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Had he lobbed it at us when we ran? Could he have possibly escaped?
“Any sign of him?”
Wade’s voice startled me, and I jumped. He was at my side in the blink of an eye. “Sorry, didn’t mean to scare you. So, any clue as to—”
A sound alerted both of us, and we turned just in time to see some of the rocks moving from the mini-slide over against the wal . And then I saw a foot kick away a boulder the size of my head, and then another.
“Charles—that has to be him.” I glanced around, looking for a stake. The ones on my belt had splintered in the chaos.
Wade grabbed up a board and smashed it over his knee, so one long sliver stuck out from the end. He tossed me the other piece and, though not a perfect point, it was pointed enough to use as a stake.
Charles rose from the bed of rock, a triumphant glimmer in his eye. “I told you. I am immortal.”
“You were lucky,” I said, hissing as my fangs descended and I began to circle him. Wade took the other side, and we hedged him in, trying our best to keep him from escaping.
“I am the sword of justice.” Charles started in my direction, his face awash with the joy only a martyr can feel. “I wil cleanse Earth of the abominations of the flesh and al the world wil know of my coming and tremble.”
I ducked in then, as he raised his hands in triumph, joyous and feral. He’d left his chest open to attack and I raced directly into him, ramming him with the piece of wood, feeling the rip as it tore through his chest and into his heart. Charles stared at me, disbelief replacing the joy, and then—
with one last shriek—he was gone. Dust floated to the ground where he’d been standing.
“Martyrs usual y don’t have a lot of common sense,” Wade said, putting down his own makeshift stake. He knelt by the lingering wisps of dust and ashes that were the only remains signifying Charles’s existence. “He was a tormented soul. Even if we’d caught him before he turned murderous, I don’t think we could have done anything for him.”
“Neither do I.” I looked around the room. Religious icons littered the wal s, but Charles had spread blood on them—no doubt the blood of innocents. “I’l never get over the fact that religion can be such a boon, a salve to some, and a license to murder for others. Extremists from any faith scare me.”
“Now our question is, can we get out of here?”
We examined the door opposite the tunnels and found that they led directly to a manhole tunnel.
I floated up, dislodging the cover to peek out. We were in the park. Only two blocks away from where we’d gone in. There was a crowd down near the original manhole, and Chase’s car was there.
Wade and I jogged down the street. I could see Chase standing there, Iris beside him.
I couldn’t resist sauntering up to them, about to ask What’s up? when my question died on my lips. There was a sinkhole in the street, in the center of the intersection, about twenty yards from the manhole. Dust bil owed up from the hole as a group of firemen and FH-CSI officers stared down into it.
Iris saw me first, and raced over to throw her arms around my waist. “Menol y! You’re safe!”
Chase whirled. “Menol y! Wade! Thank God you’re okay. What happened? We were waiting for you, and then after a while there was this loud explosion and part of the street caved in.”
“We got him.” I looked at Chase, shaking my head. “He was too far gone. There was no chance to stop him other than to kil him. He’s dust. It was Charles Shalimar. He thought he was some sort of martyr, cal ed himself the sword of justice. He also managed to find himself a live hand grenade, and that’s what happened to your street.”
“You guys lived through a grenade?” Chase stared at us, his eyes wide. “Shit. Are you okay?”
I nodded. “We’re hardier than you think. Charles survived it, too, but he couldn’t survive a stake through the heart. The kil ing spree is over, Chase, but now we have to put out the aftermath. You might want to spend a little time in your news conference mentioning that a couple of vampires took care of the problem.”
He caught my intentions. “Yeah, if we show that you guys wil ingly went after one of your own, that might be enough to appease the recent spate of hate crimes against vampires.”
Maybe, but I wasn’t so sure. I had a nasty feeling things were going to explode pretty soon, unless some clear and definite lines were drawn. But I wasn’t going to dampen his optimism. He’d seen too much horror over the past week or two, too many bodies. At least we’d caught our man and taken him down.
“Yeah, maybe you’re right.” I walked over to Iris, who had moved back to stare down into the hole, next to Wade.
“You need to get home. Morning’s not far off.” She glanced up at me—I was barely five one but I was stil more than a foot tal er than she was. “Menol y, things are shifting, aren’t they? Something is on the move . . .”
“Yeah, I can feel it, too.” I stared into the chasm, wondering what we were talking about. But instinctively, I knew. Something big was coming, something big and something bad, and it felt like things were growing more and more chaotic. “Let’s go home.”
Wade gave me a quick hug and headed out for his apartment. I waved to Chase and headed back to my Jag, Iris beside me.
“How did you get down here?” I asked, after a moment.
