Dead Spots (32 page)

Dropping into a roll, Jesse crawled over to Scarlett, Hess right behind him, and she looked up and nodded in a moment of perfect understanding. She thrust the Taser into his hand, and Jesse turned and managed to flick it on just as Hess’s hand closed around his throat. Jesse felt the secondary volt run through Hess’s fingers and into his own neck, but by the time he registered it, Hess had gone limp, crumbling into a puddle six inches from Scarlett’s sneakers.

The girl—Corry—cried out in fear and anger, and clutched at Scarlett with her good hand.

“It’s okay, it’s okay,” Scarlett soothed, and Jesse looked around the patio.

Hugo the vampire was dead, and the cowboy guy was clicking an empty gun at his chest over and over, presumably trying to destroy his heart. The two women had moved to the foot of the long oval table and were wrestling on the ground, paying no attention to either modesty or fairness. They didn’t fight like girls in movies—both women had kicked off their shoes and were doing their damnedest to land punches, though there was also more than a little ripping out of long hair. Beatrice had a long line of blood bisecting her face. Next to the patio doors, Dashiell and Carlos were circling each other with wary, fearful eyes. Both of their clothes were torn, and blood dripped from a gash on Carlos’s torso. The air was filled with Ariadne’s taunts and everyone’s heavy, labored breathing. As though they weren’t used to it, Jesse thought.

“Why are they still human?” Jesse whispered to Scarlett, nodding down toward the women. “Aren’t they out of your range?”

“It’s her,” she said, looking at Corry. “She’s too upset; it’s making her perimeter expand.”

“Let’s get out of here while they’re all distracted,” Jesse said, moving toward Corry.

She whimpered, clutching Scarlett harder, and he felt like an unspeakable tool.
Yeah, move quickly toward the scared girl with the broken arm
, he scolded himself.

But Scarlett was shaking her head. “I can’t go,” she said quietly. “You have to take her out of here.”

“What? Why?”

“Beatrice,” Scarlett said, nodding down toward the other end of the table. “She can’t fight Ariadne unless they’re both human; Ariadne’s way too powerful. I can’t let her die.”

Jesse cursed in Spanish.

“She’s a vampire!” “She’s also kind of my friend. And I can save her.” She met his eyes. “Get Corry out of here; get her to safety. Check on her family.
Please
, Jesse.”

He searched her face for a long moment, then sighed and nodded.

Scarlett saw his acquiescence and bent her head to whisper in Corry’s ear. Jesse heard her say, “He’s a good man, honey, and he’s going to get you out of here. He won’t hurt you, I swear to God.”

Corry sobbed, nodding, and Jesse handed Scarlett the Taser and gently gathered Corry into his arms.

“Go,” Scarlett said, and he gave her one more look and limped toward the door.

In the kitchen, Jesse staggered toward the interior door and tried to get his bearings. “Albert!” he hollered impatiently, and he was surprised to see Albert actually come running. “How do I get out of here?” he demanded.

“Go down this hallway, take the last left, and the first right after that puts you in the foyer.” Albert pointed.

“Give me my gun.”

The vampire hesitated.

“Take the ammo, Albert, just give me the damned gun!”

“Okay, okay.” Albert fumbled the clip out of Jesse’s police-issue Glock and handed it over, grip first.

“Thanks. Go help your master. You might get there in time to look like you’re actually trying.”

“Fuck you,” Albert said, but he took off running back into the kitchen. Jesse watched him go, said a prayer for Scarlett, and fled the house with Corry.

As soon as Jesse was through the door, I bolted across the patio, running parallel to the table on the opposite side from where Dashiell and the vampire I didn’t know were still fighting. I pushed hard, putting all my years of running into the sprint. In a snatch of conversation, I heard Dashiell call the other vampire a dishonorable pawn—who talks like that?—but I didn’t slow down as I passed the two men. As I hurried toward Beatrice, I saw both of the women jerk suddenly, their faces beginning to glow with power as Corry moved out of range, and I sprinted the last few steps as fast as I’ve ever run. Just as Ariadne recovered and turned on Beatrice again, I got close enough to get both of them back within my radius. Behind me, I heard the two male vampires cry out as I got far enough away again. They would be finishing their fights as vampires, God help us. I hoped Dashiell was up for it.

As I ran up, Beatrice recovered from becoming human again, a beat faster than Ariadne, and scrambled to her feet. She flashed me a grateful look and jumped back as Ariadne bellowed with fury. The goth girl rose and lowered her head like a bull’s, charging straight for Beatrice. Positioned behind her, I saw what Bea couldn’t—a long, wicked-looking sliver of glass clutched in Ariadne’s hand. The charge was just a distraction. “No!” I yelled, but I was too late. Ariadne tackled Beatrice and drove the long piece of glass into her stomach, angling up to get the heart.

Ariadne’s hand was bleeding hard from the edges, but she must have found her mark—Beatrice dropped like a stone in water, a tangled Ariadne falling with her. I realized that I was just standing there, and ran forward, grabbing Ariadne’s wrist and dragging her off Beatrice. Ariadne crouched on all fours, panting, as I turned back.

“Bea? Bea!” I yelled, but Beatrice’s eyes didn’t so much as flutter in response. “Fuck,” I groaned, and beside me, Ariadne began to cackle. I heard Dashiell screaming behind me, and the other vampire yelling in response, and then both of their cries were cut off suddenly as my temper flared and I felt the barriers of my power begin to swell. And swell.

The vampires behind me were human again, too, and I heard the sharp pop of a gunshot behind me. I turned and saw Dashiell standing over Hugo’s body, holding the dead vamp’s gun. It was pointed at the vampire he’d been fighting, who was crumpled on the ground. I could see the blood from this far away.

I didn’t register any of that, though, because something was happening inside me. The edges of my aura had grown and grown and still wanted more ground. I felt it all, in that moment—my rage, my guilt, my sorrow for my parents, all of it rose and rose within me, and I poured it into my power, into the circle that had ceased to be a circle at all. Then I looked to Ariadne, who gazed up at me in sudden fear, and I turned that power toward her.

And then something broke inside me, and I felt a warm rush of blood from my nose as the world went dark.

When I woke up, I could hear rain pattering against the window.
Weird
, I thought sleepily. Then I opened my eyes, squinting them into focus, and realized that I was lying down, that I wasn’t wearing my clothes, and that I was in an unfamiliar bed, in that order. As my mind began to clear, I noticed the details—the disinfectant smell, the squeaking of tennis shoes on linoleum, the generic decor—and put together that I was in a hospital room. If it sounds as if I came to this realization very slowly...Well, I did.

“‘Lo?” I croaked, my voice hoarse with disuse.

“Scar?” I turned my head left and recognized Eli, his face worried and pleased at the same time. “Are you really awake?”

“God, I hope not.”

He laughed, much more than was warranted, and reached over to take my hand. “Oh, man, you had us worried.”

“Why?”

“It’s Wednesday afternoon, Scarlett. You’ve been asleep for three days.”

“I have?” I tried to sit up in bed, then immediately regretted it. “What happened? Where’s Corry? Is Beatrice okay?”

“Whoa, whoa, whoa. Hang on, there. They said you had some kind of seizure or something at Dashiell’s and passed out while a bunch of vampires were fighting. Dashiell dragged you away
from Beatrice, and she turned vampire again and healed from her wounds.

“Is Dashiell still gonna kill me?”

He frowned. “I don’t think so, or he wouldn’t have gotten you to the hospital.”

“
Dashiell
brought me to the hospital?”

“Yeah.”

“Corry?”

“The girl? I talked to your friend the cop—he’ll be here after his shift, by the way; we’ve been trading off—and he said she was fine. She had to get a cast on her arm, but her family was okay. When that guy went to the hotel for them, Corry ran out to meet him so he wouldn’t mess with her mom and brother. Pretty ballsy move for a fifteen-year-old, if you ask me.” He smiled. “She’s a really nice kid, Scar. I can see why you wanted to protect her. Oh”—his brow furrowed a little—“if I talked to you first, Cruz wanted me to tell you that he took care of Corry’s tape. He said you would know what that meant.”

It took me a second, but I figured it out: Jesse had destroyed the tape that Jared Hess had used to blackmail Corry. Thank God.

“S’wrong with me?”

His eyes flickered with worry. “I’m not sure. The doctors aren’t, either, it sounds like. I’ll call them in a second, but there’s something else you should know first.” He took a deep breath, and his face looked...almost nervous.

“What is it?” I asked.

“Uh...What do you feel?”

“What do you—Oh. Oh, wow,” I said as I finally noticed that I couldn’t feel him in my radius. I closed my eyes and concentrated. My eyelids flew open. “I can’t feel anything. You’re still a were. Did I...Am I broken?”

He shrugged. “Dashiell says no. He told Will it’ll kind of...grow back. I think he’s telling the truth—you still don’t smell.”
He smiled, a little shyly. “But without it, you’re vulnerable, which is why Cruz and I have been taking turns being here. He fixed his schedule to work days this week, so he’s in at night and I’m here now.” Eli’s face darkened a little. “Dashiell stopped to check on you a couple of times, but Jesse didn’t leave him alone with you.” He grinned then, remembering something. “He pulled some cop language on the nurses, got them to let him stick around after visiting hours. They were kind of fawning over him.”

“Okay, okay,” I said, trying to take all that in. What the hell had happened to me?

“Here”—Eli reached over the arm guard and pushed the little red button to call the nurse—“we better tell them that you’re awake.”

The nurse came in to check on me, and a few minutes later, a balding, fiftyish man in a white coat strode into the room, too. An embroidered patch on his coat read,
Dr. Lipowitz
. I glanced at Eli to make sure we were comfortable with this guy, and he gave me a little nod and slid back in his chair to give the doctor room. Vetted.

“How are we feeling?” Lipowitz asked me, pulling out a little flashlight. He shone it into my eyes while I squinted.

I hate it when doctors use the word
we
. “Hate to speak for you, but I’m doing better.”

Eli made a tiny sound like a snort, but Lipowitz frowned. Not a joker. “Any headaches?”

“Just a little one. What happened to me?”

He sat back in the chair, tucking the flashlight back in his coat pocket. “To be honest, Ms. Bernard, we’re not really sure. You appear to have had a concussion, but there’s no trauma to your head.”

“A coma?” I asked, still working on arranging words properly.

He shook his head. “No, not technically. According to your MRI, your brain was simply overwhelmed.” I must have looked confused, or maybe he just really liked lecturing. “Think of the brain as sort of an electrical outlet,” he went on. “Yours just sort
of...shorted out. We’d like to have you sign some forms allowing us to study your MRI further, and possibly even publish our findings.”

I thought about that. It would be kind of interesting to know if there was something physically different about my brain, something that caused my nullness. Could I have it removed, like a tumor? But then it occurred to me that if there
was
something really different about my brain, then that could create a lot of fuss and attention that I didn’t need.

I shook my head, rather weakly. I felt very tired. “No, thank you,” I said.

I’d thought that was pretty polite, but the doctor got a little huffy about it. When his attempts to persuade me failed, and after Eli had started to get upset and suggested where the doc could put his studies, Lipowitz finally left. Which worked out well, because my eyelids were closing anyway. The last thing I was aware of as I drifted off was Eli squeezing my hand.

I didn’t dream.

When I woke up again, darkness had fallen outside the window on my left. Jesse was asleep in the uncomfortable-looking armchair by the window. I half smiled. He looked so cute with his head bent all crooked. I slowly turned my head to the right—and saw Dashiell sitting in the chair next to my bed, looking calm and composed.

I may have let out a bit of a squeak. I swallowed and started again. “Are you here to kill me?”

“No, Scarlett.” His face softened a little, and I let myself relax. “I owe you a debt of gratitude for saving Beatrice. I know I am not what one would call benevolent. But Beatrice...She is my heart.”

I nodded, which hurt way less this time. “And Jesse?” I moved my head back to him as quickly as I could.
He
is
sleeping, right?
I thought with sudden panic.

“I pressed his mind to sleep for a few hours so we can speak. But yes, he can live, too, for now,” Dashiell said seriously. Vampires
have no concept of how silly they sound sometimes. “He has not spoken about our world to anyone, as far as we can tell, and he may turn out to be useful. He was certainly helpful in disposing of Mr. Hess.”

“Huh?”

His brow furrowed. There was a little bit of a
pull
from his eyes, and I looked away quickly. I had to get used to avoiding vampires’ gazes.

“I apologize. I thought you’d been told. Jared Hess’s body was found in his bait shop three days ago. Mr. Hess had shot himself after writing out a full confession to the killings in La Brea Park.” He smiled wanly. “Your pet policeman picked up the anonymous tip that led the police to the scene.”

So squeaky-clean Jesse was willing to let another human being die without getting a trial—granted, a psychotic murderer, but still. Interesting. I would have expected to feel a little smug about that, but I mostly just felt guilty. I was too exhausted to think too much about that right now, so I set it aside for later consideration.