The Bloody City (4 page)

Occam watched placidly.

“Is this our punishment for interloping?” Sam asked.

“Did you think you’d get out of here without so much as a slap on the wrist?”

Sam yanked Zack, snarling and struggling, off June. Belle lay sprawled on the floor, but she sprang swiftly to her knees. June’s skin seemed to have turned to goo, and Zack pulled strands of it away as he went. She clutched at the air. Her insides burned.

Sam flung Zack against the opposite wall, between the TV and the chair Belle had been sitting in. As he slumped to the floor, he locked eyes with June, and she jerked forward, her heart jumping into her throat. Zack leaped up and sprang toward her, but Sam checked him with an elbow to the chin. Zack hit the floor beside his sister.

“Call them off, Occam!” Sam swiped Belle with his leg as she tried to get up, sending her crashing back to the floor.

“They’re hungry, Sam. Not for blood, though.”

Zack had gotten back to his feet. June tried to get up and go to him. However, Sam flung himself at the couch and landed in a heavy heap on top of her. June squirmed beneath him, her senses filled with Zack, everything in her body churning, wanting. She would burst into flame if she didn’t get to him. Sam reached down to June’s side, whipped around, and jerked his arm straight out. He had taken June’s gun and he trained it on the two vampires charging at the couch. They immediately stopped.

“Stay back,” Sam warned. “Stay the fuck back. I know how to hit a vital organ.”

They remained in place, though Zack’s eyes were hard and glittering and fixed on June. He flexed his fingers at his sides. June balled her fists against Sam’s chest and tried to push him off, but her right arm was too weak.

“Get off me!”

Sam kept her pinned with his weight across her hips. He kept the gun pointed at the two. “You’re gonna hate me for this later,” he said to her. “But I’m saving your life right now.”

Sam jammed his thigh up between her legs. June convulsively locked her legs around it and began humping, wet and trembling with arousal, eager for anything to give her stimulation. Sparks shot into her stomach, raced up and down her back. She blanked out everyone else in the room apart from Zack, whom she focused on with desperation.

Sam leaned over, his hair brushing her cheek. “I hope this is enough. I don’t want to violate you.” He whispered, “I’m sorry.”

Zack seethed. His sister retreated a few steps. Sam still had the gun pointed at them. Occam hadn’t moved from his chair.

June remained locked in the intense grip of need. Her insides ached as she slid against the firm, hard length of Sam’s thigh. She wished her jeans would disappear. She was too hot, too aroused, tense and filled up with an energy like her skin would burst at any moment, paralyzed apart from the rhythm of her hips. Her orgasm built sharp and hard, and she wailed—in anguish, in pleasure, she wasn’t sure—when the tension finally broke and she came, thrashing beneath Sam’s body. She had soaked through her jeans. She had probably soaked his.

As the tremors subsided, her head cleared. The heat trapped in her skin seemed to radiate off. The tension gripping her muscles subsided. Zack stepped back, his chest heaving.

Coming back to reality sucked. Her entire body shook, her crotch was soaked, and she lay prone underneath Sam, who studied her with actual concern in his eyes, making the situation even worse. His hair brushed her neck and jaw, and it smelled like the shampoo they’d all been using for months. A small comfort, somehow.

“Oh God,” she said, her voice small and quiet. The vodka churned in her stomach.

Sam lifted off her and stood. He walked over to Zack and jammed the barrel of the gun against his temple.

“I should paint this room with your brains,” he said, low and fierce. “See if you survive that, vampire.”

Occam cleared his throat. “You won’t leave here alive. Just an FYI, Sam.”

Sam still held the gun to Zack’s head.

June struggled into a sitting position. “Sam, it’s not worth it. Let’s just go.”

Zack leered at Sam. “You smell like her pussy.”

Sam dropped the gun to his side; then he brought it up in a swift arc and across Zack’s face. A sickening crunch sounded, and blood sprayed and splattered across the floor. Zack collapsed to his knees, hands to his face, yowling.

Sam’s eyes burned with rage. “We’re walking out of here now,” he said to Occam. “And if you try to stop us, I might die, but I’ll take your sorry bullet-riddled ass with me.”

June and Sam sat in an empty car on the night owl red line L train. June had learned all about public transportation in Chicago, especially at night, since that was the only safe time for needed excursions or clandestine meetings. The car was empty so they didn’t have to disguise themselves. She’d held hands with girl Sam on the way there—for his power extended to others via touch—while he disguised her as a young man. He released her once they were safely inside the District, allowing her to be herself so she could meet with Occam.

They sat silent, June awkward in the aftermath of their vampire rendezvous. She still buzzed with the energy Zack had ignited in her.

The car wobbled along. The click of the rails and the city lights sliding by in the darkness calmed her.

“You all right?” Sam finally asked.

She nodded.

“I’m sorry,” he said. “Sex witches can be vile creatures. They get you hot and bothered and suck the sexual energy out of you. It makes you weak and vulnerable. Over time, it can really damage you, make you horribly sick. Even kill you.”

Cindy was a sex witch. June had never feared her, not for her supernatural abilities, anyway—she was kind of crazy on her own—but maybe she should.

“Do you think they would’ve—could’ve—killed us?” June asked.

“I think they would’ve weakened us so Occam could keep us as his playthings. And then, yes, perhaps eventually killed us.”

She stared out the window across from them.

“I’m sorry,” he said again, “that I had to do that to you.”

“You didn’t do anything. I did…all the doing.” She cringed. Too much embarrassment, too soon.

“I won’t tell anyone. I won’t tell Micha.”

“Thanks. And thanks for saving me from getting my life sucked out through my vagina. I’m glad Belle didn’t get the better of you.” She paused. “She couldn’t bewitch you? You don’t like black chicks or something?”

“I knew what was happening, from the second he got in your lap. I don’t like evil murderesses. And I don’t like vampires.”

June could get behind that.

“I hate vampires.” He slipped down on the plastic seat, legs splayed. “I’d cut off a vampire’s head before I’d allow one in the Paranormal Alliance.”

“I might have called you an extremist before, but I can totally see why you feel that way now.”

“I can’t believe Occam is a goddamn shapeshifter. There’s not a whole lot of us.”

“There’s not a whole lot of Sirens, either. I’m pretty glad he’s not one of us.”

“This is what we explained to you, though. They don’t turn normals. And the ones with the rarest abilities float to the top, not to mention the ones with the strongest abilities. It’s a pissing contest.” He fell silent a moment. “Are you impressed by them?”

“Impressed? With what?” She shifted and crossed her legs. “The drugs? The drinking? The utter filth? Their penchant for trying to rape and kill people?”

“They live like pigs, don’t they? It’s a result of their physiology, actually. They’re not susceptible to germs and illnesses, or overdoses. They don’t have to be clean or careful. When you can’t really die, you tend to get careless.”

“It sounds like an existence that would get really old, really fast.”

“I guess it’s better than our existence right now.”

“Doesn’t mean I’m impressed by them.”

“Unfortunately, they’re very strong and very well-connected. We need them for this.”

She took in his profile. He was handsome, his jaw strong, his nose big, but it fit his face. His features were chiseled and blatantly masculine. Maybe the remnant of Zack’s power made her fixate.

He narrowed his dark eyes at her. “What?”

“Why did you send me to talk to the vampires?”

“We went over that.”

“You really thought they’d take pity on someone, even someone who’s been victimized by the Institute? They don’t seem to give a damn about non-vampires.”

“Well they certainly wouldn’t have taken pity on me or Aaron. You were holding a better hand.” He sat up on the seat. “Don’t let what happened haunt you. Vampires love to mess with people. It could have been much worse. They actually did take pity on us. They let us walk out of there.”

June resisted the urge to press. The people she trusted most couldn’t have possibly used her as fodder.

They had to get off the train and take a bus to Hyde Park, where they were hiding out. They’d left Aaron’s downtown penthouse before the end of winter, since downtown wasn’t the ideal place for slipping in and out. Aaron owned a house in the quiet, residential, and university-focused area of Hyde Park where people were unlikely to be looking for the city’s two biggest villains—or heroes, depending on whom the media asked.

The house wasn’t in his real name, and Aaron wasn’t there. Sam and Aaron had agreed not to hide out in the same place, so if one of them was captured, the other remained free. They actually didn’t know where Aaron was—another safety measure. Most news outlets believed Aaron and Sam weren’t in the city. The favorite bit of speculation at the moment was they had fled to Canada.

The bus wasn’t empty so they had to disguise themselves, but the streets were quiet and deserted in the pre-dawn darkness, and the walk from the bus stop to the house proved uneventful. The house where they were hiding was simple, middle class, and non-descript, though canvassed with a sophisticated security system. Robbie would have been proud of their paranoia.

Despite being around five AM, all the lights were on in the house. As soon as they started up the narrow cement walkway—having tripped the beams at the gate—the front door opened. June hadn’t reached the porch steps yet when someone swept her up in big, strong arms.

“You’re safe,” Micha whispered against her hair. “Thank God.”

She squeezed him. Sam climbed the steps.

“This has been a long night.” Micha drew back, his arms still around her. His eyes glistened in the light from the door.

Another person walked down the steps, and Micha released her.

“I’m so glad to see you in once piece.” Her brother Jason hugged her tightly. “How were the vampires?”

June huffed against his shoulder. “Complete assholes. Not a surprise.”

“I’m glad everyone is happy I’m safe!” Sam called out.

Despite his griping, inside the house, Muse, Sam’s ironic little bodyguard, gripped him by the arms, relief evident on her face. She wore a white terrycloth robe. She had to tilt her head back to look at him. June considered her a sister in shortness.

“I’m glad you’re back,” Muse said. “I hate when you get out of my hearing range.” Muse was a powerful telepath. So powerful, it was killing her.

The living room where they stood was spacious, sconces on the walls filling the space with a soft yellow glow. A wall of TV and stereo equipment dominated one side of the room.

“So what’s the news?” Jason asked. They had all waited what seemed like ages for the results of tonight.

Sam pushed a hand through his hair. “Occam accepted our offer. I’m sure we’ll be hearing from him soon.”

“Good,” Micha said, but his voice was grim.

Micha had become the epitome of their seclusion. His hair had grown out shaggy, and dark roots dominated his faded blond highlights. They shared a communal pile of genderless shirts and jeans. Everything Micha wore hung from his frame and his bones stuck out at odd angles. His cheeks were hollow.

“I guess my fate is sealed,” he said. “I wanted to make a difference. Now I will.”

June clenched her jaw, forcing herself not to say anything. Sam and Aaron were using him as a pawn, and they couldn’t do anything but use him. Micha had lost his power to choose long before they’d turned him into a bargaining chip. He’d lost it when Eric Greerson injected him with the serum. He’d lost it before that, when his wife prepared him for it.

The serum worked, to an extent. Micha had experienced every paranormal ability one could name, aside from aural captivation, though they all came and went, and he could never control them. Thankfully, he didn’t seem to be infected with the vampire virus.

“God must be getting some kind of sick pleasure out of kicking us around,” June said.

“I don’t believe in God anymore.” Micha walked out of the room, toward the kitchen.

June went upstairs, to the bedroom she shared with Jason. A TV sat on the dresser, rarely turned on, because June was forced to watch the news too much downstairs.

She took off her jeans—the crotch still damp—and changed into a pair of pajama pants. She sat down on her bed, facing the window. They were usually awake at night and asleep during the day, ironically like vampires. When dawn arrived, they pulled curtains against the world, against its taunting memory and the blossom of approaching summer. They were prisoners of their own fate, and the outside world was too painful a reminder of what they’d lost. Would her life ever be normal again, or would she spend the rest of her days a fugitive, in seclusion, hiding from the sun, cursing God?

Jason entered the bedroom and crawled into his bed across the room. “Good night,” he said softly.

His voice remained raspy from the torture he’d endured at the Institute. He couldn’t speak loudly, or it would crack. It sounded ragged and guttural when he woke up, crying out from nightmares.

“I’m glad you’re safe,” he whispered. “I was worried all night.”

Safe. Was she?

She waited until Jason’s breath grew soft and even, and quietly left the room. She went downstairs. Her insides still burned, an energy that wasn’t wholly her own churning low in her gut.

She envisioned Sam on top of her, felt the pressure of his thigh between her legs. She saw the consternation on his face as he ascended the porch steps, when Micha hugged her.