Darkling

"What's wrong?" I hurried over to them. Both looked woozy, and Chase, especially, looked like he was about to puke. I led him to a chair as Delilah rushed over and knelt beside him. Camille hurried behind the counter to get a little sparkling water and ice for him to sip.

As he tried to gather his composure, tasting the water with tiny sips, Sharah looked up at us, her expression pained. "The vampires have struck again…"

"Damn it, I was afraid of that. Wait," I said, "are you talking about the original ones or—"

"Or the four newbies?" She flinched. "We don't know; it could be either. For all we know, the newborns could have joined up with their sires. Whatever the case, we've got three new bodies in the morgue and I'm afraid they're going to rise. How long do we have?"

I glanced at the clock. "Depends on when they were killed. Depends on how they were killed, and how much blood from their sires they drank. Come on," I tossed the rag on the counter. "Chrysandra, finish cleaning up. Lock the door after we leave and call Togo to come walk you to your car. If he bitches, tell him I'll rip out his throat if he doesn't haul his lazy ass over here. I'm not kidding." Unlike Tavah, Chrysandra was no vampire and she was all too vulnerable. She nodded, keeping her eyes on the counter.

Camille, Delilah, Roz, and I followed Chase and Sharah out to the street. Chase had brought an SUV.

"Get in, we don't have time for everybody to find their respective cars." The fact that he didn't even ask who Roz was told me how upset he must be. Chase was all about caution.

We packed into the back seats and Sharah rode shotgun. As we headed toward the hospital, I prayed that they were wrong, that it was just some everyday nut job who'd decided to go Freddy Krueger on his victims. The last thing we needed was a growing nest of bloodthirsty vampires in the city. News like that couldn't be kept quiet for long.

As Chase flipped a switch and the siren began to scream, I looked over at Roz. He stared back at me, a look so deadly on his face that I only prayed I'd find Dredge first. Because from his expression, it was clear that Roz wasn't about to take prisoners. And I wanted first crack at my sire.

CHAPTER 6

A cold wind was moaning in off the harbor, rattling the windows of the car as the lights of the city passed in a blur on our way to the FH-CSI morgue. The skyscrapers lined the horizon like a string of diamonds. I-5 was empty at this time of night, and I glanced at an overpass as we sped by. We were in a race against time, but how much we had, I didn't know. I'd never sired another vampire, nor did I plan on doing so. But now I wished I'd talked to the older vamps around town about the process. Knowledge, even dark knowledge, is better than ignorance.

"Chase, were the bodies found together like the other four? That might indicate they were killed by the same vampire—or group of vamps—who killed our missing newbies. The last thing we need is a bunch of bloodsuckers scattered around the city, randomly attacking people."

He let out a sigh. "Yeah, but they weren't anywhere near the Delmonico Cinema. We found this trio over in the Green Lake district. In Green Lake park, actually."

Delilah gasped and I elbowed her quickly but gently, giving her a warning shake of the head. Sassy Branson lived in the Green Lake area. Could she be involved in this? We'd attended her Christmas party the month before.

Sassy was a socialite whose friends still thought she was alive. She pulled off the reclusive eccentric with elegant panache, and had done her best to keep her death secret. She lived in fear of being outted. With impeccable manners, she was the last vampire in the world I'd expect to take a savage turn. But the predatory instinct eventually took over most vamps. Was it possible that we weren't facing down Dredge after all? Had something shifted in Sassy's nature? No, I refused to believe it. But she might know something about the murders.

I kept my mouth shut as we burst through the doors and hurried down the stairs, past the magical sensors to the morgue. The OIA techs were standing sentinel, guarding the bodies. The reek of formaldehyde and disinfectant permeated the corridor, and both Camille and Delilah looked ready to puke, but the smell just floated on by me as I turned my attention to the room.

We could have been in a bus station, for all the lockers that covered the walls. Or a school. But behind the doors of those gray metal compartments lay the remains of carnage and time. Tables lined with instruments filled the room. Scalpels. Scissors. Saws. Bright lights hung from the ceiling, tools to destroy illusions, to invade and explore and discover. Jars filled with odd shapes floating in them rested in rows on a shelf.

Look close, look away. At the end of the day, I thought, this is all that remains. I tried to wrench my gaze away, but the circus of colors and shapes fascinated me.

In the center of the room stood six long tables, and on three of those tables were bodies covered with sheets so pristine, so white they were spun sugar on snow. Brilliant, unnatural. Where were the stains? No laundry in the world could erase the scars of blood that tattoo the dead.

Chase motioned me over. "It might be better if the others stand back, just in case something happens."

"Just in case the victims rise, you mean."

He nodded and leaned close to me. "If that happens, do you think you can handle them? I've never fought a vampire and I'm not sure how to go about it. And neither have the techs here." With a glance at the others, he added, "I don't want to see Camille or Delilah get hurt… or anybody else."

He made a good point. And the truth was, I wasn't sure I could take on all three before they got past me to the others. When they rose—if they did—they'd be ravenous, looking for the nearest jugulars to satisfy their thirst. And they'd drain their victims dry, and the next, and the next. On the way home, after I rose, I'd left a trail of carnage that I could still see if I closed my eyes and let myself remember. By the time I reached our house, I'd managed to quench my thirst enough to lock myself in my room and yell for Camille to get help. And then, it was all black, for months. A black abyss, a void in my memory that I'd never, ever remember. Memories I didn't want to reclaim.

I thought for a moment, then turned to the others. "Get out. Roz, you stay. You're an incubus, you'll be able to help me. But the rest of you—Chase, that includes you—get out and bar the door until I tell you it's okay. And peek through the windows to make sure it's me giving you the A-OK and not somebody trying to mimic my voice."

Camille and Delilah started to protest but when I shook my head, they herded everybody else out of the room. I turned to Roz. "You ready? If they rise, chances are their sires are from the Elwing Clan, as much as I don't want to believe it. I expect you to follow my instructions if you're working with me. You aren't in this game alone. Got it?"

He gave me a lazy smile. "Got stakes?"

I blinked, realizing that I didn't exactly walk around carrying wooden pointy things. "Uh…"

"No? I thought so." He stood back and unbuttoned his duster.

I had a sudden giggle fit when he grabbed the lapels and opened the coat, reminding me of some two-bit sleazy flasher from the wrong side of the tracks, but my giggles were cut short when I saw the arsenal attached to the inner lining. Wooden stakes, daggers, a nasty looking semiautomatic, a blowgun, shooting stars, a pair of nunchakus, and I'm not sure what else dangled from their respective loops. This bounty hunter meant business all right, and it was obvious he'd spent considerable time Earthside.

He smiled at my reaction. "Catch." He pulled out a couple of stakes and tossed them to me, square end first. I caught them, cautiously giving them the once over. A simple stake, and yet it could dust me for good. Of course, it could kill a human, too, if properly aimed with enough force, but to my eyes, the toothpick on steroids had that whole mystique thing going on and I couldn't help but feel like I was holding a time bomb.

"Thanks, I think." I glanced up as he pulled out a pair for himself. "I guess we'd better see what we're up against." I edged forward to the first body and yanked the sheet off, jumping back out of reach.

The man on the slab was a big one. Tall, with bushy gray hair, his chest a barrel. His abs covered with a layer of fat but definitely steel belted—it would be hard to take him down in a fight. And from a peek under the covers, it was obvious that he'd probably made some woman very happy. He could have been a mountain man, an old hippy, a retired football player gone ZZ Top. But whatever he'd been, he would never again walk in the daylight. His face was frozen in horrified terror, caught by the folds of his wrinkles.

"What's that around his mouth?" Roz pointed to something that had dried to the skin, maroon and splattered.

I leaned close, sniffing. "Blood." I pried open the man's lips. Blood had dried on his teeth, too, and as I watched, thin, needle-sharp teeth were descending out of his gums to cover his incisors. I let go and jumped back. "He's turning. I don't know when he'll wake, but it won't be long."

Roz and I quickly examined the other two—a young Japanese woman who could have been a model, she was so pretty, and a nondescript young man probably in his late twenties. Both were on their way to signing up for my side of the street. I looked at Roz, hesitating. I'd never staked one of my own. While I didn't have any qualms about it, somehow it seemed unfair to kill them because of what they were, before they'd had a chance to do anything.

"You know when they rise, they'll go on a rampage without their sires here to guide them through the transformation." He tapped the stainless steel slab. "We have to do it."

He was right, but it still seemed one more step toward a life from which my sisters and I would never be able to return. We were quickly sliding into territory in which lived only the most hardened agents from the OIA. The shadows were unrelenting when asked to give up those who walked their paths.

A thought struck me. "What if they head back to their sire? Shouldn't we follow one? They might lead us to Dredge and the Elwing Clan."

Roz frowned. "That means letting one of them go free to wreak havoc. Are you willing to sacrifice innocent lives to these monsters? If you are, then by all means, I'll stand back and let one of them go, but it's on your head."

Damn it, I didn't want the choice. I weighed the benefits. If the vamp made its way back to Dredge, we'd be able to track it and bingo, have one up on the Elwing Blood Clan. But what if it didn't go back to Dredge? What if, instead, the new vamp just went on a murderous drinking spree and left a trail of bodies in its wake? Could I sacrifice innocents on hope alone?

I didn't have to ask Camille and Delilah, I already knew what their answers would be. I sucked in a deep breath and walked over to the mountain man. "I guess we'd better stake them before they wake up."

As I stared at the naked man, I knew precisely what he'd be thinking. Images of his death would run through his mind, along with the realization that he was forever trapped inside his all-too-dead body. And then, the thirst would hit, and the rage. And when those took over, everything else went out the window.

The burly corpse suddenly sat up, his gaze darting around the room.

"Holy crap!" I jumped back as he took a swipe at me, thanking my reflexes. A newborn's hunger pangs hurt so badly that they empowered the fresh vamp with phenomenal strength.

Within a fraction of a second, he was off the table, eyes burning bloody crimson, and he was headed right for me. As I crouched in position, the sheet on the second table fluttered and the young Japanese woman sat up. Roz raised one of the stakes and cautiously moved in, the hem of his duster fluttering against his long legs.

"Be careful, Roz! She's small but deadly." My shout startled Mr. Meaty. The big man jerked his head around, staring at Roz, as confusion rippled across his face.

And then, it was all about the fight.

I hoisted one of the stakes in my left hand while sliding the other through my belt, point to the side so I wouldn't suffer a nasty accident if I fell. Then I waggled my fingers, beckoning him in. "Bring it on, boy. Come and get me."

With his massive head of frizzy hair cascading around his shoulders, the naked behemoth lurched toward me, eyes aflame. He sniffed the air and paused.

"That's right, you can't smell a pulse. It's because I'm one of your own kind." As I muttered an oath, he lunged. I swiped with the stake, missing by inches, and suddenly we were entwined in a grappling match. He clapped his hands against the sides of my shoulders and shoved, slamming me to the floor. I arched my back and vaulted to my feet, landing with ease. Thanks to my training, my acrobatic skills had blossomed after death. I was twice as quick as most vamps. My adversary glanced at the doors leading out of the morgue. If he could get to them before me, he could escape to hunt.

"You want to feed? You have to get through me first," I said, jumping between the newborn and the doors.

As I waited for him to bring it on, a glance showed me Roz was in the midst of a life or death struggle. The young woman—strike that, newborn vamp—was straining to reach his neck. She could kill him, but Roz's demonic nature was a big plus. It would give him an edge that might just keep him alive.

The third vamp hadn't risen yet, but we didn't have much time. I turned my attention back to the burly man, who was angling, trying to get past me. I feinted to the left, letting him think I'd taken too wide of a step. As he charged the door, I whirled, stake in hand, to meet him chest level. The wooden point plunged deep, impaling him with muscle-rending impact.

He turned to me, holding out his arms, a pleading look on his face. He was an animal at this moment, a frightened and hungry creature. The pain and confusion in his eyes made my gut ache. Been there, done that. Didn't like being reminded of it. And then, he was dust, bursting into a cloud of smoke and powder. The stake fell to the ground.