Kiss of Death (32 page)

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Authors: P.D. Martin

BOOK: Kiss of Death
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I take a deep breath and think back to what Ward said and go with my instincts rather than logic. I visualize the white light around me and almost instantly feel stronger.

“Very good,” Winters says. “I see someone's been telling you our secrets.”

“You okay?” Darren whispers, his eyes still on Winters.

“Yes.” But as soon as I say it, I feel another wave of Winters' power hit me, hard. My pathetic white bubble bursts, literally, and the light-headedness returns full force, knocking me for six.

“Sophie!” For the first time Darren averts his eyes to me. In that instant Winters is gone.

Darren springs back up, grabbing my gun and training it on the two remaining vamps and the girl.

“Get Winters.” I manage to push myself to standing. “I can take care of these guys.”

“Are you sure?” Darren hesitates.

“Go! Don't let him get away.”

Darren presses my gun into my hand and then takes off, racing through the bush and leaping over a small shrub before disappearing into darkness.

I wanted Darren to take my gun. Now he's out there alone, unarmed.

I almost hope that Darren doesn't catch up to Winters, but surely a Web-developer vampire is going to run out of steam well before Darren, who's in good physical condition.

I focus on the two perps in front of me, and the girl, leveling my gun at them. “You two, let the girl go and hands in the air.”

They hesitate.

“I'm a little unsteady on my feet after your master fed on me and I'd hate to shoot you guys by accident.” While it's true I'm not feeling myself, I figure I'm much more likely to fall to the ground than let off a stray bullet—but they don't need to know that.

They look at me uncertainly, and then release the girl. Obviously I do look like a woman unable to control my gun.

I unhook a pair of handcuffs from my vest and throw them toward the pair. “Put them on, one each.”

The girl's standing there, bewildered. I'd say Winters was using his psi-vamp skills on her. It would certainly make the girls compliant during a struggle and confused during the chasing part of Winters' little ritual. It's also
possible she's slightly concussed. In my vision she fell and hit her head, and that may have already happened.

“Are you okay, miss?”

She looks up at me, her eyes barely focusing on me or her surroundings. It reminds me of the flash I got of Sherry when I was in her bedroom—I thought she'd been drugged, but it was probably just the aftereffects of Winters' psi-attack.

“Come over to me, please.”

A few seconds elapse before she makes slow and unsteady steps toward me. I'm aware of her movement, but keep most of my focus on the two vamps, even though they're both young guys and neither of them seems capable of doing whatever Winters did to me and the girl.

Once they're cuffed to one another and the girl's standing beside me, I call for backup on the walkie-talkie. But I've only just made the call when I'm suddenly feeling nauseous and giddy again. I stumble forward. The girl leans down next to me, but when I look at her I realize she's not leaning down, she's collapsed. What the…?

I roll over so I'm sitting down on the ground, legs out in front of me. My gun's up and Winters is striding toward me, but my finger won't do what it's told, won't pull the trigger.

“Where's Darren?” I manage to say, but Winters just shrugs.

I've got to trust Ward and myself. Again I visualize the white, protective light surrounding me. But this time I concentrate on nothing else. It takes a very long ten seconds or so, but eventually the trick seems to cut off Winters and I even start to feel stronger again.

“I will beat you, Sophie.”

I ignore him, concentrating only on the white light.

“You stupid woman. Who are you to interfere with evolution?” With each sentence his anger builds. “To interfere with our rite of passage.” Now he's shouting
and my “bubble” seems to be weakening. Just at that moment, LAPD officers Showers and Figara emerge from the brush, guns up.

“Step away! Hands up now!” Figara shouts at Winters.

He obliges, taking a step away from me. I hadn't realized how physically close Winters had got in his attempt to break into my psyche.

I suddenly realize both my arms are hanging limply by my sides, so I raise my gun again and point it at Winters, standing up at the same time.

Showers and Figara are on the move, closing the gap between us, but I notice their steps are getting slower and less certain. Dammit, he's targeting them now. He turns to me and flashes a smile before leaping into the bushes before I can get off a round. A quick glance at Showers and Figara tells me they're in no condition to run.

“Keep your eye on these two.” The two vampires are still standing in the clearing, either too frightened or too stupid to move. “And this girl's our vic.”

I head off on foot behind Winters. If I wait even a few more seconds, I could lose him. I dive through the masses of branches after him, the wood tearing at my face. Again, I keep my gun down, partly so I can run normally and partly because if I'm going to shoot Damien Winters I want to make sure it's my only option.

I can still see him, but he's surprisingly spry, darting around the branches of larger trees and leaping over smaller bushes. Did Darren catch up to him? I keep up the chase and manage to close the distance, ever so slightly.

After a few minutes he starts to slow down—thankfully I'm fitter than he is. He's running toward a rocky outcrop and as he reaches the rocks he rounds a corner. I hurtle after him, knowing that in less than a minute I should be close enough to launch myself at him, but
when I reach the bend in the makeshift trail he's gone. I stand still, looking around. First I look up the ten-meter rock face. There doesn't appear to be any footholds or any other way to climb up. Certainly not in the forty-to-fifty-second lead he has on me. With my back to the rock I hold my gun up in front of me and sweep the one-eighty-degree expanse in front of me. But even with the light of the moon, I can't see anything. Shit, how can I have lost him?

My breathing is evening off and for the first time in a while I'm able to think outside the immediate, outside protecting myself and chasing Winters. Darren! I fish out my cell phone and hit Speed Dial.

I can hear his phone ringing a few hundred feet to the left…but no one answers. Shit! My first impulse is to throw my phone away in desperation, but that's not going to get me anywhere. Instead I hit Redial and run toward the sound of Darren's ringing cell. Winters didn't appear to have any actual weapons on him, so hopefully Darren's okay.

As I run down the hill I stumble on the uneven ground several times, but I manage to keep myself upright, dropping my weight and center of gravity to help me navigate the rough terrain. Every time the phone goes to voice mail I ring again, and within less than a minute I'm standing over the phone. But no Darren. Even though it will give away my position if Winters or any of his clan are nearby, I call out Darren's name. Eventually I hear a small groan over to the left. Darren's only about sixty-five feet from his phone, but hidden under a large shrub. His head rests next to a rock and a small pool of blood has formed near his forehead.

“Sophie?”

“Uh-huh.” I fall to my knees. “Are you okay?”

He winces. “Head.”

I nod. “It doesn't look too bad,” I say, even though
I've got no idea how bad it is. At the very least Darren's probably concussed.

I stand up to call for medical support, but before I can dial, movement catches the corner of my eye and Winters lunges at me. I manage a quick sidestep, avoiding his attack.

I pull up my gun. “Hold it right there.”

But I haven't even got the words out of my mouth before he's on the run again, darting in and out of trees and making a tough target in the dark. I take off after him, but this time he's got a much smaller lead on me. I maintain my pace and it's only another twenty seconds before I'm able to launch myself at him. He tumbles down, and we roll together for one or two rotations. In the scuffle, my gun is forced out of my hand. I look around for it, but can't see it in the dark. That's fine, I'm comfortable with hand-to-hand. I don't study kung fu for nothing.

I launch myself to standing. “Hold it right there, Winters.”

He pauses, but then smiles. “Where's your gun, honey?”

I shrug, but also smile. “I don't need my gun for you.”

He obviously thinks the claim isn't founded, because he brings himself to his feet and takes a swing at me, which I easily block.

“Like I said, I don't need a gun.” I'm enjoying being smart with Winters; he deserves it.

I feel him trying to tap into my energy again, but this time I have no problem shielding him. I don't know if it's because he's tired or if I'm getting a little better at it. I go for a straight punch to his solar plexus, aimed to wind him. It does the job and he doubles over.

“What's the matter? Can't breathe?”

He snarls at me and sends a punch my way. I block
it and slip my leg behind his, before crouching into a low-horse stance and going for an elbow strike to his throat. As intended, he falls backward from the force of my strike and trips over my leg. He's on the ground and I move down with him, putting my knee into his chest while keeping hold of his left arm.

Then I feel him trying to drain my energy again. The bastard. I instantly set up my protection. “Not this time, Winters.” I grab for my spare pair of cuffs and lock one on his left wrist, before rolling him over onto his stomach and grabbing for his other hand. I pull him off the ground by the cuffs.

“Where's the rest of your clan?” I drag him up and start looking for my gun.

“I don't know.” He spits as he talks.

“Come on, Damien. They're here somewhere. It's over.” I keep moving us backward, back to the spot where we originally went down together. “You're going to be arrested for murder, thrown in jail for a very, very long time. We'll round up the other members tomorrow if not tonight.” Then I see it…my gun. I pick it up, flip the safety back on and jam it into my hip holster.

“You don't have any names.” He almost breaks into a laugh.

“Maybe not. But I'm betting the two guys back with your victim aren't going to protect the others or you. They'll cut a deal and you know it.”

“We'll see.”

I start moving us back to Darren. I need to get him medical help as soon as possible.

The woods are silent, yet instinct—or perhaps my gift—tells me to draw my gun. I follow my gut and quickly pull out my 9 mm, flicking the safety back off. In that instant the bushes a meter away from me part and I see one of the twins charging me. My stomach drops and every muscle clenches.

“Stop right there!”

He keeps coming. Shit! I don't want to fire, I really don't. But I can't see any other option. I have a split second to make a decision that will change lives forever….

My body is tense with anticipation and even in that split second I'm hyperaware of nausea, fear. Fear of hurting someone, and fear of being hurt. It's him or me.

Holding my breath, I aim slightly away from his heart and pull the trigger. His body jolts as the bullet hits him in the right side of the chest and he falls to the ground. Oh, God. What have I done? Was there any other option? Bile rises in my stomach, but is pushed back down by a blood-curdling scream.

It happens in slow motion…I turn my head to the source, and seemingly out of nowhere the other twin appears. His face is contorted with anger and his fangs bared as he rushes toward me. I swing my gun around to him instinctively. But this time Winters reacts faster and uses his shoulder to knock me over. I hit the ground hard, but manage to keep my gun in hand. Winters is rolling out of control away from me, also toppled over by the force of his tackle. He'll have a hard time getting to his feet with his hands cuffed behind him.

I look around for the Benson twin, and see him just as he's about to throw himself on me.

“Stop!” I scream again, this time hesitating to pull the trigger. He lands on me and pins both of my arms down.

“Keep her down!” Winters yells. “I'm coming.”

Benson jams his knee in between my legs, a common tactic used by rapists to spread a woman's legs…and he does it with experience. I'm not the first woman he's pinned to the ground, but I'm damned if I won't be the last. As a man, he's physically stronger than me, and he's currently in a position of power with his weight bearing down on top of me. I know I won't be able to keep my gun
once Benson makes a concerted effort for it, and it won't be long before it's two against one. Winters may have his hands cuffed behind his back, but he's still mobile.

I can't afford to hesitate so I start my assault immediately. I roll my hips and legs forcefully to the right and use my left knee to strike the leg Benson's got pinned between mine. This is enough to knock him off balance slightly, and in that moment his grip on my left arm weakens. I go for a kill strike—I have to—bringing the palm of my hand up and into his nose with as much force as I can. The theory behind this strike is that if it's delivered hard enough it will break the nose and force the bones of the nose back into the brain. It's definitely fighting hard and dirty, but that's what I need.

I hear the sickening crack of bone, and blood spurts from Benson's nose onto my face. Turning my head to the side to avoid getting blood all over my face, I strike at his arm that's still pinning my hand, and gun, to the ground. His arm buckles and he rolls to the side, holding his nose and groaning. But while his nose is broken, I couldn't get the right angle or force to deliver the full strike and so he's already stumbling to his feet.

I point my gun at him. “Stop, Benson, or I will fire.”

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