When Vamps Bite (Bedlam in Bethlehem Book 1)
Page 18
“What was that?” I ask, my ears prickling.
“I didn’t hear anything.” The lieutenant halts and holds up a hand.
I’ve already stopped and am glancing around, confused and anxious. Did I really hear something?
The darkness is so not our friend right now, but something has changed. The air. It’s heavier, colder as if it’s plummeted at least twenty degrees in the span of seconds. My chest tightens, and breathing becomes harder. My grip on my gun intensifies, and I’m ready to pull the trigger.
Frustrated, disgust, I hold position, waiting for a terror of the night to jump out at us.
The fog rolls in, far too swiftly to be natural, and I can’t see. Screw it. I whip out my flashlight and shine it around to see the fog dissipating as quickly as it appeared. A dark form snatches the lieutenant. He fires his gun, grunts, and then yells out.
Not hesitating for a second, I dart forward and shine the light directly into the vamp’s eyes. It’s the intruder vamp.
His eyes gleam blood-red, and he grants me a wide smile that reveals his saliva-dripping fangs. The poison… their saliva?
One hand secures the lieutenant’s throat, and he’s holding him high above the ground with no effort at all. His other hand reaches for the gun.
Which goes off.
The bullet straight through the vamp’s hand.
Still smiling at me, the vamp holds up his hand to show off the hole.
The hole that’s closing.
The hole that’s no more.
He yanks the gun free and slams it onto a gravestone, cracking the marker and busting the weapon. An unnatural darkish light emanates from the vamp, making him clearly visible, especially his fangs.
They descend toward the lieutenant’s neck.
Silver. Silver. I need silver!
But I can’t leave the lieutenant. Acting on impulse, I dash forward and slam the butt of my gun against the back of the vamp’s head.
He chuckles with seeming indifference but then slaps me across the chest, lips twisted with disapproval.
I fly backward and connect with a gravestone. The stabbing pain makes me grit my teeth. Standing is a struggle, but I refuse to be a victim. Desperation fuels me, adrenaline lending its aid. I will not witness another murder. The vamp won’t win!
Moving faster than I ever have before, I dash over to them. The vamp is watching my every move. He’s clearly toying with both the lieutenant and me. Sometime between my attack and the vamp’s counter, he bit the lieutenant, but he hasn’t killed him yet.
The lieutenant’s face is ghastly pale, and his eyes are fluttering, but he’s still breathing, thank God.
The vamp leans toward the lieutenant’s neck again, his fangs at the ready. Not this time.
The gun might not affect him like it would a human, but it’s my only weapon. I bring it down with furious force against his fangs.
The vamp hisses with disgusted anger. “I warned you,” he says. His voice is powerful, although his words are a little garbled from the blood in his mouth. A red ribbon leaks from one corner. “You’ll regret sticking around.”
The blood. His or the lieutenant’s? Definitely the lieutenant’s.
Another surge of anger and adrenaline floods me. I slam the gun against his mouth again, jarring the lieutenant from his grasp. Without being held upright, he sinks to the ground like a cannonball in water.
The vamp growls, the sound not animalistic but inhuman just the same. “You will not last long,” he promises.
“Whatcha gonna do?” I ask, crouching, gun raised. The lieutenant’s blood drips down my sleeve and onto the grass. “Run away like a coward? Turn into a mist?”
His eyes narrow slightly at that.
“Why not come after me?” I demand. I narrow the distance between us so that we’re closer than I’ve been with a man in a very long time. “Why go after my boss, go after my partner? Why not attack me? Why not kill me?”
His lips curl into a nasty smile. “You’ll find out soon enough. For now, you’re safe, but cross the line and I’ll cross you off.”
He turns and walks away.
Walks.
I could give chase if I want to. He’s moving slowly enough to.
The lieutenant coughs and then stops breathing.
No!
Frightened and remorseful, I rush over to him. My gun slips from my hands, and I roll him onto his back. “Hey, you! Yes, you! Gravedigger!”
He glances up from his spot.
How in the world had he not heard the fighting? The shouts? The gunshot? Suddenly, I’m skeptical of him, even resenting his worthless presence.
“Get over here!” I call frantically. “Okay. Let’s give this a go.” I close my eyes and breathe deeply to try to gather myself. I totally fail, by the way. Shaking, I press my hands to his chest. Crap. Isn’t it possible to crack ribs if you do compressions wrong? I did take a first aid course, but I can’t focus.
Panic laces through me, and I slam my fist against his chest. Again and again. Nothing. No response.
Think!
Not about to give up, I opt to try the compressions anyhow. I press several times, pause, and press again.
“Come on,” I grunt.
“Get… Get off.” The lieutenant’s cough spurts out flecks of blood.
“You’re all right!” I exclaim.
“No thanks to you.” He allows me to help him up. “Where did he go?”
“He… ah…”
“You let him get away. Or did he use super speed like some kind of super villain?”
“Actually…”
His glower makes me swallow hard. I don’t think I’ve ever seen him more pissed.
“I saved your life!” I protest.
I hope. I can’t help thinking about Calinda Moore and how she hadn’t survived a vamp’s bite for very long. She had a whole list of symptoms, and maybe even her suicidal thoughts were a part of it.
“Think of all the other lives he’ll take!”
Finally, the gravedigger approaches. His shovel rests on his shoulder like a bat. “What is it?”
I secure my gun. “Get us an ambulance.”
He nods and steps away to make the call.
“Look, I know I’ve done a lot of things lately that should get me suspended. I know I don’t give you enough respect and that I’m a pain in the ass.” I take a deep breath. “I’m passionate. I’m driven. I’m obsessive. I will take them down, all of them. With or without you. I… Thank you for letting me work on this case with you.”
“You’re making me regret it.” He closes his eyes.
“Lieutenant?”
“I’m resting,” he snaps.
Yeah, I’m thinking he’ll be all right.
At the emergency room, Doctor Dean comes to the rescue again. While he’s examining the lieutenant, I step out into the hallway to call Henrietta.
“You don’t, by any chance, have a cure for the poison or whatever it is?”
“Not yet, no, but I have figured out some of the changes it causes. It alters a person’s blood and body and changes the chemicals. Symptoms include photosensitivity, muscle weakness, seizures, and slowed heartbeat. Why are you asking?”
“Because someone else has been bitten. No idea for a cure?”
“How long ago?” Her voice is harsh over the line, and she sounds as angry as I feel.
Awkwardly, I realize I’m pacing, and I force myself to stop. Agitated and infuriated beyond belief, I try to count reasons to remain here instead of hunting down every last vamp.
And that’s when it hits me.
That’s exactly what I should do.
Chapter 25
My pulse quickens, but I feel alive, happy even, now that I know what to do.
But first, the lieutenant.
“How long ago was he bitten?” she asks. Desperation bleeds into her tone, desperation I badly need to not reflect.
“Less than an hour.”
“That’s
not enough time for us to come up with anything!”
So we have no cure. “What are the chances it’s an infection and antibiotics might help?”
“I guess that’s better than nothing.” But she doesn’t sound convinced.
I’m fraught with worry despite myself. “It’s worth a try. It’s gotta be.”
“Might as well try antivirals, too, if you’re gonna go that route.”
A light bulb goes off. “You said it changes a person’s blood, right?”
“Yes. It alters… You could try apheresis. Well, not yet. We don’t know how to isolate out the… I’m not sure if it’s bacteria yet or not. It’s something we’ve never seen before. So we can’t remove the person’s blood, remove the poison or what have you, and give them back their blood—“
“But we could remove their blood and give them fresh blood instead.”
“The sooner, the better. I don’t know if it’ll—“
I hang up, hating myself for pacing the floor because now I have to run to go back to the lieutenant’s room.
Doctor Dean is just leaving the room, so we almost collide.
“What’s your treatment plan?” I ask.
“Strongest antibiotics we have. I’m not sure what else to do. Besides a blood transfusion—“
“Doc, this is serious. Really serious. I…” I glance up and down the hallway. A few nurses are gathered down toward the front desk.
I grab his arm and direct him away from them, and he pushes me into an empty patient room.
“What is it?” His eyes are open, filled with concern that makes my stomach twist into knots.
“The bites, they’re from vamps,” I blurt out in a whisper, shocked I’m telling him, but it’s necessary. Even the lieutenant can’t argue with that. “You can’t tell anyone.”
“Vampires.” He blinks, his face an unreadable mask.
Does he believe me? I don’t blame him for being skeptical. Learning that vamps are real is shocking. It’s dismaying, terrifying, disappointing, frustrating, and infuriating. I’m still processing it myself.
“I know. I know.” I sigh. “It’s—“
“I won’t lie and say it hasn’t crossed my mind, but…” Doctor Dean shakes his head. “What else do I need to know?”
“I called the ME. She and our scientist have been working on learning more about a poison of sorts she recovered from the bodies and… Not important. She thinks it might be best to remove and replace his blood—“
“All of it?”
“Every drop,” I say in a rush. “She said eventually apheresis might work. Who knows? Maybe the antibiotics will. Or antivirals. But the blood exchange might be our best shot.”
His nod is a single, controlled movement. “All right. I’ll order—“
“Where can I donate blood?”
Doctor Dean grins. “I’m sure we can nab some from you. No fangs required.”
It’s not long before everything is set up. I’m munching on a stale cookie in the lieutenant’s room, the whirr of the machine removing his blood obnoxiously loud. He lies on his bed, eyes closed, wires everywhere. Brushing away crumbs gives me the impression I’m washing my hands of this.
Not of the vampires.
Of life.
I squeeze the lieutenant’s ice-cold hand and head toward the door.
A nurse advances toward me.
“Can you direct me to Doctor Dean please?” I ask.
She points behind her. “He’ll examine the lieutenant shortly,” she says with a caring smile.
The people here are so nice, but, no offense, I never want to see them again.
If I have my way, I won’t.
“Thanks.” I dart around her and locate the doctor near the nurse’s station.
He straightens and turns away from his computer as I approach. “How is he?”
“Shouldn’t I be asking you?” I can’t bring myself to smile. “I just wanted to thank you for doing this for him.”
“Of course. My dad was a firefighter. He… I know what it’s like for people like you.”
“People like me?”
“Heroes,” he clarifies.
I shake my head, dropping my gaze, shocked at his words, depressed that I don’t live up to them. “I’m not a hero.”
Martyr might be more apt.
“Thank you again,” I add. Feeling inferior, I back away, still facing him.
“We still on for our date?” he asks eagerly.
My stomach twists into uncomfortable knots. “Yes,” I lie.
I dash away like a coward toward the front doors. They’re sliding shut behind me when my phone vibrates again. Henrietta has been blowing up my phone since I hung up on her.
I answer. Before I can even say hello, she bursts out with, “I can’t get ahold of my uncle. I wanted to talk to him about—“
“Henrietta—“
“—it’s some kind of disease,” she continues, distressed and anxious. “A strange form of hemophilia. I really do think—“
“Henrietta!”
“I’m working as hard and as fast as I can. We all are, and—“
“Henrietta, please!”
“Yes?”
“About your uncle… the lieutenant… Are you sitting down?”
“Oh my God. Are you telling me that…” There’s a clapping sound. Maybe she slapped a hand to her mouth. “He’s the one who was bitten?”
“Yes.”
“Why didn’t you tell me?” she shouts.
“I just did.”
“Which hospital? I can’t believe this. What are they doing? How are they—“
“High dose antibiotics and antivirals. They’re in the process of swapping out all of his blood and platelets and plasma and all of that. St. Luke’s.”
“I’ll be right there.” This time, she’s the one to hang up.
I call her back immediately, bracing myself, willing myself to not cower away from my duty. “One more thing.”
“Shoot.” She sounds out of breath. Running to her car? “Sorry. Bad choice of words. Go ahead.”
“Better than… Never mind. Ah, I just wanted to say that I appreciate our friendship, and I’m sorry I didn’t tell you right away.”
“I get it. You wanted me to have a level head.” The sound of a car door shutting and engine roaring to life filters through the phone. “No need to apologize.”
“Well, that’s all I wanted to say.”
“Clarissa.” She hesitates. “What’s up?”
“Nothing.”
“He’ll be fine. You’ll be fine. Don’t worry. I’ll be there as quick as I can.”
“Good.” I hang up, try Samantha, but have to leave her a message. Which is terrible. My plan is not a smart one. A hundred thousand different things could go wrong. That message might be the last time we speak. Well, the last time I talk to her.
I don’t want to stay goodbye to her or anyone else.
Next up is Travis. No way can I risk dying on him without talking to him first.
His cell is about to go to voicemail when he answers. “Don’t tell me I’m being called back in already,” he says, dismayed and disgusted.
“Nah. Enjoying your honeymoon?” I ask, eager to hear that someone is enjoying his life. By now, I’m several blocks away from the hospital since I’m running.
“Yeah. We actually snuck out of Bethlehem. Sh.” He lowers his voice. “I can’t tell you where.”
I laugh, but my nerves are shot. I’m too worried and terrified to relax my guard. “Good. I’m glad. I just wanted to check in and see how you’re doing.”
“You aren’t the type of person to do that, not when it’s private time.”
“’Private’?” My grin causes my cheeks to hurt, and two tears drip down my cheeks.
“Yeah, well, what’s really going on?”
When he answered, he sounded kinda tired. Maybe I woke him up, but he’s alert now, agitated and fearful.
Look at what they’re do
ing to us. What we’re becoming. Puppets of fear. Cowerers in the shadows. Victims of terror.
“It’s nothing.” I slow down so he doesn’t realize I’m running and questions me about that. “Just say a prayer for the lieutenant?”
“Why? What happened?”
Feeling guilty and overwhelmed, I swallow past the lump in my throat. The lieutenant won’t want me telling everyone. It’s not my place, and it’s bad enough I already told his niece.
So I lie again, hating myself all the while. “It’s this case. It’s really wearing on him.”
“Can do.” There’s murmuring in the background. “Ali says hi, by the way.”
“Tell her I said hi, that I’m sorry she married down, and have a blast, guys.”
“Hey!” he protests as I hang up.
I turn a right onto Second Avenue. It’s roughly two and a half miles between the hospital and Fairview Cemetery. Should I make any more phone calls? Or just run it there? I’m definitely not a cardio bunny, but I lift weights most days a week, and my legs are strong. I might be able to pull out a seven-minute mile. Okay, seven and a half.
As a cop, it’s impossible to not be vigilant at all times, cognizant of surroundings. I’ve noticed a car trailing me for the past few minutes. I’m not nervous, though. I’ve seen it around before, in the parking lot at the station. When they were perched outside of my place, they used a cop car. This one is Felix’s.
I halt and wait for him to pull alongside me.
Diego rolls down his window, and his arm dangles out. “Where are ya off to?” he asks easily.
Where am I going? Why start to walk to the cemetery now? It’s not night. I don’t know if vamps can walk around during the day or not, if the sun affects them at all. They’re a major worry, a terrifying threat. Still, I’m not about to wait around all day in a cemetery for the moon to shine when I can be living life.
I need an escape, a release, a means to be as human as possible. I’ll channel that into my drive and not hesitate a second when the time comes.
But first, I need to get rid of my guards.
“You don’t have to follow me like a puppy trying to find his master anymore,” I tease.
“You make me wag—“
Embarrassed, I hold up a hand, not wanting to hear it. “Thank you for everything.”