Bad Impression : A Sadie Salt Novel (Sadie Salt Series Book 2)

by Ware Wilkins

  “Don’t bite down,” I warn as I fit the forceps over the broken bicuspid. Grounding myself, bending knees for a low center of gravity, I pull the tooth much in the way a person would deadlift in a gym. It’s all quads and booty muscles, yo’.

  The tooth pops out. The female vampire immediately releases the queen, who’s off the chaise in a flash, howling and punching through the wall. “Goddamn that hurt!”

  Then he’s beside me, hand out and open. “Tooth, please.”

  It feels good in my palm, crackling with power. With reluctance, I hand it back. “Well, I’ll just be--”

  The queen stiffens and holds up a hand to silence me. A ripple of fear passes through my limbs. Is he going to go back on his promise? The queen might be over the top, but he seems like a man of his word. Then again, he’s got it bad for Benji, and people, paranormal and not, do crazy things for love.

  “Unbelievable,” he says, and manages to sound genuinely surprised. “We’re under attack, too.” His eyes dart to the other vampire and she nods.

  “We’ll stay here until they’ve eliminated the hunters.”

  My palms sweat and my heart flips in my chest. “There are hunters here? Now?” But as I say it, I pull the pendant Dr. Winston gave me from under my shirt. It’s glowing just like it did back at the apartment.

  “Yes. At least twenty.” He waves his hand in the air. “That’s nothing. They’ll be dispatched of quickly.”

  For all his bravado, the queen undoes the sash on his robe and lets it slink off his shoulders. I blush and turn around, but not before I see a bubble booty that would make anyone jealous, firm and high and perfectly rounded. He’s got the body of Adonis, red lacquered nails like he’s from Jersey Shore, and makeup that would make RuPaul proud.

  “I’m decent,” he says after some rustling. When I turn around, I see he’s changed into a flowery women's blouse and tight capris that leave nothing about his package to the imagination.

  Because I’m hyper worried, I want a distraction. The teeth in my pocket are calling to me, and I’m not going to listen, damn it. “Why do you wear women’s clothing?”

  “Do you ask all transvestites that?”

  “I don’t know that many.”

  He sneers at me. “How very country of you. I wear what I want to because I can. Besides, I have most of my clothing tailored for me, since my frame is larger than the standard sizing in stores. I’d argue that because I bought them and are wearing them, they aren’t women’s clothes, they’re mine.”

  This actually makes me smile. “Touche.”

  I start packing up my tools, not knowing what else to talk about and eager to get out as soon as I can.

  But instead of getting the all-clear from the queen, he puts a finger to his mouth. “Sadie, you may want to grab your bat. We’re heading out.”

  It sounds off-hand, but I pick up what he’s laying down: there’s actual, real trouble outside. “Shouldn’t I stay here, out of the way?”

  “That would be the polite thing to do,” he concedes. “But I’m not inclined to be polite to you. I don’t want you in my room unattended. Let’s go.” It’s an order and I shut my mouth, grab my stuff, and motion that I’m ready to follow. He’s an ass, but he’s also the queen of this nest and there are a number of vampires and hunters between me and getting out of here. I’m not going to provoke him further.

  We move swiftly through the house. Queen Jeremy’s strides are graceful and confident, a hidden strength hinted at with each step. We can hear shouting and screaming getting louder. As soon as we emerge from the front door, we’re greeted by a bloodbath.

  I can see the shock in the queen’s face. Understandably, I think he imagined that the fighting would be close to completion and was already surprised that his aid was needed. But I doubt he thought it would be needed this much.

  There are parts of vampires mixed in with bits of hunters littering the frosted ground. They are literally tearing each other apart. I chew the inside of my cheek, trying to fully comprehend the carnage. The hunters are fighting one on one, but they seem to be on almost equal ground with the vampires. Hunters, who are supposed to be human, are matched up evenly with one of the deadliest paranormal races I know of.

  “This can’t be happening,” the queen snarls. He doesn’t throw a pity party, though. Queen Jeremy launches himself into the fray. His leap itself is a thing of beauty, the distance he covers far longer than seems possible. It places him next to a handful of hunters that are surrounding another vampire.

  His fighting skills leave a chill in my bones. I can barely see his moves, they’re so fast, but one by one the hunters fall. The floral shirt is stained red in a heartbeat. His beautiful, made up face is splashed with gore. In the dark of the night, his long fangs twinkle like a pair of deadly stars.

  I’m so caught up in watching him, and it happens so quickly, that it isn’t until a hunter sees me and starts darting up the stairs toward me that I realize I’m alone.

  “You’ll regret being one of their blood bags, bitch.”

  “That’s… really impressive alliteration, given the circumstances,” I reply. He falters in his approach at my retort, giving me a chance to drop my bag of dental tools and grip Respect with both hands, bringing the bat to the ready.

  When he sees the baseball bat, he laughs. “We’re ripping apart vamps, and you think a bat is going to save you?”

  My hip is on fire, the bones calling out to me through denim. It would be so, so easy to absorb them and smoke this jerk. Grinding my teeth, I ignore the pain and sink lower into my stance. “I guess we’ll find out.”

  He comes at me fast, but I’m ready for it, and I swing hard. It wouldn’t matter if I hadn’t put the weight of my body into the swing. Respect is buzzing in my hands, sensing my need and eager for the fight. When the bat connects, my arms don’t jar like they did when I hit Benji. The hunter’s body doesn’t go flying.

  Instead, his skull just buckles in like an overripe melon, and he drops. I refuse to look at the corpse at my feet. The tools Oliver made me are unimportant right now. All I can think about is getting to a good hiding place. Scanning the clusters of fights, I can see to the right a small open space to run through.

  Reinforcing my magic shield, I tap into the last bit of residual bone power I have left over from the teeth that Ms. Nickles gave me. This is twice now she’s saved my life, even if that hadn’t been her intention when she’d given me the teeth. I chant the words for invisibility and max out the last bit of juice. I can feel the strain of the spell. There’s just enough time to make it through the brawls and hide in some bushes.

  Sprinting hard, I run, Respect firmly in my hands. My legs pump and my heart pounds and all too soon there’s a stitch in my side. If I’m going to keep getting in these kinds of situations, I need to start working out. The bushes rustle as I dive in, but fortunately everyone is so wrapped up in the battle they don’t notice.

  If this is happening here, where hunters should never have been able to hold their own against vampires, my gut seizes with panic at what’s happening with the pack. As the slaughter continues, all I can picture is Abe, lying in his wolf form, throat torn out, and Benji, pale and truly dead beside of him. I’m dizzy with worry.

  The fastest way to get to them is to help end this battle. I wish I’d had more time to talk to Oliver. It was the first time I can’t think of where he’d been not only forthright, but gentle. He answered my questions without his usual biting sarcasm. And… he’d asked about my magic. It feels like that means he’s opening up to it. If we could find teeth for me to use that wouldn’t make me feel riddled with guilt, then he could help me shape and strengthen my magic for good.

  I could use it to keep my promise to Ms. Nickles. I could use it to keep all of Grimloch safe from things like hunters, and attacks like the ones tonight.

  Sadie Salt. That is just the magic talking again. Oh, bone magic… so incredibly devious. I’ve fallen right back into the acceptance
that makes using the magic seem like such a good idea. This addiction is ruthless, morphing so that just when I get used to saying “no,” it has already figured out a new approach to lure me in.

  Instead, I decide to fight. Not to sink back into the comfortable cushion of my power or try and create excuses, however well meaning, to use it. If I want to learn how to help protect my town, I need to do it starting with this fight, my two hands, and this lovely, blood-thirsty bat Uncle Oliver so kindly made for me.

  Moving slowly, I begin to slide up beside a hunter. My power is tapped out; I’m not only fully visible, but my shield is gone. The scent of my magic is no longer hidden. But that’s a worry for after. Right now, I need to help.

  Swinging my bat, it finds its home with ease, shattering the collarbone of a hunter that was pinning a vampire. The vampire, seeing his advantage, rolls the hunter over and bites viciously into the neck of his foe. My arms aren’t feeling quite as numb and Respect is… hungry.

  Its hunger moves in ripples and waves, lending me strength, encouraging me to swing it again. Unlike the bones, I’m not concerned about costing someone their chance at the afterlife. I’m just sending them there. Whether or not they can pay the Ferryman is on them.

  Each time I swing and connect with an arm, a neck, a sternum, I think of Abe and Benji, willing myself to believe that they’re okay. Keeping them, and Ingrid, and even grumpy Uncle Oliver in my heart gives me a strength I previously thought I only had through my magic.

  It’s exhilarating and horrifying, the two emotions so closely intertwined that I’m unable to tell the difference. But quickly, the fight begins to turn in our favor. I wish it was solely my efforts. But while I’m helping, the hunters are beginning to tire out. Vampires don’t tire out. The only thing that exhausts them is the sun. But the hunters, even with whatever they’re using to empower their fighting, are still human. Their muscles are starting to give, their tank is on empty, and one by one they falter, and then they die.

  When it’s finished, there is maybe half of the nest remaining. I can’t be sure, since I’m not familiar enough with the local vampires to have an accurate count, but of the faces I’ve seen at the house, a lot are missing. Everyone is drenched in blood. Some are feeding, their noisy, angry slurping the only thing I can hear besides my own rapid gasps.

  The queen is surveying the carnage. “Well, we can’t stand around all night. What’s left of it, anyway. Daylight’s just around the corner and all of this needs to be cleaned up.”

  Stunned, I wait for the protests. Surely there needs to be some recovery time, some time for mourning! Yet even as I think it, I understand. While fairly secluded, there was a lot of noise happening during the fight. If humans were to venture up here and see piles of corpses, there’d be major problems for the nest.

  I pick my way over to the queen. “I’m sorry for your losses,” I mumble.

  “It reeks of bone magic,” is his reply, and my heart ticks up a bit.

  “I can’t smell it,” I say, as if that’s not obvious, but maybe if I act like the dumb human he thinks I am, he won’t assume it is coming from me.

  He’s still staring at his home. “There’s no way humans should have been able to fight this hard and this long. This should have been a slaughter, with my nesters inside with sloshing bellies by now.”

  The queen stoops to the body of a hunter next to him. Without tact or care, he searches pockets and pulls out something I am all too familiar with. A small glass vial, filled with white powder. When he goes to remove the stopper, I shake my head. “I’ve seen that before. The ex-hunter who came after me had some.”

  “What is it?”

  “Magic-laced bone dust. Some witch is pumping them up on her magic. Like PCP but way, way worse. You need to set fire to these bodies now.”

  “They can reanimate?”

  “The ex-hunter did.” As I say it, some of the corpses begin to twitch. It’s a kick to my gut, sending me spiraling back to watching David’s lifeless body jerk up, ready to fight again. The difference is, the vampires move fast. Some go around, systematically dismembering any body that’s moving, while others follow with gasoline and matches.

  “It makes clean-up easier.”

  “Yeah, but that smoke will be visible for miles. Police or rangers may come up soon.” My voice is shaky. Seeing them handle the second wave before it becomes, well, a second wave should be reassuring. But I’m feeling too shaken to put myself all the way back together, the memory of Abe’s death and mauling too fresh in my mind.

  He shrugs. “I can deal with that. I’m more upset about our landscaping. This is absolutely going to ruin it. And this was my favorite shirt.”

  Well, now. I’ve wondered about what drove Benji away from Queen Jeremy. He’s claimed it was because the queen was more interested in Benji’s power than anything else. But Benji’s managed to retain a deep level of humanity. This vampire, mighty as he is, has just lost many of his nesters, and yet he’s standing here and making jokes. Hell, he might not even be joking that the things he’s most upset about are aesthetic trivialities.

  “I need to get back. I’m worried about Benji and Abe. Do you have someone who can take me?”

  “No. I need everyone’s efforts if we’re going to get this under wraps before dawn. I will, however, let you borrow a vehicle if you promise to call me when you find Benji.” There’s more to that sentence that he’s purposefully leaving out. Call me and tell me he’s okay. It’s the closest thing to decency I’ve seen in the queen.

  “Deal.”

  I’m speeding, the luxury sedan zooming effortlessly through Grimloch’s back roads. Snow is beginning to fall, flashing bright in the headlights. The tiny fluffs flutter and it should be so wonderful, so beautiful, but I’m angry because it’s forcing me to slow down. We don’t get enough snow and ice to warrant salt trucks here. Even if we did, they wouldn’t salt these backroads. The flurry is only making the road slick.

  It takes me almost an hour to get to the pack’s place. Their home is well on the other side of town from the nest, tucked into a separate mountain. When I pull into the tiny, gravel driveway my hands clench the wheel harder. All I’ve been thinking about is getting here and making sure Benji and Abe are okay. But while the new tires and excellent shock absorption of the expensive car make driving over the gravel easy, I’m slowing even more, too afraid of what I’ll find at the end.

  I keep searching the woods on either side of me for the flash of fur or glowing eyes. The wolf escort was scary before. The lack of one is alarming.

  When I pull out from the trees, large converted home coming into view, I’m greeted by the same scene I just left. There are bodies everywhere. It looks like the pack may even have fought off more hunters than the vampires did.

  Shouts draw my attention: the fighting isn’t over. Four wolves surround a reanimated body. It’s smiling and swiping at them. The wolves are sluggish, their attacks messy. But they’re also working together, taking turns, giving each wolf a small chance to breathe between attacks. They work smart, grabbing arms and working together to tear them off. It’s stomach-turning to watch, because the body just keeps on even as it loses limbs. But once they pull off a leg, it’s over.

  The body tumbles into the thin layer of accumulated snow, and two wolves dart in and begin to chew through the neck, severing the head.

  I shut the engine off and get out, keeping my bat with me just in case.

  The other wolves are circled in the far corner of the yard. Clearing my throat, I hold up my hands, bat leaning against my thigh. The wolves all turn and glare, so I don’t move. Finally, one trots over, a low warning growl in its throat, and smells me. Then it turns and pads away.

  Guess I’ve got the okay.

  I head over to the ring of wolves. My heart is pounding so hard I feel it everywhere; my toes, my fingers, my tongue, my eyes. All of me is this throbbing, pulsing feeling, no longer a body but two legs carrying a heart in stark danger of breaking
.

  When I get close, a familiar voice cuts through the fear. “Sadie,” Benji says, getting up from where he’d been kneeling among the pack. “What are you doing here?”

  We meet gazes. His eyes are green and bright. The snow has caught in his black hair, giving him a softer look. But the set of his mouth is grim, and I’m suddenly too afraid to talk.

  He feels it, my terror, and understands. “He’s not dead. We’re both alive.”

  I exhale, a rush so forceful that it ends in a choking sob, and I fling myself at him. My arms wrap tight around his waist and his chest is freezing against my wet face, but his smell is still so distinctly him and the solid wall of his body is a life raft. It takes him a moment to embrace me back, and when he does, it is loosely and with trepidation.

  A low keening drags my attention back to the pack. In the center of the pack are two large wolves. One, with brown and silver fur and large, yellow eyes, is lying on its side. It’s Alec. I can’t see the wound, but I can see the blood pooling into the snow underneath him. His lean sides and rounded ribcage shudder as they lift too slowly up and down.

  The other wolf is standing, tail wagging expectantly. It leans down and begins to lick the wounded wolf’s face. It’s Abe. I haven’t seen him fully shifted. He’s magnificent. His coat is the same thick, sandy color as his hair. It gives him an almost leonine quality.

  “You let them fight?”

  Benji gently, but firmly, pushes me away from him. “No. Alec was wounded when we realized the bodies were coming back. I think he wants Abe to finish him.”

  “But that would--”

  “Make him alpha of the pack. At just over three months old.”

  My fists are so tight that the crescent of my fingernails cuts into my palms. Alec has been worried about Abe’s transition and his stability, and now Abe hangs on a precipice of being forced to take on an enormous and unknown responsibility or truly become exiled should he not end Alec. Someone else will, then, and Abe’s inability to kill the alpha and take his place would be seen as too much of a weakness.