by L. D. Rose
His blood running through that monster’s veins.
Blaze locked his attention on the skyline, unable to stand looking at the bastard any longer. Somewhere far off in the distance, a helicopter’s rotors beat. He tried to focus on it, to ignore what Nabila was doing, tried to think past the wet sounds, the pain, and the unwanted weight in his loins.
The bird was vaguely alight in his blurring vision, and it glowed brighter and brighter the closer it came. There he was, Charon in his ferry, sailing through the river Styx and coming to take Blaze away to Hades. How the fuck Cyrus had managed to get his claws on a Blackhawk was beyond Blaze, but he bet Alek Konstantinov had something to do with it.
Cyrus pushed off the windowpane and turned toward the sound, stepping out onto the balcony as glass crunched beneath his boots. Blaze wished he could pull a Rome and shove that fucker over the goddamn railing with his mind. The vampire braced his massive arms on the galvanized steel, Blaze’s half-burnt cigarette in hand, watching the bird come at them in the darkness.
This is it. The end.
And that’s when Blaze felt it.
Through the inferno of fury inside him, a growing excitement bloomed, the kind fueled by adrenaline, by fear. And he felt that fear, a fear so profound it could only be based on love. And God, there was love, solid arrow-through-the-heart love, and hope, purpose, courage. Determination. The faint scent of jasmine tickled his nose, and he wasn’t sure if it was real or his fucked-up imagination, but he knew for certain she was here.
Valerie was here.
Nabila stiffened, going still on top of him. Cyrus did the same, his broad back tense as his attention swung to the left, revealing his grim profile. Anger twisted the vampire’s dark face as Nabila withdrew from Blaze’s neck and let out a low catlike growl.
“Nabila,” Cyrus bellowed as he whipped around to face them, fangs flashing. “The lobby, now!”
She was off Blaze in an instant, bolting out of the room with weapons drawn. Relief washed over Blaze, but it was short-lived as Cyrus stalked toward him in utter rage.
“You contacted her, didn’t you?”
Blaze just smiled, heart thudding in his chest and making his blood spill faster. Both elated and scared out of his damn mind now that Valerie had come for him, he prayed all of his brothers were with her, because Cyrus wasn’t going down without a hell of a fight.
Blood sprayed the air when Cyrus struck Blaze hard with his huge fist, snapping his head to the side. As the chair fell backward from the force of the blow, Blaze only had time for one thought—he broke my neck—before he hit the floor.
Then, like a plug yanked from its socket, the world went black.
TWENTY-ONE
It was too quiet when they pulled up to 42nd and Lexington.
Valerie sat in the passenger seat of the Jeep, with Rome driving and Dax in the back. This time their rifles were on their person, in case they were attacked en route. Valerie held Rome’s M4 as well as her own, and it was awkward in the somewhat cramped space of the SUV, but she wasn’t complaining.
Two guns were better than one.
The other Jeeps gathered around them, keeping their distances and covering the perimeter, much like they had at Grand Central. Except this time all the men were here. Valerie scanned the deserted streets, searching for the slightest disturbance. The hybrids’ eyes were better than hers, but Dax had watched their backs and Rome had been preoccupied with driving. Everything was eerily silent, like a ghost town, but the air was heavy and ominous. Her intuition sounded its alarms and she never ignored it.
Something wasn’t right.
Valerie patted her vest pockets to make sure Veronica’s aspen injections were still there. She’d grabbed two loaded syringes before they left, nearly having forgotten them in her messenger bag.
Rome killed the engine, the silence deafening. He sat there for a moment, as if waiting for something. Valerie took in his focused expression and realized he was communicating with someone. Hopefully with one of his brothers, but the notion sent a zing of anxiety through her.
No one should be able to do that.
She was still recovering from his escapade through her mind, still trying to get over the disbelief of what he’d found inside her. Physically, she didn’t feel any different, if only for a dull tension headache that had already passed. She didn’t go into a coma like she’d expected and she wasn’t having seizures. Hell, if he hadn’t told her, she would’ve never known.
Which made it all the more frightening.
“Let’s go,” Rome said, baritone cutting through the silence as he gestured for his rifle, his focus locked somewhere else. Valerie handed it to him, and they all checked their weapons before they stepped out of the SUV.
With her heart pounding and her adrenaline pumping, Valerie let her M4 hang at her back as she drew her Beretta. She was more comfortable with her handgun and she’d use the rifle only when she had to. Dax did the same since they would be raiding the Chrysler building’s 42nd street entrance and end up at closer range. She breathed in the night and tasted nothing but foreboding.
Her ears perked when she heard what sounded like a helicopter in the distance and she looked to the sky.
A helicopter in Midtown at this time of night?
“Move out, now!” Rome shouted as Dax sprang into action and grabbed her arm, dragging her toward the street. The roar of engines erupted around them, drowning out the helicopter as two Hummers screeched onto 42nd from the adjacent streets on either side of the building.
If Dax hadn’t yanked her into motion, Valerie would’ve froze right then and there in the middle of the street. The Humvees were full of armed vampires.
Konstantinov’s leeches.
They were all Temhota, the monsters she’d been hunting for years.
Valerie had never seen so many in one place. Once she and Dax hit the curb, she stole a glance at Rome. He walked, yes, walked into the middle of the street between both racing Humvees, as calm as the eye of the storm raging around him. He dropped his M4, allowing it to swing at his back as he freed up his hands. The vampires opened fire as he raised those hands, a palm facing each Humvee.
Valerie’s jaw hit the ground when each and every bullet stopped in mid-air around him, forming a silver arc as if he were inside a bubble. The Humvees rocketed toward him at full speed, coming dangerously close to hitting him. Rome abruptly dropped his hands and bullets of every kind clattered like marbles onto the asphalt.
Then he threw his arms up as if he were the conductor of an invisible orchestra, and the noses of both Humvees whipped into the air. Tires squealed as they flipped backward, landing on their roofs like turtles on their shells, crushing everyone and everything inside.
“Val, come on,” Dax hollered over the piercing sounds of shattered glass and twisted metal as he pulled her toward the stainless steel doors. Suddenly, both Humvees exploded, the thunderous shockwave reverberating against the building and sending them cowering from the blast. Heat and black smoke rolled over them as they finally entered the building, pressing their backs up against the wall.
“But, Rome . . .” Valerie uttered in disbelief, unable to grasp what she’d just witnessed.
“He’s fine, trust me.” Dax lowered his voice, dropping the arm he’d pinned across her chest. With both SIGs in hand, he slid against the red marble wall, scanning the empty lobby with icy blue eyes. Muffled gunfire resounded all around them, echoing against the building, followed by another explosion.
Valerie closed her eyes briefly, struggling to compose herself. Pull it together, Val. You’ve done this a million times.
Except she normally wasn’t the only human.
She pushed off the wall and sidled to the opposite side of the entrance, also keeping her back pressed against marble. Dax spared her a what-the-fuc
k-are-you-doing glance. She motioned to his blind side, indicating she’d be able to get a different angle on the bank of elevators beside him. The entire right wall held several banks of them, four from what she remembered of the layout they’d studied, with a security desk dividing them in half.
The lobby was shaped roughly like a triangle, with the elevator banks at its base. The 42nd street entrance stood at one corner, the 43rd street entrance at the other, while the Lexington Ave entrance stood at its peak. There were plenty of blind spots depending on the entrance used, and they needed to cover as many as possible.
Dax nodded his approval, giving her a thumbs-up, and she hunched a little, making herself as small of a target as possible. He returned his attention to the open space before he signaled for her to stop moving. She froze, her pulse fluttering in her throat as he lifted a SIG, aiming at something she couldn’t see.
“It’s me,” Kaj’s familiar timbre sounded in their earpieces.
They both breathed out sighs of relief. “How’re the others?” Dax asked quietly.
“Shaul, Kase, JJ and Rome are wiping the streets with the leeches, but there’ll be a lot more where they came from. We need to move fast.”
Valerie couldn’t have agreed more.
The muted groan of a moving elevator suddenly resonated through the room. Valerie heard it between the rat-tat-tat of gunfire outside. She aimed her Beretta at the nearest elevator door, its wooden marquetry covered in dust and grime.
These elevators still worked and someone or something was coming down for them.
Dax leapt to the other side of the first elevator bank, squatting beside the red marble wall between two rows of broken steel turnstiles. He took aim at another set of elevators in the second bank, elevators Valerie couldn’t see, but she wasn’t sure which set the noise came from. Hell, the sound could’ve been coming from the third or fourth bank. Dax likely knew better than she did, but with the carnage going on outside, she didn’t want to take any chances.
Seconds ticked by, a minute. Her mouth was dry and she tasted copper on her tongue, gripping her gun so tightly her knuckles whitened. Finally, the doors to her elevator slid open as her finger hovered over the trigger.
It was empty.
And there was nothing on Dax’s side either, because he glanced back at her with a confused expression.
“Third bank, behind you,” Kaj shouted before he opened fire from across the room. Valerie glimpsed a dark figure bolt out from the third bank of elevators on the other side of the lobby, moving faster than her eye could track.
Then a mob of vampires charged the 43rd street entrance straight across from her.
Shit! Valerie fired at the mob, taking out three leeches before they entered the open space. Chaos erupted everywhere as Dax ran after the shadow, but it got to Kaj first. The shadow launched Kaj into a pillar, his back slamming viciously against the marble as he crumpled to the floor. Valerie wanted to run to him, to make sure he was all right, but the mob had already infiltrated the room.
She took down the vampires one-by-one as bullets rained down on her. She barely had any cover; if she didn’t move, she would get hit. To her relief, Kaj levered to his feet, looking a little unsteady, but recovering nonetheless as he seized the closest leech and attacked.
Then, as if a silent prayer had been answered, Kasen burst through the 43rd street entrance behind the mob and gunned them down with his M4, making them scatter and giving Valerie more breathing room.
The battle raged on between Dax and the shadow as both male and female shouts filled the air. Valerie caught a glimpse of the woman as she fought Dax blow-by-blow, matching his speed and endurance. Valerie immediately recognized her—a very familiar, beautiful, Middle-Eastern vampire.
Blaze’s attacker.
Her long dark hair was tied back, her black catsuit revealing far more of her lithe body than her burqa had, and she moved with that feline grace Valerie had seen through Blaze’s eyes. Fury flooded Valerie, coursing through her like boiling water and bursting through her every cell.
She was about to lunge for the female leech when a strong hand grabbed her arm. Valerie nearly flipped the attacker onto his back on pure instinct, but he blocked her and realization struck. Kasen. Covered in vampire blood, a bleeding angel in black, the macabre sight of him momentarily stunned her, especially after witnessing all the miraculous feats he’d performed. How he’d managed to get to Valerie’s side without her noticing was beyond her, but it made her realize how truly distracted she was.
And distraction killed.
“There’s a garage on 43rd that leads to a freight elevator,” he shouted. “Turn right as soon as you get outside. Go to it, now, I’ll be right behind you.”
He released her and turned back to the vampires without waiting for her response. He shot two leeches before his nine clicked empty, and he holstered it. Drawing two bloodied knives from his wrist sheaths, he left, leaping into a blur of darkness, flesh, and crimson.
Valerie didn’t hesitate a moment longer as she broke for 43rd street. The vampires kept on coming and she took out three more before she hit the night air. Konstantinov must’ve sent his entire goddamn army after them with the way the monsters kept springing up.
Another war raged on the streets, a battle echoing through the night, and she glimpsed Shaul surrounded by at least a dozen leeches. Valerie prayed he had everything under control as she darted alongside the building, searching frantically for the garage Kasen had spoken of.
Luckily, most of the vampires were preoccupied with the Knights, so no one challenged her. The sound of chaos grew more distant as she ran.
The helicopter was close now, circling, and she spared it a glance. Now that she had a moment to think, her mind put the pieces together and she could’ve slapped herself for her stupidity.
The bird wasn’t just going for a ride through the Manhattan night. It was here for Blaze. Cyrus planned to take him out of the city, away from New York.
To Miami.
Panic injected some oomph in her step as Valerie picked up the pace. Finally, she came upon a wide garage door made of horizontal stainless steel panels with a matching overhang. Her heart dropped when she saw it was closed tight with no obvious flaws. She holstered her Beretta and squatted on the ground, trying to slip her fingers beneath the black rubber seal to lift the door, even though it was silly and futile. It didn’t move a centimeter. The only way she could get through this door was if someone opened it from inside, and she highly doubted that would happen.
Valerie cursed, kicking the panels and slamming her fists against the metal in frustration. She wracked her brain, trying to think of another way, to conjure up something, anything, when the impossible occurred to her.
No, not impossible—just crazy.
She pressed her fingers to her temples, unsure of what the procedure was for this ridiculousness, as she closed her eyes and evoked an image of Rome. She’d probably get herself killed, standing out here blind like a fool, but this was the only option she had left. She imagined him crouched down in front of her in Blaze’s bedroom, with his swirling goat eyes and exotic poker face.
Rome. Help me.
She waited for a full ten seconds. Nothing. Her heart took another nosedive into her stomach as she opened her eyes and let out another curse. She was a complete idiot for even thinking this would work.
Then, as if on cue, something on the other side of the door snapped, clicked, and groaned as the panels slowly rose on rusted gears.
You know, the whole temple-rubbing and eye-closing thing is unnecessary.
At the echo of Rome’s amused voice against her skull, Valerie couldn’t help but grin. It sounded like he stood right in front of her, when he obviously was nowhere to be found . . . except on the other side of the block where he annihilated the Temh
ota. Elation flooded her, drowning out all of her residual qualms, as the door came to a stop just above her head.
“Thank you,” she said aloud as she drew her Beretta and stepped inside.
Do you trust me now?
“Hell no.” Her lips twitched as he let out a good-natured laugh. Then, poof, he was gone. She wasn’t sure how she knew, but she did.
Now wasn’t the time to contemplate the intricacies of telepathy. Valerie turned her attention on the dark space, the smell of oil and corrosion hitting her senses. An ancient truck was parked inside. God only knew how long it’d sat there. She circled it, holding her Beretta in a two-handed grip, her adrenals kicking into overdrive. It was unnervingly quiet; the only sounds were her footsteps, her breath, and the war drum of her heart in her chest.
She made it around the truck without incident, the darkness growing thicker and thicker. She felt as if she slogged through a cloud of ink, offering her no choice but to remove her mini Maglite from her vest. The flashlight would make her a target, but it was a lesser evil than walking around blindly.
She would rather see something come at her, even if it saw her first.
A reception desk stretched out to her right, the expansive space narrowing into a corridor. Rotted newspaper, glass, and debris crunched beneath her boots as Valerie stole through the hall, swinging a sharp left. She kept near the concrete wall, holding the flashlight at eye level. Trash and grime covered the floors and crawled up the walls, but there were no signs of life. The wide door to the freight elevator came up quick and she nearly walked past it.
