They always went to ground in the most obvious hiding places.
Thanks for the lessons, though, sweetheart, he thought. Thanks, sweetheart. Not for the first time he’d had the thought tonight, Haven realized. Damn the woman—monster—girl. Nice girl. No. To think like that negated everything he needed to believe. Had believed?
Wanted to believe. Why did he want to believe?
She was right. Ambiguity sucked.
“But sometimes you have to live with it,” he murmured and pounded a fist in frustration against an old stone wall. Debris tumbled down from overhead, leaving Haven choking from a cloud of disturbed mold and dust. His lungs already ached from inhaling smoke, and his eyes stung as well. He didn’t appreciate this added discomfort, which he’d brought on himself.
He’d spent his whole life bringing shit down on himself—until he’d discovered the vampires.
His purpose and salvation was in killing vampires, he reminded himself. He couldn’t have gotten to the women on the houseboat with Char there—and not just because she was stronger and faster than he was. He suspected he hadn’t tried to do them because he couldn’t bear to see the look on Char’s face when he killed the lady vampire and her new girlfriend. But Danny boy was a different story. He’d get Danny tonight, worry about the others tomorrow, he told himself, blinking hard to clear his vision in the near darkness of the underground.
But his vision didn’t clear, and it only got darker. It was damp down here, and cold, and getting colder by the second. “Shit,” he muttered.
Then Haven heard the mumbling.
A spell. Shit. Somebody was putting a spell on him?
“Fuck that,” Haven growled, brought up the shotgun.
The attack came from behind.
Broken glass slashed across Haven’s shoulder and down his arm. It was enough to throw off Haven’s aim as he turned and fired.
“Why didn’t I drive?” Char muttered between panting breaths. “No, I had to let Mr. Macho take his Jeep tonight.”
It hadn’t been that long of a run, but she wasn’t used to this sort of exertion. Besides, she alternated cursing with crying the whole way, not to mention dodging rioters. Expending all that emotion was more tiring than the exercise. She leaned against an old stone wall, breathed in mildew, and swore silently at Jebel Haven some more. The man was stubborn and fanatical and was going to kill Daniel just because he thought he should. Just out of habit!
“Well, I won’t have it,” she muttered as she followed him along the dark, magical trail. “He’s had his chance. He’s done his job. The next time I see the man, he’s dead. Period. It’s over. Finished.”
The darkness got darker with each step she took deeper into the labyrinth of the buried streets. Her determined fury grew deeper with each snarled word, with every inch she drew closer to her quarry. Until her diatribe was suddenly drowned out by a cry of pain and the thunderous discharge of both barrels of a shotgun.
Char’s fury shifted focus in the roaring echo that bounced off the old walls. She shouted, “Jebel!” Pulling her dagger from its sheath, she ran.
The air reeked with blood and magic when she reached them. Sick, sick hunger hit her like a wall of flame. The men were on the ground rolling around like a pair of frenzied animals in the dark corridor. Haven’s shotgun was on the ground. The horrible battle before her was being fought to the death with mortal hands and teeth and will.
Insanity rose off Haven’s opponent like steam. Jebel’s determination to survive, to kill, was rich and red and controlled and slashed like a laser. Neither man noticed Char. Neither man was aware of anything but the other. Their intensity was painful against her psychic senses.
Char put away her dagger and jumped into the fray anyway.
The bastard was strong for all that he was nothing but gristle and bone and unwashed human stench. And slippery as water. Every time Haven thought he had a good grip, the wraith slipped out of it and came at him another way. Haven was hurting the man all right, but he was being hurt, and the bastard was a determined little fuck. There was no stopping until somebody was dead, and that was just fine with Jebel Haven.
He kept on fighting—until, abruptly, there was nothing there in the darkness for him to fight.
Haven didn’t know why the weight of his attacker was suddenly absent, but he sprang back into a low crouch the instant he felt the other man move. He spun and kicked, aiming for a darker piece of darkness across the corridor. His foot caught nothing but air. He spun again at a low cry behind him. He kicked again, contacted flesh with a hard thud. Heard the loud crack of breaking bone. A whimper this time.
A plea. “Angel . . .” A prayer spoken low and raspy.
Haven moved toward the voice. The magical darkness began to blow away, enough for him to make out not one, but two figures on the ground. One of them was Char. She held Haven’s attacker in her arms.
“His spinal cord’s broken,” she said and stood, still holding the limp body. The man in her arms groaned when she turned.
Haven followed when she strode determinedly off. “Where are you taking him?”
“I smell candle wax up ahead.” They came around a corner, and Haven made out the faint, warm glow from a hole low in the wall. “There,” she said. “Daniel’s in there.”
Haven had had a pack with his toolkit when he was attacked. He’d lost it during the fight. His shotgun was back along the corridor, too. Not that he was completely unarmed now, he never was, but he’d be happier if he went to meet vampire Danny Novak better equipped.
“Why?” Char asked.
Haven pretended that she hadn’t just read his mind or emotions, and he didn’t say anything. She let it go. The man in her arms groaned again. “He’s going to die,” she said.
Haven was all in favor of that. He didn’t know why she’d brought the vampire’s minion with her. And it also occurred to him that maybe he hadn’t been the one who’d broken the man’s spine.
“Char?”
They’d reached the half-sunken opening, and she ignored him to lower the limp body through what might have been a window a hundred years ago. She followed the body inside, and Haven followed her. The candles gave a cozy glow and a small amount of warmth to a small, filthy, littered den.
Haven got a good look at the vampire in the corner as Danny Novak lifted his head. He was blond and blue-eyed, handsome but for the prominent front teeth. He looked a lot like his mom.
When Char grabbed the injured man again, it wasn’t gently. She dragged his body across the small room and tossed him in Danny Novak’s lap. “This is yours,” she said.
She stood over the young vampire, harsh and angry, and Danny slowly looked up and up to meet her gaze. She was not a tall woman, but from that angle Haven thought she must look pretty impressive—like an avenging angel or a judge.
“Mine?” Danny Novak asked. He didn’t seem to notice that he was stroking the other man’s hair.
“Your companion,” she said. “He’s insane. Dangerous. Filth. He’s a killer and the willing pawn of killers. This is not good, Daniel, and it’s your fault.”
The boy blinked slowly. “Me?”
“Do you know what an Enforcer is? What I am?” Danny stared at her for a while, but he finally nodded. She nodded decisively back. “Why did you do this, Daniel?”
“Do?”
“Why did you make him your companion? You don’t have that right. You’re too young.”
“He’s my companion? Somebody told me about compan—” Danny’s stunned expression turned to one of disgust. “Him? Blech. No.”
“Your blood fills him. Smell it.”
“My blood? Yeah. I fed him, but not ‘cause. . . I don’t want a companion!”
“Then why did you share your blood with him?”
“He took care of me. The others kept me sick, wouldn’t let me go.” Danny kept stroking the man’s hair. “They made it dark around me.” He blinked. “Like I had fog in my head . . . not so bad now.�
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“The spells they used to imprison you are wearing off. And you seemed to manage to survive teething on your own. It won’t be so bad after this, Daniel. If you make it to morning.”
“Big if,” Haven added. Char didn’t act like she heard him.
The dying man opened his eyes and ate Danny with his gaze. He didn’t move, though. Couldn’t move. And his breathing was ragged and growing weaker.
“He wouldn’t eat,” Danny explained to Char. “He was always hungry, but he wouldn’t eat. I didn’t want him to die. You can’t let someone die if you can do something to help them. Unless they’re evil, and it’s a hunt.” He sounded like he was repeating a catechism lesson.
Char nodded at his answer, satisfied. It made Haven think briefly of her as Sister Mary Charlotte, mother superior of some weird order of fanged nuns. Unless they’re evil and it’s a hunt. Haven rubbed his jaw. What kind of monsters lived by rules like that? “Monsters aren’t supposed to be ethical,” he muttered.
Char continued to ignore him. “He belongs to you, Daniel,” she said, gesturing at Danny’s companion. “There’s another lesson you have to learn right now. A very important lesson. A very simple one. And that is, if you make a mess, clean it up.” She took a step back out of the corner. “He’s served you the best way he could, as damaged and warped as he is. He deserves to die, but you have to make it the best death you can.” Finished with what she had to say, she gave him one long, hard look, then turned her back on him and took one more step away.
Danny boy looked after her for another confused moment, then down at his companion. The man stared back with complete worship in his fading eyes. Danny smiled gently at him, and breathed a soft, comprehending, “Oh.”
Haven saw the shift in Danny’s features, saw Danny’s lips pull back, the bright white fangs grow. He should have been repulsed, but the change made Danny Novak beautiful. He looked like an angel when he lowered his head to the man’s throat.
Haven stayed where he was, next to the entrance, and watched. What he saw was a vampire feeding, but this time he thought it was right. Acknowledging the rightness of a vampire draining the blood from an already dying human disturbed him, but Haven would have been more disturbed if that particular sick piece of human shit lived to fight another day.
And since when did he use words like disturbed? Pissed off. He would have been pissed off. Char had messed up his mind and his vocabulary, not to mention totally trashing everything he believed in.
“You’ll get over it.”
His gaze shifted from the feeding vampire to meet her eyes, and he wondered how long she’d been looking at him, into him, while he watched that creature take a human li—
“He’s dead,” Char cut him off.
“You sure?” Haven demanded. “Is he going to wake up as an undead in a couple of minutes?”
“That isn’t how our kind of vampire is made. It isn’t an infection with us—none of that hillbilly animated dead corpse crap in our family tree. Besides, Daniel’s too young to make a blood-child.”
“You’re sure?”
“I’m sure. Let it go, Jebel. I feel sorry for that poor man in some ways. I think he was always dead. Some people can’t be saved. Some shouldn’t be. You were,” she added. “Finding out about the underneath world was the best thing that ever happened to you. It gave you purpose, Jebel. Some of us need a higher purpose to be truly alive. But once you go through that first hidden door . . .” Char shrugged. “You can’t step back and close it, and you aren’t the type to bang around in the vestibule forever. You’re the sort who eventually goes looking for doors to the wider underworld. That’s when it gets tricky. The doors are there, but they have guardians.”
“Like you.”
“Yes. The truth is out there,” she added with a smile that showed a bit of fang. “And it will eat you.”
Welcome to the underneath world, all right, Haven thought. He shrugged. “Maybe I won’t bother with the doors. Maybe I’ll blast my way in.”
“It’s already too late for that, Jebel. You know about us, but we know much more about you. That’s my fault, I’m afraid. I check for people who do the same sort of research I do.” She made a small gesture, which included a whole world. “Welcome to the underground, Mr. Haven. Tourists aren’t allowed; you have to live here.”
Or die here. That was too obvious to be spoken or even implied.
“Or maybe you’re just imagining it,” she said.
He shook his head. “You’re not a very good liar, Charlotte. You came down here to kill me.” He pointed at Danny boy. “To save him.”
“Or kill him. I had to have a face-to-face with him before I could make a decision about whether he was victim or villain. Could have gone either way.” The boy vampire in the corner made a startled noise, but she paid no attention to him. She continued to concentrate on Haven as she wiggled her hand slightly. “If I decided Daniel disobeyed the Laws, if I believed he’d been a willing accomplice of the sorcerer in killing those people, then his life was forfeit. I think he’s innocent of murder. I’ve decided not to kill him.”
She didn’t consider Danny boy’s draining the life from his human protector murder? She called it justice. Haven tried to tell himself he was being warped by this crazy woman’s ideas of justice, but that didn’t stop him from agreeing with her.
Haven crossed his arms; the gesture was almost as casual as it looked. “You haven’t denied that you came here to kill me.”
“Could have gone either way,” she repeated. She sighed loudly, and it echoed around the little room. “You’re right, I’m not a good liar. The truth is, I have orders to kill you because you’re likely to become a threat to my people.”
“I’m flattered.”
“You’re tough and you’re tenacious. I think you do necessary work, but I see my boss’s point about stopping you before you got too close. Didn’t mean I wanted the job of executing you. I came to Seattle to find Daniel to avoid having to carry out that assignment. But since fate doesn’t let people with our sort of gifts off the hook, of course you showed up in Seattle, too.”
“And you used me to kill a demon.”
She tried to look shocked and surprised. She didn’t fake those very well, either.
“I did notice you weren’t in on that fight. I’ve seen you vamped out to the max, sweetheart. You could have taken him.”
Char looked furious for a moment, then embarrassed, then she laughed—quite sincerely. “You’re too quick on the uptake for your own good, Jebel. You’re right; I can’t kill demons.”
“Only allowed to kill other vampires, sweetheart? And humans who get in your way?”
“Something like that. Having you show up was very useful for me . . . so I used you. But you enjoyed the challenge of killing a demon, didn’t you?”
Haven started to protest that that wasn’t the point, that she’d used him. Then he thought, What the hell? “Best night I’ve had in years,” he admitted. “Except for last night in the alley,” he added as she started to get a look of female outrage. “Best sex I ever had. So . . . last night . . . was . . . the best. Night.” It was, wasn’t it? Damn. And she hadn’t bit him or put a spell on him or anything, had she? She’d just been herself. “Wait a minute, why am I trying to pacify a woman who’s going to kill me?”
She shrugged. She didn’t look very happy about what she said next. “I don’t want to kill you.”
Char’s heart was breaking as she looked at the mortal—the man, the lover, the hero—across the room. His injuries didn’t show up in any stark detail in the candlelight, but she could sense the unshielded heat and throb of pain, both physical and psychic alike. She should thrive on drinking in all the raw reality of his personality, but she never had been that kind of girl. “Some of us are monsters,” she heard herself explaining to him. “Immortality can make people careless and callous, decadence sets in like rot. We need to hunt. My kind thrive on draining emotion, and fear is an easy emotion,
vampire fast food. But it doesn’t have to be—” Char made a helpless, frustrated gesture. “Just because you have to be a predator doesn’t mean you can’t be an ethical one. You, of all people, should understand that.”
She was talking too much, thinking too much, all of it to avoid what had to be done. Truth was, if she was going to live by her own moral compass, she had no reason or right to kill Jebel Haven. He had done nothing to harm her people. Potential threat, yes, but—
A fist of dread clamped around Char’s heart as she saw a way out and stepped to one side of the room. She was no longer between Jebel Haven and Daniel Novak. Daniel’s eyes were closed, his head back, stoned and sated on blood. Vulnerable. He wouldn’t see an attack coming.
Haven’s attention focused sharply on Daniel rather than her. His faux relaxed posture changed. Haven drew not one weapon, but two, a gun in one hand, a wickedly pointed wooden stake in the other.
Jebel Haven had come here to kill a vampire.
She could not allow a helpless vampire to be killed.
Please, Jebel, Char thought, and she prayed to deities she didn’t quite believe in. Please make this easy for me.
She held her breath, turned her face toward the shadows, and put her hands behind her back to cloak the appearance of fangs and claws, and waited.
And waited.
Haven didn’t move. She expected him to, she prayed for him to. A candle burned out, taking some light and warmth from the underground chamber. Her senses registered the dampness of the place, the musty, dusty, bloody, decayed smells beneath the pervasive aroma of burning wax. Mostly, Char was aware of Jebel Haven’s tense heartbeat, the heated scent of his bruised skin over taut muscles, and the singing, adrenaline-drenched blood beneath the surface. She was even more aware of the burning in her head, her gut, and her heart. And of how much she didn’t want to kill him.
But she would. She knew she would. One step toward Daniel, and she would.
“I can’t.”
Laws of the Blood 2: Partners Page 21
