Shadow's Fall (38 page)

“He has more regard for life than most people think. And even after everything the Church did to him, he still has a soft spot for clergy. The thought of him …” He shook his head. “I don’t know what to think either.”

She half smiled. “Most people apologize with a card or flowers.”

“Signets say it with slaughter,” David replied resignedly. “How hopelessly romantic.”

Miranda watched the network monitor for a moment. “You know, it really reminds me of Pac-Man.”

“Are you going to tell me why you came here?” he asked. “I suppose I can guess, knowing you as I do. You got tired of sitting on the sidelines.”

“Exactly.”

“And if someone recognizes you?”

“We’ll deal with that when it happens,” she told him. “If the worst thing that happens is that we have to spin a situation with the press, I’m willing to deal with that. There are a lot of lives in the balance here, not just mine.”

He smiled. “All right, then. At the moment the situation is under control, but if we get another alert, you can handle it.”

“Damn right I can. I’ve had enough of that bastard and his flunkies. We’re in charge here.”

Another smile. “True.”

She raised an eyebrow and said, “I appreciate your not lecturing me about my duties and responsibilities as Queen.”

He sat back, arms crossed. “You’re a grown woman, Miranda, and only you can decide what to do with your power. There’s no rule that a Queen has to fight—you’re one of the few who do, if you’ll recall. I was reluctant to have you out here, I admit. I worry about you being hurt, but in any sort of battle I’d be a fool not to want you at my side.”

She grinned. “That’s why I love you.”

“I thought it was because of that thing I do with my tongue.”

“You should get it pierced.”

David shuddered. “Needles. Hell no. I’ll leave the pincushion antics to …”

Their eyes met. “Forgive him,” Miranda said. “You’ll have to eventually.”

“Not everyone is as forgiving as you are.”

She shrugged. “You didn’t leave me much choice.”

He practically flinched at the words as if she’d slapped him, though there hadn’t been any venom in the statement.

“I don’t mean it like that,” she said quickly. “I just mean that with this gift of mine, I have to learn to keep my own emotions stable, or it’s that much easier to knock me off center with other people’s. Especially yours since we’re so tightly bound. And if that happens …” She shook her head, uneasy just thinking about it. “I can’t lose myself like that again. I might not come back.”

Now, he smiled again. “Have I told you today how proud I am of you?”

“You don’t have to. I know you are. But it’s nice to hear all the same.”

There was a knock, and one of the nurses poked her head in. “Sire, we’ve dealt with all the wounded—we only lost one tonight. Two humans are being transferred to the hospital for observation, but the rest can go home as soon as the Elite are finished blurring out their memories.”

“Thank you, Jackie. Send Mo in when he has a free moment, would you?”

“As you will it, Sire.”

His com chimed. “Star-one,” he said.

“Sire, Faith here. The situation on Eighth was a false alarm, but Elite Forty-seven just called for backup in the warehouse district—I’m headed there with my team now. Sounds like she’s taking crossbow fire.”

“Proceed with caution,” David replied.

“As always, Sire.”

Miranda snorted softly, and he looked at her. “What?” he asked.

“Caution, my ass.”

David nodded. “I’ve noticed. She’s still blaming herself for you wearing the Stone. Speaking of which, I should tell her it’s dealt with so maybe she can loosen up a little.”

“Yes. Don’t wait. She needs to know.”

“Star-three, come in please.”

There was no reply. David frowned. “Star-three.”

Nothing.

Miranda took out her phone and called Faith’s; it went directly to voice mail.

“Can you pinpoint her on the monitor?” she asked.

David was already on it; he hit a few keys on his laptop, and one of the dots on the grid blinked, its designation appearing beside it: Star-three. Next he pinged the other Elite who were with her. Only one seemed to be responding.

“Elite Twenty, what’s your status?” the Prime demanded.

The answer was so much garbled noise that Miranda couldn’t understand a word of it. That was strange and disturbing; there were sophisticated audio filters on the com network to get rid of background noise and amplify the speaker’s voice.

“Elite Twenty, please repeat.”

Nothing again. Now David looked genuinely worried; he accessed Elite 20’s transmission and played it back, running additional filters over it.

This time Miranda caught a few words:
“ … heavy fire … several wounded … requesting backup …”
The sentence ended in a thud, coupled with a noise that sounded like a cry of pain.

“Shit!” David spoke into his com again, this time on broadcast mode. “All available teams proceed immediately to 9798 Third Street East. We’ve lost communication with Second Faith and her team. Situation unknown.”

“Team D-Nine on our way, Sire.”

“Teams B-Six and South-Twenty-one on our way, Sire.”

Miranda’s heart was pounding. “We need to get out there,” she said. “I have a—”

“—bad feeling about this,” David concluded, standing and reaching for his sword. “Let’s go.”

*   *   *

As Faith threw herself sideways and rolled out of the way of a third crossbow bolt, it occurred to her that this was the part in the movie where she should be yelling “GET DOWN!”

Her Elite knew they should get down, however, and they did—as soon as the arrows began to rain down from the roof above, her team darted in all directions and ran for cover.

“Twenty, Sixty-six, I want you on the roof taking those bastards out!” she barked into her com. She saw two shadowy figures scrambling up the side of the building.

She stayed crouched behind the Dumpster but reached down to her belt for the miniature folded crossbow she had strapped on before leaving the Haven tonight. They didn’t normally have to travel with projectile weapons, but Hayes’s thugs seemed to favor them, and it was hard to slice someone’s head off if you couldn’t get closer than firing range. Several of the other teams were armed with full-sized crossbows, but she didn’t like having to lug one along so she’d chosen a portable version.

Unfortunately its range and power were limited—there was no way she could hit anything two stories up.

“Faith!” one of the others called. “My transmissions are blocked—can you call out?”

Faith tried calling for backup, but only silence met her words. “What the hell … Star-one—my team is under heavy fire and needs immediate backup—” She switched to broadcast mode, but the result was the same; her com couldn’t send out.

Cursing, Faith tried calling the Prime on her phone, but there was no signal—they were in the middle of the city. There should be signals for miles.

Up until now Jeremy’s bag of tricks hadn’t included jamming their communications. There had been attacks on humans, vandalism, fires, all sorts of nuisances, but nothing this coordinated. If he’d been saving the technology, that could only mean one thing.

Her team had walked into a trap.

They’d arrived at the coordinates where the SOS had originated from to find no other Elite in sight, but Elite 20 had found two warriors on the ground in the alley, already dead from multiple wooden arrows to the chest. Before they could find the rest of the missing team, the volley had started, and there was no time for further investigation.

She waited for either the arrows to stop or Elite 20 to report from the rooftop, but after several minutes she began to worry. “Eighteen, do you see Twenty or Sixty-six up there?”

Before Elite 18 could answer, something large and heavy struck the pavement a few feet from her. Faith leapt backward with a yelp as a second object followed it, and she realized with a sick lurch that the first one was Elite 20, who landed in a twist of limbs and blood, his eyes gaping open in death.

“Fall back!” she commanded. “Split up and regroup at the nearest rendezvous point!”

One of the others made it, though she couldn’t tell who it was—she just saw someone make a run for it and narrowly avoid getting shot. That left only Elite 18 and Faith.

Suddenly the sounds of arrows hitting bricks stopped. Faith pulled her sword and waited.

She heard shuffling, a struggle, a grunt of pain. A moment later, footsteps from at least four different directions, growing nearer … five, six, seven … ten … twelve pairs of boots, halting just beyond her hiding place.

I’m surrounded.

She could take six or seven at once but not twelve. Not without an escape route available or at least a higher-ground advantage.

Faith sheathed her sword and stood straight, waiting, until one of the vampires stepped out where she could see him.

She and Jeremy stared at each other for a moment.

Then, she tried one last transmission through her com, speaking calmly: “Star-one, this is Star-three; cancel backup.
Do not send any additional Elite to this location. I repeat: Cancel backup.”

Whether it went out or not, she never knew. The blow to her head sent her sprawling to the ground, the night around her gone black in an instant.

Miranda fell out of the Mist with a lurch but stayed on her feet and held back the nausea that always hit her after landing. Three years and she still couldn’t do it without wanting to throw up.

David appeared beside her and took her arm as she swayed slightly. “Are you all right?”

She nodded and grounded as hard and fast as she could. “I hate Misting,” she muttered. “Couldn’t we just turn into bats or something?”

David smiled distractedly, his phone already in his hand. “The network signal is coming back online,” he said. “I’m still not getting any … wait … I’m getting a homing signal from Elite Twenty-two.”

Miranda’s heart sank. The homing beacon went off only if the person wearing the com was no longer transmitting life signs.

He crossed the street at a run, and she followed, pulling her hilted stake just in case. As they reached the alley where Faith and the others had vanished, Miranda drew up short.

“Oh, God,” she said.

There were bodies all over the alley, all of them Elite.

David had already reached the first fallen warrior and was checking for a pulse, but she knew by the look on his face that they were all dead.

Miranda counted seven total, three back in the alley and four in the middle of the pavement. The way two of them lay, limbs bent at unnatural angles with blood pooled around them, suggested they’d fallen from a height, but each one was run through with at least one stake.

The two other bodies had been shot full of crossbow bolts.

She leaned over one of them and closed his eyes … she knew him. She knew all of them. They had all pledged their lives to her and to David, and now they lay slaughtered in the street and discarded like trash.

David’s voice was hard as he spoke into his com: “I need a body retrieval team to these coordinates immediately.” He shook his head and said to Miranda, “The signal’s weak here for some reason. I hope that went through.”

“On our way, Sire.”

“Good.”

Miranda stood in the midst of the bodies, turning in a circle, trying to understand; there must have been an ambush, but why? Jeremy’s thugs had never done anything like this. They caused mayhem and then disappeared, almost always attacking humans to draw out as many Elite as possible and keep them all busy. What had they accomplished here?

“Where’s Faith?” she asked, panic seizing her heart. “Do you have her signal?”

David stared hard at his phone as if willing the screen to change. “No … she’s not here … I can’t raise her anywhere.”

Miranda put her hands over her eyes and then pushed her hair back from her face. “She’s dead,” she said, choking on the words. “If she’s not showing up …”

“Wait!” David interrupted. “I’m getting something … there she is! She’s alive. And she’s half a mile from here, in a building on Ninth Street.” He looked up at her. “There are at least twenty other vampires in that building.”

“She’s bait,” Miranda said. “They want us to come for her. We’ve got to get at least that many Elite down here.”

David was already summoning as many teams as they still had intact to the location, and they headed for the building themselves; Miranda was glad he hadn’t suggested another Mist. She needed a few more minutes before doing it again, or she’d probably pass out.

“What’s the plan?” Miranda asked. “Charge in, swords blazing, and get ourselves killed?”

“No … let me get a schematic of the building … stop here.”

They ducked behind a moving truck that was parked across the street from the building, and Miranda took a moment to look over the situation: It was three stories tall, one of the older, more run-down structures in this part of town; the ground floor was a boarded-up restaurant or bar of some kind, and most likely the upper floors had once been apartments. It looked like it had been empty for some time.

She saw shadows moving outside—guards. She edged back behind the truck, farther into the darkness.

“All right,” David said, speaking both to her and to the team leader who was gathering the troops out of sight nearby. “Faith is on the ground floor, in the back. There are vampires scattered throughout the building, but most are on the first and second floors. There are five on the roof, one at each corner and another in the middle—assume those are crossbows. I want one team approaching from the east and another from the west, and the rest concentrating on the front of the building to draw as many of them away from Faith as possible. The Queen and I will go in the back. As soon as we have her, I’ll send the signal to fall back.”

“Yes, Sire. We’ll be ready to go in in two minutes.”

“Attack when ready,” David replied. “I’ll be monitoring.”

He took a quick glance at the building and then moved back to stand next to Miranda. “We’ve got four full teams and two partials with members who were injured tonight—it’s the best we can do on such short notice, but it should be enough. I’m not picking up any signals going in or out of the building—no remote detonators, not even a cell phone call. How do you want to go in?” he asked.