To Catch a Vampire (21 page)

Will positions himself above Serena. Without a moment’s hesitation, he brings Bette down on her neck. When the machete makes contact, her eyes jerk open and her mouth forms into a scream, though no sound comes out. Blood pools in the coffin. Serena’s black eyes and mouth close. That’s it. She’s dead. May God have mercy on her soul.

A scream fills the quiet room. Agent Chandler runs down the stairs with Agent Rushmore staying up top, gun aimed at us. Everyone freezes. The lids of all five coffins fly open, barely giving us enough time to jump away. Oh, crap.

As fast as lightning, so they’re nothing but blurs, all five vamps leap out of their coffins. I blink and they’re lying down, and the next thing I know a naked Rick has me by the neck, flinging me across the room. I’m airborne, weightless, until I land against the wall, knocking all the marrow from my bones. I’m dazed. Every inch of me aches. The gunshots and shouting echoing through the room seem distant. Things are blurry until I blink a few times.

Agent Chandler pulls the trigger on his shotgun, face contorted in fury. A huge hole of blood and gristle blooms from Ken’s chest. He crumbles to the floor. Two down. The smell of gunpowder is overwhelming.

At the same moment, Irie aims her gun at Liang, to no avail. She bops around the room so fast Irie can’t get a chance to pull the trigger. Will swings at Gerry with Bette but keeps missing. Julie grabs onto Agent Chandler as he re-cocks the shotgun. Agent Rushmore tries to pull her off, wrapping the barrel of the shotgun across her throat. I have no idea where JR is.

Rick appears before me, snarling. The clouds in my brain part. Instinct makes me reach for the shotgun, but I lost it on the trip into the wall; it’s too far away. Rick yanks me off the floor by my vest, teeth bared. I kick him square in his exposed hairy nuts. Works every time. He releases me as he doubles over. Not missing a beat, I use my power to drag the shotgun into my hands. Aim and fire. His head explodes into a thousand tiny pieces all over me. Something cuts my cheek. I think it’s part of his skull. I wipe the blood and brain covering my face with my forearm. “That’s for Kate.”

“No!” someone screams at the top of their lungs. “You bitch!”

With vamp speed, Julie charges toward me. There isn’t enough time to expel the empty cartridge before she’s on top of me. Her weight throws me off balance, and we collapse to the ground. She claws and squirms on top of me, lunging at my neck with those sharp fangs. One quick bite to the carotid artery, and I’m done for. “You bitch! You bitch!” she repeats between bites. She mauls again, but I head butt her nose with my forehead. She falls off me, but I’m phased too. My head thumps with its own pulse, and the blurs return.

Julie recovers before me, standing up and pouncing again as blood dribbles out of her nostrils. I can’t think fast enough to do anything. I can’t even sit up. She makes it one step but can’t take another. Her body moves, but not her head. Will stands behind her clutching onto her blonde hair. With one fell swoop he slices across her neck with Bette. Her tiny body crumbles to the floor, but her head remains in Will’s fist. Blood drips out of the stump onto his boots. He tosses her head down with disgust. I just stare at it.

Will helps me up, and I take the hand that just held a severed head. Eww. He yanks me up, eyes quickly giving me the once over. “Are you okay?” he asks as his eyes stop at my cut cheek. He cups my chin as his thumb wipes off the blood from the cut. I shiver with lust.
My hero.
If it wasn’t for the howl of pain on the other side of the room, I’d kiss him right beside the severed head.

We look as Liang sinks her teeth into Agent Rushmore’s forearm, ripping a huge piece of meat off as he bellows. Will passes Bette to me while simultaneously pulling out his Glock and aiming. He squeezes the trigger, hitting her in the chest. She releases him. Agent Rushmore falls to the ground clutching his bloody arm. Will pulls the trigger again, but Liang vanishes from the spot. The bullet ricochets on the wall. “Chandler, get him out of here!” Will shouts. Agent Chandler grabs Rushmore, and they run up the stairs. Wish I could. Liang reappears near Irie. Irie doesn’t notice. She’s too busy training her gun on Gerry. Good thing I’m here.

The moment Liang materializes, I grip her body with my mind. She struggles as I lift and toss her through the boarded-up window with all my strength. The wood snaps and glass breaks as she floats like a brick outside. Sun streams into the basement, blinding us all. Gerry hisses and jumps to the other side of the room. Outside Liang shrieks in agony from her impromptu sunbathing session. The odor of burnt flesh wafts in. The screams stop a second later. All eyes and guns point at Gerry. We win.

“What are you waiting for?” he asks.

“How many people have you killed here?” Will asks.

“I’m not telling you shit,” he spits back.

Will pulls the trigger, hitting Gerry in the leg. The vamp howls in pain. “Easy or hard. Your choice.”

Gerry clutches his leg, groaning either from the bullet or the utter contempt showing all over his face. “Eight. Nine. I don’t remember. They’re out in the field.”

“And where’s JR?” I ask.

The air shifts from quick movement.

No more grimace. Smile instead. Crap. “Here.”

Before he utters that word, a creaking emanates from beneath the stairs. Will checked there—I saw him. On instinct, we turn our heads as a blur of solid matter races toward us at the same moment Gerry does. There’s only time for Will to knock me into the sunshine before the blur reaches me. Bette clatters beside me. JR grabs Will’s gun arm as my butt hits concrete. With a crack, Will’s arm twists at a ninety degree angle. The veins in his neck and forehead pop, but he doesn’t cry out. With his good arm, he cold cocks the vamp. JR releases him. That’s when Irie screams.

Gerry is lying on top of her. It takes me a moment to realize he’s not kissing her neck but biting. “No!” I shout. Gerry raises his blood-caked face and smiles, blood dripping from pointed fangs. Irie’s body convulses under him. The already stifling room becomes ten degrees hotter. JR roundhouse kicks Will in the face, and he falls into Irie’s pooling blood. JR uses this opportunity to grab the nearby shotgun, cocking it.

He doesn’t keep it for long. The gun soars out of his hands into my lap. With one swift movement, I swing the gun and fire. JR’s head vaporizes. I cock it again. Gerry, impervious to everything but the blood he laps up, doesn’t notice when his friend dies. He doesn’t even notice as I aim at the window near him, shooting it out. The moment the light hits his face, his skin boils and blisters. Yowling, he jumps off Irie. I shoot again, severing his leg at the knee. The hulk collapses near me. Will rushes to Irie’s side as I cock again. No more bullets. I pick up my girl Bette and pull myself off the floor. Gerry cries blood tears. Half his face is nothing but burns and soot. I raise Bette and put him out of his misery. “Told you I’d get you.”

“Bea! Help me!” Will says.

I whip my head toward him. Will kneels beside Irie, his good hand pressed against her wound. I rush over. “Oh, God,” I say, falling to my knees on her other side.

“Put pressure on it,” Will groans.

We switch places. Damn, it’s really hot in here. Easily over a hundred just around her. He slips his fingers out of the gaps in her neck, and I put mine in—without gagging, to my credit. Blood runs like a creek out of the holes. Irie blinks rapidly and writhes in pain. She tries to say something, but just sputters out blood. I swear it’s getting hotter in here by the second.

Will stands, pressing on his earpiece. “We need a medic! Now!”

Irie violently shakes her head, and I almost lose my grip. She attempts speech again, but I only understand the word
out
. Sweat drips off me everywhere.

“Will!” I shout. “She’s trying to say something!”

He bends down. “What?”

“Can’t,” Irie sputters. She takes a deep breath. “Hold … on.”

“No!” I cry. Tears join the sweat on my face.

“Go!” she manages, grimacing in pain. “Hurry!”

“Okay,” Will says quietly.

“No!”

Irie convulses, and a huge gust of hot air blasts me onto my butt. What the …? Will hooks his fingers in the armpits of my vest and yanks me up from the floor. “Run!”

Taking my hand in his, our sticky fingers entwining, he yanks me toward the stairs. We step over bodies and make it halfway up before another burst of hot air explodes in the room. I almost fall against Will when it hits. He pushes me in front of him and I run up, taking the stairs two at a time. Another blast, this time hotter than boiling water, erupts from the basement. The stairs ignite, fire crackling behind me. It chases us out of the house.

“Run!” Will shouts as we race out the front door.

Montoya and Agent Chandler take a few steps toward us, confusion all over their faces. Then they stop, as they must also feel all the air being sucked into the house. Will and I keep sprinting away from the crappy farmhouse until a loud boom pounds my brain out on my forehead. Everyone is flattened to the ground as the house explodes. Scalding hot air and flames envelop everything. I can’t even scream. The world burns.

A huge weight covers my entire body, forcing my face into the dirt. I close my eyes and don’t breathe. The onslaught is over as soon as it started. The heat, the ear-shattering noise—it all evaporates. There’s peace for a few moments. Then there isn’t. I hear the sound of large objects falling to the ground now. Metal, wood, glass all rain from the sky. I twist my head to the side but see nothing but flesh. Wait. The weight breathes. And it smells like sweat and blood. Oh.

I lie facedown under Will, barely able to inhale or exhale for a few more seconds, until the torrent of house debris stops. After a few moments of calm, his body lifts off mine, moving beside me instead. I flip onto my back, panting in the still roasting air. All that remains of the house is burning wood and foundation. There’s nothing but scorched earth as far as the eye can see. Pieces of furniture and plaster smolder on the ground. Will lies on his stomach panting as quickly as I am. His back is nothing but blisters and burnt skin. I meet his tear-filled eyes with mine. We say nothing. I just take his hand in mine before closing my dry eyes.

_____

Agents Rushmore, Wolfe, and I were rushed to the hospital before the fires burned out. Nobody said anything the whole ride. Wolfe just stared off into space, lost in his disbelieving grief. I felt every inch of his pain, thanks to my abilities. It’s a miracle I didn’t start crying. Shock, I guess.

After I was checked out by a doctor, they let me take a shower. The police took my clothes as evidence, but there was a woman officer about my size who gave me a spare pair of sweats. I got off lucky. No stitches for the cut on my cheek, nothing broken, only first-degree burns on my legs and arms. It stung when I showered, but I dealt. It was almost nice to feel the physical pain instead of the numbness inside my gut.

Now, I sit on a gurney off to the side, watching the doctors’ and nurses’ feet go by. Some of the policemen from the scene meandered around, occasionally glancing at me, no doubt itching to ask me the details. A house blew up. People are dead. More are buried in the backyard. It’s only natural they’re curious, but I couldn’t handle their gazes. I closed the curtain. I’m just waiting for the doctor to pop by with my discharge papers, then I’m so out of here.

I don’t know where Will or anyone else is. I’ve been here about three hours and haven’t seen a familiar face. Agents Wolfe and Rushmore were whisked away by medical personnel when we arrived, and none of my other teammates have stopped by. I guess I’ll have to hitch a ride with the police back to mobile command. Not that I’m in a hurry. By now, Nancy’s been told about Irie. Poor girl. I don’t know how she’s going to get through this. They were like sisters. Bickering, snooty at times, but close as all get out. She’ll be inconsolable. Wolfe too. Me, I’m numb. It hasn’t hit yet. No more trips to the nail salon to pamper ourselves. No more midnight margaritas. My chest tightens. Maybe I’m not that numb.

Footsteps stop in front of the curtain. The doctor’s I hope. The person pulls the curtain back. Will stands there, now in a brown sheriff’s department T-shirt and black slacks. His arm is wrapped in a cast, but otherwise he seems fine. Wish I had super healing.

He shuts the curtain, but before he closes it all the way, I jump off the gurney and rush into his chest. He winces but wraps his arms around me after only a moment’s hesitation.

“Thank God you’re okay,” I whisper. “Thank God.”

I don’t want to let go. Never. Ever. He’s so warm and … solid. I needed this. I’ve wanted this since this whole fiasco began. This comfort. This closeness. With him. I’ve missed him so much.

He pulls me in tighter, putting his cheek on top of my head. “I’m okay. It’s okay.” I move my arm a little, and he winces again.

His back.
I hurt him. Again. I let go, but he clings for a moment, clutching onto my shirt. “Are you okay?” I ask.

“I’m healing. I’ll be fine.” He releases me. “I’ll be back to normal in a few days.”

“You didn’t have to do that for me,” I say.

“Better me than you.” His eyes dart to my cheek. “Have they released you yet?”

“I’m just waiting for the paperwork. Then I can go and … has anyone told Nancy yet?”

“Oliver’s with her now.”

“That’s good. He’ll know what to say. We should get to her soon, though. She’ll need us too.”

Will gazes down at the floor. “You should go. I’ll … just make things worse, I think.”

I don’t need to be an empath to tell he’s in turmoil. His beautiful eyes are clouded with pain. It physically hurts me. “Hey. What is it?” I ask.

He scowls. “Nothing.”

“Hey,” I say, touching his arm. “What? You can tell me anything, you know that.” I take his hand again. “Talk to me. Please.”

Those stunning eyes look into mine, and the mask falls. “This is my fault,” he whispers desperately. “I got her killed. I should have checked under the stairs more carefully. I didn’t secure the room. If—”