Magic Graves (Kate Daniels 0.5)(41)
Author: Ilona Andrews

The woman plucked a golden necklace from the box. Shaped like an inch and a half segmented collar of pale gold, it gleamed in the feylanthern light.

I poured us more tea. "But you prevailed."

"Of course." He drank his tea. "You know, we could stay over in the city tonight."

"Why?"

"Because that way we wouldn’t have to drive for an hour back to the Keep before we could fool around."

Heh.

A scream jerked me off my feet. In the booth, the blond necromancer clawed at the necklace, gasping for breath. The man stared at her, his face a terrified mask. The woman raked her neck, gouging flesh. With a dried pop, her neck snapped, and she crashed to the floor. The man dove down, pulling at the necklace. "Amanda! Oh my god!"

Past him two pairs of red vampire eyes stared at us through the window.

Oh crap. I pulled Slayer from the sheath on my back. Sensing undead, the pale blade of the enchanted saber perspired, sending wisps of white vapor into the air.

The dull carmine glow of vampire irises flared into vivid scarlet. Shit. The restaurant just updated its menu with fresh human.

Flesh boiled on Curran’s arms. Bone grew, muscle twisted like slick ropes, skin clenched the new flesh and sprouted fur, and enormous claws slid from Curran’s newly thickened fingers.

The vampires rose off their haunches.

Curran stood up next to me.

I gripped the hilt, feeling the familiar comforting texture. Bloodsuckers reacted to sudden movement, bright lights, loud noises, anything that telegraphed prey. Whatever I did had to be fast and flashy. The blood alone wouldn’t do it, not when every table was filled with raw meat.

The window exploded in a cascade of gleaming shards. The vampires sailed through, like they had wings. The left bloodsucker landed on the table, the remnant of the chain hanging from its neck. The right skidded on the slick parquet floor and bumped into another table, scattering the chairs.

I dashed to the left, pulling Slayer as I sprinted. Curran snarled and leaped, covering half the distance to the right bloodsucker in a single powerful jump.

The vamp glared at me. I looked into its eyes.

Hunger.

Like staring into an ancient abyss. Behind the eyes, its mind burned, free of the chain. I wanted to reach out and crush it, like a bug between my fingernails. But doing that would give me away. I might as well give the People a sample of my blood with a pretty bow on it.

I flicked my wrist, making the reflection of feylanterns dance along Slayer’s surface. Look. Shiny.

The bloodsucker’s gaze locked on the blade. The vamp ducked down, like a dog before the strike, front limbs wide, yellow claws digging into the table. The wood groaned. The chain slipped along the table’s edge, clinking.

No way for a neck cut. The chain loop would block the blade.

A high pitched, female scream slashed my eardrums. The vamp hissed, jerking in the direction of the sound.

I jumped on the chair next to the table and thrust sideways and up. Slayer’s blade slid between the vamp ribs. The tip met a tight resistance and sliced through it. Hit the heart. Banzai.

The bloodsucker screeched. I let go of the saber. The vamp reared, the Slayer up to the hilt in its rib cage. The undead staggered, pitched over, and crashed to the floor, flopping like a fish on dry land.

To the left, Curran thrust his claws through the flesh under his vamp’s shin. The bloody tips of the claws emerged from the back of the bloodsucker’s neck. The vamp clawed at him. Curran thrust his monstrous hand deeper, clenched the vamp’s neck and tore its head off the body.

Showoff.

He tossed the head aside and glanced at me, checking. The whole thing took about five seconds. Felt like an eternity. We were both in one piece. I exhaled.

The restaurant fell silent, except for the hoarse hissing from the convulsing vampire as my saber liquefied its innards, absorbing the nutrients into the blade and the male necromancer sobbing on the floor.

In the far corner a man swiped his toddler from his high chair, grabbed his wife’s hand, and ran out. As one the patrons jumped. Chairs fell, feet pounded, someone gasped. They rushed out of both doors. In a blink the place was empty, save for us and the two necromancers.

I gripped Slayer and pulled. It slid from the body with ease. The edges of the wound sagged and dark brown blood spilled from the cut. I swung and beheaded the vamp with a single sharp stroke.

Curran’s arms shrank, streamlining, grey fur melting into his skin. He walked over to the male necromancer, pulled him upright, and shook him once, an expression of deep contempt on his face. I could almost hear the guy’s teeth rattle in his skull.

"Look at me. Look at me."

The necromancer stared at him, shocked eyes wide, his mouth slack.

I knelt by the female navigator and touched her wrist, keeping away from the neck and the gold band on it. No pulse. The necklace clamped her neck like a golden noose, its color a dark vivid yellow, almost orange. The skin around it was bright red and quickly turning purple.

I picked up her purse, pulled out a wallet and snapped it open. People ID. Amada Sunny, journeyman, Second Tier. Twenty years old and now dead.

Curran peered into the journeyman’s face. "What happened? What did you do?"

The man sucked in a deep breath and dissolved into tears.

Curran dropped him in disgust. His eyes were pure gold. He was pissed off out of his mind.

I went to the hostess desk and found the phone. Please work… Dial tone. Yes!

I punched in the office number. Chances were, Andrea was still there.

"Cutting Edge," Andrea’s voice said.

"I’m in Arirang. Two navigators were having dinner. The man gave the woman a gold necklace and it strangled her to death. I’m looking at two dead vampires and one human corpse."

"Sit tight. I’ll be there in thirty minutes."

I hung up and dialed the Casino.

"Kate Daniels, for Ghastek. Urgent."

"Please wait," female voice said. The phone went silent. I hummed to myself and looked at the ID. I didn’t know which of the Masters of the Dead Amanda answered to, but I knew Ghastek was the best of the seven. He was also power-hungry and he was making his bid for taking over the Atlanta’s office of the People. He was very much in the limelight at the moment and I could count on a rapid response.

A moment passed. Another.

"What is it, Kate?" Ghastek’s voice said into the phone. He must’ve been doing something, because he failed to keep exasperation from his voice. "Please keep this quick, I’m in the middle of something."

"I have one dead journeywoman, one hysterical journeyman, two dead vampires, one pissed off Beast Lord with bloody hands, and a half a dozen terrified restaurant staff." Quick enough for you?