Over the connection, Uncle Alex transformed into Alex, the head of the queen’s comms. He snapped, “Details.”
Walter quickly filled him in and said, “No alarms were sounded, but I hear the muted wails of children.”
“Safe room?” Alex asked.
“Not according to the information on file at the codes department.”
“You’re inside the house, aren’t you?” Alex accused.
“Of course.”
“Well, Fu—phooey.”
Angie laughed. EJ smiled.
“Gimme a pic of the security system’s home base.”
Walter pulled his unicom from his arm and snapped it flat. He activated its camera and approached the blinking light at the bottom of the stairs. Each step careful. Each step potentially fatal. “There are two. One at the back door, which I’ve already passed. This one at the bottom of the stairwell.” He snapped a photograph and sent it. Walked back to the garage entrance. Took a second photograph and sent it. “Second photograph is from the door entering from the garage.”
“Got ’em. Working. Get out of there.”
“Roger that.” Walter left the house, following the blood droplets left by the Kogot. They ended near the oil stains where a car had been parked.
Angie joined EJ, standing in the sleet.
Walter walked up to them—stalked, more like. Vamps were the apex predators of the night. He said, “Vampire male and your human client, are dead, each at an entrance. Presumptive use ofRazryvayushchiy Kogot. The dogs were shot.”
EJ pulled Delta close to him. Waiting for the need to unfold it. So far as he knew, no one ever won against a Kogot in a fight. The only viable option was to shoot to kill, vamp rounds, silver-lead designed to explode inside them. If you had time to take the shot.
Walter continued, to Alex, “Prewar vehicle was on the drive. Gone now. Neither vehicle in the garage has been used recently and both are plugged in for recharging. The two other vampires came later, hours after the deaths.”
EJ glanced at his sister. She was wet to the scalp and her clothes clung to her. The tiara glowed and sang softly, fighting her headache. EJ said, “Get back in the car.”
She ignored him, her eyes on Walter. “Who? The fangheads. Who?”
“One was your ex-husband,” Walter said. “The other was unfamiliar. They walked the grounds and went inside, though they were not the killers.”
“The crying from inside,” Angie asked. “A recording?”
“I do not know. I could not locate them. The queen’s people are trying to get inside the security system and see if there is a safe room. We need to call Villetti.”
“That’ll make his night,” EJ said.
“You left the apartment woefully underdressed for the weather,” Walter said to Angie. “Usually, you plan much better.” Walter opened the back car door and gestured her inside. Without waiting for her to move, he opened the driver’s door and sat, closing it against the cold. He activated the heater and turned on the seat warmers for them. When she didn’t get in, Walter said softly, “Angelina. We will wait.”
“But there are children in there.”
When he didn’t reply she swore, “Son of a witch.” But she got in the vehicle. EJ walked to the side of the vehicle and slid intothe front passenger seat. He made the call for Villetti and backup. The cop was justifiably pissed.
“ETA?” Angie demanded.
“As long as it takes,” EJ said.
EJ was younger, but the war had made him more patient than Angie. Angie took after their mother and their aunt, the queen—rushing in where angels fear to tread.
Villetti’s voice sounded and EJ tapped his ear-patch. Listened. He said, “Copy that.”
To his sister, EJ said, “Villetti and a small team will be here in twenty minutes, weather permitting, to secure the premises. We need to make certain there aren’t any magical traps or problems.”
