Blood Song (28 page)

He laughed and his smile widened to the wicked grin I remembered so well. “We don’t have time,” he teased.

“No, we don’t,” I agreed, but I couldn’t help feeling that it was a damned shame, and I didn’t look away. Still, there was real regret in my voice when I said, “And we probably wouldn’t do it even if there was.”

“Don’t bet on that.” He grabbed the sack of food from my hand and reached into it to pull out an egg roll. This, of course, left the towel held together with only a loose little half-knot. One little tug … He gave me a wink. “I mean, I’ve only
just
recovered from the last time.”

I blushed. I couldn’t help it. With him standing there, like that, the memory of
last time
was just too fresh.

He laughed again, a sound of pure delight. “God, I’ve missed you, Celia.” He leaned over, giving me a gentle kiss that tasted like egg roll and
him.
Combined with the gentle caress of his hand down the side of my face, it set things in motion all over my body. “I know all the reasons it didn’t work. But I do miss you.”

“I miss you, too.” I felt a little pang of sorrow admitting it out loud. I’d loved him so much, wanted it to work so badly. Even though we’d both tried, it just hadn’t. But even at our worst the sex had been spectacular, and athletic enough that we’d actually broken the frame of his bed.

He leaned forward and kissed me again, this time with more … enthusiasm. He even managed to French-kiss me without stabbing himself on my fangs. He pulled me to my feet and I let him. Smooth muscles pulled me tight against him until I groaned. Then his mouth was on my neck, nipping and kissing until I felt tension in places I hadn’t felt in a long time. His hands moved up and down my body with practiced ease, remembering the curves and hot spots that made my knees weak without even trying. I couldn’t help but glide my fingers over his still-damp back. I was sorely tempted to pull away the towel and pull him onto the floor on top of me. To hell with the vampire or the Feds or anything else. I
missed
feeling like this. Missed
him.

He moaned then, apparently thinking the same thing, because his hands found their way under my shirt and began to tingle my breasts and parts lower with that old, familiar magic. Even before, he’d been able to use magic during sex to make things feel … better. Now it wasn’t just better, it was
amazing
. My muscles began to ache with need, and the flush of early embarrassment had turned to heat of a whole different kind.

The sensations were scary amazing, and he realized it, too. Gentle caresses turned desperate and demanding, our hands clutching at any hint of bare skin. It happened so fast I couldn’t catch my breath and I realized we were a ticking time bomb. If we didn’t stop soon, a lot of things were going to happen—some we’d probably regret. But only some.

He pulled back from the kiss, his pupils fully dilated and his breathing harsh. A full-out shudder wracked his body and his hands clenched into fists, as though struggling against his better judgment to reach for me again.

I knew the feeling.

“I’d better go get dressed.” As he stepped back, out of reach, I noticed that the towel was tenting out from his body.

“Either that or take a cold shower,” I called after his rapidly retreating form. I didn’t hear his response, but I was willing to bet it was profane. Frankly, I could use a cold shower myself. My lips were still tingling from both residual magic and sheer body heat. Damn, he was going to be a tough man to ignore while he was in town.

I was still shivering when I crossed the room to sit at the table by the balcony. The late-afternoon sun glimmered through the metallic fabric of the full-length sheers. I pulled out the nearest chair, setting it in the shadows just past the edge of the light, and settled myself in comfortably to wait. The same magazine I’d purchased earlier was sitting on the polished wood surface of the table. I stared at the cover, trying to figure out exactly what was bothering me about the picture.

Obviously I felt sorry for the fiancée. I mean, if the real prince was anything at all like the fake, he was a complete scumbag. But there she sat, at a long table in an elaborately decorated room, facing the throng of press. She was seated between the prince and a sour-looking old man in traditional garb who could only be her father.

Arrayed at an angle behind them on either side of a pair of national flags were what appeared to be military-issue bodyguards, all large, all male. There was nary a smile to be seen in the group. Damn it, what
was
it about this picture? I tried to bludgeon my brain into giving up the information, but it just wouldn’t. Maybe if I read the article.

I started to flip through the magazine and had just reached the page I wanted when Bruno stepped into the room, fully dressed. “Okay, let’s go. Daylight’s burning.”

We got back to PharMart as the sun was sinking in the western sky.

Bruno and I had run through one of the chain roast beef restaurants. He had the French—I had the dip. It wasn’t a perfect solution, but we’d had to do something. The sun was starting to sink toward the western horizon and I could feel my body starting to tense. Everything was so
intense.
I could hear heartbeats. Scent sweat and fear in ways that I would never have believed possible.

“Are you going to be able to do this?” Bruno’s voice was gentle, but he wouldn’t look at me, deliberately pretending that pulling the rental car into a parking spot in the nearly empty PharMart lot took every bit of his attention.

“I’m fine.” I was … mostly. My skin wasn’t glowing and my vision hadn’t gone into hyperfocus. But I did wonder if I would’ve had a repeat of last night if I hadn’t eaten. Would every sunset be a battle? Scary thought, and one I refused to dwell on. For now, there were vampires to slay. Matteo was already there, had done his meditation and was ready to go. We didn’t know when, or if, the bat would show up. So we needed to be ready.

Matteo tapped on the window. If he was nervous, I couldn’t tell. His expression was serious, even grim, but that was it.

“I called the order. They confirmed I won’t get any backup from my fellow priests.” He sighed. “They admit the vampire is a serious threat, but our resources are stretched very thin here on the West Coast.” He made it sound matter-of-fact, but I was shocked. It’s a big order, with a lot of resources. They couldn’t even spare one monk? That made no sense. Unless … “It isn’t just one minor demon anymore, is it?” I spoke softly, mainly because I was scared. I might not remember everything from college, but the chapters on demonology were gruesome enough to be unforgettably etched in my mind.

“I did
not
say that.” Matteo had paled and started trembling. “And don’t you say it, either. We can’t afford for word to get out. It’d start a panic.”

“Oh,
shit.
Should you even
be
here?” Bruno’s voice was a little breathy. Evidently I wasn’t the only one who remembered my studies.

Matteo closed his eyes and sighed. “I’m
supposed
to be on medical leave. I’m not allowed to help with the other problem, so I might as well be here.”

I hadn’t seen any injuries, but if he was hurt enough that they weren’t letting him on the demon hunt, he was probably too hurt to be doing this. I opened my mouth to say just that, but a look from Bruno silenced me.

Ah, male pride—or maybe just DeLuca pride. Matteo couldn’t be in on the big demon hunt, but he needed to do
something
. So we were giving him the next best thing, an übervamp. If things went according to plan, we should be able to take her down without anyone getting hurt. Of course, how often do things actually go according to plan?

I squashed that thought like a roach. It was as good a plan as we could make. We were well armed. Matteo was the weaker of the two brothers when it came to magic, so he reactivated the outer ring of defenses. It takes less power to recharge something that’s already established than to set up something new. Bruno would have the harder job, but I didn’t doubt he was up to it. I was just there to play trigger woman.

If the authorities showed up they’d do the dirty work for me, but I didn’t think they’d be here. I’d done my civic duty and called in to get the kill sanctioned, but the police forces were stretched pretty damned thin this week. Anaheim was hosting the World Series for at least two games—night games. All hands had to be on deck, particularly with the militant priestly orders otherwise occupied. Then again, maybe that was
why
the demons and bats were moving now. They might be evil, but they weren’t stupid.

Matty walked the ring using holy water. I felt the hum of magic vibrate through the ground at my feet. It raised the hairs all over my body, and I wondered if it was too much. If I could sense it, maybe she would, too. If she did, she wouldn’t cross the line and get caught in our trap. I opened my mouth to say as much, but the magic eased back down before I could get a word out.

Shaking my head, I went back to examining my weapons. Nothing had changed since I’d checked them earlier, but I needed reassurance. I find the razor’s edge of a knife and the smell of gun oil comforting. So sue me.

An old beater of a Chevy pulled into the parking lot and the teenage clerk climbed out. He was in his uniform, ready to go on shift. He noticed me and gave me a smile and wave as he hurried into the building.

That was creepy. I mean, I knew he didn’t remember being bespelled. But I did.

The sun sank farther in the west and the automatic lights flicked on, illuminating everything with flat orange light that made the shadows seem all the darker. Day transitioned into night with little fanfare. Cars drove by on the main road, radios blasting. When the light turned red, mariachi horns competed with the thumping bass of hip-hop. I was hunched down in the seat of Matty’s rental sedan, waiting out of sight, alternately hoping and worrying that I had been wrong, that she wouldn’t show up. I didn’t know where Matty and Bruno were hiding.

Time dragged. My back started spasming in protest at the unnatural position I was in. The discomfort was such that I was almost tempted to get out of the car and stretch. I might have, if I hadn’t heard the purr of a car engine pulling slowly into the shadowed parking lot a short distance away. I heard the soft whump of a car door closing and the unmistakable crunch and click of high heels on rock-strewn asphalt.

And then I felt her, like the faintest hint of a breeze across sweat-soaked skin: power, soft as a lover’s whisper, calling. It was seductive, irresistible. Right then and there I thanked God that she wasn’t calling me. Because I would’ve gone, gone with a smile on my face and a song in my heart. I’d have gone rushing headlong, gladly, to the arms of death. She was that good.

I heard the automatic door of the store whoosh open, heard voices calling out in protest. And still I waited.
Hurry up, guys. We’re running out of time here.

Almost as if they heard my thoughts I felt the surge of energy as strong walls of power snapped into place.

Time to roll.

I rose and climbed from the car, pulling my gun and flipping off the safety as I did. I wasn’t moving fast. I didn’t want to take any chances.

She heard me coming and turned, hissing, flashing ivory fangs; the skin of her face was stretched taut over her skull in a way that bore no resemblance to humanity. Her skin glowed, creating its own light, so that I could see my target with utter clarity.

I heard the kid shout and run for the door of the store, her spell over him broken by her distraction. Setting myself into a classic shooter’s stance, I very deliberately fired two shots at her chest. After the first shot, blood and skin exploded backward to run down the thickened air that formed the wall behind her.

The second shot missed the vampire, embedding itself in a newspaper rack. By then she was moving, racing between the two rings of power, trailing gouts of blood as the arteries pumping into her shattered heart hosed their contents into the night. She was searching for a weakness in either wall, an escape, but Matteo and Bruno had done their jobs too well.

She screamed, an unearthly sound of rage combined with raw magical power that nearly deafened me.

In my peripheral vision I saw the boys step out of their hiding spots. Bruno aimed the gun I’d loaned him. Matteo was armed with something just as deadly to a bat—one of the oversized water guns, filled with what had to be holy water.

He opened fire, aiming not at her neck or heart but across her legs in a steady stream. It wasn’t enough to cut off her legs, but it dropped her to the ground in screeching agony, giving me a chance to fire again into a chest that had already almost healed.

I was nearly deaf at this point, and felt fluid running down my neck. Whether it was sweat or my ears were bleeding I didn’t know or care. I dropped to one knee, braced my elbow against the concrete base of a light pole, and aimed for her neck, hoping to sever her spine and cut off her head, putting an end to this. I was concentrating hard, looking for the right opening, which is my only excuse.

I didn’t hear it coming, didn’t see the car until it slammed into Matteo, sending him flying across the line of protection to lie, crumpled and bloody, beside the vampire. She howled in triumphant rage, grabbing him and pulling him into her lap to use his body as a shield. Despite what had to be hideous injuries, he struggled until she forced his gaze to meet hers. I watched furious resolve melt into a passive smile that was horribly, disturbingly, vacant.

I aimed for the eye that peeked over the top of Matty’s head but was distracted by a blur of movement in my peripheral vision. It was moving too fast to be anything human, so I pulled the trigger as I turned. Blood and worse blossomed from the vampire’s back as the bullets tore into his chest. He grunted with pain, but momentum carried him into me, slamming me against the concrete with a vicious impact that sent the gun spinning from my hand.

That he was stunned was the only thing that saved me. Fighting with abnormal strength and utter desperation, I managed to get out from under him. As I crab-crawled awkwardly away, Bruno fired one shot after another. The shots tore through the creature’s neck, severing the head. It was messy but effective. Blood splattered and pooled around him, but his chest stopped moving and his eyes stared vacantly upward.