by Devyn Quinn
Fingers wiggling like pale worms unexpectedly jabbed up through the soil. The tips were shredded; the nails ripped away. Groping hands came next, followed by a head shrouded in wisps of blond hair, and then shoulders. The earth had rejected the demon-tainted corpse, giving birth to a foul and terrible thing.
A torso and legs followed as the newly risen cadaver broke free of its grave.
Shaking off the dirt the way a dog would shake off water, the girl-cadaver climbed to its feet. No more than a slender wisp standing perhaps five feet tall, it was dressed in a frilly pink confection, the kind of dress perfect for a senior prom queen.
The demon once known as Candace Ackerman looked pale, frozen, as if its features were chiseled from ivory. Fathomless eyes burned with inhuman recognition. A twisted grin split parched lips, revealing fangs. The girl-cadaver had fangs—big fucking fangs. They looked pretty damn sharp, too.
A smile curled one corner of Jesse’s mouth. This was what she’d been waiting for. Her hand dipped into her coat pocket. Her fingers closed around the solid length of her weapon. “Gotcha.”
Her daddy always told her that if she planned to attack someone, to do it first and do it fast. It seemed like good advice.
Unfortunately for Jesse, the vampire didn’t plan to be put back in the ground anytime soon.
The girl-cadaver stared with a gaze lit by an evil spawned in the deepest pits of hell. The low feral growl of a predator emanated from its throat. Uncoordinated limbs were pressed into motion.
The beast charged, striking Jesse with a full-body tackle.
Jesse flailed helplessly. She hit the ground hard, knocking the breath from her lungs. The back of her head smacked the headstone marking a neighboring grave. Bright shards of color zipped past her eyes. A gush of air, mingled with a groan, rushed past her lips. The feeling she was ten feet tall and bulletproof vanished like a wisp of smoke.
Oh, shit! Candace Ackerman was strong—and heavy. Despite its diminutive size, the demon bitch weighed a ton, maybe two.
Fighting to keep the vampire from straddling her, Jesse lashed out, determined to stake the beast. The projectile struck her assailant squarely in the center of the chest. Silky material ripped. Fragile flesh tore.
The stake, however sharp and expertly aimed, did not penetrate the vampire’s rib cage. Skidding across bone, it barely made a dent.
Giving her a half-quizzical look, the undead girl plucked the useless weapon right out of Jesse’s grip. No blood flowed from the gaping tear she’d inflicted all the way down to the vampire’s breastbone.
“Imbecile,” the creature snarled, tossing the stake aside. “Fool.” The vampire’s borrowed human vocal cords gave its speech a guttural tone, its words spoken as if the language were wholly unfamiliar.
Astonishment flooded Jesse. Panting and light-headed from her effort, she felt tremors course through her.
Strike one.
The vampire reached for the cross around Jesse’s neck. A jerk snapped the chain. Mutilated fingers closed around the silver ornament, crumpling it into an unrecognizable mass of metal. Pale lips lifted into a crazed grin. “You lose.”
Strike two.
Jesse tensed. She’d pretty much bet that the garlic might be good only for spaghetti sauce. Past that, it probably wouldn’t be much help in warding off the evil undead. Her investigation obviously had a few serious flaws. She’d believed herself strong, ready for the battle she’d chosen to pursue.
Wrong. So wrong.
She stared into the creature’s fathomless eyes, letting it see that she wasn’t afraid. “If you’re going to kill me,” she panted, “make it fast. I haven’t got all fucking night.”
The vampire’s gaze glittered with menace. The smile it offered wasn’t pleasant. “I do.”
Jesse swore under her breath. It occurred to her she was going to die—really die.
Maybe it was better this way. The life she’d been attempting to hold on to seemed futile now, wasted on the revenge she’d envisioned herself delivering with a terrible and swift justice. She had to remember where she stood in the grand scheme of this world. To society, Jesse Burke was nothing, a transient drifter.
Nobody would miss her. Nobody would mourn.
Jesse’s heart shifted into overdrive. Adrenaline seared her veins. There was a low throbbing throughout her body, but it was all far away, as if she stood outside her own body watching the scene unfold. Helplessness only added to her panic as her senses reeled. “We really don’t have to do this,” she said, backpedaling.
Catching a handful of Jesse’s hair, the vampire grinned. “Oh, but we do. Painfully.” Mouth ratcheting open, its lethal fangs hovered.
A faint whimper escaped Jesse’s lips. Holy cow. She’d really screwed up—the latest mistake of many she’d made during her poor excuse of a life. A wild thought zinged through her mind. No way I’m going to live through this.
Certain she was about to be toast, Jesse caught a quick rush of motion out of the corner of her eye. A shadowy blur moving at top speed charged in, knocking the creature off her. Candace Ackerman went akimbo, arms and legs flying.
Immediately taking advantage of freedom, Jesse rolled onto her stomach and pushed herself to her feet. She knew she should run. She wanted to run, but her legs felt like lead stumps. Fighting to control her uncooperative limbs, she forced herself to take a step, then two.
Climbing back to its feet, the confused vampire rounded on her. Heart lodged in her throat, Jesse froze. The time to bend over and kiss her ass good-bye would be about now.
Like a hummingbird coming to rest midflight, the blur reappeared, positioning itself behind the advancing threat. All at once, a man’s figure materialized in its place, silhouetted in the shadows. Tall and lean as whipcord, he was dressed in some sort of lengthy trench coat. Untangling a long, slender object from the folds of his coat, he lifted his weapon and placed it against his shoulder. The moonlight glinted off the cool gray metal of a sawed-off shotgun.
Time spun away. Everything around Jesse ground down into disorienting slow-motion movements.
The stranger pulled the trigger without hesitation.
Boom!
Ambushed from behind, the vampire, formerly known as Candace Ackerman, stared down at the newly formed holes in its chest, courtesy of the blast of a double-aught buckshot.
A toothy grin replaced its scowl of bewilderment. Swinging around to face its new assailant, the she-beast growled. “Not good enough.”
The stranger reloaded, calmly jacking another shell into the chamber. “This is,” he said, and fired.
Another shot rang out, kick-starting Jesse’s breathing with a burst of adrenaline. The vampire’s head exploded, its fanged menace vanishing in an instant. Jesse’s mouth dropped open.
The mutilated corpse wavered, balance and footing all of a sudden unsure. Seconds later it dropped to the ground in a crumpled heap.
For ten, maybe twenty seconds, Jesse couldn’t move. Nothing had adequately prepared her to see a body so gruesomely mutilated.
This time Candace Ackerman was unquestionably dead.
Without warning, the corpse began to splutter and spark. Flesh dissolving like overheated wax, the remnants of skin and bone crackled and grew blacker, oozing a thick puslike substance. A stench like rotting eggs emanated from the fizzing mass.
Jesse gagged when the sickening odor of burned flesh permeated her nostrils. Unable to tear her gaze away, she watched the cadaver devour itself. At the same time, thin strings of gray-white mist gathered above the remains. It slowly took shape, curling into the figure of a bat-headed, clawed mutant.
The demon laughed.
Then, with a flick of its reptilian tail, it vanished. A strange luminescent afterimage lingered as if scorched into the fabric of the atmosphere. All that was left of the body was something that looked gummy and sticky, like tar poured on top of the newly turned soil. Immolation had happened so instantaneously, it was almost hard to believe the thing had
existed.
Knees going weak, Jesse collapsed. It was all she could do not to scream or break into hysterical sobs. She hadn’t imagined anything like this would happen when she’d climbed over the fence surrounding the cemetery. A stake to the heart and the vamp would turn into a neat pile of ashes—game over.
Only this was no game.
Gun in hand, her rescuer sauntered over like a soldier armored in the pride of an enemy’s defeat. He stopped within a foot of Jesse, overwhelming her with his presence. His lanky body filled her vision. The power he radiated enveloped her, kept her sitting.
“First time you see a demon face-to-face is a shock.”
Struggling to calm her erratic heartbeat, she barely managed a nod. “No shit.”
He raked a hand through his dark hair. The tangled mess looked as if it hadn’t seen a comb in a decade. He examined her, grunting with satisfaction. “You look all right to me.”
Heart slowing to a normal rhythm, Jesse resisted the urge to flip back something inane. Now wasn’t the time to be a smart-ass. “Thanks for your concern.” Her lungs were burning with the need to drag in a breath of air, and her voice sounded strained, unnaturally high.
The assassin prodded the useless stake with a booted foot. He flashed a lazy yet intimate grin. “You actually thought this would do the job?”
Jesse swallowed, unexpectedly tongue-tied. Very aware that he was armed and dangerous, she squinted hard to get a closer look at the stranger. He was impossibly tall, broad shouldered, yet with a wiry leanness that suggested he could move as fast as a puma on the prowl.
“I—I thought it was supposed to work.” Brushing away a few pieces of clinging gore, she grimaced. “All I know about vampires—”
The stranger cut her off with a dismissive gesture. “Yeah, I know. You got out of books and movies.” He hunkered down to her level, pinning her under a laser-beam stare. “Just in case you didn’t know, we’re not fighting Hollywood’s version of vampires.”
Jesse gulped. His very masculine presence sent a thrill of sexual awareness straight down her spine. That alone made him ten times more lethal than the gun he carried. “We’re not?”
Her savior shook his head. “We’re fighting demons, and they have a whole different set of rules to play by.” His accent piqued her interest, bringing to mind the taste of sweet red wine and erotic whispers while sitting on the banks of the Seine River on a warm summer night.
Jesse’s gaze zeroed in on the sticky burned mass. She winced. Candace Ackerman’s former grave looked as if a bomb had gone off on top of it. “So what do we do now?”
“We get the hell out of here.” A rueful smile curled the corners of his mouth. “Before somebody calls the cops.”
Goose bumps rippled across Jesse’s skin. Going back to jail was something she’d like to avoid. She wasn’t stupid enough to think she could explain her way out of this mess.
Reaching for the stake she’d lost, she clambered to her feet. It wasn’t much, but at least she had something. It was also best not to leave any evidence behind. “Thanks for the help, man,” she mumbled.
The stranger also rose, straightening to his full height. A smile tugged at his lips. “If it helps, my name is Maddox,” he offered as an introduction. “Maddox deValois.” His accent thickened a little on the foreign surname.
Jesse shrugged. His name meant nothing. “I’m Jesse.” Most people didn’t care who the hell she was.
Maddox kicked a little dirt over the residue with one booted foot. “You should come with me.” He glanced around. “It’ll be safer if we stay together.”
Jesse doubted he needed anyone to watch his back.
“Thanks, but no, thanks.” She shook her head. “I travel alone.” She had a goal to accomplish and couldn’t let anything get in her way. Besides, it was better if she kept to herself—definitely safer.
He scrubbed a hand over his jaw, his palm rasping against the stubble on his face. Their gazes met across the expanse of darkness separating them. “She isn’t the only one out here,” he advised in a low voice. “Where there’s one, there’re more. Going it alone isn’t wise.”
Jesse’s muscles tensed in subtle preparation. Her fingers tightened around her own ineffective weapon as her eyes swept the cemetery. “I’ve been making bad decisions all night. One more won’t matter.” Bluster masked her fear. She wondered how much longer she could tempt fate and still walk away unscathed. The next time she screwed up might be her last. The odds were against her.
Careful to make no sudden moves, she took one step back, and then another. Putting some distance between them was probably advisable. After all, he’d come prepared to do the job right, and she’d . . . Well, she’d just learned you didn’t bring a wooden stake to a gunfight. The urge to simply run like hell hovered in the back of her mind.
Maddox inclined his head. “Do whatever you want, then.” Hitching his shotgun over one shoulder, he turned and started to walk away. “Just remember, guessing isn’t good enough,” he tossed back at her. “If you want to know how to do this job right, you’d better stick with me.”
Chapter 2
Barely managing to suppress a shiver, Jesse tugged her well-worn jacket a little tighter around her body. She squinted and peered through dry eyes out into the fog that wrapped the city like a wet cloak. The air carried a scent that was familiar, a putrid rot that crawled up the nostrils and burned itself onto her brain.
The neighborhood wasn’t the best in New Orleans. In fact, it was the worst, a part of the city declared a dead zone by anyone who called himself a decent human being. Before Hurricane Katrina, the Northside Ward had merely been abandoned; a prime example of the sprawl of urban decay. Hundreds, if not thousands, of the buildings were vacant and gutted. Many more buildings were still little touched since the waters drained away, with ruined possessions still inside. It was an eight-mile-long scar on the face of a city fighting to recover its dignity.
In the aftermath of devastation, looting, violence, and other criminal activity had become a serious problem, especially in such a poverty-ridden area. The worst of the worst had claimed the old business district, turning it into an area even the police wouldn’t dare venture into after sundown. Having lost complete control over the devastated ruins, local officials had given up trying to save it.
Gritting her teeth, Jesse tried to tamp down the fear gnawing at her gut. She didn’t like this side of the city, not one bit. There were no lamplights anymore, or even decent streets. People lived among the wreckage like rats, burrowing in anywhere they could to put a roof over their heads and a wall behind their backs. Despite the demon living inside her, she still had sense enough to be afraid. Anyone who walked these streets walked alone. She still didn’t know why she’d agreed to accompany him.
She glanced up at the stranger who’d introduced himself as Maddox deValois. He didn’t seem to be one bit ruffled as they wove their way around the debris left littering the area. No one came near them. In fact, everyone seemed intent on keeping a respectful distance. It could be that the shotgun Maddox carried jacked his street cred up considerably. Laying hands on a real weapon was damn near impossible.
“We have a reason to be here?” she asked, tossing a wary look toward a circle of grubby men warming their hands over a barrel. They stared through suspicious eyes, the burden of their disapproval palpable from a distance. Even these derelict souls seemed to know she didn’t belong among them.
She was one of the diseased.
Her taciturn companion nodded and half grunted an answer. “There.” He motioned toward the crumbling remains of what had once been a hotel. In its day, the place had been a local landmark, servicing travelers from the nearby railroad station. But that had been more than eighty years ago, in an entirely different century. As it stood, the building was a remnant of a far-gone past.
Jesse tensed. Every window in the nine-story behemoth was smashed out. It didn’t look safe. “What’s there?”
Mad
dox didn’t look her way. “Home.” His single-word reply was precise and direct.
She blinked hard to clear her vision and swung her gaze back up to look at him. “Kidding, right?” It struck her how tall and solid he looked. How handsome. Though she wouldn’t admit it, she was kind of glad she’d tagged along. He seemed to know where he was going. She could certainly use a few answers.
“Nope.” Her taciturn companion kept on walking, cutting a sharp corner around the side of the building. A few steps later, he vanished down a long dark alley. The shadows lurking in its depths swallowed him up.
Heart missing a beat, Jesse skidded to a halt. She didn’t trust dark constricted spaces—not at all. The stranger might have saved her life, but that didn’t mean he wasn’t thinking about doing something worse to her once he got her out of sight. She doubted a scream would bring anyone to her aid, either.
She took a step back, and then another. “No way,” she said in a voice barely above a whisper.
A sharp beam of light hit her square in the face. “Stay there and you’re on your own. I have no time to fuck around with the likes of you.”
Jesse lowered the hand she’d thrown up to shield her face. Earlier in the evening, that Maglite had belonged to her. Now it was his, and she probably didn’t have a chance of getting it back. She hesitated. “The likes of me ain’t sure about the likes of you.”
His shoulders flexed with his annoyance. “Suit yourself.”
Turning the beam away, he knelt and pointed his light at a section of wall near the ground. Sticking his fingers through the hole of an iron grate, he tugged the heavy thing out of its place and revealed an opening barely large enough for a body to squeeze through.
He turned the precious light back on her. “Dawn’s coming. We need to get out of sight as soon as possible. If you won’t come with me, then I suggest you get the hell out of here before those street rats figure out you’re a woman,” he said, eyeing her boyishly slim body and the dirty strands of white-blond hair that masked her face. If he had any feelings about her staying out alone, he was revealing nothing.
