EJ slapped on his ear-patch and tapped to an open channel. “Ange. Let’s go. My car.”
“You are not going, son,” Dad said. “Queen’s orders. Vampires only.”
“Love you, Dad,” I said. “But I don’t let people die for me while I wait at home safe.” I ended the transmission and said into comms, “Volunteers only. Anyone possessed may have to die.”
“We’re all waiting in front of the building,” Grizz said. “Get your asses down here.”
I tossed my null cloak over an arm and led the way from my apartment by the traditional route. I tapped my headset, located Walter by his comms, and watched on the face-screen. I added a tracker to the screen, saying, “Tracking screen one on headsets. Blue is Walter. Red is my staff. Shiloh has it.”
“The stupid little witch is only moments ahead of me,” Walter said, joining the conversation, sounding totally relaxed, though he was running on slick sidewalks and streets. “The scent of rock dust and old ashes hangs on the icy wind. She isn’t trying to hide her trail. Her magic is so potent on the air it burns.”
EJ and I climbed into vehicles, my interest on the screens, letting the guards push and settle me in, the way they did when I was a kid.
The firm was only two-point-four miles from the little church. An easy run for a vamp. A bit more difficult in a dead sprint on icy surfaces, but by the end of the first tenth of a mile, Walter had hit his stride. We had a minute. Maybe.
EJ gave us the bare bones of a plan as we pulled away fromthe curb, too fast for conditions. Spun on the ice. Boots, the driver, regained control.
The vehicle stank of garlic and peppers and body odor. Not that the guards I was riding with hadn’t showered—they had, but they were living on their own cooking, heavily Latino and Italian, strong on the spices, instead of on meals prepared by the queen’s chef. It was seeping through their pores now. Vamps would smell the humans coming for miles. I should have prepared someantistinkworkings, but usually the one in the kitchen was enough. I’d have to use my own power.
The sky was clear overhead; most of the buildings had lights here and there, proving some of the electric grid had held, once the precip stopped. Our car lights shone bright in the night. The road, normally a four-lane, was two lanes of packed ice, black ice, and mounds of dirty snow where the plows had pushed it. Few other vehicles were moving. A snowplow was working one street over. A cop car rolled through an intersection. Only those who had to be out were driving. We caught up with and passed two people walking, one with a dog, one laden with his belongings, his feet skidding along, his movements haggard. I assumed he was trying to reach the mission building. The mission building we were headed toward, now occupied by vamps and demons.
Over comms, Walter said, “I see you have followed me. Unwise, but not unexpected, no matter what the queen thought. I have passed a police unit idling at a green light. The officer driving never saw me, but the female passenger did. Rocas.”
We hit a bump of snow still frozen into the road and my body left the seat, only the seat belt keeping me from smashing into the roof.
“Rocas is following,” Walter said.
Police chatter came over the headset, separate from ourcomms. Police chatter said unit 402 had seen him running by. They were in pursuit.
Someone tapped into the police locator and my headset showed a yellow light in slow pursuit, turning the corner. The yellow light wavered back and forth, slipping on the ice.
Into comms, Walter said, “I am approximately four-tenths of a mile from the church, and Shiloh is just ahead. The human police officer, Rocas, is less than two-tenths of a mile from The Firm in what might have been an unofficial stakeout or drive-by.” Walter was breathing slowly from exertion.
On the face shield, Shiloh’s dot stopped. Walter stopped about thirty feet from her.
“Shiloh is holding the demon stick staff like a bo. Its top stone is glowing,” he said.
“She took body fluid from me,” Angie said. “If it’s glowing, then she altered my staff with a working I donothave in my repertoire, and circumvented the personalized activation stone. She can use it.”
Walter said softly, “Shiloh likes glamours and changes her eye color often. Tonight they glow like quicksilver. This is new.” Suddenly Shiloh’s face appeared on the headset, replacing her dot. Walter had activated his camera.
Shiloh was vamped out: Golden fangs. Quicksilver eyes. Glamoured face paint. “You shouldn’t be here,” she snarled, the soft sound picked up by comms. “Your brand is shining like a streetlamp in hell.”
“As are your eyes. What was the elixir you drank supposed to do for me?”
She snarled again, the black of her wide pupils visible beneath the liquid mercury sheen.
“You don’t want to fight me, little girl,” Walter said, his voice silky, with the mesmerism few of his kind still possessed.
She ignored the statement and answered his question. “It gives me complete immunity to demons for as long as it’s in my system. And I haven’t eaten fully so it will stay with me for averylong time. If I survive the untested potion, I’ll be rich. Your brand, on the other hand, might as well be waving a white flag to that undead carcass who branded you and the undead witchy woman who left you to go to him.”
“Ah. Good to know.” The sound of Velcro ripping came over comms. A vial appeared in close-up on the screen. Walter drank it down.
EJ said, “The safe. You kept a vial in the queen’s safe. Otherwise I’d have found it in mydowsing.”
Walter made a faint sound. A muted, muffled grunt that transformed into a muffled scream.
“Hurts like a mofo, doesn’t it?” Shiloh said. “It’ll stop in a bit.”
