To Dance With the Devil

The first shot rang out—not from the rifleman ahead but from an unseen shooter somewhere behind. It was a miss, but a second shot, fired from the bigger weapon a few yards away, thunked heavily into the engine compartment of the SUV.

“We’re sitting ducks.” Bubba fired his big old .44 cannon at something behind me. My eyes were all for the rifleman. He was biding his time, waiting for the perfect shot. That wasn’t going to be easy with all the swirling smoke. My eyes were streaming and everyone was having periodic coughing fits.

“All right. I’m going to create a diversion. Give me a five count, then here’s what we’re going to do. Kevin, you take Michelle, Emma, and Paulie down to the water’s edge. If you have to, you can jump into the lake to escape the fire. See if you can make your way back to Fred’s by sticking to the edge of the lake; I saw an aluminum canoe at the dock there. Take Michelle out onto the center of the lake and wait for my signal. She’ll be safe from the fire there and it’s too far for a clear shot.” I reached down, took my backup Derringer from its ankle holster, and handed it to Emma. If things went really bad, it wouldn’t help much, but it was better than nothing and Emma was a steady shot. “Bubba and Talia, you take out the shooters behind us. Try not to get killed. I don’t want Mona pissed at me.”

Bubba gave a short bark of laughter.

“All right, people. Good luck.” I took a deep breath, checked my weapon, and dashed away from the SUV, running straight for the enemy in front of me. In that moment, I did something I rarely wanted to do: I embraced my inner monster. I called to it, pulled on the always-simmering bloodlust to give me everything it had: strength, speed, vampire hearing and vision, the works. I tore across the pavement toward the semi, the scenery blurring around me as I gave a primal yell that flashed fangs.

I didn’t get a good look at the shooter until I was almost upon him. I’ll give him this, Jack Finn was no coward. I could hear his pulse speed up, but he still tried to take aim at me. He didn’t stand a chance; I was moving way too fast. I leapt over the hood of the vehicle, screaming in rage and grabbing for him, but I had too much momentum. I overshot my target and landed on the pavement a few feet away. I spun around in an instant.

I expected him to fight, but he surprised me. Dropping the rifle, Jack rolled completely under the truck and out the other side. Scrambling to his feet, he ran straight for the edge of the dam, hurdled the railing, and dived in. The spell he’d used to control the flames died before he hit the water, the fire flickering and guttering quickly out.

The human ran so slowly that I had plenty of time to raise the gun in my hand and aim at him. Then I stopped.

Spare the pawn.

I didn’t want to spare him. I didn’t want to spare anyone. I wanted blood, and I wanted it now. I heard the splash as he hit the water, out of my reach, watched as he swam toward the dock with its little aluminum canoe.

He was gone.

But there were others close at hand.

I turned. With my vampire vision I could clearly see the humans a few yards away, despite the swirling remains of smoke and ash, despite the thin metal shell that enclosed some of them. As one, they stared at me.

I stared back, holding my body perfectly still as I tried to remember why I should not feed on them. There was a reason. I knew there was. But I was so hungry I couldn’t think of it.

They were so warm, so alive. I was so cold. Hunger cramped my belly.

Still, I held my ground and tried to think like a human. I had a name. What was my name?

“Celia?” One of them said, without moving. It was smart of the large human to stand still. But it was oh so frustrating. If he just came closer I could feed, ease the pain, the hunger, and the cold.

My hands tightened into fists, nails digging deep into my palms until they drew blood. I was Celia—Celia Graves. The large human was Bubba, my friend. He was not food. None of them were.

The glow of my skin faded. I was Celia. I would not feed on humans. Not now. Not ever. But I still did not trust myself to let them close. Turning my back on them, I walked away.

* * *

I sat on the edge of the dock, my bare feet underwater, kicking in an uneven rhythm. I stared out at the moon reflected on the nearly still water of the lake, taking deep breaths—in through my nose, out through my mouth. The lapping sound of the water combined with the acrid smell of smoke competing with the heavy scents of algae and fish drowned out other sounds and other scents, but I still knew when Kevin drew near.

“You okay?” he asked.

“No.” What else could I say?

I’d managed to beat back my beast, but it had been a hard fight. And I hadn’t been thrilled when the very people I was trying to avoid followed me off the bridge and down to Fred’s neighbor’s place.

Kevin dropped two small plastic bottles onto my lap. “Emma bummed a couple of nutrition shakes from the lady who owns the house. I brought them with me.”

“I take it you drew the short straw?” It sounded more bitter than I’d intended.

“I volunteered. I figured I knew best of all of us what you were going through.” He squatted down beside me.

“You know what it’s like to see your friends and only be able to think of them as big, warm juice boxes?”

He grinned, showing lots of sharp teeth. “Steak tartare.”

I laughed so hard there were tears in my eyes. Cracking open the first bottle, I took a big slug: strawberry, a little too sweet and a little too cold. But I knew that in a few minutes it would help take the edge off.

He was grinning when he sank down onto the dock beside me. “Mona’s on the way with the minivan. She’s bringing food. She’ll take us wherever we’re headed, but she can’t stay. She needs to get back to the boat. Her brother agreed to babysit, but I understand he wasn’t happy about it. I’m hoping to talk Em into going back with her. Or maybe she can ride with you and Dawna.

“Dawna’s coming?”

“Yeah. I figured you’d need someone nice and harmless looking to deal with the authorities, and a ride home after.”

Damn, he was good at this. “Thanks.”

“No problem.”

“We should probably talk about something else,” I suggested. “Distract me.”

“What would you like to discuss?”

“How’s the client holding up?”

“She’s a little shell-shocked, but she’s hanging in there. Paulie’s staying close to her.”

“Good.” The last thing we needed was for her to flip out. Not that I’d blame her if she did. As a normal person, she would never have had to deal with this kind of crap. I was actually used to shit storms, and this one was bad even by my standards. “Did Talia and Bubba get their guys?”

“Nah. When your guy bailed, the other ones set off some spell disks. By the time Bubba and Talia got through, all the bad guys were gone. Why didn’t you shoot your target?”

“That was Jack Finn. A clairvoyant told me to spare the pawn, and a ghost told me Jack was the pawn.”

“Well, shit. Doesn’t that just suck.”

I couldn’t argue with that sentiment, so I didn’t even try. After a minute or two of quiet sipping, I asked, “How are you on magical theory?”

“I was raised by my father,” he answered drily. “I picked up a bit.”

“Good.” I ignored his sarcasm. “I’m going to bounce ideas off you. But this is all hypothetical and confidential as hell. You didn’t hear anything. I didn’t say anything. Got it?”

“Got it.”

“I think”—I looked over at him as I finished off the first bottle—“that I’ve been an idiot.”

He raised an eyebrow at that but didn’t answer. That was probably a wise choice. We’re friends, but I was his boss now.

“It takes four mages to do the spell to control a node, right?”

“Yes,” he agreed, “one for each compass point. And the power of a full moon.”

I nodded. “And a mage has to die by magic to activate it.”

He blinked, apparently surprised that I knew that. I guess it’s not common knowledge among the unwashed masses. “Yes.”

“Does it have to be one of the four who are stationed at the compass points?” Isaac had said my idea was good, but he was also a champion liar. If he thought that I might interfere with the plan in order to save one of my friends, he’d lie to me to keep me out of the way and not feel guilty about it in the least. So I asked Kevin, knowing that he’d give me the truth, no matter how unpleasant. It’s just how he was.

“No. In fact, it’s better if it isn’t. If one of the four dies, the whole thing gets thrown off balance, and the other three have to work harder to keep things stable.”

Cool. That was what I’d hoped, and it was very good news for our side. But then the thing that had been bothering me all along, the thing I hadn’t been able to pinpoint, finally reared its ugly head. “Michelle isn’t a mage.”

“No,” Kevin answered.

I cursed briefly under my breath. This was a big problem that I couldn’t see a solution for. I kept talking, trying to work it out. “Since she’s not a mage, killing Michelle isn’t going to do Finn and his buddies any good at all as far as the node is concerned.”

“Whoa … Connor Finn is trying to get control of a node?” Kevin’s eyes widened. “Oh, fuck. That is bad. That is so bad.” Kevin didn’t say it was impossible or doubt my sanity. That was a really refreshing change.

“Yeah. Tell me about it. He and his buddies are going after the node beneath the Needle.”

Kevin shook his head. “Not doable so long as the prison’s up and running. The magical protections around it would put up too much interference.”

I opened the second bottle, chocolate mint. Not bad at all. I was starting to feel better, more in control. And chocolate after strawberry put me in mind of Neapolitan ice cream—one of my favorites. So I didn’t sound the least bit irritable or panicked when I said, “More than half the protections around the prison are already gone. Creede, Bruno, Matty, and Isabella DeLuca are headed out there to bring them back up.” ns class="adsbygoogle" style="display:block" data-ad-client="ca-pub-7451196230453695" data-ad-slot="9930101810" data-ad-format="auto" data-full-width-responsive="true">