Hourglass (Page 5)
Eduardo turned to her. “No way are we running from this, Kate.”
“You like fighting more than you like staying alive,” Kate said, never meeting his eyes. “But I try to think like Patton. I don’t run this group so everyone can die for the cause. I run it so the vampires have to die for theirs.”
The shapes in the brush all rustled as one, moving closer. Lucas tensed, and I realized he could see them in the dark as well as I could. Ever since I’d first drunk his blood, he’d developed the first stirrings of vampiric power. That meant he knew what I knew: We didn’t have much time. Minutes, maybe.
“Raquel, come on,” Lucas said, but she stubbornly remained by Dana’s side, shaking her head.
“This isn’t safe,” I tried. “Please, Raquel, you could be killed.”
Her voice trembled as she answered, but she said only, “I’m done with running.”
Dana set aside the crossbow she’d been loading and faced Raquel. Her entire body seemed to vibrate with energy. She had been the one to spot the vampires, the one who had known about the danger longest—and she was already in battle mode. Yet she spoke gently to Raquel. “Packing up our stuff isn’t running. Okay? It’s something we need to do, because we’re going to have to get out of here, either after the fight or during it.”
“Not if we win,” Raquel began, but stopped when she saw Dana’s expression.
“They know our location now,” Lucas said. “More vampires will come. We’ve got to run. Help us get ready to run. That’s the best thing you can do right now.”
Raquel never looked away from Dana as her face shifted from determination to resignation. “Next time,” she said. “Next time I’ll know how to fight.”
“We’ll be in this together next time,” Dana agreed. Her gaze shifted to the brush and the pursuers. Nobody needed vampire senses to know how close they were now. “Get your butt out of here.”
I grabbed Raquel’s hand and pulled her back into the warehouse. After a few days being confined here, always with dozens of people around, I felt weird seeing it almost empty. The blankets were disheveled, and some of the cots had been tipped over in the rush. Still in shock, I started folding a blanket.
“Screw the blankets.” Lucas headed toward the weapons lockers. Almost everything had been taken by the hunters, but there were still a few stakes, arrows, and canisters of holy water.
“We get the ammo ready. The rest we can replace.”
“Of course.” I should have thought of that. But how could I? My brain was stuck, like when the needle of Dad’s record player caught in the scratches of his old jazz records: Are my parents outside? Is Balthazar? Will Black Cross kill people that I care about, people who are probably only trying to rescue me?
Outside I heard a shout—then a scream.
All three of us froze. The noise swelled outside from a few cries to a roar, and the metal wall of the warehouse thudded. It wasn’t a body—a rock, maybe, or a misfired arrow—but Raquel and I jumped.
Lucas shook it off fastest. “Pack this stuff up. When they call for us, we’re gonna have about two minutes to get our gear into the vans. That’s it.”
We got to work. It was difficult to concentrate. The cacophony outside frightened me, not only because of my fear for the others but also because it reminded me powerfully of the last Black Cross battle I’d witnessed: the burning of Evernight. My back still ached from the fall I’d taken while running across the flaming roof, and I imagined I could still taste smoke and ash. Before, I’d been able to comfort myself by thinking that it was all over—but it wasn’t. As long as Lucas and I were stuck with Black Cross, the battles would always follow us. Danger would always be near.
With every shout, every thud, Lucas seemed to get more worked up. He wasn’t used to staying out of fights; he was more likely to start them.
Trunk shut, locked, moving on. Do they want to take the wood that hasn’t been carved into stakes yet? Surely not—they can get wood anywhere, right? I kept trying to figure it out, working as fast as I could. Next to me, Raquel was simply grabbing armfuls of junk and dumping it into boxes without even checking to see what it was. She probably had the right idea.
Something slammed hard into the metal wall again, and I gasped. Lucas didn’t tell me it was going to be all right; instead, he grabbed a stake.
At that moment, two sprawling figures burst through one of the side doors. Even my vampire senses couldn’t tell me which was my own kind and which was the Black Cross hunter, because they were too tangled together—a blur of motion, sweat, and snarled curses. They staggered toward us, oblivious to our presence, only to their life-and-death struggle. The half-open door behind them showed a sliver of light, and let the screams come through even louder.
“Do something,” Raquel whispered. “Lucas, you know what to do, right?”
Lucas leaped forward, farther and faster than a mere human should’ve been able to, and swung his stake into the fray. Instantly one of the figures froze; the stake had paralyzed the vampire. I looked at his still face—green eyes, fair hair, features frozen in horror—and felt a flash of sympathy for him in the instant before the Black Cross hunter slid a long, broad blade from his belt and severed his opponent’s head with a single stroke. The vampire shuddered once, then crumbled to oily dust upon the floor.
The vampire had been an old one, then; there was very little left of the mortal man he’d been. As the others stood there, looking down at the remains, I could only wonder if this had been one of my parents’ friends. I hadn’t recognized him, but whoever he’d been, he’d come here in the belief he was helping me.