by Judy Mills
Rinse and repeat and hope that most of the residents kept their balconies as empty as the top two floors.
* * *
The flower pot overflowing with oregano crashed onto the flagstone patio behind me as I ran for the woods. Who knew so many people in Charlotte kept miniature farms on their balconies?
I heard the hollow grind of a sliding glass door being opened and knew one of the apartment residents had left their cozy living room to investigate the noise. A young woman dressed in a black tank top, faded jeans and black logger boots making a run for the woods with a computer under her arm did not bode well for the neighborhood. If they saw me, they'd call the police.
My legs ached from jumping down a string of balconies one by one, but I gritted my teeth and poured on the speed. A shout echoed behind me as I plunged into the undergrowth of the forest.
Pushing through branches and vines, I headed to the left where I knew the forest eventually dumped onto the edge of the Fourth Ward. From there, it was an easy stroll to the safe house.
Shadows gathered into dark puddles around trees and under the wild forsythia and blackberries that seemed to be everywhere, and I felt the hairs on the back of my neck lift. This part of Charlotte had been redone not long before the attacks but had taken a lot of damage in the fighting. Reclamation was slow, crawling down one street at a time like a geriatric armadillo. Eventually this forest would be leveled and turned into farmland, but for now, it was wild and wooly and I had to stay alert even in midday.
Apprehension hummed across my shoulders as I pushed deeper into the foliage and the light faded into a murky twilight. A fitful, hot breeze struggled through the branches above me, joining the rustling movement of the hidden things around me as if the woods whispered with a menacing life of its own.
Pressing my computer tighter against my side, I flicked off the safety strap on my holster with my right thumb and drew my Browning. Seven years ago, the gun had been modified by a talented friend of mine named Falcon. In addition to bullets, it held an arming chamber that shot hollow glucose-based dissolving needles filled with a special and highly illegal formula of my own. What shot out of my gun depended on what I was shooting at.
Among other things, the concoctions either contained oregano, which was poisonous to vampires, or ground moonseed, which debilitated Weres. Bullets would slow anything down to some extent, so I usually kept the gun at that setting.
Feeling more confident with my Browning in my hand, I picked up my pace, hurrying toward a break in the gloom that I hoped meant a path.
I pushed through a thick row of wild forsythia and hope surged through me when I found myself on a narrow dirt path. Any way through that had a little more clearance meant I could move quicker. The sooner I got out of these woods, the better.
The trail wound through the trees from right to left, so I broke into a jog and headed down it. Birds darted from branch to branch around me, which meant that for the moment the area was predator-free. The Weres hadn't traced me this far yet, and I hoped my luck would hold.
Sweat slicked the skin of my back and stomach as I jogged toward another bend in the path and my computer felt like it weighed fifty pounds. At least I was almost clear.
Deep in the murky light beneath the trees a shadow darted past me on the right and then another on the left. I tensed and everything sharpened as my senses went on high alert.
My gaze narrowed on the blind curve up ahead and I slowed to a walk. The forest hushed around me. I gripped my gun tighter as I rounded the curve in the path.
Two men blocked my way.
The brown-haired guy on the right I didn't recognize, but the other one I knew all too well. In fact, he'd tried to kill me a few months ago. I had the scar on my left shoulder from the bite to prove it.
The last time I'd seen him, he'd been a dried up corpse hanging from a dumpster with a steel rod driven through his stomach.
My day just kept getting better and better.
CHAPTER TWO
"Surprised?" Danny said, his mouth hardening into a smile that fell about a thousand feet short of friendly.
I studied the vampire and thought back to the night he'd attacked me. I'd been rescuing a young prostitute that he and two of his renegade friends had planned to drain. He was an inch short of average height, his pale skin covered in tattoos, black hair cut short on the sides and buzzed flat on top, and blue eyes as cold as a shark's.
He also had a Paranormal Restraining Collar, or PRC, locked around his neck. The gray collar was about as thick as my finger with a small, narrow code box attached to the front. The code box displayed a seven-digit key pad that opened the collar if the right code was punched in. When the collar was snapped on, the indicator light next to the keypad changed color depending on what you'd disabled—in Danny's case, red for vampire.
"How are you not puking your guts out?" I asked him, stalling for time to let the shock of seeing him wear off.
As long as a PRC remained in contact with the skin, an electromagnetic pulse suppressed the extra DNA that caused the manifestation of vampire, Were or practitioner traits and made them flat human. Practitioners were practically human anyway and were untroubled by the experience, other than not being able to use their abilities. For Weres it was mostly a disconcerting experience, robbing them of their hyper-senses and ability to shift. But for vamps?
For vampires it was a painful, sickening experience as their human DNA became suddenly dominant after being essentially dead, sometimes for hundreds of years. The only thing more surprising than a vamp returning from apparent death was one wearing a PRC and not showing any side effects.
"I'm magical," Danny said with a sneer.
"All talk and no bite. The collar makes you human, vamp. You're no threat to me."
Danny nodded to the mountainous Were. "Which is why I brought along a friend."
The Were's lip pulled up at the left corner in a recognized sign of disdain within his species. While Danny was currently temporarily human, his sidekick was not.
"Good thing I brought a friend, too. We can make it a foursome." I dove for the underbrush, firing off my Browning in rapid succession as the Were rushed me. I rolled to protect the computer when I hit the ground and came up shooting. Like vamps, Weres move fast and despite his size, this one was no exception. Unfortunately, all I could fire were bullets until I had time to switch the arming chamber.
The beast of a man took the hits, jerking with each one as if I were doing little more than slapping him as he charged down the path. I figured I had about two seconds before he was on me. I pulled in a breath to steady my hand while I rearmed my gun.
The vial of Were poison clicked into place and I fired. The needle with gold-tinted fluid shot out, hitting the Were in the neck. I knew as it sank in that it dissolved, leaving no trace other than the effects of the high-level of moonseed and whiskey.
The Were slapped at the dime-sized area of skin smoking on his neck, took a few more increasingly clumsy steps and fell like a tree. I sprang back to avoid being crushed. His clenched hand hit the ground by my leg.
A little too close for comfort in my opinion.
As his eyes rolled back in his head, I jumped to my feet and frantically coded my Browning back to bullets. Just as the special arming chamber disengaged into the barrel, the cold, sharp blade of a knife pressed against my throat.
From behind me, Danny reached around and grabbed my gun, pulling it from my grip. From the corner of my eye, I could see the hilt of the knife he held on me—a nasty-looking 15th century dagger that looked liked slitting throats was probably its favorite hobby.
"My uncle wishes an audience with you, Ms. Addison," he hissed in my ear.
"I live to disappoint Lord Bellmonte. I'd think you would, too."
He pressed the knife tighter to my throat as he also relieved me of my computer. As he tucked it under his arm, I felt a warm trickle of blood sliding down my neck. Where his body pressed against my back, I felt his s
udden tension.
"Times change," he said as he lowered the knife and moved slightly to the left, careful to remain behind me. "People die, people are brought back to life and go a little mad. It gives one a new perspective."
He pulled my gun from the waistband of his jeans and gestured with it for me to move forward.
"Not helping your attack dachshund?" I asked as we passed the unconscious Were.
"There shouldn't be too many bites out of him before he comes to."
A coughing bark echoed deep in the forest to our right and another answered behind us, sending a chill down my back. "I wouldn't count on it."
"Too bad. Were traitors are so hard to come by."
He sheathed the knife and I wondered if I could move fast enough to take him down. The sight of my Browning pointing at my face changed my mind. The arming chamber had fully retracted, making its secret safe, but also fully fitting it to discharge bullets.
Not being too keen on getting shot, I started walking.
* * *
When the wood-paneled elevator door to Bellmonte's penthouse opened, Danny gave me a hard slam in the middle of my back, pushing me out and into Bellmonte's living room. I rolled my shoulders against the sting between my shoulder blades and took in the modern, million-dollar décor of the Regent.
Immaculate taste reined supreme from one end to the other, as well as incredible pieces of history that a museum would kill to get its hands on. The statue of a Roman horse on the mantle was especially nice. Even Danny's head wasn't hard enough to withstand a solid piece of bronze like that.
Yup, the penthouse could be the home of any top-of-his-game politician or businessman if it wasn't for the lead panels covering the windows. That particular addition completely blocked the glow of the setting sun and screamed "house of vampire" like nothing else could. Ruined the elegant affect, in my opinion.
"I hope he's paying you well to be his delivery boy," I said as he blindly hit the call button to close the elevator door.
Danny gave me a tight smile as he laid my computer on the marble counter of the bar.
"I mean seriously," I continued. "So humiliating to deny your superior status and suppress your nature. I still can't figure how you're not curled up on the floor drooling from that PRC around your neck."
"Practice." Hefting my confiscated gun in his hand, Danny reached up to the PRC. Sensuously, he slid a forefinger along the slim, gray circle and stopped at the narrow keypad attached to the front. The small light next to it steadily glowed a deep, threatening red.
"Without your weapon, you're helpless." His evil smile deepened as he placed my gun next to the computer and tapped in a series of numbers on the keypad.
I slouched into a casual stance and hooked my right thumb into my belt. "Just another weak, stupid human."
Covertly, I slid out one of the clear, thin tubes filled with vamp poison from a slot in my belt. I pinched it between my thumb and forefinger, sharp end down.
"Don't worry. I won't kill you," Danny said as he tapped in the last number. "At least not until he's done getting what he wants. I'll drain you just enough to take away your strength to fight."
The PRC snapped open with a soft snick of sound. Tugging the collar off, he tossed it and my gun to the floor. His moderately handsome features morphed like melting wax into a monstrous parody of a human face. His skin faded into grey, dead flesh as it stretched tightly across his bones and the whites around his fevered, hungry eyes turned red with blood.
Danny opened his corpse-like mouth and a pair of curved fangs like a snake's slid down from the roof of his mouth and into the space where his human canines should have been.
He lunged at me with skeletal hands in a blur of movement. As he grabbed for me, I dodged and plunged the needle into his forearm. It broke off as I sprang away and the skin around the dime-sized site on his arm hissed and bubbled.
Danny shrieked with fury and pain and backhanded me. I flew across the living room and slammed into the wall as he clawed at the needle. Stumbling across the floor toward me like a drunk, he made it three steps and face planted on the thick carpet.
The penthouse elevator opened and Lord Bellmonte, Regent of Charlotte and leader of all vampires in the state of North Carolina, stepped out.
He was short for modern times, but as much as I hated to admit it, still managed to exude such a commanding presence that you hardly noticed. He was handsome, debonair and had a cool confidence that I admired, even though I hated him. His refined way of speaking and slight unidentifiable accent I could have done without though. The older vampires had nothing but time, and their long speeches tended to reflect that.
He narrowed his gaze on Danny's prone form. "Ever the charming guest, I see."
"He started it." I picked myself up off the floor.
Bellmonte brushed at some imaginary lint on the lapel of his Armani custom-made suit. "Sadly, I find that quite easy to believe." He stooped to retrieve the PRC and weapon from the floor. "And when was the last time you deigned to shower? You smell like an alley cat."
I edged along the wall, placing as much furniture between Bellmonte and me as possible. "Remember our contract."
"I think of nothing else day and night."
"I live a long, healthy life. No assassins, no unexpected accidents. That was the deal."
"In exchange for the surprisingly valuable information you obtained during your last case. I have not forgotten, child." He shoved Danny over with his foot. When he saw that his precious protégé was still breathing, he stepped over him and strolled to the bar to pour two glasses of wine.
He offered me one and I shook my head no. I had a policy never to consume anything from someone I didn't trust completely. Shrugging, he set the glass meant for me on the bar and sipped delicately from his own.
"Why am I here?" I asked.
"To my distress, my place of business was raided by the FBI today while I slept. Admirably sneaky, but unacceptable nevertheless. I nearly became cranky when I learned of it." He took another sip. "I would very much appreciate some clarity around this event. For example, did Agent Daine give this order?"
"They hit me, too."
"That is not an answer."
I ground my teeth. "Not that I know of. He'd have no reason to."
Bellmonte nodded and returned to savoring his wine. I waited, determined not to be the first one to cave. Who was I kidding? I hated waiting.
"What the hell do you want, Bellmonte?"
He narrowed his gaze at me and I felt a flicker of fear. Anger that he could so easily inspire terror quickly burned the feeling away.
"I do beg your pardon, Lord Your Highness Bellmonte. How may I serve you?" I asked, emphasis on the sarcasm.
Bellmonte admired the color of the wine in his glass. "I remember a time when 1734 was a good vintage year. Nineteen ninety-seven sounds so ridiculously young." He shrugged, finished his drink and placed the glass on the bar.
Between one blink and the next, he had me pinned against the wall, his hand on my throat. Almost as fast, I went for one of the needles in my belt.
"Ah, ah, ah," he said, grabbing my wrist. He pressed closer and I could feel the length of his compact body against mine. I wished I had some space to bring my knee up so I could teach him some manners.
"Did you know that your secret lover is suspected of taking bribes from a dangerous drug organization?" he said, amusement lacing his tone. "The very organization he pretends to hunt?"
I struggled, but he kept his grip on my wrist, pressing his forearm across my breasts to trap me more securely. The needle pinched between my thumb and forefinger glittered next to our faces.
"Never again, Ms. Kittner." Bellmonte squeezed down on my wrist. With an involuntary grunt of pain, I dropped the needle.
"I still don't know what you want from me, you son of a—"
He compressed the bones of my wrist just a little harder and I grit my teeth against the pain. "Careful, darling. I am very aware of the
subtle difference between an accidental maiming and a murder. I hope that you are as well."
After another second to make a point, Bellmonte eased up. His gaze went to my mouth and he stared at it like he very much wanted to take a bite out of me. The moment dragged out and then he stepped away as if nothing uncivilized had happened.
"Unfortunately, the manufacturing and peddling of drugs derived from our venom is punishable by death under vampire law," he said. "Due to the blunderings of your government, I now find myself in an inconvenient position. It will not take my Emperor long to wonder if I, too, am involved in this distasteful affair."
His gaze narrowed. "Get me the name of the individual who had the audacity to link my name to such depravity. Prove that your beloved Agent Daine is innocent of participating. If so, I will do what I can to clear his name. But if he's guilty...." He gave an elegant shrug. "You have four days."
"What if I can't?"
With apparent indifference, he gracefully moved to his comfortable sofa and seated himself, as elegant as any Regency lord. "I have a terrible tendency to do dreadful things to people's loved ones when I get cranky."
I dove for the bar. Rolling across the top, I grabbed my Browning and came up with it aimed at Bellmonte. He was still lounging like the prince of the palace, unfazed by any threat I cared to throw at him.
Snagging my computer, I backed cautiously toward the elevator. As I went, I engaged the needle discharge chamber and set the green vile, loading it for vamp.
"I'll be in touch." I hit the call button with my elbow.
"I can hardly express how delighted I am that you're willing to cooperate."
The elevator doors opened and I stepped aboard. "Go screw yourself, Bellmonte," I said as they slid shut.
* * *
I climbed up what I hoped would be my last fire escape of the night. At least this one was solidly attached to the building.
About seven floors up on the top floor, a locked window beckoned. The apartment behind it was dark. Nothing stirred on the street below or the roof. Of course, looks could be deceiving.
