To Dance With the Devil

Chris and the pilot came over, both carrying boxes of equipment and supplies. Emma sprayed them, and only when they had both passed inspection did she put her palm on the control pad and open the gate.

“Where do you want these?” Rob asked.

“Put them in the living room. We’ve cleared everything out to make room.”

“Right.”

True to her word, the large room was empty save for a single recliner. The curtains had been drawn on all of the windows so that it was dim. Michelle sat on the wide ledge of a stone fireplace. After greeting me, she sat quietly, watching Chris set up the equipment.

I couldn’t blame her for being afraid. A few days ago she’d been living a normal life. Now her mother had been murdered and she was being hunted by a mage who wanted her dead. And it looked like her only option was to put her life in the hands of people she’d only just met and attempt what sure sounded like a harebrained scheme with no guarantee of success.

In the last few days she’d been shot, had surgery, had run for her life twice, and been part of a gun battle. All that would have been hard on me, and I was used to violence. How difficult must it have been for her? I walked over to her. “Hey, Michelle, how you holding up?”

“Truthfully? Not so hot. Kevin’s acting strange. He keeps pacing and looking out the windows. He hardly talks to anyone. Emma’s worried, but she won’t say why, and it doesn’t feel like she’s worried about me.” She took a breath. “And I’m scared. What if the transfusion doesn’t work? I mean, you’re just guessing.”

“It’s the day of the full moon. Kevin is feeling a little restless.” In fact, he’d gone outside the minute we’d come in, preferring to keep a little distance between himself and so many people. “And Michelle, you need to trust me. I am not going to let you die. I’ll do everything in my power, whatever it takes, to see to it that you make it to tomorrow. Do you believe me?”

Her answer was a barely audible whisper. “Yes.”

“I can’t promise that this will work. I think it will; I think it’s our best bet. But if it doesn’t, we’ll do something else.” Right then, I didn’t know what that something else would be, but I knew I wouldn’t give up. I did not want her to die, not just because her death would help Connor Finn, but for her own sake. She seemed like a good kid. She deserved the chance to have a full, happy life.

Chris said, “We’re ready, and we should probably get started right away. The rapid infusion device was destroyed in the fire yesterday and I couldn’t get a replacement. So it’ll take longer than planned to get everything done well before sunset.”

I turned to Michelle, who had gone pale. She began to shake her head no, over and over.

“Michelle, you need to do this.”

She didn’t answer, just kept shaking her head. Chris, Emma, and Rob were all looking at me like: fix this. But I didn’t know what else to say, how to convince her to go through with it. I wondered if Chris had brought sedatives; I wondered how he’d feel about transfusing an unconscious person against her will.

Just then the temperature in the room started to drop. A cold breeze ruffled my hair and my breath misted the air.

“Mama?” Michelle’s voice held awe and wonder. “It’s you, isn’t it?”

The sound of scratching on the frame of the picture above the fireplace mantel drew our attention. There, written in frost, was a single word. Yes.

“I miss you so much. I’m so scared.” Michelle was crying, her words almost childlike in their desperation and simplicity.

You have to do this. You MUST. The words appeared slowly, but they were unmistakable.

Michelle stood. Swallowing hard, she turned to me. “Will you hold my hand?”

It was a bad idea. I’m part vampire, and there was about to be a lot of blood in the immediate area. I should be as far away from the whole process as possible. But she was so scared and desperate that I found myself nodding mute assent. I heard Chris tell Rob to turn up the blood warmer.

Michelle was still strapped to the machine when the attack came, a wave of heat that hit like a wrecking ball, driving me to my knees. Michelle shrieked as her hair burst into flame and burns began crawling up her arms. Reacting almost inhumanly fast, Chris yanked out the needle and tubing that were draining her blood, flinging the apparatus away from him as it burst into blue-white flames, the plastic melting to stinking black liquid before our eyes. He clamped down, holding pressure to the wound even as Michelle’s skin began to blister and blacken beneath his hands.

“Do something!” he screamed at me. “You have to do something or she’s going to die!”

He was right.

We needed to change her biology to make her unrecognizable to the curse, and the blood transfusion wasn’t enough. My thoughts spun: what changed people? Demon possession … vampire attacks … shape-shifter bites …

“Kevin!” I shouted, spinning to discover that he was already in the room, probably because of all the screaming. “You have to bite her. It’s her only chance.”

“Are you insane?” He growled at me; his teeth were already elongating. He was so close to the change, holding it at bay by sheer force of will.

“You have to. She’s going to die if you don’t.”

He looked past me at Michelle. I could see what he saw—blackened, crisping skin, swathes of destruction that grew as the stench of cooking flesh filled the room.

“Everyone get out of here,” Kevin ordered, “now!”

Rob didn’t need to be told twice. He vanished. But Emma had to grab Chris by the arm and drag him away.

“Go,” Kevin said firmly, in a voice that was barely human.

I so wanted to run. But first I had to ask, “Will you be able to control her?”

He threw back his head and howled, his eyes bleeding to red as golden fur poured out of every pore. I heard his bones breaking over the sound of Michelle’s screams. As he dropped to all fours, I drew my knives and began backing out of the room. I was at the door when he bit her and at the gate when her howls joined his.

I made it through barely in time, slamming the heavy bars in a pair of furry faces—one golden, one black as night—as they snarled and snapped, long claws slashing at me through the gaps in the bars.

I backed away, saddened and horrified. Michelle was alive, but at what cost? Would she return to human form, to humanity, when the full moon passed? What had I done?

Behind me, I heard the helicopter engine starting. Combined with the howls of the werewolves, it was almost loud enough to drown out the sound of Bubba’s desperate voice in my ear. “Boss, the veil is down. We can see them. It’s bad. Tell Mona I love her.”

31

The larger wolf, a golden male the size of a small horse, drew back from the gate, while the female continued to try to reach me through the bars. The male’s eyes met mine and, I swear to God, he smiled, showing lots of vicious teeth. He gave a sharp bark; she immediately turned her shaggy black head to him and there was a moment of communion. Then she trotted after him, and a moment later the two of them bolted toward the north end of the property, where the cabin was built into the berm.

Oh, shit.

I ran. “Get this thing off the ground!” I shrieked as I dived through the chopper’s open door.

The panic in my voice had the desired effect. Rob pulled on the controls and the chopper slowly started to rise from the ground—too slowly to suit me. In my ear, Talia was shouting that they were facing a force of approximately two hundred, probably half of them spawn. Through the still open door I watched the wolves race up the north wall of the house and leap, first to the top of the wall, then in an amazing, flowing motion, down to the ground. They were beautiful—and utterly terrifying.

Chris was swearing and straining against the door, which had jammed open. I scrambled to my feet and drew my knives. Not my guns—I didn’t want to kill either Kevin or Michelle unless I absolutely had to. But I wasn’t going to let us be turned into dog chow either.

The helicopter was probably thirty feet in the air when the wolves reached us. Michelle circled under us, howling her rage and frustration. Kevin didn’t even slow. Instead, he poured on the speed and hurled himself upward in a mighty leap that actually brought his front paws onto the skid. He was struggling to pull the bulk of his body up when I stepped to the opening. I met his gaze. This time I was the one who smiled. Showing my knives and flashing fang, I formed thoughts and projected them individually and distinctly, directly into his mind: I. Don’t. Think. So.

He let go, landing with a thud and a yelp of pain. As we flew off, I saw him rise and shake himself before the wolves ran off to together to find other, easier prey.

I slid my knives back into their sheaths and waddled to the front of the chopper, leaning into the pilot’s area “Take us to the Needle,” I ordered.

“Are you nuts?” Rob answered. “That’s a no-fly zone.”

“My people are under attack. I need to be there yesterday.”

Rob turned to look at Chris, who was shoving past me to take the copilot’s seat. “Boss?”

Chris met my gaze. He got a strange look on his face, and I noticed that the charm he’d worn earlier was nowhere in sight. “Do it.”

Had I influenced him? Maybe. Maybe not. If I had, it wasn’t deliberate. “If you say so.” Rob sounded doubtful, but he turned the chopper and hit the throttle hard enough that I had to grab a handhold to keep my balance. I don’t know how fast we were going, but the scenery was a blur, and the engines were running loud. Rob shook his head and hit a yellow button on the console. Suddenly there was utter silence. I could hear our harsh breathing and the rapid beating of four pulses.

I looked at Chris, a silent question in my eyes.

“Stealth mode,” he answered, looking more like himself. “They won’t see or hear us. It’s damned dangerous—we’re risking a midair collision—but nobody else is supposed to be flying around there and we don’t want to get shot at. 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">