Black Heart: Wild On (20 page)

            Shock, surprise, and pain stopped him. He just froze, wide-eyed. I didn't hesitate. I seized a handful of hair on the back of his head, and his chin...and snapped his neck.

            "Anyone else want to mess with me?" I cried.

            No answer. The vamp groined miserably at my feet as I reached down, grabbed his collar, and jumped straight up. He was almost too heavy for me to carry, but I managed to get him up and over the surrounding buildings. I found an open dumpster, and dropped him into it from fifty feet up. Well, I tried to dump him into the dumpster. I missed by two feet.

            "Ouch, bet that hurt," I said, cringing.

            By the time I returned to the intersection of Main and Malcolm X, my father was leading the mob away. The Deep Ellum crowd watched them leave with sullen eyes. I noted some of them glanced at me worriedly a few times. Good.

"You really think making them leave will save them?" Valerie St. Clair said.

            She was the local Vampire Anti-defamation League president and a raging fang whore, and stood just ten feet away. For once she wasn't dressed all kinked out, instead wearing a golden silk evening gown and a small fortune in jewelry. Jeff Howell stood beside her, glaring daggers at me.

            "Ah, the Prince of Darkness and his whore," I said. Valerie's face turned the most charming shade of humiliated I'd ever seen. "Shouldn't you be off spanking her or something?"

            "I'd rather twist your head off and shit down your throat," Jeff said.

            "That's the thanks I get for stopping a full scale riot? A riot the vampire community would find more inconvenient than the mortals, I might add," I said. "No publicity is good for the undead."

            "Still, we cannot allow them to get away with that," Valerie said. "It'll make us look weak and vulnerable."

            "That's a load of bull. They weren't a threat to any vampire," I said. "That mob was totally impotent. All they could do was march and shout threats. First off, they were outnumbered. Secondly, they are law abiding citizens by nature, just very frightened and outraged citizens. And we all know that the worst thing that would've happened was they would get arrested for marching without a permit or for disturbing the peace."

            "Ha! That would've been funny," Valerie said. "It would serve them right, too."

            I narrowed sapphire eyes on her. Fear erupted within her. She actually cringed away. Yeah, I was surprised.

            "You're the last person alive who can speak to me of right and wrong," I said.

            She clutched at Jeff's arm. He stepped forward, and I dropped into a fighting stance. Jeff gave every impression he wanted to rip me to pieces, but there was a crowd. Most vampires, especially the older ones, had an aversion to fighting in public. They were creatures of darkness and shadow.

            "The best way to resolve this and keep everyone happy is to help me find Timothy Saxon, and return him unscathed to his family," I said.

            "Best for who? You? Me?
Them?
" Jeff said. His eyes narrowed dangerously. "No one threatens me, much less attacks me, without suffering my wrath. No one."

            Was he talking about the mob, or me? I didn't have time to ask, because he turned and walked away. Looking around warily, I followed after the mob. I had to ensure they really got in their cars and left.

Chapter 13

            I walked far enough behind the retreating "crusaders" to keep an eye on them all. They were parked all over the place on the western fringes of Deep Ellum. Most that noticed me following cast either fearful, hateful, or resentful gazes back at me.

            None of them had a good thing to say about me. There was one group of what I kept thinking of as "skin heads," because all five men had buzz cuts, who thought I was blinding Reverend Saxon to the truth and leading him down the path to damnation by association. They referred to me only as "the abomination." They also thought it sinful to leave Deep Ellum without killing at least one vampire.

            I think only my presence kept them from turning back to look for an undead victim. They would look back at me frequently, then look down alleys and side streets longingly. Didn't they see how easily I tossed those cars around? Were they crazy?

            "Those idiots," I muttered.

            I felt how their bodies started to change, to get excited. They were casting way too frequent gazes at dark alleys. One or more of them would find reasons to stop and check out some seemingly innocent object or poster, thus slowing their progress. Since they were on the other side of the street I suspected they wanted me to pass them. I just knew they were going to make a break for it at their first chance.

            I kept a close eye on them as they passed the alley, their excitement quickly souring into disappointment. Then they started eyeing their next opportunity to slip away unseen.

            "Oh!" I cried, reaching for my forehead. A jolt of intense fear and pain knifed through my psyche. It staggered me. "Gabe?"

            It was Gabe. Something happened to him. Something bad. A cold chill slithered up my spine. He was hunting Ben Rothschild. Gabe's pain and fear was incredible and brief. Something very wrong about that. It reeked of vampire.

            Reaching out to Gabe with my vampire senses, I found him not too far away. Really, I knew a direction and felt him to be close. Within Deep Ellum, but up maybe three or four stories high. No more than three or four blocks away.

            Looking around, I realized all the church mob was gone. Where had the skin heads gone? Another worry. Gabe had bitten off more than he could chew, and those five skin heads were about to do the same thing. I had no doubt there were vampires pacing the church mob, hoping to catch a stray. How a vampire would love to catch and torment one of them.

            "How the...?" I gasped out, my link with Gabe cut off. I knew of no way to severe a link, except death. "Gabe!"

            I took off running. He felt like he was one street over, south and east, just before I lost him. The streets were still thick with traffic, vehicle and pedestrian. I spotted the alley and headed for it. Next street over I could turn left and try to figure out his location.

            I barely got twenty feet into the alley before I realized I wasn't alone. Two of the skin heads were there: Walt and Riley. Riley was the leader, the instigator, of the group. Walt was all follower. Riley was a good six-foot-four, two hundred thirty pounds. Not huge, but big. Walt stood an inch or two shorter, with about another twenty pounds of meat on him. I didn't see or feel the other three.

            "Out of my way," I said when Riley and Walt turned at my approach, then stood defiantly before me. "A friend of mine is in trouble."

            "I think you're in more trouble, vampire," Riley said. Really, it was more of a sneer.

            I slowed to a walk, but didn't stop. Neither Riley nor Walt seemed the least bit intimidated by me. That was irritating. They must not have seen what I did. But how could they've have missed it? Their emotions were calm and confident.

            I stopped two feet in front of them.

            "Are you fools? Or do you have a death wish?" I said.

            "Death wish," Riley said, and smiled. The other three skin heads filed out of a door behind me. I was trapped. Or so they thought. "
Your
death."

            "We're here to conduct some wish fulfillment," Foster said.

            He was behind me, in the middle of those three. He was the shortest of them, at five nine. But he was a burly five nine. The other two were muscular six footers.

            "Too late. I died back in September," I said.

            I locked my eyes on Riley's face, feigning indifference with the other four men. Truth was, I knew exactly where each was, and his emotional state. When it was time to attack, I'd know even before they did.

            "You seem to have forgotten to go to Hell," Riley said.

            He looked calm and confident, but his heart was hammering harder than the others. Riley licked dry lips, and tried to cover up his fear with a cruel sneer. The three men behind me starting inching up closer and closer.

            "No. I didn't forget. I'm avoiding it," I said.

            I heard an odd sound, and Foster's excitement ramped up. He was doing something. I slanted a look back at him, and Walt lunged at me. Blocking his attempt to grab my right wrist, I followed up with an upper cut to the chin that sent him reeling back. The other four leapt upon me.

            Even a vampire cannot stop four big men attacking from four directions. They all got their hands on me. Someone yanked my hair back. Hard. Three punches into both sides and my gut followed half a second later. Though none of them were incapacitating, they all hurt. Hurt a lot, for a few seconds.

            Something cold and wet slapped across my lower face, covering my mouth and nose. It took all of two seconds to realize Foster was trying to chloroform me. As more hard fists pounded into my ribs, my hands came up and snatched his away from my face.

            "Oh, you are doing to pay," I growled, and drove a hard elbow in his chest.

            Foster grunted and staggered back. He dropped the chloroform soaked cloth and clutched at his chest. I realized from the high distress coming from him that I hurt him bad. Like mortal wound bad.

            "Oh God," Foster whispered.

            He dropped to his knees, a mask of terror spreading across his face. I started to panic. Killing one of my father's supporters was beyond comprehension, even if he was trying to kill me.

            "Help him," I said. "He's dying."

            "Bitch!" Walt cried, charging back in with a board. I turned to see a two-by-four swing around and right across my eyebrows. "Die, abomination!"

            "Ugh!" I cried.

            The force of the blow sent me stumbling backwards. That strike would've killed a mortal, and it left me dazed and weak. Both arms were seized, and I was held tight as Riley stepped up behind me and Walt in front of me. I looked past Walt and saw Foster on his side, clutching his chest. I could feel him dying. Why weren't they helping him?

            "Fool," I said. My voice was weaker than my body. That encouraged them, and blinded them to the fact I was recovering super fast. "Foster is going to die if you don't help him."

            Riley threw an arm around my throat in a choke hold. A second later, he pressed a chloroform soaked cloth over my mouth and nose. I held my breath. Vampire. Breathing not required. Walt grinned wolfishly, got my undivided attention and thrust the end of his board into my solar plexus. Ouch.

            He hit me so hard with the butt end of that board it felt like he struck my backbone. It had to be the most painful blow I'd felt since that morning the bikers caught me on the stairs below my apartment, many months back and before I was a vampire.

            Walt hit me so hard and well, that I expelled all the air in my lungs, and sucked in more air to refill them. All without thought. A second later I realized my mistake. Everything started to spin. Strength began bleeding from my limbs and my resolve to fight faded.

            "Uuuggghhh," I groaned, struggling to break free of the three men holding me.

            Walt laughed, and pulled the board back to hit me again. I kicked straight up, and caught him in the chin again. I was near hysterical. But not so crazed to miss the crack of his neck when his head snapped back from my kick. Walt fell straight back. He was dead before he hit the ground.

            "Vamp, Walt's going to beat you into a bloody mess when he wakes up," Riley sneered into my ear.

            The kick was my last hurrah. My struggles quickly subsided. I felt the supreme satisfaction within my three captors. They were so damned proud of themselves. They started laughing and joking as they pulled my arms back and handcuffed my wrists.

            "She went down quick and easy," Judd said.

            "Vampires can't handle drugs," Riley said. "But I thought she took a long time, for a vampire."

            "Wow," Orson said. "So the next vamp will pass out even faster?"

            "Yep," Riley said. "Black Heart will be the hardest one we kill."

            "That's so sweet," Judd said.

            The way they were talking you'd think they were discussing a new puppy or something. Shouldn't they be grimmer or more subdued? They were discussing murdering me, after all. At least they could take it more seriously than a damned football game.

            I was released to collapse at their feet. One of them kicked me over onto my back. Riley put the chloroform soaked cloth over my face.

            "How are we going to kill her?" Orson said.

            They didn't know? Did they make any plans at all? Surely they weren't winging it?

            "I have wooden stakes in the trunk," Riley said. I heard the jingle of keys. "Go get them, Judd. They're in a bag."

            "You won't be needing any stakes," another voice said.

            "Who are you?" Riley said.

            "Ben. Ben Rothschild," he said. "Another vampire."

            "Spread out," Riley said. I felt their excitement rise. Little fear within them after taking me out so easily. "Wake up Walt and Foster."

            I heard Ben chuckling. Judd and Orson were shaking and cursing their downed brothers in vampire hunting. Contempt washed through me. Such pathetic hunters. They didn't even try to save their brothers. Heck, they were so clueless they didn't even realize their friends were dying and dead. They knew now.

            "Shit! The bitch broke Walt's neck," Orson cried. "He's dead!"

            "What?" Riley said. His confidence was rocked. I felt the doubts and fear building within all three. "What about Foster?"