Stormrise

by Knizley, Skye

  Raven took the offered burger and nibbled the edge. “No, it isn’t. So what’s our next move?”

  “To get you out of here,” Levac replied. “Help me up.”

  Raven extended a hand and hoisted Levac to his feet. He smoothed his coat down and stepped into the elevator, beckoning Raven to follow him.

  Raven stepped inside and leaned against the wall, watching Levac as he pressed the lobby button. The doors closed and he leaned against the opposite wall, his eyes on Raven’s.

  “I really appreciate you coming for me, Rupert,” she said, adding the cheeseburger wrapper to Levac's pocket.

  “That is what partners do, Raven,” he replied. “They watch each other’s backs.”

  Raven smiled and turned to look up at the numbers flicking by. “So what do we do when we get to the lobby? Should I use harsh language if they try to stop us?”

  Levac laughed and reached into one of his spacious pockets. “You could. But you might want to use this instead.” He pulled his hand out of his pocket and held out Raven’s Automag, freshly cleaned and loaded. “The person who gave us the tip as to where you were also left this for you. I thought you might find a use for it in here.”

  Raven hefted the massive pistol gratefully and stepped forward to kiss Levac’s cheek. “Thank you again, Rupert. Now I do owe you that beer.”

  “Make it two, partner,” Levac replied.

  The elevator doors opened a moment later and the two detectives stepped out into the lobby, their weapons held casually at their sides. They were almost to the doors when a security guard stepped out and said, “You two, stop where you are!”

  Levac flipped out his badge. “Chicago Police; don’t even try to stop us from leaving the building.”

  By way of answer, the guard drew his pistol and pressed the alarm button on the wall by his hand. Immediately a siren began to wail and security gates crashed down over the exits. A moment later, guards appeared on the balcony above, Heckler and Koch Mp5 submachine guns pointed at the two officers.

  Raven turned and put her back to Levac’s, the Automag held at her side. “Good evening, gentlemen. Put down your weapons; you’re all under arrest for threatening a police officer and brandishing illegal weapons.”

  “Are you serious?” Levac asked over his shoulder.

  “Completely,” Raven replied. “If I don’t give them a chance to surrender, it won’t be a clean shooting. I hate all the red tape from internal affairs.”

  “Oh…right,” Levac said. “Is it too late to tell you you’re crazy?”

  “Nope, not at all,” Raven said. “You can tell me tomorrow, too, if it will make you feel any better.”

  In a louder voice she addressed the men on the balcony. “Don’t make me repeat myself, gentlemen. Drop your weapons or we’ll be forced to defend ourselves.”

  “Ah, Ravenel,” said a voice. “Always so brave even in the face of ridiculous odds. Just like your idiot human father.”

  Above her, a tall man with black hair that trailed down his back, piercing black eyes that seemed to stare through everything, and a neatly trimmed beard leaned on the railing. “You are outnumbered and outgunned, childe. Surrender to us and I’ll let your little friend go.”

  “Hey, Raven,” Levac called, “Who is the Antonio Banderas life-sized, blow-up doll?”

  “His name is Strohm,” Raven replied. “He’s my mom’s ex and he’s supposed to be dead.”

  “He looks pretty spry for a dead guy,” Levac said.

  “Not for long,” Raven answered back.

  “Sure, that’s right, you take the fifty on the left I’ll take the fifty on the right, deal?” Levac said sarcastically.

  Before Raven could respond with her own sarcasm, Strohm interrupted. “Ravenel, are you and the detective, what was his name, Codumbo? Are you seriously considering fighting my guards?” Strohm asked with a wide smile. “What do you think that will prove, other than that you are both mortal?”

  “You are all under arrest,” Raven repeated. “Put down your weapons. Now!”

  Knowing the guards were not about to drop their weapons, Raven closed her eyes and drew upon the powers she tried so hard to pretend didn’t exist. When she opened them, the world was a bright haze of glittering colors, like the image on a thermographic camera. She spun and pushed Levac toward relative safety behind a sofa and ran forward, the Automag barking in her hand. Six of the guards dropped to the ground, clean bullet holes through their foreheads. Two more erupted in fountains of ash and flame, their vampire hearts shattered by the oak-and-garlic-filled bullets.

  That magazine empty, Raven dropped to her knees and slid behind a desk, bullets ricocheting all around her.

  “I need another mag!” she called to Levac, who was firing his own pistol at the guards leaning over the railing.

  “Now you ask for it?” he yelled back. “Couldn’t you have asked for it before you threw me under the sofa like an old piece of gum?”

  “Now, Rupert!” Raven yelled.

  “Yeah, yeah, stop nagging; you sound like my ex-wife,” Levac replied. “Heads up!”

  He threw the magazines overhand and Raven watched them spin through the air to land and within arm’s reach of her cover, which was rapidly being chewed up by the guards’ automatic fire. She rolled sideways and scooped up the ammunition, all the while wondering where Strohm and his sidekick Francois were. She reloaded the Automag and leapt from cover, spinning onto her back as she flew through the air. Again flame erupted from the barrel of the silvered pistol and five more guards dropped.

  Behind Raven, Levac had snatched up one of the dropped submachine guns and was returning fire, the weapon like something alive in his hands.

  “Where is he?” Raven asked herself. “Where did he go?”

  Her answer was immediate. Strohm dropped from above to land behind Levac. Levac must have caught the movement out of the corner of his eye because he spun, firing the Mp5 at point-blank range. The high-velocity rounds struck the sanguinarch in the chest and passed through like he was so much smoke.

  “Your bullets cannot harm me, detective!” Strohm said in a calm voice. “But I can certainly harm you!”

  Levac stared in surprise at Strohm and had little chance to defend himself when the large vampire reached out and grabbed him around the throat.

  “Surrender, Fürstin,” he said. “Or I make a meal of Detective Levac and turn him into my personal lap dog. What will that be? The third new partner in a row?”

  “Fourth,” Raven replied, rolling onto one knee and aiming at the sanguinarch’s head. “But I’m kind of attached to this one. Let him go!”

  Strohm laughed and shook Levac like a dog with a rag doll. “You still think you can win, don’t you?” he asked, licking his fangs.

  “I do,” Raven replied. She narrowed her gaze, focusing on nothing but Strohm’s right eye, the only thing she could see clearly. Strohm reared his head back to bite Levac and she squeezed the trigger three times in quick succession.

  The heavy .30 carbine rounds punched through Strohm’s face, causing him to scream in agony. He dropped Levac and grabbed at his shattered jaw, putting it back together even as he began to regenerate.

  With Levac out of the way, Raven emptied the magazine into the vampire and began walking forward. Each of the oak, garlic and silver rounds found a target, staggering the sanguinarch and causing him to fall to his knees.

  Raven reloaded and kept firing until she was standing over Strohm, her weapon pointed at the creature’s foul heart.

  “I know what you’re thinking,” she said. “That this won’t kill you. To be honest, I’m not sure myself. But you know, I feel lucky.”

  The Automag barked one more time, passing through Strohm’s heart. He sagged against the ground and began to burn, his mouth open in a silent scream of agony.

  II

  Two hours later, Raven sat on the hood of the Shelby, watching as Levac ordered a pair of chili dogs from Bishop’s, a drive-in set o
ff to the side of the Loop. He exited a moment later, walking like the massive bruise around his neck didn’t exist. He handed Raven her hot dog and hopped up onto the hood next to her, his own dinner held in his hand.

  “So,” he said, watching her take a bite. “Are you ever going to tell me what the hell happened tonight and why some of those guys just burst into flames when you shot them?”

  Raven chewed slowly, taking the opportunity to think. She swallowed and half turned to look Levac in the eye. She had never really seen him clearly before. Scrape off the cheeseburger, the unkempt hair and the sarcastic grin and he was actually quite handsome in a B-movie sort of way.

  He had also come for her when no one else would have. That put a lot on his side. But she knew he wasn’t quite ready yet. “Rupert, one day I’ll tell you everything, I promise, from the exploding baddies to the weirdness that happens in my family.”

  “But not today?” he asked around a mouth full of hotdog.

  “Not today,” Raven confirmed.

  The two sat in silence for several minutes, friends enjoying a hotdog on a cold autumn night. When Levac had finished, he stood and tossed his garbage into a nearby can before turning back to Raven. “I didn’t get any drinks,” he said apologetically. “But I believe someone owes me two beers. I’ll settle for a Diet Pepsi.”

  Raven laughed and took the hint, sliding off the hood and approaching the restaurant. Knowing Levac’s eyes were following her, she put a little extra wiggle in her step. When she looked back, Levac smiled and she winked. Who knew? Maybe she had finally found a partner who could keep up.

  She turned back and stood in the short queue, waiting her turn to order drinks.

  Epilogue

  Outside, Levac pulled a grubby piece of paper from his pocket and read it for the ninth time.

  Mr. Levac, Raven Storm is in great danger. She is being held in the Whitehall laboratory beneath the Anderson building and she needs your help. I have left her weapon in your care; please see that she gets it…and please tell her I love her.

  Yours,

  Francois Du Guerre.

  Levac held the note for a moment, trying to decide what to do. The wind was up and he could easily let it vanish into the night. With a sigh, he stuffed it deep into his pocket with the cheeseburger wrappers and ketchup packets. Maybe one day, he would give it to Raven. But not today.

  RAVEN STORM WILL RETURN…

  Acknowledgements

  I would really like to thank my editors, Laura Josephsen and Elizabeth A. Lance for a job well done. And many thanks to SJ Davis and my wonderful publishing family as well.