Jaise got her arm in a vise-like grip. “Explanations later, Officer,” he said in her ear. “Trust me, we don’t want to be here when our boy gets started.”
Behind him, Aslet laughed, all cold and icy delight.
A chair erupted into flames. Choking smoke billowed toward the ceiling and water whooshed from the sprinklers. Claudia blinked against the flashing strobe that accompanied the emergency alarm. While the B-Ops team was distracted by the fire blossoming toward them, Jaise stepped onto the balcony, pulling Claudia with him.
“They’re gonna jump!” someone shouted.
“Move and you’re dead!”
Claudia stood on the balcony, crisp air icing her skin. The moon was round as a platter and pale white. Damn, but Strata +1 was damn high in the air. Jaise’s dark hair swept across his cheek. Click. Behind her, somebody chambered a bullet. A flood of sensation overwhelmed her. Nausea swept through her, and her head throbbed with the worst headache she’d ever had in her life. Jaise reached up, grabbed the bottom railing of the balcony above and pulled himself up one-handed. He gripped her wrist with his other hand and yanked hard. Her feet lost contact with the ground, and she screamed because, Jesus, if Jaise let go, she was dead. Inside the hotel room, B-Ops commandos shouted over each other.
“They’re getting away!”
“Fire!”
“Watch the monster!”
“They’re compromised, soldier! Shoot to kill.”
“Motherfucker!”
“Shoot to kill!”
Too late. Jaise hauled her up to the balcony above. Claudia’s stomach flipped inside out. Wind whipped her hair, shrieked in her ears and tugged at her body. The ground was a hell of a long way down. She teetered at the railing, too dizzy to stop herself from falling. Jaise caught her and pulled hard. The sky around them flashed with bluish light. She heard screams from the floor below. Jaise got her turned around in time to see the window in front of them vanish. It wavered and then shimmered into a heap of sand at their feet.
A backwash of warmth caught her face, and Claudia took a last gasp of air. Jaise charged through the opening, dragging her along. His fingers were hot around her wrist. They bowled through the suite. She smelled saltpeter and the scent of burning carpet. They dashed into the hotel corridor. At one end of the hall the arrival bell dinged in a bank of chrome-plated elevators. At the other, an EXIT sign glowed green. B-Ops soldiers swarmed the hallway. More came out of the elevator. The air shimmered again, and the demon Aslet appeared from nowhere. He was less than ten feet away from her and Jaise.
“Shit,” Jaise said. Still holding her, he faced the EXIT sign. Boots thundered down the hallway above. The exit door flew open and B-Ops commandos poured through. Jaise ducked into a service alcove, pulling her with him and just in time, too.
The demon lifted his hand and the front three commandos vanished. Another gesture, another guttural word, and the second rank disappeared, too. The third wave moved into position. Claudia felt the flood of energy leave the demon and take care of the rest of the commandos who just vanished like the others. Half a beat later, the exit door bounced once and then closed. No one else came through.
Aslet laughed.
Jaise moved so fast she lost track of him for a moment. Dragging her along, he flashed through the stairwell door as if it wasn’t there. She got her legs under her and, with Jaise, flew down the steps because she had the awful feeling her life depended on keeping up. Probably it did. The demon followed. From the floor above more commandos pounded down the stairwell, all of them under the mistaken impression that six feet was a safe range. It wasn’t. One motion of the demon’s hand, a flash of heat, and they disappeared in an explosion of brilliant blue.
Jaise gripped Claudia’s wrist, and they descended forty flights of stairs at a jog. By the time they reached the bottom, her thigh muscles screamed in protest. As for B-Ops, someone must have figured out they’d mistaken safe range. Although she could hear the sound of pursuit, it was from a lot further away.
At the street-level exit, Jaise lifted a leg and kicked the door. It crashed open. The bottom stairwell felt hot. By the time the door rebounded, the alarm was screeching and they were through, outside, in the paling dark of pre-dawn.
“Come on, Donovan.” His voice sounded different, but considering she’d never been in an operation with him, and certainly not one that went so wrong, maybe it was his tense voice.
He hauled her into the street and, hand in the middle of her back, pushed her along. “Pretend we’re lovers out for a stroll.” His fingers landed on her side, right underneath her breast. She slapped his hand.
“What the hell is going on, Jaise?”
“Classified, Officer. Not for L.A.P.D. to know.”
“How come they were shooting at you?”
He gave her a look. The pupils of his eyes were huge, the grey irises a narrow ring. “Standard Operating Procedure, Officer,” he said. “For all they know, I’ve been compromised by the demon. That goes for you, too.”
An image of the golden knife flashed into her head. “Have we been compromised?”
He let out a bark of a laugh. “No.”
“Well, what the hell did that thing do to us?”
“Classified information, Officer.”
She rolled her eyes. “Okay, how about this one: How long have demons been getting into Crimson City?”
He reached into a pocket of his pants and pulled out a pair of sunglasses. Below his shirtsleeve, muscle bunched and flexed. He slipped on the shades and walked faster. Claudia hurried to keep pace. “Longer than anyone thinks,” he said.
“Are your guys going to manage that freak back there?”
“Probably not,” he said.
“That’s not reassuring.”
Jaise gave her a look.
“Where are we going?” she asked.
Jaise sidestepped a tipped over garbage can. “Somewhere safe. Until I can prove I’m not compromised, we need to stay the hell away from B-Ops. And the cops. If you’re smart, you’ll stick with me and do the same.”
They left the downtown for a seedier section of L.A. Back to the Lower and the narrower streets, dirty gutters and overflowing trash cans of her youth. Most of the street lamps were broken or constantly dimmed from the re-wired power grid connection. Jaise navigated the dark like it was midday. Night vision contacts. Had to be. He wrapped his fingers around her wrist. The sensation in her head just about dropped her to her knees. Her stomach dry heaved. He waited until she’d finished then pulled her back to the street. “What the hell was that?” she asked.
“Residual effect,” Jaise said.
“How come you’re not puking?”
He shrugged. “I’m bigger than you are. More lean body mass. Diffuses the effect of a demonic ritual. You’re smaller, so you feel it more.” He glanced around the street. “Come on.”
They set off purposefully, striding into an area where the homeless sagged in doorways or under cardboard boxes. Whores paraded in skin-tight shirts and skirts that were more sparkly hanky than anything else. One of them had two prominent bite marks on her throat. The whore watched Jaise speculatively. “What d’ya do?” she called to Claudia. “Make that fine man mad at you?” Claudia ignored her and kept walking.
But, eventually, she got tired of wondering what the hell was going on. “Where are we going?” she asked again.
“I told you. Someplace safe.” It was his tense voice. He gripped her arm and kept her moving.
“I was only asking.” She inched toward the street. If anybody jumped them, the street was a safer place to be than the sidewalk. She ignored her nausea and the tension between her and Jaise stretched tighter and tighter. From the corner of her eye, she caught a blur of motion. What now?
“Someplace safe,” he repeated.
Twenty seconds later, all hell broke loose.
Chapter Seven
The air shimmered, heated, and then Aslet stood before them, blocking their
way. His eyes glittered their usual hot blue. Before either Claudia or Jaise could react, a squadron of B-Ops commandos swarmed around the corner behind them. More streamed from behind cars parked on the street. Claudia tugged on her wrist, trying to break his grip, but Jaise tightened his fingers.
Someone with a bullhorn said, “Lay down your weapons. On the ground, arms up, face down. If you do not comply, all necessary force will be used to subdue you.”
Three soldiers went down on one knee. Schick-tak. They had automatic weapons and were poised and ready to kill. The demon lifted a hand, focusing on the middle of the three. Claudia felt a whisper from Aslet, then the middle man whirled and shot the man to his right. The one on the other side fired at her, but he was off balance and jittery. He missed. The center man screamed in agony and dropped his weapon. A moment later, his gun imploded.
Jaise about pulled Claudia’s arm from the socket as they fled, and she just did her best to keep up. Several commandos detached from the group in the street and followed. Another blur of motion appeared in the corner of her eye, something tracking them faster than she could see. To her knowledge, only a vamp moved that fast. Overhead, she heard a copter. Jaise moved fast. Really fast. To the rear, something exploded, and before they’d gone ten more steps, she smelled smoke and burning plastic. Automatic weapons fire rang out. Chaos reigned behind them. Utter chaos.
Jaise continued at a relentless pace. Claudia was in damn good shape, but the speed taxed her. Jaise’s longer legs meant she ran two steps for every one of his. Her breath labored in her ears and her side started to ache. She could do a sub six-minute mile, but not for much longer than a couple of miles. Her legs were almost out. But eventually the sounds of pursuit faded and Jaise slowed. Even the sirens had faded. She was still catching that blur of motion in her peripheral vision. She wondered if Jaise knew they were being followed. She didn’t have the breath to tell him. They came to a stop in front of an abandoned building, decrepit and decaying. She put her head down and sucked in breaths. Her legs, already stressed from a descent of forty flights of stairs, shook. Even the condemned sign was falling apart here. Claudia had about five seconds to look around and figure out where they were. Then, the blur materialized.
Oh great. Just great. A pair of moss green eyes met hers and she could swear they sneered even better than his mouth. This wasn’t just any vamp, but Tiber freaking Korzha. What had he come for? Was he watching out for his bloodthirsty group of criminal vamps?
She didn’t have time to find out. Jaise moved around the side of the building, pulled her through a broken chain-link fence and slipped through a cracked door. Claudia stumbled in the sudden dark. The smell just about killed her; werewolf musk mixed with piss and the damp smell of vomit and rats. Somewhere deep inside the building, a tomcat yowled. The hair on the back of her neck lifted. Who’d have believed things could get any worse?
“Jaise. Hey!” She tugged on her hand, but his fingers squeezed tight. “Look, Jaise, I know you have that B-Ops secret training going for you, but trust me, we really don’t want to be unprotected in what is obviously one of the shoddier werewolf dens around town.”
“You are not unprotected,” he said.
“Right. Well, see, the thing is, in case you didn’t notice—Oh, yech.” Her foot skidded in something smelly and soft. Jaise pulled on her hand. He still had on his sunglasses, and he didn’t seem to be having any trouble seeing. “Look, the moon was full. I’m pretty sure of that. Honestly, you do not want to confront any doggie desperate enough to live here. Really, you don’t. I’m not so sure even you’re a match for one of these bad dogs.”
He turned and Claudia, not expecting the motion, stumbled into him. His arm slid around her waist and he pulled her closer. Heat roiled through her, and, oh, gross, he had a hard-on. “You are not unprotected,” he repeated.
“Well, it sure as hell feels like it.” She pushed away from him, away from the insistent pressure of his erection. In the distance, something crashed, wood broke. Rats skittered in every direction. Claudia’s temples pulsed. Shit. Her heart raced. “They’re here. They know we’re here. Wolves. Shit.” She scrambled for one of the flaps on her police pants. “You armed, Jaise? Just let me get the wolf ammo, and we’ll have a chance.” A slim chance was better than none.
“I’ll protect you,” he said.
“Gee, thanks.” She gritted her teeth. From the corner of her eye she saw a blur. Korzha again. Was that good or bad? Who knew with him? Probably bad. With her luck, he was the kind of sicko who liked to watch a werewolf conversion.
Jaise pulled her to a wooden door, bent on its hinges. Through the cracks, she could see a sterile glow. Electric light. If they were really, really lucky the light was from a homeless person and not doggies. Of course, it was possible there were rogue vamps on the other side. Normally, that would be unlikely, considering a vamp’s natural predilection for the finer areas, but if Tiber Korzha hung out here, maybe it was rogue vamps. Pick your damn poison. Fang or dog, they both had sharp teeth.
On this side of the wall, a naked bulb illuminated the corridor, enough to light the passageway for about three square feet. Jaise turned to speak to her. He still wore his sunglasses. “Open the door.”
“We’re not alone, Jaise,” she whispered. Her stomach felt taut and sour, and her pulse pounded hard enough to make her dizzy. It was ridiculous to whisper since vamps would hear her from about fifty yards out and werewolves would have smelled them long ago, but she did it anyway.
“I know that.” He went back to watching the corridor. “Open the door.”
“Are you insane? You have no idea who or what’s on the other side. You open it, you’re so anxious to get fried or eaten or converted.”
He pushed her toward the door. “Open it.”
She touched the wooden surface. Heat rippled through her palm, sharp, and then cold. She yanked back her hand and gingerly moved her now numb fingers. “What the hell was that?”
“Open it.”
“Look, just because you’re B-Ops doesn’t mean you get to jerk me around. I don’t work for you. Obviously whoever’s on the other side has himself connected to the power grid. Illegal as hell, I know, but there you go. Let’s go that way.” She pointed to where the corridor turned sharp left.
His jaw clenched. “Open the door.”
“How about we don’t, and I get to live to see another day?”
He turned his head. “Open the fucking door, Donovan.”
The sunglasses hid his eyes, but there wasn’t any mistaking his fury. Claudia could hear noises upstairs. Feet pounding.
“They’re coming after us.” Jaise touched the door. Blue sparks flew up from either side of his palm. “Fuck!” With pain etched on his face, he said, “Whatever happens, I will protect you.” His voice slid down a notch. “You have my promise. I can’t do this myself.” He bit off each word. He pushed her, hard, and said, “Open the door, goddamn it.”
She slammed into the door. Heat zinged through her and, for a crazy moment, she thought she felt the door shudder. Her head pulsed and then pain blossomed there. She caromed back and would have hit the corridor wall and probably broken her neck if Jaise hadn’t caught her. Nevertheless, when he let her go, she slid to a hard landing on her backside. From over her head, Jaise said something that sounded like it wasn’t very nice.
A little wobbly, she stood. “What’d you do that for, you mor—”
Jaise pulled a Swiss Army knife from his front pocket. He popped a blade and extended his arm, palm up.
Interesting, Claudia thought through her dizziness, a lefty. He touched the point of the dagger to his palm and cut. Blood pooled in his hand, a tiny lake that didn’t trickle out the way regular blood should have. “What the hell are you doing?”
“Trust me, Donovan. There’s no other way. You have to open this door.” He lifted his head. The light from the bulb above glinted off the black lenses of his sunglasses and made it look like there was fire behind
his eyes. He made a fist of his cut palm. Quick as a blink, he grabbed her, pinning her by tucking her upper arm under his armpit. One-handed, he pushed up her sleeve and put the point of his dagger to one of the blue veins in the crook of her elbow.
She tried to pull away, but couldn’t. He pressed the point of the blade to her skin. Her voice slid up half an octave. “What the F do you think you’re doing?”
“That was a demon back there,” he said, like that explained everything. “If you want to live through this, hold still.” He tightened his grip and slit the vein. Not a hole, a slit. Blood ran down the side of her arm. She was going to die, he was going to let her bleed to death right here, and she’d end up wolf meat or vampire bait. He put his hand over the cut, pressing his bloody palm over her skin.
Cold flashed through her. His blood. That was his blood going into her. She lifted her eyes and swear to God, she saw fire inside Jaise’s eyes. He took a deep breath, and she could feel him in her head. In her body. His breath came fast, deep and hard and fast. Jaise reached for her. Her temples throbbed, her body felt full, and she wondered if her head was going to explode. Mist rose around them, and she could smell the heat, and the desert and air so sharp it hurt to breathe, and she fell into him.
Someone shouted. Claudia pried open her eyes and for one disconcerting moment saw Tiber Korzha through Jaise’s sight. She saw the vamp through Jaise. He wasn’t normal, Claudia thought. Jaise was not a normal man. In a flash, Korzha launched himself toward them. Jaise muttered something, threw up a hand and a faint smell of ozone drifted in the air. Korzha went flying backward.
Dimly, Claudia heard voices shouting. B-Ops and the police this time. The good old L.A.P.D. Jaise vaulted headfirst toward Korzha. He landed like a dancer, light and perfectly balanced. She remembered hearing he’d been a gymnast in college. Pac-Ten champion at Cal Berkeley, she heard. Still, that kind of preternatural grace always made you wonder. Lots of vamps trying to pass claimed they were gymnasts or dancers. Although, of course, if Jaise was a vamp, he’d hidden it well from a hell of a lot of people.
A Darker Crimson Page 6
