Another silence. "When?"
"Now, today."
"I'll be right there."
"Larry?"
"I'll bring the guns and the knives, and an extra cross."
"Thanks."
"I've never been so glad to hear anybody's voice in my entire life," he said.
"Yeah," I said. "Get here soon. Wait, Larry."
"You need something else?" he said.
"Are Jean-Claude and Jason alright?"
"Yeah. Jason's in the hospital, but he'll live. Jean-Claude's in the bedroom asleep. After Serephina bit you, she hit Jean-Claude with some kind of power, energy. I felt it, and it was awesome. She knocked him out and left. The others went with her."
Everyone was alive, or as alive as they had started out. It was more than I'd hoped for. "Great; I'll see you soon." I hung up the phone and had a horrible urge to cry, but I fought it off. I was afraid if I started to cry I wouldn't be able to stop. I couldn't have hysterics just yet.
As agent on site, Bradford was in charge. Special Agent Bradley Bradford, yes Bradley Bradford, seemed to think I knew what I was doing. Nothing like getting almost killed to give you credentials. For once, badge or no badge, nobody was arguing with me. A refreshing change, that.
I did not hug Larry when he brought my clothes; he hugged me. I pushed away sooner than I wanted to, because I wanted to collapse into his arms in tears. To just let a pair of friendly arms hold me while I melted down. Later, later.
A huge bruise had blossomed on the side of his face from jaw to mid-temple. It looked like he'd been hit by a baseball bat. He was lucky Janos hadn't broken his jaw.
Larry had brought me blue jeans, a red polo shirt, jogging socks, my white Nikes, an extra cross from my suitcase, the silver knives, the Firestar complete with inner pants holster, and the Browning and its shoulder holster. He'd forgotten a bra, but hey, except for that it was perfect.
The wrist sheaths stung going over the cuts, but it felt wonderful to be armed again. I didn't try to hide the guns. The cops knew who I was, and I wasn't fooling any of the bad guys.
Barely two hours after I'd crawled out of Serephina's coffin, we pulled up in front of Bloody Bones. There were ambulances, and more cops than you could shake a stick at. Local cops, state cops, federal cops; it was a smorgasbord of policemen. A fire truck plus fire emergency services completed the official list. Oh, Larry and me.
With Magnus dead, Serephina and company were unguarded. Not helpless. Oh, no. Nothing this side of Hell would have gotten me inside that building voluntarily. But there were alternatives.
The gas truck pulled around to the back and busted out a window. I watched them snake the hose into the window of the back door and turn on the juice.
I stood there in the warm sunlight, a cool breeze playing on my skin, and whispered, "May you rot in Hell."
"Did you say something?" Larry asked.
I shook my head. "Nothing important."
The hose shivered to life, and the sharp, sweet smell of gasoline filled the air.
I felt her wake up. I felt her eyes open wide in the dark. I breathed in the sweet smell of gasoline, felt my hands gripping the coffin edges.
I put my hands over my eyes. "Oh, God."
Larry touched my shoulder. "What is it?"
I kept my hands pressed to my face. "Take the guns, now."
"What..."
"Do it!" My hands came down and I looked at him. I looked at his familiar face, and Serephina saw him, too.
She whispered, "Kill him."
I ripped the knives out of the sheaths and let them fall to the ground. I started backing up towards the cops. I needed people with guns around me, right now.
The voice in my head said, "Anita, what are you doing to your mother? You don't want to hurt me. Ni?a, help Mommy."
"Oh, God." I ran and nearly collided with Bradford.
"Help me, Ni?a. Help me!"
My hand closed on the Browning. I balled my hands into fists at my side. "Bradford, disarm me now. Please."
He stared at me, but he took the guns from their holsters. "What's wrong, Blake?"
"Cuffs, you got cuffs?"
"Yeah."
I held my hands out to him. "Use them." My voice sounded squeezed, my throat so tight I couldn't breathe.
I smelled Hypnotique perfume, tasted my mother's lipstick on my mouth. The cuffs snapped into place. I jerked away from him, stared at the handcuffs. I opened my mouth to say "Take them off," and closed it.
I could feel my mother's hair tickling my face.
"I smell perfume," Larry said.
I looked at him with wide eyes. I couldn't speak, I couldn't move. I didn't trust myself to do anything at that moment.
"Oh, my God," Larry said. "You're going to feel her burn."
I just looked at him.
"What can I do?"
"Help me." My voice was squeezed down to a whisper.
"What's happening to her?" Bradford asked.
"Serephina's trying to get Anita to help save her."
"The vampire's awake in there?" he asked.
"Yes," I said.
Serephina was out of her coffin. The full skirt of her ball gown brushed the edges of the door that led to the kitchen. She couldn't go closer, because there was a spill of daylight from the window. Gasoline was pouring across the floor towards her.
"Anita, help Mommy."
"It's a lie," I said.
"What's a lie?" Bradford said.
I shook my head.
"Anita, help me, you don't want me to die. You don't want me to die, not when you can save me."
I collapsed to my knees, cuffed hands digging into the gravel of the parking lot. "Stop the gasoline."
Larry knelt beside me. "Why?"
It was a good question. Serephina had a good answer. "Jeff Quinlan is in there. He's inside."
"Shit," Larry said. He looked up at Bradford. "We can't torch the place. There's a kid inside."
"Stop the gas," Bradford said. He walked away from us, towards the truck, motioning them off.
And I felt a surge of triumph from Serephina. It was a lie. Xavier had brought Jeff over last night. There was nothing alive in that building.
I gripped Larry's arm with my cuffed hands. "Larry, it's a lie. She's lying to me. Through me. Get me in the back of a squad car, now, and torch the place."
He stared at me. "But if Jeff..."
"Don't argue with me, just do it!" I screamed it, burying my face between my arms, trying to ignore the voice in my head.
I could taste Hypnotique on my tongue. It was too much. Serephina was scared.
Larry called Bradford back, and they half-carried me to a marked car. I started to struggle when they tried to shove me in the back, but I did my best not to fight, and they closed the door. I was in a metal and glass cage. I gripped my fingers through the mesh in front of me, digging it into my skin until it hurt. But even pain didn't help.
The gasoline was everywhere, soaking into everything. Serephina was choking on it. "Ni?a, don't do this. Don't hurt your Mommy. Don't lose me again."
I started rocking back and forth, hands digging into the wire. Back and forth, back and forth. It'd be over soon. It'd be over soon.
I felt a gentle touch on my face, a memory so real it made me turn and look for someone. "My death will be as real, Anita."
Somebody lit it. The flames roared to life, and I screamed before they hit her. I slammed my cuffed hands against the glass and screamed, "Nooo!"
Heat washed over her, crumbled the cloth of her dress like a melting flower, and ate her flesh.
I pounded my hands against the glass until I couldn't feel them anymore. I had to help her. I had to go to her. I fell to my back and kicked the window. I kicked it and kicked it, feeling the shock all the way up my back. I screamed and kicked the glass, and it cracked. The glass cracked and fell outward.
She was screaming my name. "Anita! Anita!"
I was halfway out the window before somebody tried to grab me. I let them grab my arm, but pushed my legs free of the window. I had to get to her; nothing else mattered. Nothing.
I fell to the ground with someone holding my arm. I got halfway up and threw them in a shoulder roll onto the ground. I ran for the fire. I could feel the heat now, rippling along my skin. I could feel the heat inside eating us alive.
Someone tackled me, and I beat at them with my hands made into one fist.
The hands let go, and I scrambled to my feet. Shouting, and someone else holding me. He lifted me off the ground, arms wrapped around my waist, pinning my arms. I kicked backwards, and hit his knees. The arms loosened, but there were more arms. More hands. Someone lay on top of me. A hand the size of my head pressed the side of my face against the rocks. Hands pinned my hands against the rocks, his full body weight on just my wrists. Someone was sitting on my legs.