“Someone died here?” I said, noticing that more than a third of the lightbulbs around the matinee signs were out.
“But they have movies for like, two bucks,” Gregory replied.
“We should have left you at home,” I snapped at him.
The driver pulled into the narrow drive leading around the back of the building, where the parking lot was.
“Kill the lights,” Mill said before we reached the corner of the building. We cruised around the corner, deadly silent, blending into the darkness—
A black cargo van was parked under one of the few streetlights still capable of function around the back of the theater, its angles hard and stark in the glow from directly overhead.
“There’s the sweep team,” Mill said. “Turn the engine off.”
Again, the driver complied.
As we watched, the door to the van slid open, and figures dressed in black stepped out, one after another.
“They look like an actual SWAT team …” Gregory whispered.
He was right. They wore black from head to foot, and masks over their faces. For a moment I had mistook their attire for a ninja’s—but as they stepped more fully into the light, I realized that the dark wrappings around their heads were, in fact, helmets.
“Why are they wearing those?” Gregory asked. “The helmets.”
“It’s to protect them from the sunlight, right?” I said, glancing to Mill for affirmation. “If they have to work during the day? That way they don’t spontaneously combust.”
His eyes were squinting with concentration, but he nodded. “Yep,” he grunted in reply. “They don’t like to do it—but if they have to …”
“But the sun is still a while off,” I said.
“Shh,” Mill said, holding his hand up.
The group was moving quietly to the back door of the theater.
Why would Roxy and Ivan be here? I would have expected them to have gone to another trendy club or penthouse.
Well, duh, Cassie. That would be the first places I would look if I were Draven. Maybe Roxy wasn’t quite as much of an airhead as I thought she was.
“Okay, you three,” Mill said, turning on us as if we were children. “Stay put.”
“Mill, wait—”
He spared me a glance, but his face was set, and he didn’t respond. Opening the door in a fluid, vampire-quick motion, he slipped out and closed it, somehow without a sound.
He was going to fight them.
He was going to kill them.
… or at least try to, anyway. Laura’s hand found mine, squeezed. I resisted for a second, but eventually let her wrap her fingers around the back of my hand.
“He’ll be okay …” she whispered.
My throat burned. I didn’t reply.
Mill crossed the parking lot in less than a second, and we watched as he stood tall, wound up, and socked the first helmeted vampire right in the middle of his back.
The vampire went flying into the van with a loud crash, crumpling the metal door like tinfoil—there went the surprise factor. A wooden stake stuck out of his chest.
I gasped, and Laura’s hand tightened around mine painfully.
The element of surprise totally gone, the other five vampires in the sweep team whirled on Mill. They unsheathed what looked like police batons from their belts—only these were longer, with wooden tips sharpened to points—
Stakes. My chest tightened in terror as the tableau held for a fraction of a second—
Then the sweep team surged at Mill.
He ducked out of the way of punches flying faster than my eyes could follow, and side kicked another vampire right in the hip, causing him to topple over. In a flash, he shoved the next one down with his shoulder—
Holy smokes.
Mill was a fantastic fighter.
They weren’t slowing, though. They all were getting back on their feet, moving so fast back to the circle around Mill that it was like they were teleporting.
It was insanity. Mill was throwing moves around like he was straight out of The Matrix.
Another vampire hit the ground, screaming, a stake the length of my arm through his neck. Blood like oil spread out beneath him.
“Doesn’t he have a huge hole in his stomach?” Gregory asked, astonished.
“He does,” I said. My voice sounded distant. My hand was turning clammy in Laura’s.
They all moved so quickly, it was hard to tell who was landing hits and who was taking them.
Byron had moved as quickly as these vamps did, he’d been an amateur compared to Mill and these ninja SWAT superhumans. Laura gasped as Mill took a hit to the leg, making him cry out in pain.
“No!” I cried, leaning closer to the window, my breathing coming in sharp, painful bursts.
Time seemed to slow as I watched Mill take another hit, this time right in the gut.
It was like I had been punched, too.
“I can’t just sit here and watch this,” I said. Beads of sweat were forming on my face.
“Cassie, no, that’s crazy!” Laura said, pulling my hand toward her. I had almost forgotten she was holding onto me.
“You’ll get hurt!” Gregory said. Killed, more likely. But Mill was out there—he was being overpowered—
I pulled the stake from my hair, threw open the car door, and made to jump out.
“Cassie! You can’t seriously be thinking about getting involved in that!” Gregory hollered, leaning across Laura to grab the back of my shirt.
It was like my head was not attached to my body. I looked around at Mill, who was lost behind the sweep team.
“Miss Howell?”
I started at the formality, and looked up to see the driver of the car looking back at me with startlingly green eyes.
“Hey, I remember you!” I said. “You’re the driver Iona sent out to meet me a few months ago!”
The driver smiled and tipped his chauffeur hat to me. “William Lockwood. I usually go by Lockwood.”
He nodded toward the trunk of the car.
“If you want to help, you’ll need more than that little stake you’re carrying.”
“What do you—”
There was a distinct click, and the trunk popped open.
Swallowing the bile rising in my throat, I nodded at Lockwood, and stepped out of the car.
Chapter 30
I wasn’t sure what I was expecting in the trunk of the car, but it was not what I found. What lay before me was a full-blown arsenal, arranged in metal cases lined with black foam that smelled brand new. There were wooden stakes by the dozen, ranging from the size of pencils, all the way to several inches in diameter. The leather bag filled to the brim with little glass vials couldn’t be anything other than holy water, and the sealed glass bottles with the strong smell of gasoline indicated Molotov cocktails. Crosses were carefully wrapped in cloth, and there were also candles, and several changes of clothes.
My mouth went dry as I looked through it all.
Mill was a vampire, and yet, here he was, carrying around enough vampire-slaying gear to kill every vampire in the Tampa territory.
What the heck did he get up to in his free time?
I looked up over the car as I heard another crunch of metal, and saw Mill standing on top of the van now, clutching his side.
The vamps in the SWAT gear were circling the van, lions circling their trapped prey.
“Come on, come on …” I whispered under my breath.
If Mill died on me, I was going to …
Where did that sudden surge of desperate hope come from? Why was I so invested in his wellbeing?
You idiot, Cassie. He bent over backward to help you. He flew all the way to Miami because you texted him and told him you were in trouble.
I couldn’t see his face clearly, but the way he was holding his stomach showed that he was not doing well.
He’d surged in so confidently—but now he hung back, reluctant to press any further.
Were we in way over our he
ads?
I couldn’t move. My feet were glued to the spot, my legs heavy as lead.
And then—
A strangled gasp escaped my mouth as Mill suddenly launched himself off the van toward the brick wall of the theater a good twenty feet away. He then immediately jumped off the wall again, using it as a springboard, and flung himself at one of the vamps.
He collided with the SWAT vamp with a howl, and I clasped my hands over my mouth as Mill ripped the vamp’s helmet off, grabbed either side of his face, and then snapped his neck.
The vamp crumpled. Even hurt, Mill was—strong. A lot stronger than I would have thought, even seeing him in action once tonight already. Heat flushed my face. Whether out of fear or … something else, I didn’t know.
Move it, Cassie!
There was a flurry of motion that was too fast for me to follow, but the hits were coming harder and faster.
As the fight continued, my body grew more and more tense. My back ached, my breathing came in shallow bursts.
Mill was incredible. He managed to keep himself outside of the group, never leaving his back exposed for very long. It was almost as if he knew where the next hit was coming from.
The vamp that had had his neck snapped was stirring, trying to lift himself up off the ground. He dragged himself forward—toward Mill, I realized too late, who was engaged with another, taller SWAT vamp, lost in a flurry of blows—
I moved to cry out—
The vamp on the floor latched onto Mill’s ankle with his teeth. Mill roared with pain. Black blood gushed out of him from between the vampire’s teeth, the sulfurous odor intensifying in the night. One of the remaining sweep team members had clambered onto the van—whether to escape, or press an advantage, I didn’t know. It chose the latter option now though: seeing Mill momentarily incapacitated, it leapt down onto him, landing heavily. Mill staggered under its weight and fell. My desperation peaked—and my feet unglued themselves. Reaching into the trunk, I snatched up as many vials of holy water as I could carry—hooked a jagged left around the car, ready to throw—
I froze.
What if one of the vials hit Mill? What if it hurt him more, with his open wounds?
What if it leached inside of him, set him alight, the way it had when Charlie ingested it?
But I had to do something. I was starting to get desperate. I had to get close. I had to help.
I couldn’t let him take the fall for me. I couldn’t.
And what if the vials didn’t land close enough? All it was going to do was draw their attention to me, and inadvertently, to Gregory and Laura, a couple of sitting ducks in the car.
I might have been armed to the teeth, but my reflexes were pathetic next to these vampires. Mill could get hurt. And burning him would do me no good …
Damn it, Cassie, move!
I glanced desperately at the trunk, hoping for some alternative, something I could use that would be more precise than these holy water vials, like grenades launched haphazardly into the night—
Gregory and Laura shrieked, the sound barely muted by the limo’s windows.
I looked up—
My chest constricted.
Mill, who was clutching the front of a vamp’s throat, was hit upside the head, hard. So hard that it sent him flying into the brick wall of the theater.
He wasn’t moving.
And while he was down, one of the other vampires sauntered up to him, wooden police baton in hand. He slowly wound up and brought it down right across Mill’s chest.
Chapter 31
I froze. All I could do was stare at the place where Mill was sprawled, the remaining four vamps closing in on him.
It wasn’t happening. No. It couldn’t be. Mill had to be okay. He had to be.
Everything moved in slow motion—my heart beating in my chest, its mad frenzy turned to a sedate thud … thud; the vampires, advancing on Mill—and me, carried on feet that moved of their own accord. The vampires didn’t see me. Didn’t hear me.
There was nothing left to lose. There was nothing left to do.
Mill had done so much to help me. He had protected me, saved my life at least three times. He deserved the same kind of loyalty from me.
One of the vamps lifted his boot, used his toe to turn Mill’s head to look into the face of his killers.
Anger flared in my chest.
“I’m coming,” I murmured.
Serene calm came over me, pushing fear to the far corners of my mind. My trembling fingers steadied, and I took great, deep breaths. The entire world seemed to be in perfect focus, like my eyes had dilated the way a cat’s did as it set upon its prey. Oxygen swept through me, fueling my body. Adrenaline coursed through my blood too, heightening my reactions, banishing the looming fatigue of another long, unending night.
I had killed three vampires. All of them had terrified me. All of them had tried to kill me. Closer I came.
This near, I could see that the armor covered the sweep team’s chests, backs, and shoulders.
The streetlight glinted off of the glass vials in my hand. I had one chance—and one chance only.
I closed so that I was only feet from the nearest vampire, the last to approach the downed form of Mill …
And then, stake extended, I sprang—
And plunged it right into his armpit, where his armor didn’t quite cover. I angled it hard down, aiming for the heart.
Black, stinging blood sprayed out over my hand, causing it to slip on the stake.
The vampire roared, spun. A hand grabbed for the stake—
I lost my grip, fell backward.
He wheeled around and stared at me, astonished, enraged—and scared.
He was dying. And he knew it.
Slumping down, he hit the ground hard. Still, his clawed fingers worked at the stake embedded in his flesh—but they were weak, and his frantic gripping was become an imprecise flailing motion—
He coughed, dark clots of blackness. Skin melting … Not dead, yet—but down for the count.
Unfortunately—
The others in the sweep team had rounded on me.
Dark glares surveyed me.
The lead resettled his grip upon his baton-stake.
“You two stay with him,” he said, nodding at Mill, who was struggling to get to his feet. “I’ll deal with the backup.”
Backup? Oh, come on. He couldn’t be that dumb, could he? He approached—and removed his helmet.
“Out of breath, are we?” the vampire asked with a cruel grin, his fangs protruding.
I gritted my teeth.
“This is going to be easy,” he said. Then he rushed me.
I dove out of the way, sort of expecting it. This wasn’t the first vampire to have underestimated me.
Thank you, Byron, for teaching me to flinch away from you. So much so that I was able to dodge out of the way of this new friend I was making. But it definitely came at a cost.
The pain from my ribs was starting to rear its ugly head. Whatever adrenaline had been surging through me had done its job, leaving me exhausted, dizzy, and slow.
The vampire laughed at me as I heard Mill throw himself at another one of the vampires from somewhere near the wall.
He didn’t even give me a chance to catch my breath. Again, he seemingly teleported in front of me.
I took a deep breath and launched a punch at his face with my now free hand.
Pain flared through my knuckles from the impact. I recoiled, agonized. Great. Not only had I broken some ribs, but now I was pretty sure that one of my fingers was broken, too.
All I had left were my vials of holy water.
The vampire stalked toward me as I floundered backward, tripping over one of the cement parking spot markers. He flung a punch—
I barely ducked it, wheezing. Damn it, why was I so out of shape? Why hadn’t I taken a self-defense class or something in the past few months?
I staggered backward, mere inches from the fist that sailed again th
rough the air at my face—My back hit something solid. Why was I always getting backed into corners?
The vampire came to a halt right in front of me, his helmet still held casually under his arm.
He was confident he was going to win this fight. Out of the corner of my eye, I could see Mill, struggling to keep the other two off of him. He was only fighting with one hand, the other wrapped tightly around his middle—but he was still fighting, damn it.
“Cassie!” he shouted. “Cassie, run!”
The other vampire in front of me just laughed—and then punched the wall just beside my right ear.
The other hand shot out—and pinned me by my neck in a hold one notch lower than a choke against the wall. I’d screamed at the punch. But his ice-cold fingers locking around my neck stilled it in my throat.
“CASSIE!” Mill roared.
“Now, now,” the vampire said coolly, bending his face lower to mine. His breath was fetid, coppery, like old blood … and cold, like the lungs that produced it. “There’s no need to run off yet. I’m hungry. It’s going to be a long shift. I could use an easy meal.”
I spluttered, unable to force words out of my lips.
“I’ll let my friends take care of your master over there,” the vampire cooed. “Then we’ll see about taking you back to Lord Draven for a little chat.”
My face contorted into a pathetic pout.
The vampire threw his head back and laughed, an evil cackle that chilled my skin. But it was the opportunity I was waiting for.
Before he could move, I snatched one of my holy water vials free—and smashed it open over his mouth.
The effect was instant. His laughter turned to a scream as flames erupted. Releasing me on instinct alone, he screeched, backpedaling, clutching at his skin in horror. But it was too late: enough of the holy water had gone down his throat. Now he was burning from the inside out. And like an ice sculpture, he was going to succumb to it—quickly.
I darted away as he thrashed, contorting wildly, skin turning to black goo—
Arms grabbed me, and I shrieked, fighting and shoving to get away.
“Cassie, it’s okay!” Mill’s voice, I realized.
The fight left me. I fell to my knees, hard, in a street a million miles away from here.
Someone Should Save Her Page 14
