Connor waited for Beta to get some distance on us and approached the hatch himself. I was expecting he would lead the charge, but instead he rapped out the code to close it up.
Trevor and I exchanged a look.
“Are we going out the front?” I asked, thinking that just maybe Trevor was right and Melli’d drawn off the watchers, making it safe for us to take another route to the council house—which presumably we’d come at from different directions anyway, to kind of surround them.
He gave me a wintry glare. “No.”
A chill ran right up my spine, and out to all points until my fingers nearly tingled in shock.
“You’re leaving them hanging,” I guessed. “It’ll be a bloodbath.”
His lips pulled back from his teeth, and I could see the points, deadly and glistening like a snake about to strike. Was that what I looked like when I fed? Ew, maybe it was a good thing we didn’t show up in mirrors.
“It’ll be a bloodbath anyway,” he hissed. “I’m saving you. When it’s all over, we’ll come to our own understanding with the council. We will live.”
I looked at the others. Unlike their lack of reaction to the human-shaped archery targets, there was real horror in their eyes now. Connor might be old enough to have lost his humanity, but we were still young. We remembered. I didn’t see selling my soul, assuming I still had one, as “saving” myself.
I looked around, waiting for someone to speak up. I was surprised when it was me.
“Listen up, people!” I said, raising my voice loud enough to carry. “Do we want to be led by a loser who would sacrifice our friends and tell us it’s for our own good?”
There were a few murmurs of “no,” Trevor and Cassandra the loudest.
“Are you all ready to kick some butt? If we fight for ourselves, for our friends, we can do anything. Remember Marcy and Rick. Think of Bobby. Connor is willing to sacrifice us all just the way Mellisande did. I say NO MORE!”
There was a roar of agreement this time. People were getting over their shock, getting psyched for battle. Staying behind was like pulling an all-nighter only to find out the test was cancelled. We were prepped and ready. I almost had myself convinced I wasn’t sending everyone into sudden death.
“Grab him!” I ordered, sweeping a hand and pointing a finger right at Connor.
The group surged forward before Connor even had time to pull together a decent whammy. The first guy to reach for him froze halfway there, looking shocked as his grasping hands fell to his sides, but Connor could only mentally reach one of us at a time, and within seconds he was overwhelmed.
“Bring him,” I said. “He knows the plan. He knows where we’re headed.”
“And if he won’t tell us?” Trevor asked, holding tight to one of Connor’s arms.
“I’ll leave that to you.” I didn’t even know what I meant by that—I didn’t think ROTC trained their guys in interrogation and torture. I hoped not anyway. But Trevor nodded like it was something he could handle, and I breathed a sigh of relief.
“Let’s move out!” I ordered.
I played my little tune on the door and it opened before us. I could totally get used to this being taken seriously and being, like, the Pied Piper of vamps, if only I weren’t so freaked that I was leading us into war. I still didn’t know exactly what had possessed me or what we’d find at the council place. I didn’t know the layout or the other troop movements or whatever. I didn’t know how many we were up against. What the hell was I doing?
Team Beta had left the weapons locker open assuming we’d be right behind them, and I ordered everyone to load up. It was kind of a heady feeling to be obeyed.
For myself, I grabbed about five water guns and loaded them from the bottle of holy water Trevor passed to me, very, very careful not to get any on myself, and more careful not to consider what the effects meant for my soul. I mean, I wasn’t using it for anything, but still …
Trevor’s weapons of choice were the guns and the pointy stakes—the real wood kind and not our little practice points. Bows and arrows would be way too bulky once the enemy got close enough to see the whites of our eye-teeth. He also found a load of the zip-tie cuffs Melli’s minions had used on Bobby and me when they kidnapped us. He promptly put them to use on Connor, who snarled and kicked and flailed and generally made a nuisance of himself until Trevor shot him in the chest with a blast of holy water. It ate right through his shirt and started in on his flesh, with a smell of burnt hair and boiled blood that I did my best to ignore, along with his outraged howl.
I thought about the news report I’d seen, where Bobby was wanted for questioning and all. Maybe if I tipped off the police, they’d put a stop to the violence. It wasn’t like they could lock Bobby up once they realized the bodies he was accused of snatching were walking around under their own steam. But I’d be sending regular humans up against vamps, totally unprepared. And, if they lived through it, we vamps would be exposed—incite a national panic, maybe, or be used as lab rats.
No, there wasn’t anyone I could call in for reinforcements. We were on our own.
Cassandra jogged up next to me and asked quietly, “You have a plan?”
“I’m open to suggestions,” I told her.
“That would be ‘no’?”
“I’m working on it.”
“Work faster,” she suggested.
“Great, thanks.”
As we exited the tunnel, I aimed my own water gun at Connor. “Our ride is in the school parking lot?”
He looked like he was doing his very best to shoot daggers out of his eyes, but failing miserably. “Yes,” he answered through clenched teeth.
I led the way, trying to march tall despite my uncomfortable height deprivation. I was totally confident in my three-inch heels, but take those away … at least my new kicks didn’t sink into the ground, ’cause it had totally rained during the day. My sneaks were wet by the time we reached the van in the lot. It was the same one Bobby and I had seen that first day, a lifetime ago, idling outside the sporting goods store while Chickzilla, Rick, and Larry raided it.
“Who has their license?” I asked, not even sure why I was worried about that. We had way bigger problems than a ticket if the police stopped us and recognized anyone.
“I do,” half the kids chimed. I chose a spiky-haired guy who just looked like the speed-demon type, figuring if we needed any quick getaways …
“You, what’s your name?”
“Frank.”
“Good. Frank, you’re in the hot seat.”
Trevor frisked Connor for the keys and tossed them to Frank, who got a huge grin on his face like he’d just found his happy place.
I didn’t even have to tell anyone what to do next. As soon as Frank had the doors open, I called shotgun and the rest piled in.
“Where to?” Trevor asked, and I craned my neck to see what kind of threat he was using on Connor now. In close quarters he’d chosen the stake, rather than risk incidental damage with the water pistol. He was holding it just south of where I figured Connor’s heart would be.
“Turn right out of the lot,” Connor answered unhappily, but his eyes seemed kind of vacant. Either he’d given up or he was busy plotting.
Frank gunned the van and it lurched forward, knocking everyone back. Just as we were pulling out of the lot a car flew out of nowhere to cut us off. Frank slammed the brakes instead of the gas this time, throwing us all forward again into whiplash territory. But it wasn’t soon enough to avoid a head-on collision with the broadside of a car I knew way too well, and a driver who the others thought dead. They’d witnessed his execution, after all.
“Damn it. Rick!” I yelled, like he could hear me through the van window.
Rick nearly fell out of his car, staggering a step before bracing himself and his very serio
us crossbow on our hood, the bolt aimed right toward our driver. His eyes were a mile wide, but I couldn’t tell if it was sheer adrenaline or something to do with Connor and mind control.
“You’re not going anywhere.” Connor spoke for him, solving that mystery.
“Really, how do you expect to lead when no one else will follow?” I asked reasonably.
“I’ll find a way.”
“Everybody out of the van,” Rick ordered a second later. His voice was raised, but it was also dead flat, like he was speaking someone else’s … Connor’s … words.
“Shoot him,” I told Trevor. I could have shot Connor myself, but I figured if he suddenly had to control Trevor, he’d lose control over Rick and I’d have a chance to get through to him.
I wasn’t counting on Connor turning Trevor’s hand against himself. “Cass, help him!” I cried, “Cassandra” being way too long to spit out in an emergency.
She lunged for the gun and a crossbow bolt pierced the windshield just to my left, halfway between me and Frank, who let lose a “Holy shit!”
I jumped nearly out of my skin and whirled on Rick, who was staring through the windshield.
“Rick!” I yelled, fixing on his anime-huge eyes. “Change sides and I’ll turn you, right freakin’ now! No more games, no more feeling your body dying around you, just eternal life.”
Rick’s crossbow twitched and Frank pulled his own bow and arrow, like it would really go through glass. Rick’s bolt had to have been steel-tipped—not to mention that his crossbow looked way tougher than Frank’s more traditional bow.
“Down, boy,” I told Frank. “Rick?”
There was another tense second of silence, during which I looked back to see that Cassandra had won the battle for Trevor’s gun and Connor now had way too many muzzles pointing at him to control them all. They were only water guns—some brightly colored and all completely plastic—but there was no mistaking they meant business. Connor’s control faltered.
“Gina?” Rick called out. “I’m in. I’ll lower my weapon, but only if you come out alone.”
I swallowed a breath in order to heave a sigh of relief. It could be a trick, but every second of our stand-off was another one in which our friends in Team Beta went without backup. I had to risk it.
“You,” I said, making eye contact with Trevor and Cass, “find out where we’re headed. Beat it out of Connor if you have to. You,” I said to Frank, “drive.” To everyone else, “Follow Trevor’s orders. Win the day! I’m taking alternate transport.” I waved a hand at Rick’s T-bird.
“But I don’t know—” Trevor protested.
“And I do?”
That shut him up. I opened the van door and descended into the face of a bolt pointed just slightly away from me. It was clear it could swing around at any moment.
I slapped the side of the van twice like it was a reluctant horse, and Frank put it into reverse to pull a hasty turn. I only hoped everyone got to the council house in one piece.
“Well?” Rick challenged, eying me warily, like I might be the trickster.
“Give me your wrist,” I said impatiently, because there was no way I was necking with the rat, even to save us both.
“You just want me to take my hand off the weapon.”
“Duh. What choice do you have? You think you’ll be in a position to shoot me if we’re neck and neck?”
He got one of those wicked guy smiles on his face. “We could find out.”
“Ewww. Pass. Now, the wrist.”
Nervously, Rick took a hand off his crossbow and offered it to me. His nails were in worse shape than mine, bitten to the quick and bumpy besides, like he wasn’t eating right. I was totally glad I had the vamp immunity and couldn’t get rabies or scabies or anything from him.
“Ready?” I asked.
He nodded, but then winced as I bit in, his hand jerking just a bit. I held firm and he subsided, even moaning like it was good for him. It icked me out enough that I didn’t get carried away. A little was more than enough. My hunger wasn’t too certain of that though, and I used my still-elongated teeth to open a nick in my own wrist.
Rick’s eyes looked dazed. He lost his grip on the crossbow with the unbitten hand and didn’t even notice when it fell to the ground.
“Suck,” I offered, holding my arm out.
He swayed, as if maybe I’d taken too much and he was going to pass out. I slapped him and it felt so good I did it again on the other cheek. He snapped out of it with a glare.
“Your turn to drink,” I told him.
A look of ugh crossed his face, and then he bent his head to lick at the blood welling on my wrist.
“Ick. Suck or don’t suck, but don’t lap at it like a dog.”
Rick grabbed my wrist to keep me from pulling back and sucked like a Hoover.
I yanked it away when I was sure he had enough.
“Okay, let’s roll,” I said, yanking open the passenger door to the T-bird.
“But I don’t feel any different!”
“Don’t make me ‘duh’ you again. Really. You’re still alive, like a pre-vamp or something. If you’re lucky you’ll die tonight. I may kill you myself. Now, let’s go.”
20
Gina! a voice called in my head.
“Bobby!” I answered out loud.
“What?” Rick asked, swerving just a little as his gaze strayed from the road.
“Never mind, just keep driving. And step on it. We’re already behind!”
He looked at me like I’d lost it, but I was totally getting used to that.
Bobby? I asked, in my head this time.
Where are you? It was almost like we had a bad connection or someone was sitting on the volume control of a remote, the way the sound wobbled.
On the way.
Better hurry!
Have the reinforcements arrived?
They—he cut out on me, and I banged both hands down on the dashboard. I looked over at the speedometer, which only said 75. I was pretty sure this thing could go faster than that.
“Is this what ‘step on it’ means to you?”
“The T-bird isn’t exactly new. It starts to shake itself apart at 80.”
I threw a leg over the junk between us and stamped down on his foot. The car jumped forward, more like a bronco than a bird, and true to Rick’s words felt like an earthquake on wheels.
“H-h-how f-f-far?” I asked, my teeth clacking together.
“An-n-nother f-f-five,” he answered.
It was less than that when we spotted Team Beta’s van, abandoned in a ditch just a few feet from a nearly hidden driveway that went up a hill to something that couldn’t even be seen from the road. Alpha must have driven straight up to the door.
“The s-surprise is already b-b-b-blown,” I said. “N-n-no need to h-hoof it.”
He slowed to take the turn, and my liquefied insides thanked him. Trees obscured our view all the way up the hill, reaching nearly to the car, blocking out even the night sky. When we came free of them, the house before us could have been a temple—large and square, with mile-high pillars and a triangular piece below the roof that had some kind of raised design I didn’t have time to appreciate. I did notice that not all the figures in the design were clothed … or even proportional.
The front door hung open on its hinges. An arm blocked it from closing, its fingers curled to the sky like a spider gone belly-up.
“Whoa,” Rick said, voice hushed.
“Let’s go.”
We got out of the car and approached slowly. All was quiet—here at least. The fight had moved on.
There was no body to go with the arm in the entrance, which we had to step over. But there was remarkably little blood, and I did my best to pretend it was some drama
club prop, like from Sweeney Todd.
Farther in we could hear the fighting—furniture getting knocked around, bodies hitting the wall, hard.
“Ladies first,” Rick offered, sweeping a hand before him.
“Yeah, ’cause I really want you covering my butt.”
“It’s a dirty job, but someone has to do it.”
I couldn’t waste any more time trading mediocre banter with Rick-the-rat. I only hoped I’d have a lifetime to do denial on the idea that he was now my offspring or whatever it’s called in the vamp world. I so wasn’t ready for motherhood. I could only imagine the Popsicle-stick art I’d get for mother’s day. And it made his smarmy comments that much grosser.
Bobby! I called out mentally, hoping I’d get a fix on him and the center of the action, but I got nothing. Again I clung to the thought that he was just occupied elsewhere, and not dead.
It was all fun and games—blood trails, the occasional body part or hank of hair ripped out by the roots, in one case a shoe with a broken heel—until we hit the staircase into the unknown. Unknown because blocking the sight of what lay beyond was Team Alpha, Trevor at the head, slashing about him with a sharpened stake. The others weren’t doing as well. Weapons had been dropped, making the stairs treacherous. Already I could see teammates who had fallen fighting the council vamps. My heart did its best to climb into my throat.
Trevor himself went down with no warning whatsoever, like someone had just grabbed his feet out from under him. He held onto the stake and it flailed dangerously at everyone within range. Without thinking, I vaulted over Trevor’s downed body, ready to stand between him and his rival, when something else pounced, knocking Trevor’s opponent to the floor. Suddenly, I was face-to-face with a pair of fiery red eyes. The psychic crouched, smiling at me with gleaming, blood-stained teeth. The freakshow had clearly fed recently. I hoped for Trevor’s sake that he was full.
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