Hunted By The Others (15 page)

I screamed and jerked back as he came at me, moving with a boneless grace, his fingers curled into grasping claws. My finger tightened on the trigger and he twisted to one side, hissing a spitting mixture of pain and epithets as he fell just short of me when I pressed my back flat up against the door. The bullet barely slowed him down, since he gathered his feet up under him and leapt up almost as soon as he’d fallen, black blood oozing sluggishly out of the wound in his shoulder.

I seemed to have acquired a sixth sense, knowing exactly what he was going to do before he did it. As he sprang forward again, I ducked, twisting my body around to get in another shot to his torso as he came at me. There was little room to maneuver, and he was driving me back from the only exit, but I wasn’t so interested in that as in avoiding having him sink his fangs into me or crush my arm again.

His eyes had shifted to glowing red pools of hot hatred, his fangs nearly cutting into his lower lip as he came at me. There was no room for thought as he reached grasping fingers for my wrist, capturing the one that held the gun and forcing the third shot to go wild. I could hear shouts and pounding on the door as we fought, but they were distant, somewhere outside myself. As he crashed into me, I fell back, digging a knee into his stomach and forcing him to flip over my head and land painfully on his back. Whoa. Where’d I learn to do that?

His grip loosened as he hit the floor, and the two of us twisted and shifted like snakes, coming back to our feet in seconds and warily facing off just a few feet apart.

As I reached for the other gun, he came silently forward once again, lips peeling back from his fangs as he slid one arm around my waist in mockery of a lover’s touch. The other came up to grab my wrist again, forcing my arm back and to the side as he drove his fangs against my neck, trying to bite through the material.

I could feel the pressure of the bite, but the fangs never penetrated. I’d probably have one heck of a weird-looking bruise at the crook of my neck later on. Enraged, he scraped his fangs over the material as he kept trying and failing to pierce the shirt, which I was more than thankful for right at that moment. His grip on my wrist was painfully tight, but my other arm was still free. I slid my free hand up and under his jaw and shoved, hoping to at least get him off my shoulder.

The result was a little more than either of us were expecting. His jaw audibly snapped shut and he staggered back unsteadily, like I’d given him one mother of an uppercut. His fingers at my back slipped and slid against the slick material of my shirt and finally lost their grip entirely. He had wrapped the fingers of his other hand entirely around my small wrist, and didn’t let go, almost jerking me off my feet as he pulled back.

Unthinking, quick as a whip, I closed the newfound distance between us with a stake in my free hand, just barely piercing his chest right above where I somehow knew, just
knew,
a blackened husk of a heart rested. He went very still, the hatred frothing behind those black eyes turning into an abrupt kind of panic and fear. I was willing to bet it had been a very, very long time, if ever, since he’d had to worry about an untimely end to his existence. He hadn’t had a doubt in his mind when he attacked that he would win. I knew for a certainty that it was the “real” Royce looking so afraid. After all, what did the holder of the focus have to worry about other than losing a valuable pawn? If not for the fact that I knew he had been trying to kill me a few seconds ago, I might have felt sorry for him right at that moment.

“Look,” I said quietly, realizing dimly and with a vague sense of horror that there was a part of me that
wanted
to push that stake home,
wanted
to end his existence, and that I had to put effort into
not
destroying him then and there. “I don’t want to kill you. I don’t want to fight you. I just want to get out of here. So you’re going to back the fuck up, give me some space, and let me walk.
Capeesh?
”

He nodded, and I watched in morbid fascination as something twisted and swam behind his eyes even as his fingers slowly released their vise grip on my wrist. Though I didn’t really want to show weakness in front of him just then, as soon as he let go, I shook my wrist out and grimaced just a little. Man, he had a tight grip.

Fortunately, I had never lost my hold on the gun, so once I’d worked a little circulation back into my wrist, I lifted the weapon until it was aimed square at his nose. Next I tucked the stake that had magically found its way into my hand back into its sheath as I slowly backed toward the door again. He stayed right where he was, fists clenching and unclenching at his sides, but otherwise unmoving. It looked like the holder of the focus was trying to goad him into doing something stupid, and he was gamely fighting against it. That, and, oddly, the blood that had been trickling out of the bullet holes in his shoulder and stomach had ceased flowing. Creepy.

Once I put my hand on the door handle, he spoke, voice low and uneven, like his control was wavering. “
La Petite Boisson
tomorrow night. Bring the mage.”

His eyes were closed, his expression contorting like he was in pain. When his eyes opened again, that feral glitter had come back to them, and he took a step toward me. His voice was once again that sickeningly sweet lull, promising all sorts of things that I really, really didn’t want anything to do with. “When I get my hands on you, you will beg to die. But I won’t let you. I am going to drag out your death for days, weeks, years. You could only wish you had gone the easy route and given yourself over to Royce.”

“That’s nice. Here’s how it’s actually going to play out,” I said with far more brashness than I felt. My insides felt like they’d turned to iced jelly, but I kept talking smooth and bored like I was going over my grocery list instead of threatening the obviously psychotic holder of the focus. “When I find you, and you stop hiding behind your big bad vampire flunky”—Wow, did I really just call Royce a flunky?—“I am going to kick your sorry, cowardly ass from here to the Mississippi. And trust me, I will find you.”

He snarled and took another threatening step, so I shot him in the knee. He fell, howling and cradling his injured leg, and I stared in stupid shock. I hadn’t even thought about pulling the trigger, hadn’t even really tried to take aim. The laser sight wasn’t on. How could I have managed to hit him? I’m not
that
good a shot.

Yet somehow I’d just felled him with no real effort, knowing instinctively that it would take him too long to recover from the knee injury for him to follow me.
Go in for the kill. He’s easy prey now,
a soft voice whispered in the back of my mind.
He can’t run or fight back as well wounded like that. All it will take is one quick thrust and it will all be over.
Chilled, I shook my head violently to stop the thoughts prodding at me, holstered the gun, and yanked the door open.

The people who had been gathered outside the door backed up immediately, all of them looking frightened and shocked. I threw one last, pitying look over my shoulder to the vampire who was glaring at me with someone else’s hatred in his eyes. There was some part of me that was hating back, not Royce, but the one who was making him lash out against me. Sure, he was a manipulative bastard, probably worthy of some loathing, too, but I knew what it was like being under someone else’s thumb. It couldn’t have been easy for someone who was so used to being in control to be subjected to something like the hold of the focus. He was suffering from that indignity a lot more than I was just now.

He was a vampire, but he had also been human at one time. While he’d been a manipulative asshole in the short time I’d known him, he hadn’t done anything to physically harm me exactly, only use me. The holder was something else. Whoever it was seemed out for blood. Royce was smart enough to have let me go once he knew the papers had been doctored; it was the holder forcing him into acting like such an unconscionable, unreasoning shithead.

That made it much easier to make my next decision.

“I’ll save you,” I promised before turning on a booted heel and rushing past the people and through the offices, faster than I’d ever run in my life. The cubicles and doorways were a blur, and once out the door, I barely paused in my rush to the gleaming exit sign down the hallway. I’d take the stairs and meet Arnold and Sara outside so we could make a quick getaway.

But who will save you?
asked that mocking voice in the back of my mind.

Arnold and Sara were in the lobby, having a shouting match with the security guard, who was also shouting orders into a walkie-talkie and waving a gun at them. When my friends saw me burst out of the stairwell, they started shouting in relief at me instead. I couldn’t make out a single thing anyone was saying, and even though I was nearly shot by the skittish security guard, who trained his gun on me the instant I appeared, I didn’t stop running for the doors leading out into the street.

“Let’s get out of here!” I cried on my way past the guard desk.

They followed quickly enough, and I glanced back just long enough to see Arnold pointing in the direction of the car. Three blocks away, I finally spotted it, and only then turned to see what happened to Arnold and Sara.

They were trailing gamely behind, but a block and a half away. A New York City block is pretty dang long, and it surprised me to see how much distance I’d put between us. Strange. Just like my newfound strength and Annie Oakley shooting skills, it seemed I’d picked up some peculiar latent talents in the last half an hour or so. The sound of police sirens in the distance was getting louder, but I couldn’t see where they were. There was a part of me that simply
knew
that the cops were roughly half a mile away, coming toward Royce’s office building from a different direction than we’d been running. Weirded out, I started pacing, only then noticing I wasn’t even winded once Sara and Arnold joined me, huffing and puffing, a minute or so later.

“Go, speed racer.” Sara grinned at me weakly, taking a few quick breaths. “When did you turn into a marathon runner?”

“When…she…” Arnold gasped, wheezing more than I would’ve expected considering it was only a couple of blocks. Maybe he was a heavy smoker? “…put on…the…belt…”

Horrified, I looked down at the plain black leather circling my waist. “This did
that
?”

He nodded, braced his hands on his knees for a moment before clicking the car open. We all slid inside, me in the back, Sara in the front, and I cringed as something that sounded like faint, mocking laughter bounced around in my skull.
I can do a lot more than that if you let me
, that strange, whispery voice said.

“What the blue flying
fuck
!” I exclaimed, scrabbling at the belt buckle. Arnold and Sara twisted around in their seats, eyes wide as they stared at me having a fit over the buckle. It seemed like the tongue had adhered with superglue to the rest of the belt and wasn’t about to be pried loose by my frantic fingers.

That won’t help anything
, it said, that edge of mocking laughter grating on what few nerves I had left.
You’re stuck with me until sunrise. Relax.

“I won’t relax! Get out of my head!” I cried, redoubling my efforts. Sara and Arnold exchanged a look and I glared at them. “Snide looks aren’t helping me get this thing off any faster!”

“Uh, Shia, you do realize you were just talking to yourself, right?” Sara said, amused.

“She was talking to the belt,” Arnold said, though he was still staring at me like I’d grown two heads. I finally folded my arms across my chest and growled in frustration, quickly unfolding them when the guns started digging into my ribs again. Damn it, I had to remember how uncomfortable it was to do that. “It’s…uhh…It’s sentient. A dead hunter’s spirit inhabits it and gives it its power.” He had the grace to look sheepish, I’ll give him that.

Seething, I reached out and grabbed the collar of his shirt, practically dragging him into the back seat with me. He yelped and grabbed at my wrist, but wisely didn’t fight back. The way I was feeling just then, I probably would’ve punched his teeth in if he had. “Why didn’t you tell me this sooner?!”

“Would you have put it on if you’d known?” he shot back. That gave me pause. Knowing that some dead guy would be talking to me through a fashion accessory all night? No, no, I most definitely would not have put it on or even touched it with a ten-foot pole. However, I had to admit that it had saved my skin in the fight with Royce.

I gradually relaxed my grip on Arnold’s shirt so he could settle back in his own seat. Looking a trifle offended, he straightened his collar and started the car, quickly pulling out into the street. Probably so I wouldn’t pull that stunt of dragging him into the back with me again.

“It’s most likely been dying for someone to talk to. According to the logs, we’ve had it in the vault for over fifteen years, and I don’t think the coven that had it before The Circle used it more than a handful of times prior to giving it to us.”

“Great.” I was just thrilled to hear about the sordid—okay, boring—past of the talking inanimate object around my waist. “So when the sun comes up, I can take it off again, right?”

“Yes,” he said at the same time that weird voice started chattering at me. Y
ou heard the vampire, he wants you to return tomorrow night. You’ll need me as much as I need you. This is freedom for me. Wear me, let me out, and I will reward you with strength and knowledge beyond your wildest dreams. You don’t have to hunt if you don’t want to, just let me out, wear me, use me, LET ME GO LET ME OUT LET—

Sara had been saying something, but the droning of the belt kind of drowned her out. “Fine, whatever, just shut up already!” I said, relieved when it did as I said. I hastily turned to Sara. “Not you. Sorry, repeat that?”

“I said,” she replied dryly, “that you might want to consider wearing it until the current crisis is over. I take it by the way you were booking it out of there that things with Royce went south?”

Cringing at the thought of it, I nodded, wondering if the belt had anything to do with the fact that I wasn’t shaking in terror or suffering any kind of adrenaline rush. Especially after that battle royal in the conference room. I felt an odd sense of smugness just then, as if it read my thoughts and agreed with them. Creepy thing.

“Yeah. Apparently he doesn’t have the focus.”

Arnold almost snapped his own neck with whiplash when he looked back over his shoulder at me. “What?!”

Yelping, I pointed back at the road, and he turned his attention back just in time to keep from plowing into a cab cutting into our lane. Once he’d straightened out of fishtailing from braking so hard and my pulse resumed something resembling a normal pace, I continued my explanation.

“Someone was controlling him with it. I don’t think he really wanted to attack me, but it didn’t seem like he had a choice. We fought, I won, and I promised I’d try to bail him out.”

Arnold made a choking sound that sounded suspiciously like laughter. Sara, who was rigidly holding on to the oh-shit-handle on her door with one hand and the dashboard with the other, was staring at me over her shoulder. “You’re joking, right? Seriously,
you
, saving a vampire?”

I glared at her. “Oh, can it. I felt sorry for him. Besides, whoever was controlling him is seriously pissed off at me right now and is out for blood. Royce is my only lead to the one who actually has the stupid thing.”

“Check your forehead. Do you have a fever?”

“For God’s sake, Sara!” I smacked her shoulder, eliciting a pained “Ow!” out of her. “If I don’t meet him tomorrow at his restaurant, I might as well throw in the towel. Whoever it is had some kind of evil master plan that I spoiled, and now they want me to pay for it. If I don’t go, I might never get another chance to find out who’s behind Veronica’s murder and trying to kill
me
now.”

“All right, all right.” She let go of her death grip on the door so she could rub her bruised shoulder. “Tomorrow night, though? What are we going to do until then?”

“Hide,” Arnold cut in before I could speak. “We’ll find a place to bed down for the day, a hotel or something out of town, and come back tomorrow night to find Royce. Maybe there’s something I can do in the meantime to track down the holder. Get some clues or something.”

“Why should I hide?” I asked, irritated. “I was safe enough at Sara’s before.”

“Because Royce has the resources to have tracked her down, and if you aren’t at your apartment, that’s the next logical place to look. After that fight, aren’t you worried whoever it is might try to find you to finish things off?”

Recalling the alien hatred blazing in those black-and-crimson eyes, I shuddered and nodded. “Yeah, but I shot his knee out. He’s not going to be finishing anything tonight.”

Arnold sighed at that, sounding tired and beaten. “I didn’t say Royce. I was talking about the holder. He’ll probably start using another vamp tonight, or switch to a Were to fight you during the day when the belt won’t protect you. Assuming the holder isn’t another vampire, who would probably rest during the day.”

“Oh, that’s just great. Peachy keen,” I grumped, settling back in the seat and wishing mightily I could cross my arms but having to make due with putting my clenched hands on my thighs.

“Honestly, I’m kind of surprised he didn’t gang up a bunch on you up there. It was just you and Royce?”

“Yeah,” I said, recalling how Royce had balked more than once against the one speaking through him to me. “He was trying not to fight me. A couple of times he managed to hold back when I think he was being ordered to attack.”

Arnold laughed, and I frowned at him. Laughter didn’t seem like a very appropriate response. “We’re in luck!”

I gave a very unladylike snort, followed by Sara’s own incredulous laughter. “Luck? You’ve got to be kidding me.”

“No, we are,” he said, grinning wolfishly. I’d have been worried if he was a vamp or a Were with a look like that. “That means that the holder is weak-willed. Can’t control more than one Were or vamp at the same time. Not of Royce’s age and strength. Maybe a couple of younger ones, but at the very least, it’s an advantage in our favor.”

Wow. Maybe that explained why the holder was so bitchy and pissed off.

Sara threw in her own two cents. “Then we actually have a chance at beating this thing?”

Arnold nodded, and I breathed a deep sigh of relief. That was some of the best news I’d heard all week.