Fangtastic (21 page)

Hulk-Nelson stood behind her, holding a taser he must have taken off one of the guards.

“I've had enough of her,” he said, glaring around. “Anybody else?”

No one else seemed inclined to step up, at least not at that moment. The freed vamps started rounding up the guards and taking them back to the newly empty rooms for lockup.

Nelson stayed in place, now staring at me in challenge.

“They can't have it back,” he said, giving me a look that dared me to argue.

I didn't even blink. You didn't look away from a potential nutbar with a taser. “Have what back?” I asked.

“This body. They've ruined mine. They locked me away, but I heard everything. I know my face has been splashed all over the media. I'm a wanted man. Xander did the crime, he can do the time.”

Bobby came up to stand beside me. Then Marcy and Brent. If he tried to come at me with that taser, he wouldn't get far. Hell, Bobby could drop him where he stood. But after all he'd been through …

“That seems fair,” I told him.

His stance eased a little … until the sirens started off in the distance, until a new figure stepped through the outer door and said, “The police are on their way. We'd better get going.”

“Uncle Eric?” Nelson asked, wonder in his voice. His face went through a complete transformation, and remarkably I could see the teen boy inside. He dropped the taser.

“Nelson?” Eric asked back. “Is that really you?

They rushed at each other, and suddenly there was a big old hugfest right there in the entryway with freed vamps streaming around us, running off before the sirens could get any closer.

“Guys,” Brent cut in, “can we put the family reunion on hold? We'd better get out of here right flippin' now.”

“But we can't just leave this place to start right up again once we're gone,” I protested.

“I don't think that's going to be a problem,” Marcy said. “We destroyed most of the fence. The vamps probably destroyed the rest on their way out. And now that they know it's here … ”

“The Feds'll just start fresh somewhere else,” I said with a sigh.

“Nothing we can do about that tonight,” Brent answered. “Let's move.”

We raced off into the night, leaving the authorities to clean up our mess.

17

B
rent hot-wired us a van from the hospital lot—a much roomier ride than we'd had on the way over—and we rushed to escape the area before any kind of perimeter could be set up. If the area went into lockdown, if the state or local authorities set up roadblocks and checkpoints, we'd be toast.

Eric took some crazy chances and ran at least three red lights. I wouldn't have given him credit for having the balls, but I had to admit, I was pretty impressed—
terrified
,
but impressed. It wasn't until he finally slowed and started driving like a law-abiding citizen that it occurred to me that we'd destroyed a lot more than a Federal facility. We'd pretty much blown up our past, present, and future. We couldn't go back … not to Mozulla, Ohio, not to the Hudson Valley of New York, and now not to anywhere near Tampa, Florida. The Feds would be looking for us, probably with homicidal intent. Was there anywhere we'd be safe?

“Uh, guys?” I said into the silence. “What now?”

“Well, I thought we'd head back to my hideout,” Eric answered. “No one's found it yet, and you should be safe—”

“No, I mean what
next
?
Not where do we go to ground for a day, but after that.”

We'd gone from high school, which at least had some end in sight, to the potential of eternity tangled up in vampire power plays, to an offer we couldn't refuse to work for the Feds. As long as I'd been alive, someone had insisted I do this or that. Sure, I did it my way, in style, but still … Now we had all the freedom a price on our heads would allow and no direction. Kinda like having a degree but no idea what to do with the rest of your life, and we had a helluva lot of it in front of us. It was … scary. Maybe scarier than anything else we'd faced so far.

“That's a good question,” Brent said, squeezing Marcy's hand. “You have an idea?”

“I do,” Bobby cut in. Everybody but Eric looked at him expectantly. “This isn't over—this Cold War or whatever
between the Fangs and the Feds—and both are messing with civilians.”

“Civilians?” Brent asked.

“Yeah, like I was before the Feds sucked me in, before I met you,” Marcy said, bumping him with her shoulder. He bumped her back, and before long it devolved into rolling around on the floor of the van in a liplock of epic proportions—moaning, groping, and rubbing up against each other. Hot enough to get them a PG-13 rating. Bobby and I looked at each other and exchanged a smoldering glance of our own. We had ideas, but they'd keep. We could totally be the mature ones.

“You were saying,” I prompted Bobby, trying to ignore my bestie and her new boy toy as they rolled into my leg.

“Look, we might have busted into that hospital to rescue Nelson, but we busted the others out because what the Feds were doing was
wrong
.
But now, whatever the vamps do—whether they find a way to overcome their sunlight sensitivity or mesmerize people to line up to be lunch … it's on us.”

Well, crap. “So what do you propose we do about it?”

“There must be other sites, right? Other places, other states, other facilities. We find them and we shut them down.”

“Us against the Feds?” Marcy asked dubiously.

“And
the vamps. Think about it like checks and balances on the whole thing.”

“Like what?”

“You know, like the three branches of government are each supposed to keep watch on the others. We keep an eye on the Fangs and the Feds and step in where we're needed.”

“Oh, the Fangs
and
the Feds,” Marcy answered. “That's
much
better.”

“I'm in,” Nelson said instantly.

Eric almost veered off the road. “You sure about that? You've only just gotten your life back—”

“After everything they did to me … Yeah, I'm sure. But only if you're with us.”

“I—crud puppies!” Eric cursed, suddenly slowing down to a crawl. He stared off to the left, down a side street we were creeping past. Halfway down the block was a cluster of cars, all dark. No bells or whistles, but one of them had a light bar on top. Patrol unit, no doubt. A small army of men swarmed from them in dark suits or crime-scene-tech coveralls. “They found where I've been staying. I thought we'd be safe there, but … ”

“I know where we can go,” I said. “Or at least who we can call.” All eyes were on me now, which was as it should be. “Anybody got a cell phone?”

Brent produced one from his pocket, surprisingly not crushed into dust with all the rolling around he'd just been doing with Marcy.

I raised a brow at him. “A disposable,” he said. “Not Federal issue.”

“Great.” I still remembered Hunter's number. Maybe all the super spy training had finally taken … just in time for me to use it against them.

The call went through and the phone started to ring. I knew I could count on Hunter's help, as long as I was willing to pay the price. All it would take was one little kiss … the eternal kind.

“So, where do we want to start?” I asked as I waited for the call to connect.

“Vegas,” Eric offered.

“L.A.,” Marcy chirped.

“Somewhere a lot less sunshiny,” Bobby suggested. “Maybe the Pacific Northwest.”

“Salem, Massachusetts,” Brent said. “We'll blend right in.”

Hunter came on the line and we arranged to meet. Tonight we'd get the hell out of Dodge. Tomorrow we'd take on the world.

The End.

© Olan Mills

About the Author

Lucienne Diver writes humorous vamps, because it's hard to take life seriously when your puppy sits under your desk licking your toes as you type. Her heroine, Gina, got her start in
Vamped
and, as will come as no surprise to those who've read it, subsequently decided she wanted more, more, MORE! Thus, one book became two and two will become four—who knows where it will stop? Today the book store, tomorrow the mall!

Stay tuned for the further adventures of the Covello
Clan in
Fangtabulous
, forthcoming from Flux Books!