Flight from Hell (2 page)

She'd been bitten in the femoral artery, but there was a coagulant in vampires' saliva—including mine—that slowed the flow of blood. We used it when we chose to leave our victims alive—often if a vampire was building a stable of bloodwhores. Apparently, they had chosen to keep her alive, probably for their fun and games. I also noticed bruising around her labia and inner thighs, and—with growing trepidation—I took a closer look.

Holy fuck. They'd fed from her clit. The fang marks were savage and my temper began to boil. I'd been tortured by the vampire who sired me—tortured like this, and worse. As my fury began to rise, all I could think about was finding these freaks and staking them to dust. I pulled out my phone and called Roman, but he wasn't picking up. I left a message, then went back to tucking a blanket around the woman.

As I slipped quietly out of the car, locking it behind me, I saw Camille's Lexus and Delilah's Jeep pull in behind my Mustang.

They got out and hurried over. I pointed to my car. “She's in there, and she's badly hurt. They've been toying with her for a while. Have you got stakes?” I didn't like the question, it was one that personally touched me, considering I was also a vampire, but the fact was, the only way we could take care of these freaks was to wipe them out and that meant stakes, fire, or sunlight.

“We have our emergency kits in the back. You can thank Rozurial for that.” Camille opened her trunk and pulled out a duffle bag filled with weapons. She unzipped it and pulled out five stakes and five little red balls—magical firebombs. “We have pointy sticks and fire. We can roast 'em on a spit!”

I stifled a snort. “Good. I have a couple in the back of my car. Delilah? You have pretty much the same setup?”

She nodded. “Yeah. Let's roll. Oh, by the way, Carter wants to see us when we're done.”

Carter was a friend who was also half-demon, half-Titan. He had answers when we needed them, usually.

“I want to see him, too. Camille, somebody has to stay here with the victim, to wait for the FH-CSI to get here. You're best suited for that.”

I tried to avoid saying that she'd be the most vulnerable, but that's the way it came out, regardless of my wording. But she just nodded. We were beyond the point of taking offense by now. We'd come through too much to lie to ourselves about our strengths—and our weaknesses.

“Will do. After they get here, I'll head in if you're still involved.”

Delilah and I went in, she armed with a stake rather than her dagger. By nature, I was a weapon without any extra toys. And we had flashlights, stakes, and the firebombs, although we left a couple with Camille on the off chance that the vamps might sneak up on her.

I clambered through the window. Delilah slipped in behind me, easily swinging over the broken sill. A moment later, there was a soft shuffle and one of the shadows to my right lunged forward.

“Heads up!” I whirled around.

Delilah raised the stake as she assumed battle position.

I intercepted the vampire heading toward her, even as the second fell on my back. They were hellaciously strong. I was fighting both a man and a woman.

I slammed hard against the one I'd intercepted, taking her down to the floor beneath me, even as the male vamp wrapped his arms around my throat. He couldn't break my neck, or rather—even if he did, it wouldn't affect me other than to discombobulate me. But if he could get his fangs in me, he could try to drain me until I was too weak to fight.

As the woman and I went down, I kneed her in the stomach, hard. Something cracked. Whether it was a bone or cartilage or whatnot, I wasn't sure, but I laughed as she let out a loud “Ooph.”

“Bitch,” she said with a hiss, wrapping her arms around my waist.

A second later and the male lodged against my back vanished as a shower of ash wafted up and around me. Delilah let out a low laugh. She had managed to stake him while his back was turned.

Free from his grasp, I plunged my teeth into the female vamp's neck and ripped at her jugular. She screamed as I tore a piece of flesh away from her throat, and the next moment, she vanished and a bat appeared, wavering slightly as she tried to fly away.

Delilah leapt forward, turning into Panther as she did so, and snatched the flying rodent clean out of the air, biting hard. The bat squeaked as I brought out one of the firebombs and shoved it into the creature's mouth. Delilah dropped it, and as the vampire fell to the floor, the bomb exploded, sending sparks everywhere. I jumped back, trying to avoid the sizzling shower.

As flames shot up, incinerating the vampire, they caught hold of the ragged edge of the sofa and it went up like a light. The fire spread, racing through the tinder-dry wood and detritus littered around the room. Delilah grabbed me by the arm, once again back to her normal self.

“We have to get out of here. This building's old and the wood's dry. It's going to go up like a matchstick.” She dragged me to the window, and for once, I followed without protest. The other vampires could be anywhere, and chances are they'd already fled the scene, especially if they sensed smoke and fire.

As we slipped out the window, across the street I could see the FH-CSI medic unit under the glow of a streetlamp. The woman lay on a stretcher, with an IV going in her arm. Camille was staring in horror at the smoke billowing from the building, but a look of relief swept across her face when she saw us.

Delilah held up a stake. “I retrieved this one after stabbing the vampire. I don't like to waste things.”

As I stared at it, a thought crossed my mind. “Maybe we can get some sort of read off of it—as to who was on the receiving end. We're headed toward Carter's next. He might be able to help us.”

As we crossed the street, the sound of sirens echoed in the distance. The medic unit must have called in the fire department. Camille ran over to us.

“What happened? Did you get them?”

“Two of them—but I know for a fact they were more.”

Even as I spoke, I glanced in the sky. Against the cloud cover, the shapes of five bats glided silently into the night. I thought about shifting form to follow them, but that would be foolhardy. However, now we knew there had been at least seven vampires in the building. Maybe more. Seven rogue vamps.

“How is she?” I nodded toward the stretcher.

Mallen, chief of the medical unit now that Sharah was gone, frowned. “She lost a lot of blood so we have her on a transfusion. If she dies, I don't know if she'd turn. We can't tell if she ingested any blood. However, she's beat up and bruised. I guarantee you she's been raped. Her genitals are pretty torn up down there. She's still unconscious and I'm not sure how much that has to do with her injuries, or exhaustion, or both. We'll know more once we get her into the emergency room.”

He pushed past me. “Sorry, but we've got to get a move on. She needs all the help she can get. I'll call you with anything new.”

As the ambulance sped away, I turned to Delilah and Camille. “I suppose, while we're here, we should have a look at the park.” I gave them the rundown that Roman had given me. “When I got here, I sensed energy coming from that building, and you know I don't usually sense energy the way you do. Camille, can you feel anything that might be other than vampire?”

She walked into the street—there was little to no traffic—and held out her hands toward the building. A moment later, a gust of wind, or what I thought was wind, rushed past and belted into her back, shoving her forward to land on her hands and knees. She let out a shout as Delilah ran over to help her up.

“Are you all right? Anything broken?”

“No, but fucking hell.” She brushed herself off, examining the palms of her hands, which were abraded from the asphalt. Luckily, she'd dressed for action, meaning she was wearing her Emma Peel cat suit and kitten-heeled granny boots instead of her usual corset, skirt, and stilettos. Which meant her knees were relatively unscathed.

“All I know is I felt a rush of wind and then you went flying.”

“Well, something shoved me. Hands, no less.” She turned to stare at the park. “It came from the park. I swear I heard laughter.”

Severance Park loomed in the night, the maples barren and stark against the sky. Firs towered behind them, dark silhouettes in the oncoming storm. A lone path led through wrought iron gates. I shuddered. Iron—wrought, cast, and pure—so not our friends. We were half-Fae, half-human. Even at half-blood, cast, wrought, and pure iron was anathema to us, although I would heal a lot quicker and hurt a lot less, given my vampiric nature.

The mouth of the path was overgrown and wild, reminding me of the entrance to a tunnel or cave. The vegetation hadn't been trimmed back in a long time, and weeds cracked through the pavement. The prospect of heading into the park, which stretched for several blocks, dark and overgrown, wasn't exactly on my bucket list.

“Should we?” I turned to the others.

Camille shook her head. “There's something in there, all right, but I'd rather do some research first. We don't know where the other vampires went. If they're rogues, there might be more of them. We're good, but even with you along, we can't fight off a full nest.”

“Agreed.” Delilah echoed the sentiment. “We go visit Carter, see what he wanted to talk to us about, and ask him if he knows anything about what's going on. How many deaths did you say Roman thinks have occurred?”

I frowned. “Five newly minted vampires taken down in the past week, total. Several bodies that vanished without a trace. So . . . quite a few. Somebody out there is on a killing spree, and intent on creating a nest of followers.”

“Then, I vote we adjourn and head over to Carter's.” Camille edged her way toward her Lexus, staring at the sky. “We're in for one hell of a storm, I can tell you that. It's going to break at any moment.”

After the sentient storm that had destroyed Elqaneve—the Elfin city in Otherworld—every time she mentioned the weather, I grew uneasy. But we were Earthside, and while the sentient storm was still raging across the face of our homeland, so far, it hadn't crossed between the realms.

“See you there. I hope by then Mallen will have news on the woman I found. If she lives, maybe she'll remember something that will help us.” I pulled out the keys to my Mustang. The backseat of my brand-new car was tinged with blood. So much for spotless. But then again, nothing we ever did seemed to remain in a pristine state.

As we pulled away from Severance Park, I glanced in the rearview mirror. There was a flash of green from the trees. A sickly, olive green that made my stomach turn. Yeah, something was going on there. And we were right in line to find out.

As I followed Camille's Lexus through the Broadway district, I felt a wistful tug. The Wayfarer—my bar, a few streets over—had burned to the ground about two weeks ago. Arson, actually. Eight people died, including one of my waitresses and friends—Chrysandra. The whole mess still made me sick, and even though we'd taken out the person primarily responsible, I had a lot of unresolved rage simmering at a low boil.

But I would rebuild and the Wayfarer, which had originally been a human hangout, would take on
my
style. If anything good could emerge from the arson, it was that I could rebuild from the ground up and really make the Wayfarer
my
bar.

***

When we'd first come Earthside, I'd been assigned a job as the bartender in the bar, and it had been my cover. My sisters and I work for the Otherworld Intelligence Agency. Back then we were lackeys, exiled over Earthside due to poor performances. Now, we
run
the Earthside division. We've managed to turn what was essentially a sentence of exile into a thriving success. Well, if you can call being on the front lines of a demonic war a success.

I'm Menolly, the youngest of the D'Artigo girls. And as I said, I'm a vampire. I used to be a jian-tu, a spy of sorts, for the OIA back in Otherworld, until I fell into a nest of vampires. That's where Dredge—the most vicious bloodsucker that ever walked either world—got hold of me. He tortured me in ways I can never forget, then killed and turned me. Afterward, he sent me home to destroy my family, but thanks to Camille, that little plan didn't work. The OIA took me in since the whole mess had been their fault in the first place, they rehabilitated me, and I managed to survive, sanity returning after a year.

I'm five-one, with copper-colored cornrows that are beaded with ivory. The sound of the beads clinking when I walk reminds me that I exist, that I'm more than a living shadow. I've actually managed to find love in this world, and am married to a gorgeous werepuma named Nerissa who puts up with all my bullshit. And as I said, I'm the official consort for Roman, the son of Blood Wyne. While he's my lover, Nerissa is the love of my life.

Delilah, second born, is six-one, has short, spiky blond hair, and is athletic as hell. A two-faced Were, she shifts into both a golden tabby cat and a black panther. She's grown from a naïve and timid young woman into a confidant, formidable opponent and is engaged to Shade, a Shadow Dragon. Both are servants of the Autumn Lord, one of the Harvestmen, and Delilah is his only living Death Maiden, destined to one day bear his child. Delilah had a twin sister—Arial—who died at birth. Arial comes to help us at times in her ghost leopard form.

And then there's Camille, the oldest of the three of us. Well, oldest being relative, we aren't that far apart. Camille is a Moon Witch and priestess for the Moon Mother. Curvy to the max, with an almost plump hourglass figure, her hair hangs mid-back in raven waves, and her violet eyes are flecked with silver when she's running magic. She has three husbands—a dragon named Smoky, one of the Svartans—Trillian, and a youkai-kitsune named Morio, from whom she is learning death magic. The four make a powerful quartet and are soul-bound as well as married.

Together the three of us make for a striking contrast, but we're sisters to the core. Half-human, half-Fae, we had come from Otherworld to make Seattle our home. And as I said, we're leading the front lines in a demonic war that threatens
both
of our worlds.

***

A sudden crash of thunder broke the incoming storm and the rain lashed down, driving hard. As I silently navigated the puddles, a gust of wind rattled the last leaves off the trees, howling as it whipped past. November had arrived with a vengeance.

Carter lived in the Broadway district of Seattle, in a basement apartment on a seedy side street. Hookers hung out here, and junkies, and street people who were lost and wandering, but Carter had hired a powerful witch to ward the area around the steps leading down to his place, and anybody questionable steered clear of him.

After we all parked in front and made sure the cars were locked, we clattered down the steps. Carter was at the door within seconds—he seemed to have an uncanny radar that allowed him to greet his guests before they could even raise their hands to knock.

His father was Hyperion, the Greek Titan. His mother had been a demoness. With curving horns that spiraled back over his head, the demigod seemed out of place in the middle of the city, although he could pass when he chose, appearing as a striking, but relatively normal, human.

Carter's hair was tousled and reached his collar. It was the same copper as mine. He always wore a burgundy smoking jacket over black jeans. A brace supported one leg, and he walked with a cane. I knew how he had come by his injury—but I was the only one in our family in whom he'd confided.

Carter was a brilliant man, sensual and with a dry sense of humor. But the three of us all knew that he wasn't a safe candidate for any sort of romantic liaison. While the sensual energy ran thick, it was dark in nature. He'd as much as warned me once that his playmates had to be able to withstand a rough and tumble time.

“Thank you for coming.” He motioned us over to his living room. As usual, the opulence was faded but neat, reminiscent of a different time. Carter definitely had his own style; that was for sure.

As we took our seats, Lara—one of his cats—a gorgeous twelve-pound black and white Aegean, leaped into Camille's lap. She was soon followed by Roxy, Lara's fifteen-pound white sister. Inundated under the weight of almost thirty pounds of fur and razor blades, Camille laughed, burying her head in their fur. I grinned as she maneuvered the two cats into petting position.

“I know you wanted to talk to us, but we also have a problem.” I leaned back, crossing my legs, watching Delilah as she eyed the cats warily. She slowly reached out and petted one of them. The fact that she
was
one caused territorial issues at times.

“Let's hear it then. By the look on your face, whatever's going down for you is worse than what I'm concerned about.” Carter tipped up the corners of his lips, giving him a rakish look.

We filled him in on everything that had happened. “So, have you heard anything on the grapevine about rogue vampires? And do you know anything about Severance Park?”

Carter let out a long sigh. “I don't even need to check my files for this one. Severance Park. In the Greenbelt Park District—you know the history of the area. Heavily haunted, a lot of psychic activity has gone down there, abnormally high number of deaths—some of them unexplained.”

“What about rogue vampires? Anything on the grapevine about them? Roman's swamped with some sort of political mess that his mother's gotten embroiled in, so he's dropped this one in my lap.”

The fact that Roman had re-sired me and now I was connected to the Queen of Vampires never failed to make me cringe. Roman was proving to be a good sire, and he'd solved a serious issue that had arisen for me, but being so intimately connected with the leaders of the Vampire Nation had—and would continue to—prove problematic.

Carter frowned and moved to his desk. He shuffled through a sheaf of papers. “Hmm . . . something is coming to mind—ran across it the other day but didn't pay much attention.” After a moment, he sat down at his computer and pulled up his e-mail. Another moment of searching and he crooked his fingers for us to join him at his desk.

“Find something?”

He nodded. “Yes, I did. It's brief, but maybe it has to play with what's going on. A friend . . . well, here. Let me read his e-mail.
‘I heard rumors the other day of a new vampire club coming in on the down-low. I don't know much about it, except they're trying to keep under the radar. Not sure if they have anything to do with demons, though. All I know is that the owner is named Julian.'
That's the extent of it. As to why they would try to keep themselves private, I'm not certain, but maybe to avoid Roman's notice?”

“Hmm, Julian? Doesn't ring a bell.” I shook my head. “Well, I'll run it past Roman. He wants all vampire businesses cleared with him. I guess, if that's all you have . . . so, why did you want to talk to us?”

Carter returned to the living area and motioned for us to help ourselves to the cookies and tea sitting there. As always, an elegant bottle of blood waited for me, and I was never sure where he got it, or who it had belonged to, but the blood Carter served me was like honey wine.

“Truth is, I'm worried.” A furrow hollowed his brow. “I have a delicate situation, and I'm not sure how to proceed. I've never been good with interpersonal relationships. I can't very well write to Iris.”

I snorted. Iris had recently started up an advice column for the Supe Community Action Council, given that she was stuck at home all day with her twins. She was handing out advice on just about any subject, although some of the questions she got bordered on the freakshow side.

I glanced at Camille and she shrugged. Delilah frowned. When a demigod called you in to ask advice in his love life, something was wrong.

“Can you be . . . more specific?” I knew better than to prod any demon or half-demon. Or demigod. Or half-Titan.

Actually, I knew better than to prod anybody who could make so much dust and ashes out of me. A stake to the heart, being shoved into the sunlight, a little fire applied in the right way . . . Yeah, none of those potential scenarios sounded too comfy. And we had no clue how Carter would react when riled. We'd never had the ill fortune to find out. Then again, he had killed his foster daughter for being a spy. No two ways about it, he had a temper.

“You know I've been dating Shimmer—you remember? Blue dragon?”

“Yeah, that's right.” We knew a little about her, but not much. For one thing, the Wing Liege had mentioned her. For another, we'd met her briefly here at Carter's not long ago. She had left before we could form any real opinions.

“Something's happened to her.”

We waited. Carter merely looked at us.

“Dude, you have to give us more to go on than that. Is she hurt? Did she have an accident? Do you need us to contact the Dragon Reaches?” Camille leaned forward. “We can't help you if we don't know what's going on.”

He stared at her, then turned to include Delilah and me in his gaze. “I do not want you telling Smoky about this. If he knew the full story, he might treat her differently. I figure the Wing Liege will tell him if he wants him to know.”

Okay, so that was a knotty twist.

Camille frowned. “You want me to promise to keep something from my husband? What if it's something he should know? That might affect him? You
know
what Smoky's temper is like.”

Carter shook his head. “Trust me, if he needs to know, his mother and the Wing Liege will let him in on her secret.”

The demigod was leading us down a twisted little path. I decided to intervene. Carter seemed to listen to me more than he listened to my sisters.

“Camille is right to be concerned, considering all we're facing. How about if we promise to tell Smoky and the guys only if push comes to shove? Will that work for you?”

Carter said nothing, just stared at us stubbornly.

Delilah let out a long sigh. “Carter, you have to work with us if you want our help. For all we know, this could severely affect the demonic war. We can't make blind promises. You know this.”

Faced with our logic, he let out a huff and then shrugged. “Fine, but you don't bring the men in on it—especially Smoky and Shade—unless you absolutely have to. Will you promise me that?”

By now curiosity was eating me up and I could tell Delilah and Camille felt the same way. “All right. Promise.” I glanced at the others and they nodded their agreement, Camille from under the pile of cats. “Okay, what's going on with your girlfriend?”

Carter bit his lip, showing uncharacteristic vulnerability. “Shimmer's been acting oddly. She broke up with me. I think something's wrong.”

I tried to repress a snort. Camille's eyes flickered with laughter and Delilah just stared at him.

“So all this worry because a girl
broke up
with you? Carter, dude, you drop lovers right and left when they don't suit you. Now you get a taste of your own medicine and you think something is wrong with her?” The situation seemed so ridiculous that I wanted to laugh. Of course, not so wise to laugh at a demigod, but then again, Carter
was
our friend, and if you couldn't laugh at your friends, who
could
you laugh at?

But he didn't seem to appreciate my humor.

“If she simply wanted out of the relationship, I wouldn't have any problem. You're right—I do drop lovers right and left, and I don't expect them to feel any different about me. If they want out, they have only to say the word. Unless they indenture themselves to me, I don't play for keeps. But I mean what I say—she's acting strangely. She isn't herself and that worries me,
especially
since she's a dragon, and especially since she doesn't possess all of her powers right now.”

His concern sounded so genuine that we quit teasing him.

“Perhaps you'd better tell us a little about her background then, and what seems so amiss.” Delilah pulled out her notebook and pencil. Ever the private eye—well, ostensibly a private eye, she didn't handle very many cases—still, she always came prepared.

“Shimmer was sent here as a punishment.” Carter stared at us, challenging us to react.

“Punishment? For what? And who sent her here?” Camille was looking as confused as I felt. Though the Wing Liege told us she was working off a debt, that's all he'd said about her.

“I'd better start at the beginning. Shimmer was sent here by the Wing Liege. She now works for the Fly By Night Magical Investigations Agency. Well, Alex Radcliffe, the owner, is a friend of the Wing Liege's, and Shimmer was assigned to work for him for five years. She's working off a debt.”