Something—no—somebody came flying one of those empty windows. He crashed hard into one of the parked cars a few yards away.
“Still alive,” Doyle said, his nostrils flaring. “Should I get him?”
“We should try.”
It was a shifter, his eyes closed, face pale. Half his throat looked to be missing.
“One of the rats. Idiot.” Doyle scoffed, but there was sympathy in his voice. “Damon sent word out that the younger and weaker ones needed to lie low. Instead he comes out to a fucking club.”
He looked at me then. “You aren’t staying here, are you?”
“Is that a question or a statement?”
Doyle shook his head. Then we moved off in a darkness backlit by flames.
It didn’t take us long. Soon we were by the fallen shifter’s side and I stood guard at Doyle ripped the man’s shirt off. From the corner of my eye, I could see him as he used it to make an awkward sort of padding to press against the blood still oozing out.
“What do we do?” Doyle asked after long, interminable moments.
I hated myself then. But I met his eyes. “We can’t do much. I was told one the vampire houses would send out transport for the wounded and one is coming here.” Looking at the club we had to clear, I blew out a breath. “If he’s still alive when they get here, they’ll do what they can.”
“You’re going to trust vamps?”
“This is on them. Trust them, no. But they damn well better take care of the clean-up and the fall out.” The sound of a vehicle approaching cut the rest of the conversation short.
Warily, I pulled the firearm I’d started carrying months back. It wouldn’t kill every monster I came up against, and it would only slow down a number of others. But it could cause a significant amount of harm from a distance and stupidly, I took comfort in that.
As I leveled my weapon in the direction of the bus, it came to an idle, settling at a low hum behind my borrowed truck. The other vehicles, three cars, all pulled up in formation and parked.
Nobody exited the bus.
Three vampires flowed from the car taking point and came toward us.
“You’re from the Assembly?” the woman in front said, her eyes flat and cold.
“Yes.”
She slid her gaze back to Doyle. “He is not.”
“No. He’s with me.”
She digested that and then nodded. “We’re with House Allerton. I’m aware of the Assembly’s missive. That said, if you kill any vampire who isn’t lost to bloodlust, I will snap your neck.”
I slapped a hand on Doyle’s chest to keep him from advancing on her. “I know my job description,” I said mildly. “As long as nobody looks to go nibbling on me and keeps his or her hands to himself, I don’t plan on killing anybody who doesn’t need killing.”
“Then we are agreed.”
She said nothing else, stepping around me and striding toward the windows.
The sounds inside hadn’t decreased. They were… animalistic. Snarls and hisses. Crying. And low, furious whispers.
Keeping my hand on my weapon, I glanced over at Doyle.
He had his ax in one big hand and his face looked remarkably calm, save for his eyes. They gleamed a brilliant blue and the energy rolling off him was stinging in its intensity.
The vampires were already inside and Doyle went next, leaving me to look back out over the parking lot. I lingered another moment, staring at the shifter still lying on the car and bleeding. As I pondered him, though, two people emerged from the bus and headed in his direction.
Hopefully somebody would be there to help him soon.
Then I turned to the window and jumped in, braced for whatever I might find.
Chapter Sixteen
Blood congealed under my feet, making the floor slippery. It made a weird sucking sort of noise as I walked, clinging to the bottom of my boots.
I would so be throwing these out.
The flashing white and red lights, the mirror ball hanging from the ceiling played tricks on my vision, forcing me to go at a snail’s pace.
Up ahead, Doyle was nearly halfway across the room, the lights gleaming off his pale hair and turning him into a very pretty target.
I’d pulled a cap over my own blonde locks, but I hadn’t thought to give him one.
He was fast enough to evade anything that might try to sneak up on him in the crazed, flickering darkness, but there was no reason to turn one’s self into a giant, walking bullseye.
Of course, a blood-crazed vampire was akin to a hyena. They’d go after the weakest link. That wasn’t Doyle.
That was…
The scrambling sound came even as that final thought rolled through my head and I jerked my firearm up, sighting on the vampire scuttling across the ground on her hands and knees.
Guns weren’t my primary weapon choice but at times they were the most effective and this was one of those times.
I saw Doyle spin, his axe going up, just as the vamp leaped from the floor.
I squeezed the trigger.
She dropped.
Doyle kept on swinging.
Her head separated from her body in one hard, heavy blow.
The vampires had turned to look, moving in a creepy sort of unison and they looked from the body to Doyle to me. Then, as one, they all turned back and kept moving.
I could see where they were going, understood why.
But my target, for now, was Doyle. Striding toward him, I shoved my hand into one of the pockets on my vest, pulling out a black bandana. “Cover your hair. You look a little too pretty and tasty for a feral vamp.”
“She wasn’t coming at me, Kit.”
“Shut up.” I held out my hand for his axe and shoved the bandana toward him. He accepted it, scowling the whole time. Once I returned the axe, we continued on, side by side, staring at the group on the stage.
They’d noticed us.
Us. Not the vampires who had entered the building with us—the ferals weren’t even taking notice of those three. The two men had split off in opposite directions and the woman had leaped up onto the stage, walking forward in slow, graceful steps.
Another feral one stared at me.
She licked her lips, looked at Doyle, paused, then her eyes came right back to me.
Her entire body quivered and there was blood staining her chin and the front of her shirt. Most of it was dry, too.
From behind her, I heard a soft sob.
One of the other feral vampires made a strange sort of whining sound, low in his throat. I would have expected to hear that sort of noise from a hungry dog, not something that used to be human. Not something that had probably been capable of reason less than twelve hours ago.
At the noise, somebody beyond the wall of feral vampires starting to cry, deep, ugly noises.
“Please stop that,” the woman from House Allerton said in a cool tone. “You excite them when you do it.”
The sobbing continued.
“If you’re going to persist in making yourself appear to be prey, then I’ll order my people to leave you here alone. Is that what you want?”
“Shut that little bitch up!” somebody snapped.
I heard a grunt, followed by a crash.
“Lay a hand on her or anybody else here and I remove it at the wrist.” Those words were delivered in a calm voice—a familiar one. “And bear in mind…nobody is being left here tonight. Unless you plan on killing me as well as the mindless.”
Abraham.
One of the few—very few—vampires I didn’t outright despise on sight was in there.
Hissing caught my ears and I turned to see one of the ferals creeping closer, his eyes cloudy, face a bloody mask. Head cocked, he gave me a quizzical look. And his eyes locked on my throat.
I sighted on his forehead and pulled the trigger.
His head evaporated in a burst of red mist.
The whining on the stage increased, the smell of blood and death agitating the pack.
“How many alive are with you, Abraham?” the woman said.
“Six. Three are human. One is hurt.”
So they had three good bodies, plus our five. And three useless ones. Against…I did a quick look around the room and decided that fate just fucking sucked. There were seventeen feral vampires in this room that I could see.
Seventeen.
The back of my neck crawled and I spun around, weapon raised.
But Doyle had already taken action, axe at the ready. As the vampire’s head and body went their separate ways, he gave me a hard look.
Ignoring him, I focused back on the tableau playing out in front of us.
“I hear rumors that you are rather fast with that weapon of yours.”
Tossing a glance at the woman, I wondered if I was going to like how this played out. “I’m fast enough. Why?”
“We need to cut down their numbers. At a distance.” She gestured to a far wall. “You can place your back there so none of them can come at you. Take your cat so he can guard you. And kill as many as you can.”
It was as good a plan as any.
Doyle followed along with me. The sound of metal against leather caught my ears and I looked over to see him pulling the knife he’d drawn from the sheath at his thigh. Axe in one hand, knife in the other. “Make sure you don’t catch me with one of those things.”
He gave me a grim smile. “Make sure you don’t shoot me.”
“Your big head is easy enough to avoid.” Doyle and I checked the area, made sure there weren’t any doors or tables, nothing a vampire could be hiding in or under. It was as secure a place as I was going to get.
Turning, I saw both the woman and one of her men taking down two more vampires. A third was edging toward the stage, eyes seeking me out.
“I think they like you, Kit,” Doyle said in a low voice.
“I’m the weakest link.” Irritated, I took aim. “She wants to know how fast I am…”
⸸
“I could have told her you were fast.”
The voice was familiar.
Cool and remote, but not as collected as I was used to hearing from one Abraham Allerton.
I’d been taking a pseudo-rest—or as close as I’d probably come for a while—with my back to the wall and my eyes on the door. Doyle was in a chair a few feet away, straddling it while his feet drummed the floor and his eyes roamed the room.
At the sound of Abraham’s voice, we both looked up.
He looked…not good.
Bloody gashes lined one cheek and it looked like somebody had tried to gut him—manually. He was sheet pale and his eyes didn’t seem to be tracking right.
“You all good in there, Abraham?” I asked cautiously.
He gave a short nod.
“Something isn’t…” He passed a hand in front of his eyes. “I’m stable. More than I can say for the ones I was sent to collect. And some of the humans who were in the club. This has become quite ugly. And it will get worse.”
His lip curled as he delivered that simple statement.
Yeah, ugly was one way to say it.
When humans died on our turf, some of us tended to die as well.
“The Assembly is already working on spinning it.”
That came from the woman who’d met Doyle and I outside.
“Teresa.” Abraham turned his head, the rest of his body abnormally still. It made the movement seemed reptilian. Alien. “What has happened within the house?”
Her mouth went tight and she shot a look at me and Doyle.
I wasn’t planning on removing myself from this spot until I was given another locale. I wanted the breather and I preferred to take it in a place I knew to be secured.
When I didn’t take her oh, so subtle hint, she put more heat in the look, arching a brow.
Yeah, that wasn’t going to do it either.
“Hey, we got dragged into this. Don’t expect me to take a walk just so you can chat with your buddy. I’m tired. I’m staying right here until I know my next step.” With a shrug, I added, “Besides, I already have a good idea why we’re walking around ankle-deep in blood.”
Teresa’s eyes narrowed, then her lashes swept low.
“Is that a fact?” she murmured. “You know, if blood bothers you, dear heart, you can run back to your doting alpha. I’m sure he’ll keep you safe.” Her eyes slid to Doyle, lingered on his face, then slowly traveled down his body. “He has no shortage of muscle to put at your side.”
“Kiss ass,” I suggested.
She flashed fang at me.
Abraham stepped between us. No words were spoken, at least not audibly, but vamps had was of communicating that went beyond mere words.
A moment later, Teresa was backing up a step, shuddering slightly.
She pressed a hand to her temple, her gaze blind and locked. There was blood dripping from her nose.
“Please answer my question, Teresa,” Abraham said, voice even chillier now. “I’m weary and out of patience.”
“Allerton is dead.”
There was a ripple effect around the room as numerous people caught their breath. Even the vampires who only took a few breaths every couple of minutes gasped in shock.
Abraham’s face went white, then hot splashes of color rushed to his cheeks, before fading away almost instantly. He didn’t have enough blood volume to maintain that telltale flush caused by rage, maybe even pain, I suspected.
But the emotions lingered in his eyes.
Nobody spoke.
It was one of the rare times when even I couldn’t think of anything to say.
Allerton—the head of Abraham’s house—was dead?
Okay. I was wrong. I did have something to say. Without any conscious thought, I blurted out, “What the hell?”
Teresa turned dead, soulless eyes on me. “This doesn’t concern you.”
“Teresa.” Abraham’s voice sliced through the air and she directed her gaze back to him.
“He was assassinated, Abraham. Our master was assassinated.”
Chapter Seventeen
I was almost numb.
This was a lot worse than I’d thought it would be. Although I could always feel all warm and fuzzy knowing I’d been right about one thing at least—this wasn’t all House Amund.
Two vampire masters dead in one night was bad enough, but word came in that seven anchors had been killed.
Anchors, while not master vampires, were formidable, pillars of strength within their homes.
The dead came from at least four of the six houses. After receiving the news from Teresa, Abraham had left the ruins of the club and gone outside. Doyle and I had shared a look, then followed.
We emerged just in time to see him disappear into the bus.
So we’d waited.
Less than ten minutes later, he came back out and the news he had was grim.
In a flat, cold voice, he’d announced that there wasn’t an official death toll from House Allerton, but in addition to Allerton, one anchor was dead and they were still trying to assess the rest of the damage.
Hundreds of vampires from the other houses were dead, all stemming from the assassinations of the anchors.
It seemed somebody had declared a war on vampires in Orlando, but they were doing it in secret.
It was a thought that I realized I really didn’t find intriguing. It was just plain scary. Who’d pick a fight with vamps? And why?
He’d sent the vampires within the club, and the humans, off with Teresa. She’d tried to argue, only to go silent in seconds.
Then he’d joined Doyle and me. For the past few hours, he’d said little as we’d gone from one hotspot to the next.
The night was proving to be unending and even when dawn painted the horizon a paler shade of gray, I didn’t take much comfort.
If vampires nearly a century old were being affected by this epic fall-out, then we were going to be dealing with plenty who could venture out into the sunrise.
Eying the lightening sky, I shot Abraham a look. “How are you holding up?”
There was a fresh wound on his face and while it hadn’t bled at all, it hadn’t healed either.
That couldn’t be a good sign.
Abraham didn’t seem to have heard my question and I looked over at him.
Doyle had climbed into the driver’s seat after Abraham had climbed in, not saying a word. I assumed he wanted my weapon hands free in case I needed them, but Abraham wasn’t about to lose it.
At least not like that.
But the way he stared out the window, his eyes blank and face remote made it clear he wasn’t exactly operating in the here and now. While it made sense, I needed to jerk him back into orbit.
I had no idea what the hell was going on.
I didn’t get vampires the way I got shifters—and I was happy with that.
But I needed to understand what was going on now.
“Abraham.”
“I heard you, Kit.” He finally turned his head my way and our eyes met.
It was like staring into an empty cavern.
“I need to feed and I’m…” He waved a hand in front of his face. “It’s been explained how a vampire family operates. Our anchors are gone and all of them are trying to latch onto what strong vampires remain.” He grimaced. “I don’t have enough centuries in me for this, but they are trying.”
“You…” I frowned, puzzling through those words. Finally they made sense and I blew out a low breath. “Your family is trying to make you an anchor, aren’t they?”
“Yes. I feel like I’m drowning in them.” His lashes drooped. “I need to feed.”
Doyle flicked a look at me and shook his head.
Rolling my eyes, I went back to staring out the windshield. That wasn’t even an issue. I’d opened a vein for a vampire before. It wasn’t happening again, even for somebody I considered a friend.
“The last number I received was that over a hundred had died. We have a small house, Kit.” A faint pause, then he added, “Smaller now. Weak, even.”
The truck pulled up to the nearest curb and I looked over at Doyle. “What are you doing? We need to get to the next hotspot.”
Haunted Blade (Colbana Files Book 6) Page 15
