“Do what?” I ask.
He blinks as if confused by my question. “Uhh, not get hit and make me drop my sword.”
It takes all my self-control not to whistle in awe. Seriously?
Jay wraps duct tape around Virgil’s neck, then pats me on the shoulder. “Don’t mind Stan. He’s cognitively disadvantaged. If you’re going to explain anything to him, use small words.”
Stan glares at him.
Wow. The guy’s named Stan. No offense to other men named Stan, but this guy looks like a ‘Stan.’ His expression makes me half expect he’s about to say ‘Mongo like candy.’
“Umm. I dunno. Got lucky, I guess.”
“Heh.” Jay adds a little more duct tape to keep Virgil’s head in place. “She must’ve been on her school fencing team. Guessing she actually knows how to use a blade. Pretty rare skill for a kid these days.”
I shrug. “Had a little training.”
Jay shuts the Suburban’s rear hatch. “Only a little?”
Technically, I didn’t lie. Dalton only gave me a brief amount of actual training. Most of the knowledge, he just kinda uploaded into my head. The other four vampires, plus Amy, Luke, and Dante, crowd around me.
“So, uhh, what happened?” I ask.
“Some nimrod thought it would be funny to toss a couple Molotovs through the windows of one of Mr. Wolent’s properties,” says Jay.
Did I mention this guy is tall? I’m head level with his pectorals.
“Wow. What made him suspect Lost Ones?” I glance sideways at Amy. Despite her ‘Nirvana inspired’ outfit, she’s the picture of blonde, blue-eyed innocence.
“Security cameras,” says Donnie. “Bunch of punks. They moved too fast for mortals or to get a good look at ’em. Mr. Wolent was unable to determine the origin of the attacks, so it had to be anarchists operating outside the system.”
“We’re not the only ones in Seattle who ignore politics.” Amy rubs a sore spot on her arm.
“Any idea who might’ve done it?” asks Jay.
She stops short of laughing. “We don’t keep attendance records or have weekly check in meetings.”
“Right, come on.” Jay motions at the door. “Sarah, you coming with us?”
“Umm. I’ve got a ton of homework, but…” I glance at my three friends. It would be pretty lame of me to bail on them, and I’m not sure if Mr. Wolent would consider it bad form for me not to be there. So… yeah, might as well. “This is important.”
A Suburban has a lot of room, but nine people is still pushing it a bit. Since I’m on the small side, I end up in Dante’s lap. He’s cool. Total big brother type situation. Jay drives. Hopefully, this won’t take too long or end with me obligated to do a long, tedious mission for Wolent. If he’s trying to track down anarchist vampires, who may or may not be actual Lost Ones, the ‘sweet suburban girl’ is not the right agent to use. Let’s just say I don’t blend in among those circles. Had I been a goth, a pothead skateboarder, or a punker, sure.
So, some anarchists decided to firebomb Wolent’s business interests. Just like Petra’s house. A Molotov through the window. No one really knows how many unaffiliated vampires are in Seattle. Heck, Dalton’s technically one of them, as he doesn’t pay any attention to politics.
Oh, crap. I stare at up at the roof. Please don’t be Petra. She’s not the most patient individual. If she sent some idiots to poke Wolent out of revenge, it’s not going to end well for her. Can’t say I’d lose much sleep if she ended up removed from the world. The woman might be evil as hell, but she’s not an idiot. Can’t see her benefiting in any way by antagonizing him. Now Stefano, on the other hand, would totally be interested in creating a situation where he could ‘dethrone’ Wolent and take over as the de facto ‘head vampire’ of Seattle. He’s around 250 years old. Wolent’s only 175. It probably annoys Stefano to have a ‘kid’ calling the shots. Paolo is even older. I think Aurélie said he’s almost 300.
Going to meet Wolent. Shit. I hope he doesn’t look into my head and see those two morons who attacked me for Stefano. Knowing him, he’d probably connect some dots and think the warehouse arson is also part of the same scheme.
Ugh. Maybe I should’ve bailed and gone home. I’m sure Wolent won’t hurt Amy, Dante, or Luke. However, my being here increases the chances of this ending peacefully. Dammit. No idea what’s about to happen, either in the next twenty minutes or few days, but I am sure it’s going to be messy.
Probably very messy.
8
Did Anyone Order Zombies?
Sierra held her sword in both hands, staring at the smear of chemical on the blade.
Formaldehyde is poisonous. I shouldn’t touch or breathe it.
The hellhound stalked off into the woods, shimmering back to invisibility. Branches and small trees seemingly moved on their own out of its way. She ran after it, holding her breath until she couldn’t smell the fumes from the ‘juicy’ zombie.
Weird the one guy didn’t leak at all, not even blood. She narrowed her eyes. Vampires must have killed them… but why refill the dead guys with formaldehyde? Who the heck puts that stuff in people? She scrunched her nose. Oh, duh. Like funeral homes, right?
Sierra, her siblings, and friends sometimes played in the small patch of forest inside the circle of houses. Sam, Daryl, and Jordan got more use out of it than the girls, but she still generally knew her way around. Even if she got lost, going in a straight line for a thousand feet would definitely bring her to civilization. It didn’t look the same at night, but she had a feeling she headed north toward 169th Place.
An invisible ‘branch’ pressing across her chest made her stop. She grabbed at it, finding a partially furry, partially chitinous tail blocking her path like a gate at a parking garage.
He’s telling me to stop here.
She nodded.
The tail dropped away. A zipper sound came from ahead.
Sierra crept three steps forward, taking cover behind a tree and peering past it at two people in the clearing outside the forest between two houses. They appeared to be gathering empty body bags and bundling them up. The woman looked Hispanic, dressed like a punk rocker, her hair dyed sky-blue. Beside her stood a guy who looked like almost everyone she’d seen at Dad’s office. Thirtysomething, slightly chubby, white polo shirt, glasses.
Bet that guy has twenty alts all at level cap in WoW. She grinned to herself. Not judging. Just, he looks like he belongs in front of a computer, not releasing zombies into the wild.
“So damn creepy,” said the guy. “Watching the dead sit up.”
The woman rolled her eyes. “Hello? Vampires? What do you think they are?”
“Yeah, I know.” The guy pointed a rolled-up body bag at her. “But they don’t look dead. Or moan. Or stagger around like drunk Muppets.”
“Hah.” The woman laughed. “What the hell does a drunk Muppet look like?”
Uh oh. Vampires.
Arms came around Sierra from behind, grabbing her in a bear hug. A man lifted her off her feet, carrying her out into the open. Sierra fought back the urge to scream from being surprised, channeling fear into anger. Warm breath blasted her in the back of the head. Body heat seeped through her T-shirt, confirming she’d been grabbed by a living dude.
“Lookie what I found,” said the guy holding her.
The blue-haired woman raised an eyebrow. “I think she’s one of them.”
IT Guy clutched the body bag like a teddy bear, seeming afraid of her… or possibly not wanting to be part of hurting a kid.
Sierra grunted, forcing her arms outward. The relatively skinny man holding her gradually lost his grip as she overpowered him.
He strained, fighting to keep her arms pinned, but couldn’t hold her. “What… the… f—”
“Grr!” Sierra slipped loose, dropped to her feet, and spun, ramming her knee into his groin.
“Ay!” The man flew back a few feet before crumpling to the ground in a heap, cradling his balls and whimper-gas
ping.
IT Guy pointed the body bag at her. “Crap. She’s enthralled.”
“Look who’s talking.” Sierra narrowed her eyes at him. “Horde or Alliance?”
“For the Horde,” said the guy.
“I knew it. You’re a Tauren main, aren’t you?”
“What the hell is she babbling about?” asked the woman.
Sierra folded her arms. “Probably plays a female shaman.”
IT Guy scowled. “What’s wrong with that?”
“So much,” said Sierra. “I don’t have time to get into details.”
The woman smiled at her. “Okay, sweetie. Put down the sword and come along quietly.”
“Uhh, how about ‘no.’” Sierra pointed the blade at her. “You’re planning to kill me, and I have serious objections.”
“What makes you say something so mean, dear?” The woman batted her eyes.
Sierra pointed her left thumb back at the woods. “You set loose a pack of zombies who tried to eat me. Operative word there being tried.”
The woman bowed her head, sighing. “Fine.” She pulled a handgun out from behind her back and aimed it at Sierra. “Let’s try this again. Drop the sword and come with us.”
A twinge of fear tickled along her spine. Nothing new. The front doors at school had the same effect on her as a handgun every time she saw them. One day, the active shooter drill wouldn’t be a drill. She had plenty of experience acting brave while frightened. The moment she’d dreaded so much for years finally stood in front of her with blue hair. Some crazy person pointing a gun at her. Better here than at school with other kids around.
“You really don’t want to do that.” Sierra casually rested her sword across her shoulder. “You guys aren’t vampires, so it would mess me up in the head to kill you… or to watch you die. I’m also gonna guess you’re doing this against your will, kinda like me selling Girl Scout cookies two years ago.”
IT Guy blinked. “The vampire forced you to sell cookies? Okay… twisted.”
Sierra rolled her eyes. “No. My parents did.”
The woman sighed at the sky. “No, Dave, she’s being sarcastic. Her master didn’t force her to do anything.”
“You guys…” Sierra rolled her eyes. “I don’t have a master.”
“Stop stalling.” The woman held the gun higher. “Move.”
“Seriously, bad idea to threaten me.” Sierra shook her head.
The woman and Dave laughed.
“C’mon, kid, just drop the sword. We’re not gonna hurt you,” said Dave.
“Yeah, right.”
A low, rumbling growl came from the trees behind Sierra.
The woman glanced at Dave. “What the heck did you eat?”
“That noise didn’t come from my ass,” said Dave.
An even louder growl emanated from the forest.
“What is making that rumbling?” asked the woman.
“Ooh.” Sierra raised her left hand. “I know the answer.”
The woman stared at her.
Sierra lowered her hand. “It’s the reason you two shouldn’t hurt me. Stop pointing the gun at me right now and maybe he won’t eat you.”
The woman “Oh, the hell with this. Brat, you—”
A blurry beige smear fell out of the sky, crashed into the woman, and zagged to one side, resolving into Dalton swinging the blue-haired punk around and slamming her back against a tree, one hand on her neck, the other controlling the wrist of her gun hand.
Dave screamed.
The man on the ground continued gasping for breath, cradling his balls.
“Sorry I’m late, luv,” said Dalton. “Got a bit tangled in a messy affair, and not the cheaty kind of affair.”
Holy crap. Sierra’s heart nearly jumped out of her chest. Not having a gun pointed at her made her want to collapse in a heap of relief. She settled for exhaling hard. “No problem.”
Dalton lifted the woman up a little higher and stared into her eyes. “Hmm. Someone loyal to St. Ives sent them to… oh my.”
“Yeah, zombies,” muttered Sierra.
“Technically,” moaned the guy cradling his groin, “animated corpses. Aww, God. I think you cracked my pelvis.”
Sierra held her chin high. “Don’t grab people from behind then.”
He moaned.
She turned to look at him. Dave appeared harmless enough. Any grown man who mained a Tauren female didn’t scare her. “What’s the difference?”
“I need my pelvis,” rasped the guy.
“No, dork. I mean what’s the difference between a zombie and an animated corpse. Aren’t zombies and animated corpses the same thing? Dead people moving around due to outside forces?”
“And she calls me a nerd,” muttered Dave.
“I didn’t say I wasn’t. However, I’m not a cow shaman.”
Dalton raised an eyebrow. “I feel I’ve missed a withering insult there.”
Dave looked down, grumbling to himself. “Stupid Night Elf Hunter.”
“Oh, please.” Sierra rolled her eyes. “I have some self-respect.”
The man on the ground gasped again. “Zombies are mindless creatures that just kinda do whatever regardless of what goes on around them.”
“Oh,” said Sierra. “Warlocks… or noobs.”
The blue-haired woman gurgled, struggling to pull Dalton’s hand off her throat.
“Huh?” asked the man on the ground.
“Mindless? Like people who’ve never played Call of Duty before. Just run around blowing random crap up no matter what’s happening.”
“Uhh, whatever, kid.” He took a few rapid breaths and pushed himself up to sit. “These aren’t zombies. They’re more like remote control toys.”
“Were.” Sierra smiled. “They’re gone now.”
The woman passed out. Dalton dropped her on the ground and collected the handgun.
Dave tried to run, but took only four steps before Dalton appeared in front of him. He didn’t even have time to yelp in surprise before he went glassy-eyed and fainted.
“Aww, crap. That friend of yours is a vamp, isn’t he?” asked Ball Kick Guy.
“Yeah.” Sierra walked around the guy, who still lay curled up on the ground. “I’d say it’s pointless to try running, but I’m not sure you can right now.”
Dalton walked up beside her. “What’s going on here?”
Fear melted out of her. Between the hellhound watching over her and Dalton right next to her, she felt protected. Nothing against her parents, but neither one had the abilities of a vampire. She may or may not freak out at having a woman point a gun at her later, but for now, she kept herself under control. “Thralls, I think.”
“Hmm.” Dalton grabbed the man by the shirt and pulled him upright, gazing into his eyes. Within seconds, he groaned as if something hit him in the groin, too. “Oh, my.” He coughed. “These poor sods aren’t thralls. Merely mortals compelled to be delivery drivers. UPS is far too expensive for shipping undead minions.”
She chuckled.
Dalton dragged him the rest of the way out to the road, over to a rental van. “This man should probably visit a hospital. He’s in a great deal of pain. His figs may have burst.”
“We’re letting them go?” She peered up at him.
“Aye. They’re merely pawns.”
“They wanted to kidnap me… or worse.”
He fidgeted, which told Sierra ‘worse’ had been on the menu. “Seems Eleanor has a grudge after all. Someone programmed these three with exactly where you live and sent them bearing rather rotten gifts.”
“Great…” Sierra rolled her eyes. “Dad’s gonna freak. Guess I’m busted for being out late.”
Dalton patted her on the head, smiling. “It’s not as though you intended to be a miscreant. You are merely looking out for the best interests of your family. I am certain your parents will appreciate you hearing a disturbance in the backyard and going to check it out.”
Wow, really? She grinned. “Th
ey’re going to be upset at me for running outside instead of waking them up right away.”
He held one finger up. “Waking them up is precisely what we are about to do. One moment. Let me send these three on their way.”
Sierra nodded, then exhaled out her nose.
I’m probably gonna get grounded, but it’s better than being shot.
9
How to Avoid Being Grounded
Wolent ended up being surprisingly reasonable.
Not surprising to me, more to Amy, Luke, and Dante. Okay, maybe a little surprising to me, but not because he treated them fairly. I expected him to. I hadn’t expected to be done so fast. Fortunately, he didn’t dig into my thoughts, or if he did, he’s not revealing he caught me worrying about Stefano Bianchi’s creeps trying to take me out. Still not sure how to handle it. Talking to Aurélie could start a war. Talking to Wolent about it could start a war—and potentially bite me in the ass if it ends up being Petra’s fault.
Like, those idiots openly said Stefano wanted me dealt with permanently. Call me cynical, but it’s like something goons in a bad movie would say. Sure, Stefano is the kind of butthead who would want me to fully understand why two guys were about to feed me headfirst into a woodchipper, but something feels off about it. I could totally picture Petra sending a pair of baby vampires pretending to be Stefano’s people to rough me up, knowing they’d fail. Even she thinks I’m a whiny little kid who’d run straight to Wolent or Aurélie crying.
Yes, she is definitely petty enough to still be mad at me for ruining her ‘art’ project by saving Alex Parrish from killing himself due to her systematic ruination of his entire life. Sybarites are pathologically into their pursuits, be it art, singing, sex, whatever. Their passions can vary, but it’s generally something creative or pleasurable. Like no Sybarite ever would get passionate about checking groceries or doing hard labor. Sports maybe. I think the sex-addict Sybarites kinda bridge the gap between pleasurable activity and sports.
Guess I’ve figured out what the opposite of ‘casual sex’ is.
Vampire Innocent | Book 11 | How To Stop A Vampire War In Six Easy Steps Page 8
