneath it while it dug its fingers deep into the asphalt.
“It’s a hand!” He pointed as Nicodemus moved past him with Natalia in his arms.
“Not even fully formed,” Joe added from below. “Buddy, you better hurry.”
Two Polluted Black-Heart Romances Page 24
