Both Ways

by Ileandra Young

  Silver eyes fly open. Mouth hangs slack.

  The pencil sinks with effort, but I sit up to help it along, wrap my arms around that fanger’s back, and press my chest to his, driving the wood deeper and deeper.

  I stop when he coughs and a dribble of black ooze hits my shoulder.

  His hands drop away.

  As blessed air rushes in, he falls back, scrabbling to find the pencil.

  Too late, fanger.

  I leave him melting into ooze and scoot back on my rear.

  Still at the table, the other two vampires watch in mingled awe and fury. The part giants talk amongst themselves, slow, ponderous words in a language I can’t follow.

  The tall thing gives a sibilant hiss and vanishes—actually vanishes—with a puff of smoke that stinks of sulphur.

  Rayne walks through the smoke residue, hands on hips, head cocked. “Very good, but you’ve still lost. It’s over.”

  “Why?” My voice rasps, but I force the words out. “Why are you doing this? After everything we’ve been through—”

  “A few kisses and a quick fondle? Is that all it takes?”

  “You promised—”

  “I’m a vampire.” Her eyes narrow. “Remember? A liar. A monster. An animal.”

  This can’t be true. It must be some trick.

  My hand lands in a warm puddle.

  Blood.

  Noel’s blood.

  Her smile widens. “Vixen will be thrilled to see you. I seem to remember she had plans if we ever caught you.” She pulls me up by my hair and drags me to the other vampires. “Tie her and let’s go.”

  What have I done?

  Noel. Pippa. My friends upstairs. I’ve killed them all.

  The memory of Barney’s voice rings in my ears, his screams that Rayne can’t be trusted.

  “What are you growling about?” Rayne leans on the table, watching the other vampires secure my arms behind me at the wrists and elbows. They take my knives too, roughly feeling down my body to locate every one, and dump them in a pile on the table.

  I grit my teeth. “Nothing.”

  “Now I know that’s a lie. Remember…I’m tuned in to you.”

  My breath hitches.

  Did all of that mean anything at all?

  I straighten and hold her gaze. “I. Will. Kill you.”

  “Alone?” Rayne’s eyes narrow. A silver glint flickers across them.

  “When the others arrive.”

  “The wolves and your SPEAR colleagues? No, they’re occupied upstairs. By the time they arrive, you’ll be dead and we’ll be long gone. But first, there’s someone I want you to meet.”

  Chapter Thirty-one

  Our steps echo in the passage beyond the arch.

  The single door at the end is guarded by yet another vampire, younger than the others, with a scar across her forehead and down over her left eye.

  She arches a misaligned eyebrow at Rayne. “What are you doing here?”

  “I need to see Vixen.” Rayne barely opens her mouth, but the words are heavy with menace.

  “She’s finalizing instructions with the ground teams, no interruptions. New snacks can be brought in later.”

  Snacks? Like a bag of fucking popcorn?

  I open my mouth.

  Rayne’s hand tightens on the back of my neck.

  Mouth closed.

  “Open the door.”

  The guard shrugs. “No. I have my orders and—”

  A blur across my nose. By the time my brain catches up, Rayne has pulled her fist back and the other vampire leans against the wall, gagging.

  “Did you say something? No? Good. We’ll let ourselves in.” Rayne shoves me ahead of her and leads the other pair through.

  Cells. Dozens of them, small and narrow, in a line along the wall on the left. To the right, an open space filled with milling edanes. Vampires mostly, but also trolls, goblins, werewolves, and what appear to be a handful of sprites. The long, tall creature from earlier stands in the centre near a low table, talking quietly to a woman in a pale green trouser suit.

  I’ve never seen anything like this. No, I’ve never seen anything like this outside SPEAR. This is a base of operations, complete with strong holding facilities.

  So many vampires. Can’t remember the last time I saw so many in one place.

  This is exactly why new laws don’t allow them to nest.

  The woman in green looks up. “Rayne? I knew you couldn’t be dead. Not you. Not my little raindrop.”

  Rayne breathes deep. I know it’s a reflex, but she looks so normal in that moment…so human. Except for the lengthening of fangs. Her eyes brighten, jaw softens.

  Everyone stops, edane and human alike, gazes trained on the action in the centre.

  I stumble forward, following Rayne’s abrupt dart across the space. She wades through the crowd of onlookers and stops before her mistress. “I’m so sorry. I shouldn’t have left. You were right all along, I’m so sorry—”

  A kiss cuts her short, long, deep, and passionate.

  My chest aches. I look away.

  I feel, rather than see, their attention turn to me. A finger curls around the side of my face and pulls my head around.

  “Danika Karson.”

  My jaw aches. “Amelia Smythe. Or is it Vixen?”

  A smile. “Now you know. Tell me, how are you feeling?”

  “Been better.”

  The smile widens and there, at last, are the fangs. They add an edge to her otherwise beautiful features, a harshness that ignites a chill in my chest.

  “Dani? Danika?” Commotion from one of the cells. Scuffling and shouting.

  Everything in my stomach drops to my toes.

  Pippa shoves to the front of her cell, one arm stretched through the bars. “Dani, you’re alive. I was so scared.”

  I open my mouth, but Vixen cuts across me.

  “You know each other? I thought you worked alone, Agent? At least that’s what I’ve heard. No friends, no teammates. Unless…” She steps away from me and closer to the cells. The crowd of edanes parts to let her through.

  Pippa holds her ground.

  “I know that look in your eye, Human. I’ve seen it on our mutual friend. Sisters, perhaps?” Nobody speaks, but that seems to be enough for Vixen, who strides back through the crowd to reach my side.

  She snags my hair and turns slowly, showing me off. “This is Danika Karson.”

  A ripple of anticipation zings through the air.

  “Yes. You understand. This woman, this one agent is responsible for more deaths among our kind than any other SPEAR in the city.”

  Murmurs, some impressed, others fearful, most angry.

  “Highest kill rate in the country,” says a male vampire on the right. “I’ve seen her file.”

  I swivel as far as the grip on my locs will allow. How the hell does he know anything about my file?

  Wait…I know him. He’s a police officer, one of the desk bunnies from Tina’s unit.

  Oh no.

  I look again.

  A woman, pencil skirt and torn blouse, dark hair, and a wedding ring. Mikkleson’s PA?

  Near the back, a man with a mild case of vitiligo on his left cheek. Looks like one of the technicians from Pippa’s department at Clear Blood. I don’t know him well enough to be sure, but I wouldn’t be surprised.

  Plenty of others I don’t know, but in a cell near the back, knees hugged to his chest, is a familiar figure in black, with smudged goth make-up and bite marks up and down his pale bare arms. Mikkleson’s son.

  “Good to see you, Ms. Karson. Shinik tir morea nai.”

  I turn again, facing Marco as he reveals himself from the crowd.

  “Think I look bad? You should see the other guy.”

  He chuckles and moves closer to Rayne, who nods politely at him.

  “Don’t bait her,” snaps Vixen. “Angry blood has a bitter aftertaste.” She speaks so matter of factly, several seconds pass before I realize what she me
ans.

  Before the thought of escape is fully crystallized, Vixen swings a chair out from beneath her desk and shoves me into it with my arms over the back. It forces me straight and demands I put my head back, off balance and vulnerable. Throat exposed.

  Vixen stalks around my chair. “Ladies, gentlemen, others, I had thought to punish SPEAR by killing their prize agent, but that would be an unforgivable waste.”

  Murmurs. The crowd of edanes look to Vixen; even the caged humans look at the tall goddess of a woman with the large grey eyes.

  She strokes my hair, like petting a dog.

  When I jerk my head away, she cuffs me around the face, a casual backhand that makes stars float before my eyes.

  “I’ll make her one of us, as I did with many of you. Danika Karson will work with us. For us. For me.”

  Ice drops into my stomach.

  “No. No, you can’t.” Pippa hammers the cell bars. Shrill notes make her voice dip in and out, but the panic in her eyes is real. “Don’t. Please.”

  Vixen approaches the cell.

  Again I try to stand. My weight is up and forward, my butt off the chair, before Rayne forces me down with a hand on my shoulder.

  Other captured humans retreat to the far walls. Most are wide-eyed and terrified, but Pippa remains at the bars, face close to the gap. Fire burns in her gaze.

  “I should have known you were related, given the trouble you’ve caused since you arrived.” Vixen purses her lips. “You’ll have a first row seat. Get her out.”

  Marco moves in with a key. He opens the cell and grabs Pippa with one slick move. She kicks and thrashes, but he dodges easily. When she makes a second attempt, he slaps her foot down and punches her in the stomach.

  “No!” The chair topples as I throw myself out of it. My shoulder slams into the concrete floor but I don’t feel it. Can’t feel anything but horror for the winded, agonized look on Pippa’s face.

  She wraps her arms around herself and I know what she’s thinking.

  Marco dumps her on the floor, not caring, not knowing what he’s done.

  “Pip?” I worm towards her. “Pip, look at me. It’s okay.”

  “The baby—”

  “—is fine. You’re going to be okay. Both of you.”

  Her eyes shimmers with tears. “Dani.”

  I scream, caught off guard by the hand in my hair. It drags me off the chair and to my knees, then pulls further, not to stand, but to keep me off balance.

  “Can I do it, Vixen?” Rayne shakes me hard enough to rattle my brain against my skull. “Please?”

  Mumbles from the crowd.

  Whimpers from my sister.

  Vixen turns aside from her study of Pippa. “You?”

  “She tricked me into registering with the Foundation. They put my chip in my shoulder, like some tame, domesticated pet. She even killed one of our cousins outside. Please? I want to do it. Please? For you.”

  Dizziness rolls over me. A bitter taste fills the back of my throat.

  “Please, Vixen. By year’s end there’ll be no registration, no chips, no insulting blood banks. We’ll control the mayor—whoever it is—and we’ll make our own laws. We’ll hunt in the open, live where we please, be feared, as nature intended. We’ll destroy anybody who questions us, all in utter freedom because of you. Let me do this small thing in return. Please?”

  I wish she’d stop talking. Her voice, the passion in it, the fire, it turns my stomach. Her grip trembles as she curls her free arm around my shoulders.

  Another shake of my hair.

  I cry out. Without my arms I can’t do anything but hang by my hair, waiting to be eaten.

  Marco frowns. He looks at the entry door, then Vixen. “I think maybe we should—”

  “Quiet.” Vixen raises a hand, then focuses on Rayne. “You’d do this for me?”

  “Anything for you.”

  I cry out again, not from the pain in my head.

  Once more Marco tries to speak. He keeps looking at the door, then the cells, but no one is paying attention. Vixen and Rayne only have eyes for each other, and the crowd of edanes around us is whispering—no, chanting.

  Kill her. Kill her. Kill her. Kill her.

  Pippa sits back on her heels, still hugging her stomach. Tears and terror fill her eyes.

  “I’m sorry.” No way she can hear me with all this racket, but I think she understands.

  She presses her lips together. “I love you, Dani.”

  Marco starts forward. “Vixen, someone is—”

  Something small, round, and red flies through the air. It explodes at the top of its arc and shoots pale threads of smoke in all directions.

  A familiar scent fills the space, sweet and ancient, laced with something more chemical. Sun cream?

  Rayne yells and shoves me down, one hand scooped around my face. The fall is absorbed by her fingers and my teeth mash against her open palm.

  Shouting. Screaming.

  Thudding feet.

  Gunshots.

  I struggle but Rayne pins me flat.

  Everybody running. Shoving. Falling. Scrambling.

  Someone drops in front of me, a vampire, screaming and clawing at her eyes. Blisters sprout on her face and hands, thick, dark, and glistening. They burst an instant later, a foul jet of stinking black ooze.

  “Go, go, go! Hostiles front and centre. Straight through. Hostages to the left.”

  That voice…

  “Danika? Dani!” Pippa.

  I squirm, but Rayne won’t let go.

  Damn her. Damn her to the deepest fucking pit.

  The smoke spreads further, faster. I recognize the smell now, frankincense and a compound including silver. Not smoke, but a gas designed by SPEAR technicians to incapacitate vampires.

  “Dani, where are—no, no, let go. Let go of me! Let go!”

  I jerk my body to the right. Rayne follows, but I can see, through the forest of legs, shoes, and boots. Pippa lies beneath Vixen, struggling to keep sharp fangs away from her upturned throat.

  She’s not going to make it. I know she won’t…and there’s nothing I can do.

  Vixen bites hard, fangs sinking deep. Her throat works as she swallows.

  “Pippa!”

  I’m coughing, lungs filled with that familiar gas. I don’t care, can’t care.

  Rayne’s fingers on my face slacken, then she’s moving, a commando crawl across the ground towards Pippa and Vixen.

  I thrash against the bindings but there’s no give.

  The white clouds seem to thicken as they drop, blanketing me, blinding me, muffling my voice. Can’t see a thing.

  “No, Pippa! Pippa?”

  I give up on escape and worm forward instead.

  I have to get to Pippa.

  A grunt floats through the smoke. A shocked cry. Someone falls, losing their breath. Running footsteps.

  What the hell is happening?

  “Medic!” Even I can’t hear my voice properly, but I call again. “Omega team, on me. Hello?”

  The gas begins to break up.

  Pippa lies several feet away. Her leg twitches but her arms are loose and floppy. Red stains colour her neck and shoulder.

  “Pippa! Pippa, please, look at me. Look at me.”

  Her gaze lifts. So glazed. Mouth open. No words.

  “Pip? Look at my face. Focus on me. Keep looking at me.”

  I’m nearly there. Six feet away. Five. Four.

  Something grabs my bound elbows and hauls me upright.

  Rayne. Blisters dot her face and hands. Three have burst, and thick streams of black ooze dribble down her cheeks.

  “Get the fuck off me—”

  Slash.

  Pressure across my chest and shoulders fades. My arms swing free. Pins and needles race across my aching muscles.

  “Are you okay?” That voice. Like before. Soft. Gentle. Kind.

  Three figures in SPEAR field gear shove Rayne aside. “Agent Karson? Are you okay?”

  M
y legs give out.

  I land on my knees, a jolt I feel right to the top of my head.

  “Karson, personal status report.”

  I blink at the first of the three agents. “Quinn?”

  “Give me your status report.”

  Such a simple command. I know the answer. I know what I’m supposed to say, but my lips don’t work.

  “Karson!” She slaps me. “Hey.” Again. “Report.”

  “Agent Karson”—I lick my lips—“unharmed, untouched. Clear of all known toxicants.”

  They pull me up. Not gently.

  Quinn peers into my eyes and shakes her head. “Shock. Get her out of here. Upstairs with the others.”

  Upstairs? But Pippa—I can’t leave her.

  The thought clears my head in an instant.

  “Pip!” I barge past the agents and drop beside her. “Pip? Sis? Look at me.”

  Her eyes roll up to meet mine. Again an attempt to speak, but she can’t. Her throat…

  I swallow the lump forming in the back of mine and hike a smile to my lips. “Hey, sis. Rough night, huh?”

  She smiles. Tries to.

  “I know what you’re thinking: How do we get all this blood out of our clothes? I’m an expert in that, don’t worry. And if I can’t, we’ll go shopping. You’ll want something nice for the christening, anyway.”

  Tears glitter in her eyes. Again her lips move.

  I can’t stand it. “Pip, I’m so sorry.”

  A hand on my shoulder.

  I know that grip. In the middle of this madness and pain, I know that grip and who it belongs to.

  “I’ll break your neck,” I tell Rayne. “I’ll throw your worthless carcass on a gate spike and dance on your back to drive it in.”

  “You need to get Vixen.”

  More blisters have popped on her face. She’s weak and slow, but her eyes gleam with familiar fiery silver. “I hurt her a little, but I can’t fight any more. You can. Please.”

  I twist away from her hand. It falls limp to her side.

  Another agent hurries up to my side. He lifts the visor on his helmet. “Dee-Dee, sorry for the delay. I had to change, sí? And pick up this little beauty.” He pats the head of the battleaxe peeping out over his shoulder, strapped to his back with a harness that criss-crosses his chest.

  “Noel?” I grip his shoulders. Touch his face. His hair. His vest. His gun. “How?”