Devotion Calls

by Caridad Piñeiro

  With a shake of his head, he said, “Aaft-terrr h-h-human-n.”

  The woman’s struggles intensified, and the man glanced at her once again, his look pleading. But then he turned his attention back to him. “Until she’s free, I will not help you.”

  He had waited far too long to let anything get in his way. Especially a battle over a puny human woman.

  “N-nooo.” He walked to the woman and grabbed hold of her throat in one large hand. He squeezed tightly and faced the man, resolute in his intentions.

  Sara’s gaze locked with Ricardo’s, pleading but not defeated, even as the chupacabra slowly strangled her. Somehow he knew she didn’t want him to give in to the monster, even if it meant losing her life. But he couldn’t sacrifice her for himself. If he could keep the chupacabra occupied long enough, maybe the others would arrive in time.

  As Sara’s face paled and she kicked the wall in her struggle for air, Ricardo summoned some of his power. He reached out and touched the chupacabra with a promise of what he could deliver—the humanity the beast sought.

  “Stop and I will help you,” he said.

  When the creature finally released Sara, she sagged against the wall, hurt but still conscious. Ricardo met her gaze one last time and said in Spanish, “Do not worry. Help is on the way.”

  Sara heard him. Understood the plea in his voice. But she couldn’t let him save her at the cost of his life. She recalled what he had explained to her—that his power to heal had a limit. That expending too much of his strength could kill him. Help might arrive way too late for him unless…

  As Ricardo approached the beast, holding his hands out in invitation to join with him, she somehow managed to spit out the cloth the chupacabra had stuffed into her mouth. Hoping as Ricardo had that the beast didn’t know Spanish, she implored, “Kill it. You know you can. All you have to do is touch it. Please, Ricardo.”

  A sad smile came to his face. “Then I would be no better than it, my love.”

  A second later, the beast grabbed hold of Ricardo’s hands.

  As the chupacabra engaged him, the jolt of the connection was stronger than what he had experienced before. The darkness he had feared for so long arrived, devouring him with its evil, pulling at his center as the beast greedily fed from his power.

  Ricardo shot one last look at Sara. Tears streamed down her face as she repeated yet again, “Kill it. Please.”

  Only he couldn’t do as she asked, even though it would be simple enough. All he had to do was merge the dark power with his own to make himself strong enough to suck the life from the beast.

  But that evil power would stay with him forever, he knew. Change him. Make him something other than what he was now—a good man. An honorable one.

  He wouldn’t give in to the evil.

  Instead, he closed his eyes and focused on his center. He imagined the energy he had within him moving outward into the beast’s paws. Suddenly, the warmth of human skin replaced the slimy chill that held his hands.

  He opened his eyes and realized that the gray-green scales on one of the beast’s hands was gone, replaced by creamy skin. Human skin. Before his eyes, the talons on that hand receded and humanity slowly spread up that arm.

  With each bit of progress, Ricardo weakened. Too quickly. At this rate, he would be powerless well before anyone could find them.

  Pain racked his body as the beast sucked his life from him, draining his energy. Once the creature was done with him, Ricardo knew it would seek retribution against Sara.

  He couldn’t let that happen. Drawing a deep breath that was rank with the foul odor of the beast, he opened himself to the few pinpricks of free-floating energy around them.

  With what little strength he possessed, he extended himself and brought those scattered molecules of power within him, feeding them to the beast.

  He kept that up until no unbound energy remained in the vicinity. Until he had no choice but to sacrifice the last of the energy within himself.

  As the transformation of the beast surged onward, Ricardo’s legs weakened and he dropped to his knees. If not for the chupacabra’s grasp on his hands, he would have fallen prostrate, he was growing so feeble.

  Before him, the demon hopped from foot to foot in what Ricardo was recognizing to be its happy dance. An assortment of chirps and squeals came from its lipless mouth, but Ricardo was too weak to concentrate on the noises in order to figure out what was happening. What it was saying.

  As black circles danced before his eyes, he looked back up at Sara, knowing this might be the last time he set eyes on her. Knowing that in as little as a few seconds, he would lose consciousness.

  Sara knew it, as well, for she yanked at the hook, trying yet again to get free, but she was too firmly bound.

  Somehow he drew a breath and, with the last of his strength, said, “I love you.”

  She couldn’t let him do it. She couldn’t live with herself if she did.

  Sara yanked at the hook, wincing as the metal bit deeper. But nothing happened.

  Ricardo’s eyes closed and he sagged even more. In response, the chupacabra encircled his body in his chimera arms—one demon, one human. But this was no friendly embrace. It was a death grip, if she couldn’t somehow break them apart.

  She jerked and fought against the wire, her feet barely touching the ground, until it occurred to her she was going about it all wrong. Picking up her legs, she bent her knees and placed her feet flat against the wall, while maintaining tension on the wire on her wrists. Pain sliced deeper into her skin, but she fought it back. She had to concentrate on her balance, and time her surge carefully….

  Closing her eyes, she sucked in a deep breath, shifted her weight so that it rested on the hook, making it possible for her to bunch up her legs on the wall just a little more. Enough so that when she shifted her weight…

  She pushed upward, while at the same time swinging her bound hands. It was enough.

  Her hands cleared the hook and she found herself tumbling to the ground.

  She hit hard, landing with a thud, but the chupacabra was still too focused on Ricardo to notice.

  Sara didn’t waste a moment.

  She came to her feet and barreled toward them, knocking into the beast and Ricardo with enough force to loosen the demon’s hold.

  They all tumbled to the ground, but Ricardo didn’t get up. He lay there, unconscious, as she and the beast faced off.

  The chupacabra’s rage was something to behold. It reared up on its hind feet and began to swat at its chest like an enraged gorilla. She only hoped that the nondemon appendage now possessed nondemon strength. It might give her a chance in a fight.

  After the chest thumping, it turned on her, ready to exact punishment for her interruption.

  Years of combat training took over as she came to her feet, bound hands before her in a ready posture.

  The chupacabra charged.

  She let loose with a dropkick to the beast’s chest, but it was like hitting solid rock. The recoil sent her flying backward into the sewer wall. The force of the impact nearly drove the breath from her lungs.

  The chupacabra advanced on her. She sucked in a breath and steadied herself, needing to be ready to defend herself.

  But then something blasted past her and into the path of the oncoming demon.

  For a moment it was just a blur, but then she realized it was Diana. The FBI agent stood between her and the
demon.

  When the chupacabra charged, Diana met it head-on, unleashing a series of jabs and a roundhouse kick that rocked the beast to one side of the sewer tunnel, dazing it momentarily.

  Diana took that opportunity to call out, “Grab Ricardo and get out of here.”

  Sara seized the moment and swept behind her to where Ricardo lay on the ground. When she knelt beside him and cradled his head in her lap, she realized he was barely conscious.

  “Come on, Ricardo. We need to go,” she urged, stroking his forehead in the hopes of rousing him further.

  In front of her, Diana kept the chupacabra at bay, meeting its every attack with an effective defense.

  Her hands and feet were a lightning-fast blur, blocking each blow, driving the creature farther from Ricardo and her.

  As the demon stumbled, Diana slipped past its wildly swinging arms and the knot at the end of its tail to inflict punishment of her own. The beast’s bellow of rage and pain echoed off the tunnel walls.

  At the sound, Ricardo rose up on one elbow, shaking his head. When his gaze met Sara’s, she could see he was beginning to understand what was happening. As a particularly loud and meaty thunk came from across the way, he looked in that direction.

  “Diana,” he said, shaking his head again as if in disbelief that the FBI agent was keeping the beast at bay.

  Sara, too, found it hard to believe, since the beast was not only larger than the petite woman, but should have been that much more powerful.

  Too powerful for a human to handle.

  As Diana vaulted up and over the beast, she seemed superhuman, and in that moment, it occurred to Sara that maybe Diana was not what she appeared to be.

  Diana dodged blow after blow, but her body ached where the chupacabra had connected. The monster was strong. Possibly too strong.

  Still, she kept at the demon, hoping that the others would soon be on their way. Maybe between all of them, they could subdue the beast.

  Dancing around the creature, she dodged its attacks and got in a few licks of her own. As the beast charged her, she sidestepped its blow, but her foot slipped on a slick spot on the floor. Off balance, she was exposed for a moment while she tried to regain her footing.

  Sensing that moment of weakness, the chupacabra drove straight at her with its remaining demon hand, sinking its needle-sharp talons deep into her midsection. Fire erupted within her, and with an angry swipe, the beast tore open her abdomen.

  She grabbed at her stomach, feeling as if her guts would spill out of her body. She lost her footing as the world became an unfocused haze of pain, and she fell back heavily against the wall.

  Though agony swept through her, she struggled to rise, knowing she had to protect the santero and the woman. As she did, she felt heat slowly build in her midsection, a sure signal that the wound was already healing.

  Before she could advance on the demon, however, two bodies streaked into the breach between her and the beast—Samantha and Ryder.

  While Samantha took a step toward the chupacabra, Ryder moved to Diana. She shook off his concern. “Take care of it,” she said, but her voice was weak.

  Ryder knew better than to argue with her, and turned his attention to fighting the beast who seemed more determined than ever to get to the santero, as if realizing that their arrival put an end to its dream.

  Ricardo, however, was headed her way, Sara at his side, supporting him.

  Diana let herself drop to the ground, still clutching her midsection. She looked down. Blood still flowed from the deep slashes. Too much blood. She wasn’t healing as fast as she had expected.

  Sara sat down beside her. “Let me see,” she said, placing her bloodied hands over Diana’s.

  “I’m okay,” Diana replied, though she was far from it. In the many months since being contaminated with Ryder’s blood, she’d had unusual strength and speed, coupled with remarkable healing powers. But those powers were failing her now.

  On the other side of her, Ricardo reached out and brushed her hand away. Quickly he examined her wound and laid his hand on her wound. But then he suddenly pulled away from her, as if burned by the contact.

  Diana looked up and met his gaze. He seemed confused, then sad. A second later, he said, “I’m sorry. I can’t heal what you have.”

  She wanted to ask why, but couldn’t as the chupacabra let out a bloodcurdling scream and charged the two vampires.

  Chapter 26

  T he contact with Diana had left Ricardo shaken, but the battle before him immediately commanded his full attention.

  Time and time again, the chupacabra charged Ryder and Samantha, trying to break past them and get to him. He knew that without a doubt, for in the midst of its angry squeals and cackles, he could hear its plea.

  Make me human. Make me human.

  It came in his head, over and over again, pummeling him mentally.

  Only he couldn’t heed its plea, and the demon would never accept that as an answer. That was clear as the chupacabra repeatedly attacked, landing blow after blow on the two vampires.

  Blood flew from the wounds it inflicted. Spittle dripped from the beast’s mouth as it tried to bite its two assailants. It opened its mouth wide and vented its frustration with an ear-piercing scream. But the two vampires kept up their defense.

  As the chupacabra’s desperation grew, so did the force of its attack, until it was clear that Ryder and Samantha had no choice.

  They had to either kill or be killed.

  Slowly they worked the chupacabra farther away from Ricardo and the two women, almost as if to spare them the sight of the bloodbath that was sure to come.

  As they pushed it around a bend in the tunnel, Ricardo turned his attention to Diana once more, intending to use his medical training to at least stop the bleeding long enough to get her to a hospital for treatment. But as Diana moved her hand away from the wound, he realized that the deep gashes that had nearly torn her open were rapidly disappearing before his eyes.

  “How?” he heard Sara ask.

  Diana shook her head. “I don’t know,” she said as she slowly rose to her feet, her shirtfront soaked with blood and hanging in tattered shreds.

  From around the bend in the tunnel came the loud screeches and shrill sounds of the chupacabra, punctuated by flesh hitting flesh.

  Diana reached beneath her jacket and took out her weapon, clearly intending to go help out the two vampires, but then another sound intruded behind them. Someone sloshing through the sewers, Ricardo realized.

  As they turned toward that sound, Peter came running toward them, gun in hand. At the sight of the blood staining Diana’s shirt, he stopped, worry and fear apparent on his face.

  “I’m okay,” Diana reassured him, and inclined her head in the direction of the tunnel. “They need our help,” she said.

  Guns drawn, Peter and she moved toward the fight, but suddenly there came a loud long squeal, agonizing in its intensity and pain. A second later, the ground seemed to shake from the force of something heavy falling.

  Within him, Ricardo felt something break free and surge out of him, so forcefully that his knees gave way.

  Sara was immediately at his side, offering support. “Ricardo?” she asked as she slipped beneath his arm and helped him upright.

  “It’s gone,” he said, and as if in confirmation, Ryder and Samantha returned from around the bend, bloodied but alive.
<
br />   Instinct took over and he moved toward them, ready to heal them, but then he stopped short. His powers couldn’t work on one of the undead, just as he couldn’t help Diana before.

  He looked in her direction, where Peter hovered close to her side, his concern palpable. She shook it off, much as she did that of Ryder when he approached.

  “I’m fine,” she said, but shot a glance at Ricardo. That quick look confirmed that Diana knew something was wrong with her. Something he couldn’t help her with.

  “Ricardo? Don’t you need to rest?” Sara asked.

  He nodded, but stopped to ask the others, “Is there anything we can do about…”

  Ryder spoke first. “Samantha and I will find somewhere to lay it to rest.”

  “Yes, mon ami,” Samantha confirmed. “It’s best you and Sara go now. You don’t need to worry about it anymore.”

  He wasn’t about to argue. The fight with the chupacabra had drained him, and Sara needed someone to see to her injuries.

  “Let’s go, mi amor.” Together they slowly sloshed back through the tunnels to the open manhole. Ricardo helped boost Sara up to the first rung on the ladder, and then joined her, steadying her on the climb up.

  With his arm slung over her shoulder, they walked back to his shop and up to his apartment. Dead tired, he wanted nothing more than to drop into bed, but they were both covered with the muck from the sewer and blood. The beast’s. Sara’s. Diana’s.

  Without saying a word, they both knew what was necessary.

  Ricardo warmed the water in the shower and then they undressed and slipped beneath its caress. Arms around each other, they let the water wash away the filth and death of the night. Afterward, they soaped and wiped each other down, Ricardo taking extra care with Sara’s injured wrists.

  He didn’t have enough energy to heal her, but he could quell the pain there and accelerate the process a bit.