Mage’s head bobbed. “Good. That’s best, not to be distracted right now.”
“I appreciate your counsel, Mage. As always,” I said truthfully, “but we’d better get going.” We made our way back to the others, who were deep in conversation.
“Bloody media, all over the place.” Kait sneered at the CNN crew below.
“It doesn’t help that the ground outside was littered with evidence,” Mortimer answered. Countless markers sat on the snow-covered ground, indicating where the dozens of bodies with snapped necks had been discovered after the blast.
“We didn’t have time to compel witnesses,” she threw back.
“Did you even try?” From what I’d heard of Kait and what I had myself witnessed, she wouldn’t be the type to even try. Unlike me, human life meant nothing but a meal and lifestyle security to her.
“It doesn’t matter. It had already gone viral,” Lilly said, ending the back-and-forth in her childlike voice. She shook her head. “The humans are stupid. They see a massacre and instead of running for their lives, they pull their cameras out and begin recording. Look at them.” She gestured toward the crowd outside the police tape. “Even now, they’re eager to catch a glimpse.”
Early reports were fast to label it a terrorist bombing, but the eyewitness accounts of those who escaped, coupled with images and videos circulating the Internet, quickly connected the dots into a terrifying picture that no reputable journalist would give credibility to without first investigating.
“They’ll be finished with analyzing the images soon,” Mage said softly. “And then the president will make a speech, declaring that everyone must remain in their homes for safety. No one will label us for what we are yet. Look, there.” Her long, slender finger aimed to a single military vehicle rolling down the street, past the police barricades. “By this time tomorrow, those trucks will be all over the streets.”
“What’s the body count at now?” I asked.
“NYPD reports say two hundred and six, but my inside source revealed it’s double that,” Lilly replied, earning my groan. “The last reports of an attack were at a college campus residence not far from here.” So they were staying relatively close. That was good. “Thirty bodies, found an hour ago. The attack style sounds like fledglings.” Lilly’s voice hinted at nothing. Was anyone else afraid? No one seemed to be. Not sufficiently, anyway. Well, except for Mage.
“Why don’t you make yourself useful and hit this place with another blast of your magic, Sofie?” Mortimer suggested as we watched the forensics team struggle to scale a heap of stone, evidence cases in hand.
“My magic is not endless, Mortimer.” I would love to level the rest of Viggo and Mortimer’s home with another explosion but I needed all of my power for what we were about to face—it was far more threatening than a few army trucks and a forensics team. “I also want something that may still be inside.” A small canvas bag that held the only natural substance toxic to vampires. There was a very small chance—but still, a chance—that it remained intact.
“I’ll come with you,” Caden offered.
My mouth opened to refuse him. I probably would be better off going alone, but this ensured that Caden was not out of my sight. I’d promised Evangeline that I would protect them. I knew that Caden was at the top of her list. “Fine, the rest of you, stay here. If it looks like we’re in trouble, provide some sort of distraction. If we separate, you all know where to meet.”
Though Galen was a thorn in our heel every step of the way, he had prepared us well, arming us with programmed cell phones and two-way radios, blow torches and lighters for effectively killing fledglings where my magic might not be available, and a rendezvous location in front of the Alice in Wonderland statue in Central Park should we find ourselves dislocated. The last thing we wanted to do was lose track of our small team, especially when sunrise—and my difficult decision—would come quickly.
Caden and I scaled down the fire exit, leaping from one platform to the next with the ease of ghosts and without regard for spectators, though I doubted anyone would notice. They were too focused on the mayhem across the street.
“How do you want to do this?” Caden murmured as we ducked under the police tape.
“As quickly and quietly as possible,” I hissed back as several police officers raised their hands to stop us. “Starting now.” I ran, sensing Caden’s presence beside me as we sprinted past the officers, forensics, and firefighters, leaving them scratching their heads.
As I’d hoped, the blast of fire had demolished everything above street level, but the underground remained passable. Several of the entrances were still open for passage, propped up by constructed wooden supports. Even in utter darkness, I could see numerous dusty footprints. The humans had already been down here, likely scouring for survivors.
But the small crowd of investigators hovering around the blood cellar had discovered something more. Judging by the frowns and low hum of voices and flashes of a camera, it was very concerning.
I couldn’t blame them. The room resembled a morgue—Viggo did design it after all. Stainless steel panels stretched from floor to ceiling, and behind each one was a refrigerated drawer. The supply had been almost drained, leaving perhaps one or two drawers with evidence.
I’d destroy those before we left here tonight.
“Excuse me, gentlemen,” I crooned, stepping into a beam from the temporarily erected light. “And madam,” I added, nodding to the single female with a camera in hand and an FBI badge around her neck. Heads slowly turned toward my voice, unrushed, likely expecting another officer or specialist, there to feed them important information. “You shouldn’t be down here. It’s very unstable.”
When their eyes scanned over my black attire, my wild red hair, my oddly casual smile, I saw the flickers of suspicion ignite.
Quickly penetrating each gaze with my own, I pulled all five minds into mine, watching the swirl of cloudiness take over their irises. “Forget you ever saw the contents of this room,” I droned. “Turn around, walk to the end of the hall, and take the stairs up. Do not come back down. Report that you have found nothing of interest.”
Like drones, the five began moving past us in single file, in the direction we’d just come. Caden edged past the last person to step into the very familiar cellar. He and his friends had spent many hours in here, trying to curb the uncontrollable urge that came with tasting human blood again.
That’s when the tall, dark-haired man bringing up the rear raised a gun and shot Caden three times in quick succession. The sound of the blasts ricocheted through the hall, no doubt reaching the ears of those above.
With the handgun a mere foot away, the bullets exploded into Caden’s back. Two of them exited his chest. The third did not.
The shuffle of feet behind me stalled, the loud bang interfering with my compulsion. “Exit, now!” I commanded, my eyes wide as Caden dropped to his knees with a growl, his face grimaced with pain.
Then the man turned the gun on me.
Luckily I was ready.
And I was faster.
Flying forward, I shoved the gun upward as his finger tugged the trigger, sending the bullet through his chin and into his skull. His body dropped to the ground in a heap, and his heart stopped beating a few seconds later. Yanking his limp hand, I immediately spotted the telltale tattoo of the People’s Sentinel—an angled cross—on the meaty part of his thumb.
Lilly was right. They truly had infiltrated everything. And this one had clearly been spelled by the witches to resist compulsion. Dammit! I knew it was possible because I’d already faced it several times, but this time there were no signs, no warnings. The witches had somehow advanced their spell! As if we didn’t have enough to deal with already.
Caden’s growl stole all other concerns from me. “I won’t heal!” He pushed out through clenched teeth, on his knees, his hand pressed against his chest.
“Shit,” I cursed, dropping down to meet him eye to eye. Viggo had been kind enough to ram a wooden stake through my heart more than once so I knew how painful this was. One of the bullets must’ve lodged itself in Caden’s heart. The Fates had designed our kind so strangely. Our hearts no longer beat, no longer sustained our lives, and yet we needed them wholly intact to function.
Footsteps pounded down the stairs in the distance. We’d have countless witnesses to deal with soon, which would lead to countless bodies. I’d hoped to avoid that. We needed to get out of here and I didn’t have time for finesse. “Okay, hold still. This may hurt.” Caden fought with gritted teeth to hold his scream in as my magical coils penetrated his chest, coiling around the bullet. Sure enough, it was lodged in his ventricle. I gave it a sharp tug, tearing through walls of muscles and bones and lungs and skin until the bullet clanked onto the dusty concrete.
I lost myself staring at it for a split second. What if that had been a “special gun,” like the one that Mage had described, the kind that used explosive bullets specially designed to kill our kind? Caden would be dead! We hadn’t been in the city for an hour and I’d have to go back to the mines and tell Evangeline that, after all that she’d been through, I’d gotten him killed. And for what? A bag of merth?
But he wasn’t dead, I reminded myself, pushing the nausea away.
He would be fine in seconds. Knowing that, I left him to heal and ran into the vault, to the corner where the ventilation system hid a small canvas knapsack. I knew it was there without seeing it. I could feel the tingle deep within my core, the warning of danger. Tearing off the grate, I reached in. The bag tumbled down through the small space. I sighed with relief.
And followed the sigh with a slack-jawed stare.
A necklace—a chain with a smooth black heart-shaped stone—hung knotted around the strap.
The prickles on my neck spiked. My sixth sense for a special kind of evil.
Viggo had been here. And he’d been here since the attack.
He must’ve known where the merth was and he obviously knew that I would come for it. How, I was afraid to guess. But, he knew. And he wanted me to know that he was a step ahead of me, that he was near.
And that he was still a real threat.
“We have to go!” Caden called out urgently, his voice strong once again.
Remembering Mage’s warning, I yanked the chain until it broke and covertly tucked the necklace into my pocket, then turned around.
“Drop the bag. Hands above your head!” a soldier yelled. I heard the safety kick off his gun, followed by a chorus of four more as several soldiers slid cautiously through the doorway to position themselves along the wall, all pointing heavy-duty weapons at our chests. My stomach tightened. These had to be the guns Mage was referring to. I instinctively scanned their hands. Two more Sentinel tattoos stared back at me.
There was no point compelling them, and we were in danger if we didn’t get out of here.
“We have what we need,” I said quietly, directed at Caden, hoping he’d understand.
His almost imperceptible nod told me that he did, thankfully.
We vanished up and out of what was once our asylum, a chain of explosions into an empty blood vault chasing us the entire way.
*
“All that for merth? Why the hell would you want that toxic weed, anyway?” Kait screeched, cowering away from Caden as he looped his arms through the canvas knapsack. His wince told me that he could feel the sting, though it wasn’t enough to overtake him.
“Because it’s the last of it in this world and we may have use for it in the future,” I said, shaking my head at the garish vampiress, her bright orange painted lips glowing in the darkness. So typical of our kind. We were at the top of the food chain and would rid the world of anything that might threaten that position. Ignoring her further mutters of discord, I focused my attention on Caden. “Are you okay with that? I’d carry it but it can leach my magic, and we need that right now.”
“I’m fine.” He grimaced. “For now.”
Giving his shoulder a pat, I stepped over to the edge to watch the latest excitement. More police had been called in to guard the perimeter and several new military trucks rolled in. We had no reason to go back in now, though.
“What happened in there?” Lilly asked.
“You were right—the Sentinel is everywhere. We can no longer trust our powers to compel,” I muttered, not really answering her question. “I’m going to kill every last witch on this planet, if it’s the last thing I do.” They were the catalysts for this human revolt, giving them power they otherwise wouldn’t have. If the humans would just live in ignorant bliss, we wouldn’t be dealing with this.
The witches would never be satisfied. Ironic, given it was their causal enchantment—their need for immortality and youth and beauty—that created vampires to begin with.