by Amie Gibbons
“He could be the demon,” Quil snapped.
“No, because Ariana would’ve sensed that because the demon wouldn’t have the same powers to block her like that,” Grant said, giving me a look.
“Touch him again, Ariana, just to make sure,” Quil said.
“We need to get going,” Grant said. “We don’t have time for him to clean off. We’ve been in here too long already.”
He gave me another look I couldn’t interpret. What was going on here?
“Grant, it couldn’t hurt,” I said, but he shook his head.
“That’s an order, Ryder,” he said, not unkindly, or even really demandin’. It was mere fact.
“Yes, General.”
Quil and Grant shared a look.
“That’s it then?” Quil snapped, so harsh I jumped, a twinge breakin’ through the cold in my chest.
“Every single time he says jump, you listen!”
“Why are you yelling at me?” I asked. “He’s my boss, Quil. And if he says don’t do it, he has his reasons. Now seriously, we shouldn’t be back here any longer than we need to be.”
“I tell you there is something wrong with this man, your boss says don’t even have him wash to check because it might take a few more seconds, and you listen to him over me?”
Quil tossed his hands up and swept out of the bathroom. Rules about not going anywhere alone be damned.
“Quil!” I yelled as the door swung shut.
What the hell just happened?
“About damn time,” Dan said.
“Don’t start, Bridges,” Grant said, laying a hand on my shoulder.
“Start what, General?” Dan sneered. “This?”
He pulled out a gun and aimed it at me as his face and body shrank and softened into mine.
Grant pushed me behind him, whippin’ out his gun almost as fast as a vamp could move.
I pulled my gun and knife again.
“You just needed Quil to leave,” I said. “How did you know he would?”
“I didn’t,” she said in my voice, shruggin’ my shrug. “I thought I’d have to take you all. Still, won’t waste an opportunity. Silly boys, getting so jealous.”
Quil’s soooo not the jealous type.
“After I kill you,” she said, my own voice mocking me, “I’m going to take your little pet vampire back home and he’s going to die very slowly.”
Why wasn’t she shooting at us already?
Not that I wanted her to, but it would make more sense than mindless chitchat.
“So start shooting,” I said. “We’ll see who’s faster.”
“Any kind of fight, even two against one, would cause a ruckus,” Irish said.
So that’s why she was waiting. She didn’t want Quil to hear the gun.
Grant turned his gun on Irish.
Wait, what!
“Now, now, Grant,” Irish said. “You can’t kill me without setting her free,” Irish said.
“What?” I gasped, stomach droppin’ as metal coated my tongue. I couldn’t feel my knees and wet streaked down my cheek.
Not Irish.
“I thought you said you knew who the summoner was, you had a vision?” Grant asked.
“I saw you swap the hairs, I just put it together that it was Crowley after he attacked! Why is he saying it’s him?”
“Because it was,” Irish said. “I didn’t even know Crowley was also hired. Grant, I don’t need to kill you, just her. You can go.”
“Not going to happen,” Grant said.
“Why?” I asked Irish.
He was my friend. We’d practicing dancing for nearly a year. We’d hung out at his house. How could he be a traitor?
No. It was some kind of trick, like there were two demons. I would’ve known if he was a traitor all this time.
“Sorry, Ariana, I can’t defy a direct order. I have to kill you and Quil.” Irish really did look sorry.
“Order?” I asked, mind swimmin’.
He eyed the guns warily as his fangs slid out.
Fangs!
“How?” I asked.
“The cologne and my magic kept it hidden from the other vampires. Being part fae’s also what made it so I wasn’t tired during the day. And you never noticed I didn’t go out into the sun anymore,” Irish said.
“When?” Grant asked, still so cool.
“Over a month ago,” Irish said. “The queen was planning this for a while. She knew about our division and thought we would likely get involved. She knew about Ariana long before she ever went into the nest.” He looked at me. “I really am sorry, Ariana, I don’t have a choice.”
He did a double take at Grant. “Swapped out the hairs? You knew?”
“Why do you think I was telling Quil no about checking you?” Grant asked, eyes glued to Irish.
“You wanted to get the demon first?” I asked, strugglin’ to breathe as an endless round of nos danced through my skull.
This couldn’t be happening.
Quil had been right. Grant was trying to avoid a showdown with Irish until after we got the demon.
But he had to know this was a trap, right? He just hadn’t known the demon took Dan’s form.
Oh my God! Dan! What happened to him?
Irish leaped at me and I screamed, rollin’ under his arms with my gun tucked to my chest. I bounced to my feet and pointed my gun at him, vamp blood makin’ me fast apparently.
Thank you, Milo and Quil.
Small hands closed around my neck. Oh right.
The demon.
She picked me up and tossed me at the wall. I turned and took the hit with my left shoulder, fallin’ to the ground and not even feelin’ it.
The door burst open and Quil and Jet jumped in. Jet held the silver whip and Quil had a thing of mace and a gun with a suppressor.
Quil tossed me a wink before cracking a shot off at Irish with the suppressed gun, the sound echoin’ off the tile but not nearly as bad as if any of us were to shoot.
The demon bull-rushed me as Jet brought the whip up and snapped it at Irish.
He knew too?
Quil grabbed the demon and took her to the ground.
“Back pocket,” he yelled.
I lunged forward, pulling a can of mace outta his pocket.
He rolled off the demon and I sprayed her in the face, scramblin’ back so the cloud wouldn’t get me too.
“Grant!” Quil threw the suppressed gun and Grant snatched it out of midair like catching a banana.
How the hell did they coordinate that?
Grant tucked his gun in his pocket and aimed the suppressed one at Irish, the little pop sayin’ he shot.
That thing couldn’t have too many bullets left. Then again, we could always use our guns and just deal with deafness.
My doppleganger ripped off her face and another grew over it like one of those old Chia pets. The mace hurt her, but didn’t debilitate her like it had her mate.
Maybe females were more resistant, or it could’ve been a special talent of hers, or she could’ve just been too filled with anger to feel much of anything.
She gave me a cocky grin and came at me again.
That first round took maybe ten seconds and I was already breathin’ hard. I sprayed her and she ran right into me, knockin’ me into the wall.
I hit the ground, air burstin’ outta my lungs.
Quil grabbed the demon by the shoulders and spun her, slammin’ his fist into her face. They traded blows, almost too fast to track.
Jet and Grant stayed on Irish, flickin’ the silver whip at him to keep him at bay, but eventually they wouldn’t be able to hold him. He was just too fast.
I gasped, pushin’ to my hands and knees.
Had to get up. Had to stop them. Couldn’t just sit here.
Couldn’t let anyone else die cuz of me.
I shoved myself up, taking a deep breath and pullin’ out my mace.
I ran, jumpin’ on the demon’s back and taking her to the ground. We hit hard and I p
ushed her face into the tiles and scrambled off her to get back to my feet.
She grabbed my ankle and pulled.
I flopped to my belly, sending my mace sliding.
The demon released me and I rolled over, pain shootin’ through my side.
Quil sprayed her in the face, keepin’ it going as she screamed and ripped it away, layers of wax and flesh littering the floor almost as fast as the spray could hit her.
Quil jerked as I got back to my feet, holding my side as metal sliced right where Quil had been.
Nice reflexes.
I looked up and Irish jumped back, barely avoiding the whip as he brought his knife up, catchin’ the whip around it. He yanked it right outta Jet’s hands and grabbed the end, bringing it up to bear way too fast.
Jet had been being careful with it since he didn’t want to get any of us.
Irish didn’t have that problem.
He snapped the whip so fast at me I couldn’t take a step before it came for me, just toss my hands up on reflex.
Pain shot through me like fire as I stumbled back.
A gash ran down my forearm, bleedin’ so heavy there had to be serious damage.
I didn’t care.
I pulled my gun out and shot at Irish.
The blast echoed through the room, the hard materials makin’ the bathroom the absolute worst place for a shootout. My ears rang and the world came into sharp focus even as my ears were useless.
Irish fell to his knees and dropped the whip, blood spreadin’ around the tiny hole in his shirt around the belly.
I’d been aiming for his heart, but this would kill him too.
Just slower.
The demon jumped up and lunged for Irish.
She scooped up the silver whip, swingin’ it easily as she said something, lookin’ at me.
I blinked. Maybe the shot didn’t hurt her ears like ours?
She waved her hand and my ears popped, the fuzz clearin’ out.
“You’re all so delicate,” she said, vitrol dripping from the word.
“Still going to kill you,” I said. “But thanks for fixin’ my ears.”
She laughed. Oh boy, was that the most disturbing thing ever, to hear my laugh from my face, when it wasn’t me.
“Have you ever seen the Wizard of Oz?” she asked.
Huh?
“Of course you have,” she said. “Everyone has. The second he dies, I’m unbound. And, let’s see if I can get this right.” She cleared her throat and landed hot eyes on Quil. “I’ll get you my pretty, and your little psychic too.”
She laughed again as Quil growled. “You killed my mate, you’re going to pay.” She turned to me. “Since you’re the psychic, I’m guessing it’s mostly your fault, so, I’m going to drag you and your vamp back to my side of things, and you’re going to watch as I rape him, then I’m handing you over to some friends of mine, and it’ll be your turn.”
My breath caught in my throat.
I rushed her, cold certainty and vamp blood pushing me and I tackled her. I barely glimpsed the shock on her face so like mine and I bit her hand hard as I could.
She screamed and dropped the whip, rearin’ her arm back and backhanding me across the face.
I went sliding across the floor, not feeling much of anything as I pushed back up.
We kill her now, or she comes after us later.
I wouldn’t live like that.
Quil jumped in, mace up as he scooped up the whip.
“What will kill her?” I yelled. “We’ve got till the silver gets Irish.”
“Explosives,” he said, snapping the whip at her.
“How do you suggest we do that without dying?” Jet asked.
Grant stepped forward and took the whip from Quil, waving at him. “You, Kowolski, Ryder, out!”
Jet backed out right away and Quil backed up and grabbed my non-injured arm, pulling me back towards the door. He yanked me out as Grant whipped at the demon, twining the silver around her too easily.
Almost like magic.
And pulled out a grenade.
“Grant!” I screamed, lunging for him.
“Run!” Grant screamed, running for us as he threw the grenade behind him and Quil tossed me over his shoulder and ran up the hall way faster than the guys.
The explosion rocked the hall and sent us flying.
Quil turned and dropped me so he slammed into the door and flopped to the floor while I just skinned my knees.
“Quil!”
He groaned and waved a hand to let me know he was okay.
Tears blurred my eyes as I looked down the hallway. The smoke didn’t hide the debris in the hallway, the damage about ten feet from the door.
The guys weren’t that far from the bathroom when it blew. No way they survived that.
“Grant!” I yelled, somehow still able to hear.
“Girl!” came back a moment later.
I clapped my hands to my mouth and tears came out so fast I could barely see as I coughed on the smoke.
Jet limped over, Grant hanging on his slim shoulder like a giant bag of potatoes with arms. Jet sagged and let Grant slump to the ground and I fell next to my boss.
“Sir?” I asked.
He coughed. “Don’t try that at home, Ryder.”
I sobbed and threw myself over him, huggin’ him as tight as I dared.
“How?” Quil asked behind us.
I looked up and Quil offered me a hand. I took it and stood, head swimming.
“Milo showed me a few tricks in our little mind meld,” Grant said. “Shields fucking hurt.”
Well if that didn’t confirm Grant was magic.
“You going to be okay, sir?”
He closed his eyes and rolled over.
“Sir, you shouldn’t get up,” Jet said.
“We need to know what happened to Bridges,” Grant said, pushing up to his knees. “Kowalski, find him. Ryder, call an ambulance.”
“Yes, sir,” we said together.
Chapter TWENTY-two
I called the ambulance, just said there were injuries and we were FBI and needed discretion. We pushed the door open and walked out.
Vamps and humans crowded around the door and Quil had to order more than one to move.
The pain still wasn’t hittin’ me but the blood loss from my arm was definitely making me woozy. I leaned on Quil and he gave my shoulder a squeeze.
“I’d lick it for you, but…” he said.
“Silver, I know,” I said. “Kinda surprised it hasn’t healed. The last cut did.”
Irish, my friend, was a vamp who tried to kill me, and who summoned a demon that raped and murdered three girls. It was so ridiculous that I pinched myself to make sure I wasn’t dreaming.
I barely felt it, but something told me that was due to the shock and not cuz this wasn’t real.
“The danger’s over. The demon and the summoner are dead,” Quil said.
The crowd erupted into questions and I looked around, trying to see something though them as they surged forward, touching Quil’s arms and face and my hair.
Grant took me by the shoulder and we inched through the vamp crowd.
They petted us as we went but moved, lettin’ us through and closin’ back up behind us like a zipper as they shot questions at Quil.
We had to find Dan.
Grant led me to the bar and it took a second for me to realize Jet was behind us.
We walked around the back and there was Dan, half stuffed under the bar, eyes closed and head to the side.
“No!” Jet yelled, droppin’ next to Dan and draggin’ him out.
“Oh God!” I gasped as Jet pressed fingers to his friend’s neck.
Dan groaned.
“He’s alive!” Jet bent his head over his buddy and muttered, “Thank you, God.”
Kat finally plunged through the crowd and joined us. She pulled something out of her bag and handed it to Jet. He waved it under Dan’s nose.
Dan’s baby blu
es fluttered open and he batted at Jet’s hands. “Dude, what the fuck!”
“Smelling salts,” Kat said.
“What happened?” Dan asked, grasping his head as he sat up.
Kat hit the floor next to them and I leaned into Grant as he wrapped his arm around my shoulders.
Kat pulled stuff outta her bag and shined a light in Dan’s eyes.
“Ow! Kat!”
“Sorry.” Kat put the flashlight down and started examining his head with gentle fingers. “The demon smacked you a good one, is what happened. Probably didn’t kill you because the vampires would be able to smell a dead body.”
“Lucky me,” Dan said, still holding his skull.
“Yeah, you have a concussion,” she said.
Grant steered me away from them and over to where Len still had an unconscious Crowley in the chair.
I had just enough time to think Grant was going to kill him before he reached behind and uncuffed him.
Crowley sat up with a grin.
Whoa! Wasn’t he knocked out?
“You got him?” Crowley asked.
Huh?
“Yeah,” Grant said. “It was Irish.”
“No!” Crowley closed his eyes and looked away. “I would have bet money it wasn’t him.”
“Me too. He was turned into a vamp about a month ago, said he was ordered.”
“Shit!” Crowley shook out his hands and rubbed his jaw. “Did you have to hit me so hard?”
“Yes,” Grant said. “Had to make it look real.”
“Look?” Crowley said. “Man, that was real.”
“Exactly.”
“What?” I finally found my voice enough to screech.
“Ryder, volume,” Grant said.
“Sorry,” I said in a more normal tone. “So he wasn’t working with Irish?”
“Nope.” Crowley looked very proud of himself. “We knew it was someone who worked with us after the tracking device on your clip was taken out of the house and somehow showed back up in evidence. He probably thought we’d notice if it was gone permanently, but not if it was just borrowed for a bit.”
“Why did you think it was Crowley?” Grant asked.
“Oh, um,” I said. “Well, he didn’t want to touch me at the office, and someone was blockin’ the voice transmission earlier so it had to be one of ours on security, and it just seemed to fit.”
“Ouch,” Crowley said.
I shrugged. “I know, don’t assume. Won’t happen again, General. But I don’t get it, Crowley shot Milo.”
