by Casey Lane
Without hesitation, Lyra followed and fired several more rounds in the woman’s direction before another blast of lightning forced her back. They continued to go back and forth for what felt like ages. Lightning strike. Gunfire. Lightning strike. Gunfire. Lightning strike. Click.
Lyra looked down at the now-useless weapon. Her heart sank. "Could really use that bright idea right about now, Mace!"
From the corner of her eye, Lyra spotted the vampire prince. He had linked the two sets of chains together, with one end wrapped firmly around his hand and the other trailing off behind him and out of sight.
His eyes were wide. "I think I'm ready."
Lyra raised an eyebrow. "Are you going to try tying her to the bed? From experience, I know that's way sexier in the movies."
Mace didn't react to the joke. He seemed to be tensing up his body for some reason. "Get ready to be very, very stealthy."
The realization hit Lyra hard. "I don't think this is a good idea."
Mace ran forward screaming. The receptionist turned the corner and sent her electrical energy directly into Mace's chest. As he bellowed in pain, the current from the blast went through the chain and sped through to the other end. Lyra wasn't sure if he'd attached it to a light socket or a circuit breaker, but before she knew it, the dim lighting that had highlighted their battle went completely dark. Silence loomed large.
Chapter Eighteen
Lyra crouched low in the pitch-black hallway. She listened intently for the sound of breathing before she remembered that vampires have no breath to begin with. She chastised herself internally for not stopping Mace from his stupid, sacrificial plan. She had to admit, it worked like gangbusters.
Lyra quietly stepped out of her boots and went into stalker mode. While the receptionist seemed to understand that using her magic in the dark would put a target on her back, she didn't understand how much her employer had trained Lyra for just these kinds of situations. In the six years that the handler had instructed Lyra on every fighting scenario imaginable, she had to imagine that at least 10% of that time was spent without the benefit of light. That meant Lyra didn't need a shining blue beacon to know exactly where the witch was.
The receptionist took an errant step, alerting Lyra to her location and the best silent path to take her down. The magic user seemed to hurry her pace, abandoning silence with the fear of death approaching. But it was too late. Lyra leapt upon the receptionist and wrapped her arm tight around the witch's thin neck. The choke-hold victim attempted to turn and fire another bolt of lightning, but Lyra was fully locked in. She stayed in place upon the receptionist's back as the witch turned to fire. The woman grunted and whined, as Lyra felt the pulse weaken under the strength of her arms. When the receptionist collapsed to the ground, Lyra kept her hold tight until the final breath had been choked out.
Lyra stood up and cracked her neck to the side. "I'm going to go ahead and put that notch in the win column." As her eyes adjusted to the darkness, she could see a faint hint of smoke emanating from the back of another unconscious creature. "Mace."
She rushed to his side and turned him over. His eyes were closed and not one part of his body seemed to stir.
Lyra considered mouth-to-mouth for a second, but she remembered quickly that most lifesaving measures wouldn't work on an unhuman. She slammed her fist into his chest, but nothing happened.
Her heart raced. "Come on, you vampire bastard. I'm not going to be able to stop these bombs alone!" She looked around and spied the hilt of a knife sticking out of one of the guard’s holsters.
She snatched it and held the blade above her wrist. "I can't believe I'm going to do this." She raked the sharp metal across her wrist, and warm blood rushed to the surface.
Lyra ignored the pain and kept her wrist straight until it reached the vampire's mouth. "Ugh. This is a terrible idea." She placed her wrist just above Mace's lips, and waited for something to happen. All of a sudden, the fangs descended in his perfect mouth and he dug them into her bleeding arm.
She gritted her teeth at the uncomfortable sensation, but as the vampire drink ravenously, his hips shifted toward hers. Lyra ran her other hand through her hair and closed her eyes. Her breathing became heavier as the pleasure from the vampire's grasp mixed with her pain. Mace unconsciously wrapped his hand around her waist and flipped himself up on top of her. In a haze, she barely registered the change in position. The vampire pressed himself into her, all the while continuing to suck her essence through his mouth. She placed her hand on his lower back and compelled his body toward hers. At the moment she let out a low groan, reality rushed in. Lyra realized she was starting to get lightheaded.
She didn't hesitate or ask him nicely: she wound back and sent her elbow into Mace's cheek.
As the unhuman pulled back, leaving Lyra's wrist to bleed from both the original cut and her two new wounds, she could see his eyes go full vampire. For several moments, he was as much a beast as the dozens of rabid vamps she’d killed in her youth. But the ravenous look on his face didn't last long. His eyes returned to something resembling human, as his fangs ascended back into obscurity.
He took a long, deep breath. "I'm sorry. I didn't mean to lose control like that–"
"It's fine." She didn't move a muscle beneath his weight. "Feeling a little less crispy?"
His smile was different from before. It had been hesitant, but now it somehow felt more intimate. "I know it was a stupid plan."
Lyra resisted the urge to wrap her legs around his lower half. "For what it's worth, I did try to stop you."
A few beats of silence passed by. Their eyes locked, and everything else in Lyra's life seemed to slip away. There was only Mace and nothing else. Then their dire situation had to come barreling back through into her brain.
She grunted. "Those bombs aren't going to defuse themselves."
Mace's head shook, as if he just snapped out of a trance. "Of course." The vampire rolled off of her and stood. "I'll head to Michigan Avenue and get in touch with Doug to find the one bomb."
Lyra's mind wanted her to sit and stand, but another part of her wished they could resume their previous position. "I have a pretty good idea where the other one is."
Lyra got to her feet and retrieved the cell phone from the dead receptionist's pocket. Mace did the same with one of the unconscious guards. They deciphered each other's numbers and hurried outside.
As Mace flagged down the first cab, his eyes seem to want to ask a question, but his mouth wouldn't dare. "Be careful, Lyra. Your old handler seems to have a lot of tricks up his sleeve."
She nodded. "I know. You be careful too."
Her hand brushed his shoulder, as he stepped into the car and left her alone on the sidewalk.
She sighed to herself. "I knew the blood was a bad idea." She used an app on the dead receptionist's phone to catch another vehicle to take her to the other bomb. She typed in the destination. "I probably should’ve just left the microwaved vampire on the ground to rot. Damn it."
When the cab arrived, she jumped in and slammed the door. "Get there as fast as you can and I'll give you a big tip. Besides, an old friend is buying."
The driver pulled up the address on his GPS. "You got it. Wrigley Field, here we come."
Chapter Nineteen
Lyra arrived a block away from the north side of the ballpark to avoid some of hubbub as she walked along the sidewalk to an iconic city landmark. The sound of cheering fans and organ music filled the neighborhood air. Lyra easily got a discounted ticket from a scalper trying to get rid of his stash halfway through the game.
She glanced up at the surrounding area, which was covered in construction that never seemed to end. The old bars and buildings she used to frequent in college had been knocked down to pave the way for posh hotels and shops that would change the feel of Chicago forever. But in the midst of the revitalization, nothing could truly change a building with over a century of history. She stepped past the ticket taker and felt a wave of mystical
energy that seemed to come whenever she entered a building that was more than a couple of decades old.
She knew that the magic of Wrigley Field drew humans and unhumans alike to the friendly confines. There was only one problem with that: Piers knew that among tens of thousands of fans, he would take out plenty of unhumans in disguise.
She stepped into the lower level of the stadium and watched the fans in blue and red cheering for their hometown team. The Cubs had a one run lead in the eighth inning, but she had a feeling her handler wouldn't let the game end without a bang. As she approached her row, she closed her eyes and reached out to feel the energy that the bomb might have left behind.
Piers had taught her this ability, of course, but it didn't come easily. In a world of distractions, it was easy to lose sight of the people around you, let alone their mystical energy. Somehow, in the midst of thousands of cheering locals, Lyra was able to reach a meditative state. She reached out from the inside and felt humans and unhumans alike. Sitting underneath it all was a dark current of energy that felt archaic. She didn't have to be an expert in qi to know it was deadly as well.
"This is really bad. If I don't stop this thing, Wrigley Field is gonna become a graveyard."
Lyra opened her eyes, but she no longer saw the visible realm alone. She could see the spiritual energy in everything. Her feet guided her forward down the cement stairs as she looked onto the field. It was easy in her state to ignore the balls and strikes and focus completely on her objective. On the well-manicured, green field, Lyra spied a faint yellow glow. The energy underneath second base, in the midst of the baseball diamond, was where she knew she could find the bomb.
Lyra wasn't surprised that she could sense the energy of something so potentially destructive. What did surprise her was that she could feel exactly what Doug had mentioned. Both his computers and her sixth sense could tell the exact same thing: the weapon was counting down.
Chapter Twenty
Lyra blinked a few times to get her vision back in line with reality. The sounds of the game and the fans around her reentered her senses. The area below second base was no longer glowing in her field of vision, but she knew what she had to do.
"Now how the hell am I going to get on the field to stop it?"
She considered her options. She knew that interrupting the game would not only draw the ire of the security guards on the field, but she might have 30,000 angry diehards to deal with as well. She took out her stolen cell phone and considered dialing in a bomb threat until several unhumans who'd shed their disguises made the decision for her.
She heard a scream, which multiplied amongst the fans, as two werewolves and an eight-foot-tall reptilian creature stormed the field. She had to give the security staff credit for giving it the old college try, but their efforts to subdue what at first glance might look like strangely costumed fans, were completely unsuccessful. She watched one guard take a particularly nasty slash from the werewolves' claws to the back. The creatures approached the infield, and players and fans alike began sprinting to safety. There was havoc all around Lyra, and she was being pushed the wrong way in the fan base's efforts to get the hell out of Dodge. She cleared a path with her arms and pressed down hard with her feet. With a flying leap through the air, the former hunter landed on home plate. Even with thousands of people running for the nearest exit, she felt a faint sense of history when she stepped onto the field. But there was no time to reminisce about the legendary status of the park or all the secretive mystical happenings that occurred within its walls. Instead, Lyra picked up the wooden baseball bat that one player had dropped in his effort to escape.
She smiled as she tightened her grip around the handle. "Hey, Uglies!"
The two werewolves turned in her direction and snarled, their large pointed teeth bared.
She licked her lips. "Batter up." The unhumans dropped to all fours and dashed toward her with incredible speed. The first werewolf met an unfortunate fate, as Lyra cracked him in the side of the head with her bat. The impact both broke the weapon in two, and seemed to split the creature's brain in half as well. The wolf collapsed in a heap as the broken shards of the bat littered the infield. The second wolf charged at the now-weaponless Lyra, who tossed the broken handle in the creature's outstretched mouth before it could take a bite out of her arm. When the wolf leapt for a second strike, Lyra sprinted and slid on both knees underneath the beast. Her knees crossed home plate as the unhuman floated above her just in reach of her fists. With a well-timed punch, Lyra's knuckles struck the creature's groin. With a whimper that sounded more puppy than predator, the werewolf landed on the grass with a thump. Lyra got back to her feet quickly and knocked the growling creature unconscious with a kick to the side of his whimpering face.
She looked toward second base, where it seemed the tall reptile was digging into the dirt.
"Two outs. One to go."
She sprinted toward the unhuman and had reached the pitcher's mound when a wave of unexpected fire shot out of the creature’s mouth. She dove to her left, barely dodging the flames that threatened to engulf her. As soon as she landed, another fiery breath shot towards her, and this time, she wasn't as lucky. While she avoided the worst of it, her lower leg caught fire from the blast. She could feel her ankle burning under her pants, but it took all her energy to avoid the next wall of flames. Upon landing awkwardly on the ground, she looked up at the creature, who seemed to have temporarily run out of gas.
She rolled to her left and pulled her ankle toward her to pat out the flames. "A fucking dragon? You have got to be kidding me."
The moment she put out the fire, a new blast headed in her direction.
While her ankle stung from its dance with flames, Lyra knew she couldn't keep this up much longer. She ran straight toward the beast, waiting to dive until the last possible second before rolling forward and continuing to run towards the creature. After repeating her pattern three consecutive times, she was almost completely out of breath but finally within striking distance. She swung wildly at the dragon's face, which didn't seem to do much more than piss it off. A last second forward flip was the only thing that got her out of a point-blank barbecue. Unfortunately, she landed on her crispy ankle, tumbling to the side and leaving herself wide open for the next flambé.
She looked up into the dragon's eyes as he opened his mouth wide and prepared to strike. But in the moment before the flames were about to come pouring out of his mouth, a small, white projectile clunked into the side of his head. The dragon put one clawed hand to the site of the forming bruise as a trio of baseballs zipped through the air, two of which hit him in the midsection. The dragon roared with anger, giving Lyra a quick opportunity to see what the hell was happening.
She could barely believe her eyes. A half dozen-drunken fans had gotten into the dugout and were tossing a bucket’s worth of baseballs in the general direction of the dragon. She couldn't make out much from their garbled rantings, but she could swear she heard a "Boooo!" in there somewhere.
With the dragon occupied by the onslaught, Lyra had just the opening she needed. When she spied a sizable sharp chunk of wood from the earlier broken bat, she leapt toward it and grasped it in her left hand. As the dragon screamed and shot fire in the direction of the dugout, Lyra made it behind the creature and readied her weapon. With a sprinting thrust, she stabbed the dragon directly through the heart. Black blood gushed out as the unhuman screamed before collapsing onto the infield.
She knelt beside the fallen reptile. "I guess Daenerys will never find you after all."
Lyra took a moment to wave at the drunks before she checked her wounded ankle. While it did sting in the open air, she thanked her luck that the burns were superficial at best.
When she turned her attention toward the hole beside second base, she could see part of the bomb glowing through the dirt. The moment she unearthed the unholy creation, her phone began to ring.
Placing the bomb gently on the ground, the answered the recepti
onist's cell. "Dead girl's phone."
"Lyra, this is Doug."
She shook her head. "You guys are wasting a lot of money on weird technology. How do I stop this thing, Sandwich Man?"
Doug's voice was calmer than she expected on the other line. "It works on a sort of magical circle system. All you have to do is introduce an element from the physical world into it and you should be okay."
Lyra scrunched up her nose. "In English?"
"Hit it really hard with something that isn't magical."
"Now you're speaking my language." Lyra sprinted to the on-deck circle and came back to second base with another wooden bat in her hands. "Really glad this bomb didn't have anything to do with that red wire/blue wire shit." With a massive wind up and swing, Lyra brought the bat down upon the bomb.
The glow and hum of the magical device faded away into nothingness. The fourth bomb had been defused.
Lyra picked the phone back up. "It's done. Have you heard from Mace?"
Doug's voice went from clear to static in a hurry and by the time it faded back in, it was no longer the skinny bearded man who spoke.
"Lyra, you impress even your former teacher."
She wished her mentor was close enough that she could reach him with her bat. "Wrigley Field was a nice touch, Piers. Why don't you tell me where the last bomb is?"
"Your vampire friend found it almost right away. Unfortunately for the prince, I found him before he could do much about it."
Lyra tossed her wooden bat far into the stands. It landed with a hollow thunk.
"What do you want, Piers?"
"I’m texting you an address. Please be there promptly. Otherwise… you may miss the show."
Chapter Twenty-One
Lyra stepped onto the ground floor of the half-completed sky-rise. Through the unfinished walls and beyond the steel girders, she could see the sun beginning to descend toward the horizon. She knew there wasn’t much time left.
