Blood From a Silver Cross (Kat Redding) (17 page)

But I knew Boris wasn’t going to let me in if I buzzed—he’d be too careful for that.

I cleared my throat and pressed the button anyway. Maybe he’d decide two was indeed better than one. I heard a faint buzzing from inside, but no other sound. I didn’t see an intercom anywhere, telling me he’d have to open the door to talk to me.

I waited for a long moment and nothing happened. I glanced back at the little man. He was watching me with that grin on his face. He winked.

I glanced down the length of the hall. There were at least a half dozen doors, all closed. Who knew how many people were there?

This time, I pretended to press the buzzer. I tapped my foot, mind racing. How could I do this without anyone noticing? I looked toward Clem and decided I’d have to deal with him after all.

“I think something’s wrong with the buzzer,” I said. “He’s not answering.”

With a sigh, he put down his magazine and walked toward the door. I stepped aside, moving so I was behind him. As soon as he reached up for the button, I grabbed his wrist, spun him around, and with my other hand, grabbed the back of his head and pushed downward toward my rising knee. The impact was jarring. I let him go and he crumpled to the ground, out like a light.

No one came running out. I picked Clem up and carried him back to his chair where I set him down. Blood ran from one nostril so I tilted his head so it wouldn’t be seen by anyone coming down the hall. I stepped back and moved his head a little more until I was satisfied it looked as if he’d simply fallen asleep.

That done, I turned back to the door. It didn’t look to be all that well made. A good kick would more than likely rip it free, but it would be loud. The music thumped beneath my feet, which might mask some of the sound, but not all of it.

I tried the knob in the hopes it would be unlocked. When that didn’t work, I very nearly kicked it in, but stopped myself.

A keycard. The slot was right by the door. Boris would have one. The guy downstairs had one for the elevator. Would the guy up here have a keycard as well?

I hurried back to the unconscious man and rifled through his pockets. I found a card in his pants and prayed it would open the door. I went back, slipped it into the reader, and was rewarded with a green light and a click.

I drew my gun as I pushed the door inward. I stepped quickly inside, ready to fire if Boris made so much as a move toward me.

Turned out, he was in no condition to do much of anything.

Boris lay on the bed, still fully clothed. His head was tilted so I could see his wide, frightened eyes. He made a sort of grunting sound, but did little else. He wasn’t tied down and nothing was stuffed in his mouth, yet he was incapable of moving.

A fully clothed woman was straddling him. She glanced at me and smiled.

And then she drew the sharp serrated blade she held across Boris Stevenson’s throat, putting an end to his moviemaking days forever.

B
lood spurted across the bed and the walls.

I froze for an instant, shocked by both Boris’s death and the sight of the blood. My hunger raged inside me, tried to force me to act without thinking. I needed to feed, needed to kill.

The Left Hand woman darted from the bed and dove for her purse, pulling me back into the moment. The knife was still clutched in her hand. Blood dripped from the blade, staining the already stained carpet a deep red.

I swallowed back the hunger and sprang into motion. I knew what she had in that purse. If she got hold of another syringe, my blood could be spilled next.

The room wasn’t terribly large, so there wasn’t much distance between me and the woman. Two quick strides and I was on her. Her hand closed over the purse straps just as I yanked her back and threw her against the wall. She hit with a thump, but didn’t fall. Before she could move, I closed the short distance, grabbed her by the arm, and twisted.

The knife fell to the floor and she shrieked. “Demon spawn!” she wailed before spitting in my face. “I will not let you taint me with your filth.” She tried to swing her purse at me, but the angle was wrong. It thumped lightly on my back.

She shrieked again and dropped her purse as I grabbed her other wrist.

She was too loud. Someone had to have heard the first couple screams and if they came to investigate, I’d have more trouble to deal with. I just had to hope screams were common here or the music pulsing beneath us was loud enough to drown most of them out.

The woman grinned at me and clenched her jaw. A sudden fear swept through me. I couldn’t let her get away. She might be able to lead me to the rest of the Left Hand and there was no way I was going to lose this chance. If she had something in her mouth, a capsule in her tooth or something, she could kill herself.

I let go of her wrists, grabbed the side of her head, and cracked her skull hard against the wall. She gave me a dazed look and started to smile, so I did it again, harder.

This time, she went out.

I dropped her to the ground and quickly checked her over. Other than the knife, she didn’t appear to have a weapon on her. She was wearing shorts so tight there was no way she’d get anything inside a pocket. Her shirt showed her midriff and she wasn’t wearing a bra.

No wonder Boris had taken her in. She was eighteen, if that. She was little more than a kid, really. She had all the looks in the world and had obviously known how to use them. I wondered how many other vampires or werewolves she’d lured into rooms just like this one.

I ran my finger along the inside of her mouth. When I found nothing, I moved to check her teeth. There was nothing there as far as I could tell, but then again, I didn’t really know much about how those suicide capsules are made. I wasn’t sure if the Left Hand even used stuff like that. As far as I knew, if she’d had anything in her mouth, she might have already swallowed it.

I was tempted to shove my fingers down her throat to make her vomit, but that would take time and might wake her up. It was only a matter of time before someone saw the open door and wondered what was going on.

A gurgle from the bed brought my head around. Boris was still alive, but barely. Blood ran freely from his throat. He couldn’t do much more than keep his fading eyes on me as his life slipped away. He was completely paralyzed and probably terrified out of his mind, yet because of the stuff in the syringe, he looked almost serene.

There was a moment when compassion almost made me finish him off. Then I remembered the video with the girl and instead turned away. Boris deserved an ugly death for an ugly life.

My eyes fell on a camera next to the far wall. The little light told me it was on. I walked over to it, considered it a moment, and then smashed the damn thing into tiny little pieces. I made sure there was nothing left that anyone could come back and look at, though it would serve Boris right if his death had found its way to the Internet.

Once I was sure there’d be no visual evidence I’d ever been there, I slung the Left Hand woman’s purse over my shoulder, shoved her knife inside, and then hoisted her to her feet. There were no windows in the room and I imagined most of the rooms upstairs were like that. It was unlikely I’d find a way out that way. Chances were good the elevator was the only way in or out so Avril’s staff could keep an eye on their patrons.

I closed room 2’s door behind me and dragged the woman to the elevator. I slid the card I’d taken from Clem through the reader and then slipped it back into his pocket as the door opened. I dragged the woman inside and as the doors closed and we started downward, I tried to come up with a plan.

I wasn’t sure how I was going to manage to get out without drawing attention to myself. The woman was quite clearly unconscious and more than one person knew she’d gone upstairs with Boris. They also knew I’d gone in search of him. If I left with the woman he was supposed to be brutalizing, someone would surely notice. I was just thankful she wasn’t heavy. I could walk quickly and hope no one would pay too much attention.

The elevator came to a halt. I plastered on an embarrassed smile as I dragged the woman out. Yancy’s eyebrows rose as we emerged.

“She couldn’t handle it,” I said. “I’m taking her out for some air before heading back in. We’re going to try someone with a little more stamina, I think.”

His brow started to furrow, but quickly smoothed out. “Whatever,” he said with a sigh. “Isn’t like she’s the first.” He sniffed at her. “At least this one’s still alive. The last didn’t make it more than five minutes before stroking. And I don’t mean that in a good way.” He winked.

I bared my teeth at him in what I hoped looked like a grin. I turned away before he saw the anger in my eyes. I’d have to remember to come back for him someday.

Surprisingly, no one so much as looked at me as I worked my way through the room with the unconscious woman on my arm. It must not have been an uncommon occurrence in a place like this. I could see multiple men and women who looked as if they were about to collapse. There were probably dozens of people dragged through the room on a nightly basis.

We made it outside without incident. The man at the door gave me a surprised look, so I gave him the same excuse I’d told Yancy. I doubted he had any idea I’d been in to see Boris, but it was best I kept it simple. He just grunted at me and looked away; it wasn’t any of his business.

I’d thought I’d run into trouble getting the woman back to the parking garage where I’d parked my Honda, but not a single person stopped us. We got some pretty odd looks, but nothing to be concerned about. Once I got to the garage, I frowned at the motorcycle. I had a problem.

“I need a fucking car.”

I had no idea how in the hell I was going to get her to the Den. If she woke up while I was on the road, her struggles would probably tip us over. A crash wouldn’t kill me, but it might her.

I didn’t even have a cell phone to call Jeremy or Jonathan to come get her. I was sure I could find a pay phone somewhere, but that meant dragging her back out onto High Street and wasting more time. I had no idea how long she’d stay unconscious. I’d hit her head against the wall pretty damn hard, so I was hoping it would be a while.

Then again, I didn’t even know Jonathan
or
Jeremy’s number to call them. So even if I found a phone, there wasn’t much I could do with it.

With a sigh, I heaved the Left Hand woman onto my bike and slid onto the Honda behind her. I had her sitting up so I could use my arms to keep her from sliding off. I could see and turn as long as I didn’t drive too fast. I just had to hope she didn’t wake up before I got there.

She snorted as the motorcycle started up, but otherwise didn’t stir. I tested my range of motion, prayed I wouldn’t splatter us all over the highway, and then took off out of the garage. I very nearly tipped making the first turn, but quickly righted myself.

I sped past Avril’s without a glance, putting the club and the dead filmmaker behind me. By the time I was done with the Left Hand woman, she was going to wish I’d killed her too.

I
have no idea how I managed to get to the Den parking garage without crashing into something. The damn woman kept sliding to the side. She nearly knocked my hand from the bike once, which would have dumped her unceremoniously onto the road and more than likely sent me into a sideways crash.

But somehow, I made it. I parked in the garage and then picked the woman up like a child. Her purse swung behind me, smacking me in the back of my legs as it kept sliding down to my elbow. How in the world could women carry these things all of the time? A part of me was glad I never lived the sort of life to need one. I’d have gone insane in minutes.

By the time I reached the Den, my arms were aching and I was ready to throw the damn purse into the nearby lake. The woman hadn’t started out heavy, but I was wearing down. The adrenaline from finding her had worn off long ago. Now, all I wanted to do was get her inside and into a cell before she woke up.

I reached the top of the stairs and the doors opened for me. Pablo was glowering as usual, but he moved aside to let me pass through without us touching. I think he wanted to say something smart, but wisely held his tongue. I was in no mood for his insults tonight.

As soon as the Den doors closed behind me, the office door opened and Jonathan emerged, flanked by Keira.

“Who is it?” he asked, hurrying my way.

“I don’t know her name,” I said. “But I caught her killing a vampire. She’s a member of the Left Hand.”

His eyes widened for a heartbeat before he took her from me.

“Let’s get her downstairs.”

Keira led the way into the office and pressed the button to open the hidden door. Jonathan took the stairs first, walking sideways so as not to crack the woman’s skull against the wall as he went. I followed close behind him, hoping Keira would stay upstairs. I didn’t need her wolfing out and accidentally killing the Left Hand woman before we got any useful information out of her.

Of course, the werewolf couldn’t resist and followed us down.

“What happened?” Jonathan asked as he wedged open a cell door with his foot. He carried the woman inside, set her carefully onto the floor, then backed out. He closed the door and, using a key in his pocket, locked it.

“I was on the trail of someone,” I said, not wanting to mention who I was after or why. “When I reached him, she was there. I knocked her out after she killed him.”

Jonathan frowned. He crossed his arms and studied the frail thing. “Are you sure she’s of the Left Hand?”

I handed him the purse. “I’m assuming her kit is in there. She cut the guy’s throat, but I didn’t see her use a syringe or anything. He wasn’t fighting back, so I’m pretty sure she’d already injected him by the time I showed up.”

Jonathan glanced into the purse before handing it to Keira. “Take that upstairs and go through it. Tell me if you find anything we can use to either question her or find out where she came from.”

Keira hesitated as if she didn’t want to leave before turning and walking away, purse clutched tightly in her hands.

“She doesn’t look like much,” he said as soon as Keira was gone. “I can’t imagine her killing anyone.”

I had to admit, he was right. She looked so tiny, it was hard to imagine her overpowering anyone. Then again, she’d had the help of her syringe. I leaned down a little and studied her face. She reminded me of someone, but I couldn’t place the face. I wondered if I’d seen her around town before.

The woman groaned and started to stir. I straightened and waited for her to rouse herself. I had quite a few questions I wanted to ask her and I wanted to do so before she had all of her wits about her.

She came to with a sudden jolt. She sat up, grabbed her head, and groaned. She looked at us through eyes barely open. She smiled through her pain and worked her way to her feet. She was wobbly, but determined. The look of zealotry I’d seen in every Left Hand person I’d ever seen was in her eye.

“Who are you?” Jonathan asked, taking the lead.

“Demon spawn.” She spat through the bars. “I will not speak with your kind.”

“Just tell me your name,” he said with a kind smile. “I’m not going to hurt you. If you have family, I could call them, let them know you’re okay.”

She laughed. “I know your kind. By His hand, I will smite thee.”

Jonathan gave her a sympathetic look. “You won’t be smiting anyone from inside there.” He nodded toward the bars.

She snarled and crossed herself. She backed into the far corner and pointedly looked away.

I took a step forward, but Jonathan touched my arm to stop me. He shook his head slightly and I backed off. I really wanted to know how she knew what I was the moment she’d seen me, but it could wait.

“I’ll see if I can find you something to eat or drink,” Jonathan said. “Is there anything else you’d like?”

She spat on the ground again in answer.

“Let’s go,” Jonathan whispered to me, turning toward the stairs.

I wanted to protest. I’d caught the woman, so I deserved a chance to interrogate her. I wanted the Left Hand stopped just as much as anyone—if not more so—and this was the perfect opportunity to learn something about them. All we had to do was get her to talk. I was sure I could break her.

Jonathan cleared his throat and I turned to follow him. He wanted to try a different tactic, I was sure. Perhaps kindness would get her to see not all supes are bad people. I doubted it, but the Den was Jonathan’s territory. It was his call.

We went back upstairs in silence. Keira was sitting at the desk with the purse’s contents spilled out before her.

“Anything?” Jonathan asked, closing the door behind him.

“Just this.” Keira held out a plastic case that could have been a large makeup case. The serrated knife lay on the corner of the desk.

Jonathan took it and snapped it open. Instead of makeup, two filled syringes sat inside. He snapped the case closed and tossed it back onto the desk.

“Any sort of personal identification we can use? ID? Credit cards?”

Keira shook her head. “Not even a driver’s license or a receipt.”

He sighed and walked over to the door. He poked his head outside. “Pablo, bring some water and food to take down to our guest.” He closed the door and with another sigh, walked over to the desk to stand beside Keira. She instantly reached out to touch his hand.

Something in my gut clenched, as did my jaw. With everything that was happening, I’d almost forgotten about how much I didn’t like the female were.

“Where’s Nathan?” I asked. I’d much rather deal with his snarky comments than watch Keira touch Jonathan.

“Busy,” he said, looking distracted. “He should be back later.”

“So you know where he is?”

He looked up at me. “Of course.”

“And what about her?” I nodded my head toward Keira.

She stood, hand never leaving Jonathan’s own. Her eyes narrowed, but she kept her mouth shut.

“What about her?” Jonathan asked, looking annoyed.

“Do you always know where she is?”

“This isn’t a prison,” Jonathan said. I could tell he was growing angry. He kept clenching and unclenching his jaw and there was the faintest twinge of yellow to his eye. “She can come and go as she pleases, just like you.”

“And what about three nights ago?”

Jonathan frowned. “What about it?”

“Where was she then?”

The door opened and Pablo stepped inside, carrying a tray with a plastic cup of water and some tuna on a paper plate on it. He didn’t look my way as he walked past. Keira pressed the button to open the hidden door for him.

“Let’s continue this upstairs,” Jonathan said, voice tight.

I motioned for him to lead the way and we went up to his rooms. I was pissed beyond belief and really wasn’t sure how it had happened. I had no proof Keira was the wolf who’d attacked me when I was tailing Nathan, yet I couldn’t help but hope it was. It would make things so much easier. I’d know whom to blame.

“Now, what is all of this about?” Jonathan said as we entered his sitting room. He crossed his arms and leaned against the wall.

Unfortunately, Keira came in and moved to stand on the other side of the door. I really wish she would’ve stayed behind.

“I was out three nights ago and came across Nathan,” I said.

“Before I could talk to him, a werewolf attacked me. She reminded me of Keira.”

“I never attacked you,” Keira said, taking a step my way. Her eyes flashed yellow.

I smiled at her, daring her to attack. If she shifted, I’d know for sure whether she was responsible or not. I’d yet to see her fully wolf out.

“When was this exactly?” Jonathan asked, brow furrowed in concentration.

“Three nights ago.”

“Then it couldn’t be her,” he said.

“And why the fuck not?”

“Because she was with me.”

My heart just about plummeted through the floor. My legs were weak and I rested my hand on the back of a chair to steady myself. “Oh.”

“We were—”

“I don’t want to know,” I said, cutting him off.

“I—”

“I said, I don’t want to know.” I turned away, angry at myself for caring. If Jonathan tried to tell me they were just sitting around talking, I’d probably rip out his throat.

Jonathan gave a frustrated sigh. “I’m going to go down and talk to our guest,” he said. “I want you to stay here in case I need you. Can you do that for me?”

I very nearly told him to shove it up his ass, but nodded instead. I couldn’t let my own personal issues get in the way of what needed to be done.

“Keira.” He motioned for her to leave ahead of him. She glared at me for a moment before storming out of the room. I had to give her credit; she could have lost control and shifted. It would have been more than enough reason to kill her.

“Kat,” Jonathan said, stopping just outside the sitting room doors. “I’m sorry for all of this. I’ll figure out who attacked you.”

“Don’t worry about it,” I said. “I’ll take care of it.”

“Please . . .”

I looked over at him and saw pain painted all over his face. Something stirred deep inside of me. Looking at him like that brought all kinds of pains and fears to mind. I suddenly became terrified I’d lose him, that I’d be forced to deal with all of this on my own.

I don’t know what compelled me, if it was something outside my influence or those parts of myself that I tried so damn hard to hide, but the next thing I knew, I was walking briskly across the room. I stopped right in front of Jonathan, our faces inches apart.

He opened his mouth as if to speak.

I silenced him with a kiss.

He stood rigid against me for a moment before softening. His hands found my back and he leaned in to me, kissing me back so fiercely, our teeth nearly scraped together.

But I didn’t let up. All I wanted to do was drag him back into the room and keep him locked inside with me until the danger had passed. I wanted him to protect me as much as I wanted to protect him. If we were together, we could do that.

And then sense slammed into me. I broke the kiss, breathless. I took a step back, confused. Scared. I licked my lips and could still taste him on them.

“I’m sorry,” I said. I was shaking. I wanted to throw myself at him again.

Jonathan opened his mouth and I realized that whatever he said would probably send me over the edge. I’d end up giving myself to him, would let him do with me as he pleased.

So I did the only thing I could do to keep myself from giving in to the emotions fighting for dominance in my head.

“I can’t,” I said.

I closed the doors before he could speak.