Witch Gone Viral

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Witch Gone Viral Page 35

by Sami Valentine


  “This is touching.” Murmuring sardonically, Kristoff leaned between them, lifting the barrel of his gun toward the east. “We have a laboratory to destroy.”

  Red glanced at Sal. “Are you in? We could use a guide.”

  “I can’t duck out of this hunt, Red. Not after what I’ve done.” Sal nodded, squaring his jaw. “I didn’t see the machine, but I saw Alzbeta Czernin.”

  “Good enough.” Kristoff handed Sal the gun.

  Looking between the shotgun and the master vampire, Sal adjusted his grip on the weapon. “Follow me then.” He jogged ahead, faster than a human but slow from blood loss by vampire standards.

  Red tilted her head, confused why Kristoff would give his gun up, then her world tilted as he scooped her up into his arms. She bit back a rabbit-like squeak.

  “We need to catch up with the others,” he explained calmly, then took off at a sprint. The background blurred around them.

  Bouncing in his arms, she glowered at him, resenting her tight grip on his shoulder to stay steady on their jaunt through the desert.

  Darting through cacti and dead grasses, he finally stopped near a tumbleweed patch and set her on her feet.

  Red pushed away, flashing a glare at him before focusing on Sal.

  Sal handed Kristoff his gun, then pointed to a thatch of giant rusty colored tumbleweeds. A single booted leg stuck out from the bushes.

  Falling into step beside Kristoff, she walked around the brambles. She peeped through the thorns at the fallen burrower, neck twisted at an angle. Her mouth dried, skin prickling.

  The tumbleweeds hid a dug-out tunnel opening too. Wide enough for a van to drive through, battered salvaged beams braced the ceiling. Finger marks lined the concrete walls as if it had been hand spread. The material crumbled at the corners. The rest of their crew stood guard at the double doors at the end. Mismatched, one looked like it had been stolen from a nice suburban home, and the other looked like it had been salvaged from the dump.

  She trotted toward the group at angle, trying to get a head count. They were missing a minion.

  “Took you long enough.” Donal sniffed.

  “I found a guide.” Kristoff pushed Sal ahead.

  “I’m working with you people.” Sal held his arms up. “Willingly, so ease off.”

  “We’ve secured the hall.” Nedda jerked her thumb toward a smaller door. “Five guards down.”

  “Dozens to go.” Delilah stalked through cracked open door, her shotgun raised, braid swishing behind her.

  Broadsword draped on his back, Donal followed with Nedda and the minions on his heels.

  Covering her back, Kristoff scanned the horizon as he gestured for Red to go.

  Red stepped into the tunnel. A beam of moonlight escaped inside, but the darkness was impenetrable after a few yards. She opened her third eye to look for magical defenses as her regular ones adjusted. Wisps of glowing ether, psychological residue, and mystical energy hugged the walls, defining the hallway and brightening the gloom. She hadn’t imagined using her spirit gaze for this, but it was better than night vision goggles. Neon tinted in her third eye, handprints pocked the concrete tunnel. Her sneakers trotted over the hard-packed sand.

  A rancid odor grew stronger in the hall, like sulfur and ammonia. The scent pricked something in the back of her memory, but Red couldn’t shake it loose. It smelled like they were racing toward hell’s brimstone. The currents of energy and auras were chaotic and spiky. The tunnels weren’t the only unstable things under the desert sands.

  She had memorized the rough radar blueprints along with the rest on the plane ride. This hallway split in a few yards. The through-the-wall sensors had detected equipment to the left. She glanced around at the master vampires leading the pack. Their profiles held an edge of steel.

  Kristoff shifted closer to her, his midnight purple aura mingling with hers. His feet moved soundlessly, guarding the rear.

  Red tried to keep her breath quiet as they turned left into a more fortified tunnel. Crates lined the walls. Dodging litter on the ground, she hoped her Kevlar vest muffled her heartbeat. The earthy air felt stagnant and hungry, like it was trying to mummify her alive. She kept her spirit gaze wide open. The darkness had grown absolute. She tried to count steps to calm her anxiety. It was a hundred steps until Sal turned the group left, then right.

  Glimmering a poison green, an aura skittered on the ceiling above them. It sprang at the smallest one in the group.

  Red pulled out a vial of holy water and flicked off the top. She tossed the vial at the wallcrawling vampire as it dropped onto Nedda’s back.

  Hissing, the vampire clutched its face.

  Nedda tossed her attacker off and slammed the butt of her gun into its chin.

  Delilah grabbed the wallcrawler by the hair and twisted its neck. She tossed it behind a crate.

  The action was so brutal and short, Red hadn’t even caught her breath before the group moved on. She trotted after them, glancing behind her where Kristoff covered her back.

  A strange energy brightened the darkness. The waves of neon ether flashed like electric currents, zigzagging in bursts along the wall before disappearing through the cracks in a doorway. The sparks lit up the threshold of the doorway as they wiggled through. She pointed to the doorway as Sal did.

  Kristoff bolted forward, purple aura streaked with a silver charge, and pressed his back against the wall.

  Red fell back beside him, breath catching.

  The doorknob squeaked as it turned. Blinding light poured out.

  Chapter Twenty-Eight

  January 28th, After Midnight, The Secret Burrow, California

  Eyes tearing up from the change in light, Red squinted them shut. She kept her spirit gaze focused. The artificial light didn’t dim the pulsating energy currents channeling into the opening doorway. Hugging tight to the wall, she held her breath and stared at Kristoff’s face in profile.

  He nodded to Donal on the other side of the threshold. Their crew waited for the door to open farther.

  Sniffing, a burrower stuck his head out, headphones around his neck. His jaw dropped at the sight of the black-clad squad.

  Kristoff slammed the butt of his gun into the other vampire’s temple and shoved his way into the door.

  Delilah pushed past Donal to charge into the room.

  Nedda elbowed the swordsman to follow her sire. “Alzbeta! She’s here.”

  Gesturing for the rest, Donal shook his head as he drew his sword and rushed into the light.

  “Stay back, girl,” Sal muttered to her as he dipped into the chamber. He dropped his remaining fang out and charged the burrowers. “Remember me, tweakers?”

  The sounds of fighting erupted immediately.

  Red came in behind the minions, kicking the door closed to keep the brawl from echoing through the tunnels. Eight defenders stood their ground in front of occupied gurneys covered with white cloth. She pulled out two vials of holy water from her kit. Skirting along the edges of the fray, she dodged two minions rolling on the ground in a whirl of fists.

  Nedda fought like a berserker to get to through the line with Kristoff and Delilah at her sides.

  Sal slammed a metal stool on the back of a burly bearded minion with red-rimmed eyes.

  Red focused on her job, keeping one eye on the vampires. Her spirit gaze scanned the room for the machine. She imagined that it looked like Patrice’s final painting—a pillar of twisted magic and metal. Even if it could fit into her pocket, its magical signature would give it away.

  The long chamber was lined with makeshift work counters piled with scrap wire and crystals. Skeletons of salvaged computers and electrical equipment leaned in a corner. A wide slab circled with metal rebar rose inches from the concrete floor. Thick cables dangled above it. Silver duct tape fixed tubing to the ceiling, passing through a bare hole in the wall. Energy zipped along the tubes. Magic hung in the room, but none of the curious experiments on the tables or supplies glimmered with unusual p
ower. This was part of their laboratory, but where was their A Bomb?

  She reached out with her magic senses. It wasn’t here, but something powerful was close by. A chill rose up her spine.

  Fingers brushed her ponytail.

  She spun around, flicking the tops off the vials, and tossed holy water into a snarling vampire’s face.

  The holy water burned his flesh. He flinched but kept moving for her. His head twitched to the side. Lunging, he hissed through blistered lips.

  Dropping the empty vials, she twisted to pull a silver cross from her hunter’s kit to press against his cheek.

  Hobbling, he spun to the side, slipping on the glass bottles.

  Red kicked the back of his knee with a grunt.

  The vampire tumbled onto the slab, falling headfirst against the rusty rebar jutting up from the concrete.

  She glanced away, cringing at the thud of the metal impaling the vampire through the skull. He hadn’t met the final death, but he wasn’t getting up anytime soon. She didn’t know if they were still trying to lie low with the no staking rule. That was the trouble with plans, it all could change on the front line. Keeping one eye on the others, Red rummaged through the leather hunter’s kit strapped to her thigh. She was running low on holy water. Prone bodies lay between her and the others.

  The last two defending burrowers, malnourished-looking in dingy wifebeaters and saggy jeans, kept a cowering olive-skinned vampire in a lab coat between them.

  “My name is George Patil, an engineer, not a terrorist! I am not here willingly! They grabbed me after a Buffalo Bills game.” The engineer pleaded behind cracked glasses. “Don’t hurt me too.”

  Red’s ears pricked up at the name. That was the kidnapped engineer Vic had told her about. She darted forward between the fallen vampires.

  “Shut it!” His defender kicked him in the side.

  Delilah yanked the burrower back by the arm, snapping its neck brutally with the other arm. Her blond braid fluttered behind her as she dropped into a front flip. Her foot caught the last guard in the chin. She jumped to land on his shoulders. Her legs wrapped around his head. She twisted them in a mid-air spin to crash to the ground. The sound of cracking vertebrate ripped through the air. Delilah rose to her feet to face the recoiling engineer. “Where the fuck is my husband?”

  “I don’t know... what…?” George glanced around, brows knitting together.

  Donal and Kristoff followed behind Delilah, gesturing to their four remaining minions.

  Red ran to the shaking engineer. “Don’t kill him yet. The machine isn’t here.”

  Delilah raised her clenched fist before dropping it and stomping away. She huffed as she leaned against the wall. Her eyes drifted over the eight burrowers fallen in grotesque states of incapacitation. Her fingers twitched as if she was forcing herself not to stake them where they lay with twisted necks.

  Nedda picked up a drooping, unresponsive Alzbeta, pale in a hospital gown, from the gurney and stroked her short dark hair. Reddish tears dripped from her eyes.

  “We got what we came for,” Donal growled as he pointed to the bodies on the gurney. “Get them up.”

  “The Genesis Machine is being readied!” George waved his hands. “I’ll help you destroy it. I designed a faulty exhaust port in that death star.”

  “Listen to him.” Sal put his hands up, stepping between the kneeling vampire and the others. “George still has a soul. He’s not lying.”

  “How do we destroy it?” Red asked, helping George to his feet. She ignored the looks from her crew.

  “I’ll tell you on the move. These guys are hopped up on speed and twitchy in this hole. They had to have heard us.” George pointed to an open, crudely crafted tunnel doorway. The shelf covering it had fallen in the fight. “We can get the comatose out that way. Then you can come back for the machine.” He mopped his brow with his stained white sleeve.

  Nedda pushed past George with Alzbeta in her arms. “If there is an ambush at the end of this tunnel, I’ll eat your face.”

  George gulped and shook his head. “It’s not!”

  Red pulled George back from the others.

  “I only smell dry rot down there.” Donal shook his head. He nudged a minion forward. “Grab a stiff.” He raised his broadsword and stalked first into the darkened secret hall.

  The minions gathered up the other unconscious vampires in hospital gowns to follow him.

  Sal grabbed two and hoisted them over his bulky shoulders.

  Stepping beside the thin trembling engineer, Red wondered who his guinea pigs were. One was a wizened Asian man, another a statuesque Scandinavian blonde. They must have all been powerful souled vampires like Alzbeta—too valuable and strong to keep awake. “Keep talking.”

  “I designed the signal amplifier to do more than they think. If you can get to the arena…” George clutched his side and drew back a reddened hand. He exhaled sharply. “It’s the biggest chamber in the burrow.”

  Red was trying to remember the rough radar blueprint when she noticed Nedda had paused before leaving with the other vampires.

  Nedda shared a small smile with Kristoff, then gazed down at Alzbeta. “We got her back.”

  Delilah stalked forward. “I’ll guard your flank. Get her out of here and stay gone until your Prince comes.”

  Nedda raised her eyebrow. “What about Quinn?”

  “I’ll find him. Go.” Delilah jerked her head toward the door and raised her gun as if already jonesing for another assault. In her dark cargo pants and armored vest, there was little of the glamorous model agency owner in her grim demeanor.

  Bobbing her head, Nedda tightened her hold on Alzbeta.

  A cascade of sparkles in an excited aura exploded in the corner of Red’s third eye. The light outlined the point of a gun behind a door on the other side of the room. Red dropped to the floor. Palms scraping on the rough floor, she froze. Her throat tightened.

  The door burst open. A burrower leaned in with a shotgun, firing over his fallen brethren.

  George Patil exploded to dust above her as a wooden-tipped bullet tunneled through his heart to ricochet off the wall behind them.

  “Go!” Delilah shoved Nedda into the hidden tunnel and returned fire.

  Kristoff dove under the rain of bullets to pull Red back. He ripped a wide metal cabinet away from the wall for a barrier. Scrap parts tumbled off with a clatter.

  Red ducked behind it. She pulled out her revolver and cocked it.

  “Get out of here, Red!” Kristoff said, crouching beside her as bullet pinged off the cabinet.

  “This job isn’t done! I came for the Genesis Machine.” Red popped up to shoot at a burrower sneaking along the wall. The blast rang in her ears.

  He decayed to a fresh corpse.

  Four others streamed through the open door.

  “And I came for Quinn.” Delilah sprayed fighters with blasts before pulling out the old ammo magazine and jamming another back into her semiautomatic gun. “I’m sure they’ll be together.”

  Kristoff sighed and jumped up to point his gun at the door. “Then we’re shooting our way there.” He fired at peeping head in the doorway.

  “Sounds dandy.” Delilah laughed.

  “Yeah, right.” Red pressed herself against the cabinet, wishing she had been in line for the big guns. Her chest tightened. She forced herself to breathe deep and think. Her knees shook as she crouched. “If we take a right in that hallway with all the spun-out shooters, it leads straight to the arena.”

  Kristoff ducked down as the crackle of a machine gun echoed in the room.

  Ear drums in agony, Red scooted toward the concrete threshold of the secret tunnel that the others had disappeared down. Heart leaping into her throat, she dashed to the stronger cover. The burrowers had upgraded from shotguns. The blasts shook the nearby wall on impact.

  Delilah crouched beside Kristoff. Her arms bled from bullet grazes. Dark blood glittered from a hole in her thigh.

  Bur
rowers burst through the door.

  Firing from behind the cabinet, Delilah and Kristoff mowed down the attackers.

  They kept coming.

  Red pulled the trigger, aiming for the heads and hearts of the walking dead, until her revolver clicked empty. She leaned back against the wall, grabbing wooden tipped bullets from her hunter’s kit and reloading quickly. Her fingers burned on the hot metal.

  The next round of bullets went by quicker than the first. Sweat beaded on her brow. Their enemies had more cannon fodder to lose.

  Five more jumped through the door with guns raised. Dilated pupils nearly blocked out the predatory yellow gleam in their irises. “Kill ‘em all!”

  Kristoff looked back at her. “Run!”

  Red peeped from her cover in the roughly carved escape tunnel. She pulled the trigger on a burrower leaping forward, hitting him in the thigh. “I’m not leaving you.”

  Kristoff gritted his teeth, finishing the attacker off with a wooden-tipped bullet to the chest. He turned her to her. His demonic yellow eyes were round with fear. He sighed the word between his fangs. “Please. Juniper died to save me, you shouldn’t.”

  “Fight with me then!” Red raised her revolver, knees shaking, and heart in her throat.

  Gunfire echoed in the hallway behind the burrowers. They stilled their charge before falling back into the hallway they’d come in from. One yelled, confused, “It’s us, fuckers!”

  “Is this the plan?” Shrugging at his comrade, another walked past the open hallway door, waving an angry hand. “What the hell, it’s the—” He dropped from a bullet between the eyes.

  Delilah and Kristoff fired on the startled attackers who didn’t seem to know where to run from the gunfire now behind them in the lab and in the hallway.

  Red held her breath. Was this Cora and her souled vampires? Had they come early? She reloaded in case it was just tweakers accidentally shooting each other before sobering up.

  The hallway fell silent.

  Red glanced at Kristoff who had stood, uncertainty on his face as he lowered his weapon.

 

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