Ambushed (16 page)

"No,
your refusal to let her go just means that you're no different than
the others I've killed already tonight."

The
screwdriver dropped to the concrete; the gun was back, grinding
against the side of my head in time to Pete's heartbeat.

"Sure,
you can kill me, but I'll take her with me before I go."

"How
many bullets do you have in that gun, bloodsucker?"

Taggart's
voice was coming from the other direction now. Somehow he'd crossed
in front of us without either of us being able to see him. I wouldn't
have thought it was possible. My eyes were merely human, but I would
have thought that Pete would be able to see even when it was this
dark.

"Enough."

"Are
you sure? It would be a shame to waste one of them on the girl and
then realize that you needed one more to finish me off."

Taggart's
breathing had been silent for nearly a minute, but now it returned, a
deep, rasping sound that gave away his position.

Pete
spun around and fired off three shots to our right. Two of them
ricocheted away, but the third hit something softer than that. My
heart climbed up into my throat as the breathing stopped, but it
started back up a couple of seconds later from a different position.

The
gun left my temple again and three more shots rang out. This time the
gun wasn't as far away from my face and the ringing in my ears got
even worse. I was looking the right direction this time and caught a
flash of movement in the muzzle flash.

Taggart
staggered as at least one of the bullets struck home and I realized
that I couldn't afford to keep waiting. I spun to the right, bringing
my right elbow up so that it was traveling towards Pete's throat as
my left hand grabbed hold of his wrist in an attempt to control the
gun.

My
elbow struck home and it was like hitting a wooden door. There was
some give there, but not as much as there should have been. Pete
gagged, but he didn't go down and I could feel that the gun was still
tracking towards Taggart.

The
breathing had changed, there was a slow hiss to it like one of
Taggart's lungs had been punctured, and he seemed to be struggling to
hold his breath. I threw all of my weight against Pete's arm and
jostled it just enough that his next three shots ricocheted off of
the concrete walls.

"Duck,
Adriana."

I
let my knees buckle and gravity pulled me down, but it almost wasn't
fast enough. Taggart's claws passed over my head, close enough that I
felt the wind of their passage before they tore out Pete's throat.

It
all happened so fast that it felt like the attack came out of
nowhere, but Pete got one final round off, directly into the center
of the dark form that had just saved my life yet again.

Adriana Paige
Marauder's Gas Station
Central Wyoming

My ears were ringing so badly that for a couple of seconds I couldn't
tell whether Taggart was still breathing. Some of the lights
flickered back on; they weren't much, but it was just enough for me
to make it over to Taggart. His chest was moving ever so slightly up
and down.

I
was dizzy and my entire body was shaking, but I forced myself back to
my feet and found the red button that Pete had used to close the
exterior door. I prayed that the power was still working enough to
lift the heavy concrete slab and punched the button. The reassuring
rumble that worked its way up through the soles of my feet a second
later calmed some of my terror, but it was going to take more than
just some dim sunlight to save Taggart.

A
few seconds later I was back at Taggart's Honda and grabbing the
battery-powered lantern and first-aid kit that he kept packed in the
trunk of his car. When I made it back to Taggart I almost wished that
I hadn't been able to find the lantern.

Taggart
was bleeding from three different bullet holes. I couldn't remember
for sure, but I'd only counted two impacts. Either my hearing had
been too far gone by that point or one of the ricochets had hit him
after skidding off of the wall.

There
was another nick in his right ear that must have been the work of
another bullet, and he had a variety of what looked like knife and
stab wounds all over his arms and torso, but that wasn't the worst of
it. Taggart was naked just like after every shift back to human form,
but most of his skin had been burned away by Paulo's fire.

By
every rule of human physiology I knew, Taggart should already be
dead, but then again he wasn't really human. He just happened to look
like one right now. I knelt motionless at his side, for several
seconds as I tried to decide where even to start and then nearly
jumped out of my own skin when Taggart's eyes snapped open and he
grabbed my arm.

"Get
the bleeding stopped. Don't worry about the bullets or any internal
damage, you don't have the tools or the skills to do anything about
them. Do that and then go back up to the store and get me food and
water. It will have to be enough."

I
shook my head, tears streaming down my dirty, soot-stained cheeks.
"You're burned, you lost seventy or eighty percent of the skin
on your entire body. You're going to have massive infections; I need
to get you to a hospital. This isn't like last time—I'm
scared."

Taggart
coughed and my hearing was back enough that I could hear the air
wheezing out of the bullet hole that had taken him in the lung.

"The
skin will regrow and infections aren't as big of a problem for my
kind. No hospital; it would be like sending Kaleb and the rest a
postcard with my name and address on it. Have faith, Adri. I'll pull
through."

I
was shaking as I popped open the first-aid kit and started pulling
out gauze, rubbing alcohol and butterfly bandages. Maybe he wasn't
worried about infection, but I figured it couldn't hurt to try and
disinfect as much as I could. I talked as I worked, not because I
expected any kind of answer out of him, but because I needed a
distraction from all of the blood and raw flesh.

"I
think that's the first time that you've called me Adri. You always
use my full name."

Taggart's
smile was a pale shadow of his normal expression, but at least he was
still with me enough to make an effort.

"I
guess I figured that after saving your life for a second time I'd
earned a bit more familiarity. I can go back to your full name if
you'd like."

"No,
it's fine. You're right, you've earned the privilege of calling me
whatever you'd like."

Taggart's
eyes started to flutter closed and I desperately searched for
something else to say as I taped a square of gauze over the lung
wound.

"How
did you beat the pyromancer? Pete was convinced that nobody could
beat Paulo. I thought for sure you were dead."

Taggart
winced as my fingers pushed a little too hard. "I nearly didn't
beat him. The first attack caught me by surprise and the corridors
are so tight that I wasn't able to dodge very well. Once I knew what
I was up against though it was mostly a matter of just staying out of
his sight while I picked off the rest of his guys."

"I
could tell that was what you were doing, but how did you beat him
once all of his guys were gone?"

"I
lured him back towards the two of you and then I threw a barrel of
oil at him. I could smell it all the way back from the tunnel that
led into the bunker from the store. Once he was coated in oil and it
was on the walls and floor around him, then he didn't dare use his
ability anymore. Once it was down to just him and me, steel against
claws, the fight was over pretty quickly."

I
shook my head in amazement. "I never would have thought of
that."

"You
might be surprised at what you can come up with when the alternative
is being burned alive. Besides, you didn't do all that bad yourself.
You managed to stab your captor with a screwdriver and you got an
elbow in to his throat."

"It
wasn't enough, without you I still would have been dead."

Taggart
closed his eyes. "You're welcome, Adri."

I
reached up and touched his ear, the one that had the bullet crease in
it. "You almost died."

"I
still might, but yes, that one was too close for comfort."

I
wiped my cheeks against my right arm and then poured some rubbing
alcohol into the biggest slash across his chest.

"You
could have easily killed whoever they had in the shop and then made a
run for it. Why did you come down here? For all you knew there were a
dozen vampires as powerful as Paulo waiting to kill you as soon as
you stuck your head into the bunker."

"I
came down here because you didn't stand a chance on your own. The
vampires would have drained you and had your corpse buried before
sunrise. You needed my help. I'm an old man and you're still young. I
might have another thirty years left in me, but you've got your whole
life waiting for you."

I
shook my head, splashing tears everywhere. "But the resistance
needs you. Agony needs you. I'm worse than useless. I don't even know
enough about the Coun'hij to feel comfortable killing them let alone
enough to actually fight them effectively."

Taggart
gripped my arm with a strength that was surprising considering just
how much blood he'd lost.

"Agony
would understand. We've done what we could, but our generation has
failed. The future lies in your generation's hands. You'll find your
way, Adri. I trust your judgment; you'll make mistakes along the way
just like I did, but you're too good to remain in error for very
long."

I
taped a square of gauze over the last bullet hole and then started on
the smaller wounds, the stuff that normally wouldn't have been worth
worrying about, but which were more of a concern given how low his
blood pressure must be.

"Thank
you, Taggart, and not just for saving my life. It means a lot that
you trust me. I'm going to reach out to Alec Graves via my dreams. I
know you think he's dirty, but he's the only other person I know who
can confirm what you've told me about the Coun'hij. I have to know."

"I
knew it was only a matter of time. You were as timid as a dormouse
for the first three or four days we were together, but even back then
you almost couldn't bring yourself to back down when it came to
Kaleb's boy."

Taggart
went silent for so long that I almost thought he'd passed out, but
after nearly a minute he nodded. "Do what you think you need to
do. Find me some blankets so the concrete isn't sucking all of the
heat out of me and then go up to the convenience store and lock up. We
can use this place later so it's important to keep the cover intact
for as long as possible."

Adriana Paige
Marauder's Gas Station
Central Wyoming

The next few days were a blur of activity and boredom intermixed with
moments of extreme terror and a near-constant worry about Taggart. I
did as he asked even though walking through the blackened, bloody
concrete corridors was one of the most terrifying things I'd ever had
to do.

Intellectually
I knew that Taggart would have warned me if anyone else had survived
the fighting, but that wasn't as reassuring in the near darkness as I
stepped over corpses and pools of blood.

It
took me twenty minutes to explore the bunker from one end to the
other. I found a large bunk area with four or five beds in it after
only a couple of minutes, but I forced myself to explore the entire
complex before going back and grabbing the bedding off of two of the
bunks. I was worried about leaving Taggart alone on the cold concrete
for so long, but I needed to see for myself that the bunker was
empty.

The
underground fortress was an odd mixture of Spartan utilitarianism and
ridiculous luxury. There was a big kitchen and dining hall that
looked like it was designed to feed twenty or twenty-five people at a
time, and then off in Paulo's section of the bunker there was a small
kitchen obviously designed for a personal chef.

The
main armory ran heavily towards swords, axes and knives, but it did
also have half a dozen handguns and twice that many rifles and
shotguns in assorted shapes and sizes. I grabbed a small pistol,
loaded it up and then stuffed it down the waistband of my pants.
Paulo's personal armory had only a few weapons, all of which were
exquisite-looking swords that were as slender and light as they were
beautiful, but it also had a huge store of gold. Either Paulo had
brought a lot of wealth with him across from Italy or robbing
travelers was a lot more lucrative than I would have expected.

That
theme was repeated over and over again as I worked my way through the
dimly lit corridors. Paulo's men lived with only the basics in an
almost military setup while Paulo himself had most of the creature
comforts one could desire.

The
one exception to that rule was an enormous area full of weights,
machines and a tumbling mat that was large enough to do Olympic floor
routines on. Apparently Paulo didn't think it a good idea to skimp on
the tools his men needed to stay in fighting trim. Not that it had
done them much good. I'd known that Taggart was deadly, and he'd had
the element of surprise on his side, but it still boggled the mind
that he'd been able to kill so many people so quickly.

There
wasn't any kind of swimming pool, but most everything else I could
think of was present and accounted for. There was even a sizable
firing range, which was a surprise after seeing how few projectile
weapons were inside the armory.

By
the time I'd looked into every room and opened all of the closets I
was starting to feel safe enough that I felt a little silly carrying
the gun, but I didn't return it to the armory.