It was the reason my alarm was sounding off so loudly.
He had silver bullets in his gun. I was sure of it.
The moment I thought that, the southern voice laughed heartily from somewhere in the room.
The black halo around Maddie continued growing.
I didn't know what to do.
It was an ambush, that much was for sure.
And that's when I heard a noise from behind me. When I turned to look, I saw a sight that was both welcomed and very, very surreal.
It was Aaron King, the old detective from Los Angeles, slipping into the hallway behind me. He raised a finger to his lips to shush me. I nodded.
Maddie needed to be saved.
Now.
I dashed into the room, trusting my instincts, trusting Aaron King, and praying like hell we all made it through this alive.
Chapter Fifty-seven
I had a hard time zeroing in on the vampire, but I knew, could feel, exactly where Carl Luck was in the room.
The heavy-set drug dealer - and apparent blood dealer - was crouching in the far corner of the huge bedroom, taking aim. I twisted my body just as a shot rang out. The bullet grazed my shoulder, searing it, and impacted the wall behind me.
I crouched and ran forward, sprinting as fast as I could. The room blurred past me.
Another shot rang out. But I was going too fast to turn or duck or do anything. A wicked pain kicked me in the stomach. But I didn't stop running, and now I was leaping.
Carl Luck screamed and shrank back, and I drove my flattened hand, with its sharp, pointed nails, straight through his throat. Through skin and Adam's apple, and through his spine, as well, severing it.
He jerked hard and instantly shit his pants.
Blood spurted everywhere as I pulled my hand free. I was already spinning, searching for the vampire, but there was no one there.
The pain in my stomach flared mightily, and I nearly doubled over. I gasped, fought to stay on my feet. It had been a silver bullet, I was sure of it. The pain...nearly unbearable. The searing pain...so similar to the crossbow bolt of a few months ago. Had the bullet gone all the way through? I didn't know.
Something flashed overhead. A white blur.
I looked up, raising my hand, just as something dropped down from above. A wide fist, like a hammer, that drove my head straight down into the floor.
The force of the blow was unlike anything I had ever felt before. How it didn't kill me, I don't know.
I lay there, gasping, struggling for breath, bleeding on the floor from my stomach, shoulder and mouth. My nose was broken, I was sure of it. Perhaps my jaw, too. The force of the punch had driven my face into the tiles, cracking the tiles. Blood flowed freely, filling the cracks like little crimson tributaries.
Someone grabbed my hair, lifted me up. My jaw hung slack. Yeah, it was broken. Shattered, perhaps.
"So who do we have here?" I heard a voice ask from somewhere seemingly far away. It was the same voice I had heard earlier from the hallway. The same southern drawl.
He continued lifting until I was facing him. It was Captain Jack, of course, only this time he wasn't wearing his huge cowboy hat. No doubt he had lost his hat as he ambushed me from above.
"Can't talk, huh? Cat got your tongue?" And he slapped me hard across the face. My disjointed jaw swung around like a swing in a storm, nearly hitting the back of my neck. The only thing keeping it in place was the bone and tendons and skin.
Now he gripped me by the throat and lifted. My jaw hung on his hand, bleeding down his arm. "Hmm. I've never seen you before. You must be a newbie. Only a newbie would break in on someone feeding." He pulled me a little closer to his face. My eyes were so blurred I could barely make out the big Texan. "I don't like newbies. Newbies don't get it. Newbies try to change everything. I don't like change."
I couldn't talk, but I could think.
You're killing the little girl.
"Oh, you mean my food source? I suppose so, but food sources know no ages, Newbie, although little girls and boys tend to have a richer, purer blood, which is what I prefer."
You're a fucking animal.
"You don't know me well enough to call me names, little lady. Killing our own kind is looked down upon, but I think I'll make an exception here. I have a feeling you might make my life difficult if I let you out of here alive."
Now his hand tightened, crushing my throat. I saw his other hand reaching inside his coat pocket. I knew his thoughts. Hell, I was inside his twisted head.
He was reaching for a silver dagger.
I quit flailing and grabbed his hand at my throat with both of my own. I didn't know who the fuck this asshole was, but I knew I wasn't dead yet.
And with all the strength I had, I broke his wrist.
He screamed and dropped me. I landed on my feet and squared off.
"You bitch!"
But I was moving, using all my training and instincts, focusing my fear and hate and anger. I wasn't a slouch. I knew what I was doing. I hit him hard, repeatedly, driving my punches into the face. Who he was, I didn't care. How strong he was, I didn't know. How much damage I was doing, I couldn't tell.
Out of the corner of my eye, I saw Aaron King standing in the doorway, his own jaw hanging down, holding a stun gun. I motioned for him to get the girl, projecting my thoughts to him as strongly as I could. He looked briefly confused and then moved to Maddie.
My brief pause was all Captain Jack needed. He leveled a devastating punch into my right eye. So hard that I heard my cheekbone shatter.
I stumbled backwards and as I did so, I saw something silver slash before me. His dagger. Amazingly, as it came down on me, all I could think of was my kids. I saw their faces. Their beautiful faces. The dagger sliced down, no doubt heading for my heart. Whether or not that would kill me, I didn't know, but I suspected it would. I suspected Captain Jack knew exactly what he was doing.
Except I've been trained in knife fighting. Trained by the best. I did the one thing we were taught to do when there was no real hope of avoiding a plunging knife.
Use my arm as a shield.
And, as I did just that, I heard my old instructor's voice: "Better to cut your arm than to die."
The knife slashed down as my arm came up....
Chapter Fifty-eight
The narrow blade plunged through my arm.
This was shaping up to be a hell of a shitty day. I couldn't even scream. I grunted while my lower jaw flapped.
But, believe it or not, I knew what I was doing. I turned my arm, and the blade came out of his hand. I backed away, stumbling, steam hissing from my forearm where the silver dagger's handle protruded from it.
Gasping and choking on my own blood, I pulled the blade free.
And that's when something snaked across the bedroom, something crackling and alive.