Caught in Darkness (15 page)

“A scream,” the taller vamp bit out
sarcastically.

Seth cut a glance back at her and
commanded, “Stay.” Without a second thought he charged forward, the other two
vamps hot on his heels, and rammed his foot into the door of the bakery. It
popped off without difficulty and by the time it settled on the floor several
paces back he had already dashed past it, headed for the stairs that led to the
apartment.

The inside of the apartment was a
mess. What sparse, old furniture there had been was tossed around and broken
without
care,
and the floor and walls were dotted with
spots of dark, dried blood. What drew Seth’s attention first, however, was the
body currently impaled to the floor to the left of the door.

It wasn’t one of the three
traitors, which led him to assume that it was Thompson, and there was a
slender, pointed piece of wood sticking out of his chest. A slim trail of blood
had leaked out, around the point of impact, and discolored Thompson’s blue
shirt. His skin was just beginning to gray, indicating that he had probably
been the one to scream—a vampire’s skin turned gray and wrinkly within minutes
of their death. There was nothing to be done for him.

“Slayer!” the taller vamp hissed
from just beyond Seth’s shoulder.

Seth turned his attention from the
decaying corpse of a vamp he’d never known and let his eyes land on the Slayer
he’d run into nearly a week before. So much for hoping he’d already skipped
town. “What are you doing here?” Seth demanded, reigning in his frustration. None
of the traitors were there, but his instincts were screaming that they had
been. The Slayer’s interruption had probably been how they’d gotten away.

“Killing vampires,” the Slayer
responded, turning his reloaded crossbow toward them.
“Seems
I’ve hit the mother-lode.”

The inexperienced vampires behind
Seth bared their fangs at the man and hissed angrily, clearly letting the
Slayer’s words—as well as their Family member’s death—rattle them.

Seth released a calm breath, noting
that the Slayer was sporting a nice new cast on his broken wrist. He only
wished that was stopping the man from being able to use his crossbow, but
apparently the Slayer was ambidextrous. That could be a problem.

“Now,” the Slayer began cockily,
“which one of you freaks wants to die next?”

“I’ll tear out your throat, fool!”
the impulsive taller vampire snarled the instant before he dashed forward.

Seth growled in frustration as the
Slayer squeezed the trigger, calling, “Move!” He threw himself to the side,
easily dodging the wooden projectile, and he noticed that the shorter vampire
had managed to do the same. But the taller vampire was not so lucky, and Seth
was forced to watch as the first spear lodged in his right shoulder, sending
him sprawling backwards with a cry of pain. The Slayer immediately loaded the
next spear—which had already been waiting in his injured hand—onto the
crossbow, swung it toward the taller vampire’s partner, and fired again.

The older vampire clearly had a
little more practice with Slayers, as he threw himself forward and low, letting
the spear sail over his head to impale the wall even as he closed in on the
Slayer. Seth used the distraction to dash over to their fallen comrade and
yank
the wood from his shoulder, thereby allowing the wound
to heal on its own. But he was distracted, and the mixed scent of blood in the
air was filling his nose. He didn’t realize Veronica had disobeyed and followed
them up until he heard her startled, choked gasp.

****

Veronica watched, frustrated, as
Seth and the nameless vampires rushed into the bakery after the short-lived
scream that had come from above. He’d told her to stay, and she knew why. She
even understood. But she didn’t like it. I didn’t ask him to bring me out here
so that I could wait by the car. Of course she knew that, in a fight against a
vampire, she was far from likely to come out the victor—especially twice in a
row. That didn’t stop her from wanting to be up there, if only so that she
could watch with her own two eyes as Mandy’s murderers were brought to justice.
He’ll have to understand.

She was moving forward even before
she’d consciously made the decision. By now, of course, she’d lost sight of
Seth and the others, but she wasn’t worried about getting lost. And she’d be
lying to say she hadn’t been at least a little impressed as he’d kicked down
the bakery door. Sure, he was a vampire and so obviously he had more strength
than an ordinary person—she knew that. But it was so sexy to watch. She even
smiled a little as she passed the now-broken door. And when she reached the
staircase in the back, nestled behind an already-open door, she took the stairs
two at a time in her haste to see what was happening above.

She wasn’t expecting the sight that
greeted her.

Her eyes landed for a second on the
gray-and-wrinkling body of a vampire (she assumed) that she’d never seen
before, an-honest-to-god wooden stake protruding from his chest. Then her
attention was drawn by movement just off to the other side of the doorway and
she was frozen with confusion and a different type of fear.

The taller, impatient vampire who
had greeted them below was lying on the floor with a wooden stake in his
shoulder—though Seth was in the process of tearing it out—and the other vampire
was struggling with someone else she’d never seen. He had a cast on one wrist,
a crossbow just behind his feet, and he looked like a man who had aged more
than his years. Veronica knew in an instant, somehow, that he was entirely
human. And before she could find the confusion to put with that realization she
came to another: this man was a Slayer.

A cold, tight, uncomfortable
feeling began wrapping, slowly, around her heart. This man had already killed
one vampire, injured another, and was trying to kill a third. He would surely
target Seth as soon as he was able, and though she had absolute faith in Seth
she didn’t even want to see him risk losing that fight.

But she barely had time to dwell on
that before, as she watched, the Slayer pulled an apparently-sharp machete from
the inside of his coat and swung. The shorter vampire was in too close, and
realized too late, to dodge. Veronica watched, horrified, as his head rolled
off of his shoulders as if in slow-motion. His body crumpled, blood spurting
and trickling from the shoulders where his neck should have been, and she heard
a startled, choked gasp. It wasn’t until Seth’s head had snapped
up,
swinging toward her, that she realized the gasp had come
from her.

Everything that happened after that
seemed to blur.

The remaining nameless vampire
cried out in horror and leapt to his feet, ignoring the injury in his shoulder
as he rushed the Slayer. They struggled for a moment before the Slayer swung
his machete again, forcing the vampire to throw himself awkwardly backwards in
order to keep his head. With room to breathe the Slayer dropped his machete,
pulled a new stake from his coat, and lifted his crossbow again. It was loaded
before Veronica could blink, and then without warning it was aimed straight at
her.

Their eyes met and his hatred
floored her. What had she done to deserve that? “A vampire’s whore is as good
as a vampire,” he spat as his finger closed on the trigger.

She didn’t have time to process
that the Slayer had just fired a wooden stake at her heart before something
heavy was slamming into her and she found herself crashing into the ground in
the short hall. The heavy weight above her grunted as though in pain and it was
that sound that snapped her back to her senses.

Seth had saved her.

In her mind’s eye she could see him
spinning on his heels, leaping to his feet, and throwing himself between them
with a roar that she hadn’t actually heard. And now he was holding her,
covering her body with his, and breathing heavily into her hair. He wasn’t
moving or speaking otherwise, but he was breathing.

“Oh god, Seth!” she cried, finally
finding her voice. She pushed against him, praying she wouldn’t see a piece of
wood protruding from him, but for a long moment her efforts were in vain.

“Are you…all right?” Seth finally
asked,
his voice heavy beside her ear.

“Yes,” she replied, tears burning
her eyes.

He released her slowly then and
eased up until he was kneeling beside her. Her eyes widened, her heart leaping
to her throat, at the sight of the wood sticking out of his torso. It was on
the wrong side to threaten his heart, but it had definitely pierced him. There
was a slow trickle of blood trailing down his shirt.

Throat tight, she whispered,
“You…you’re hurt.”

“I’ll be fine,” he grunted, the
pain obvious in his voice. He reached down, wrapped his fist around the wood,
and tugged it out the way a child might tear off a Band-Aid.

Veronica had to bite her lip to
keep from crying out for him, though he didn’t make a sound. The flow of blood
increased for several seconds, but before it could slow there was another
outcry and the sound of a body hitting the floor. She turned, horror forming a
solid pit in her stomach, and watched as the Slayer stood up, crossbow held at
his side. The other vampire was dead and rapidly turning gray at his feet, a
stake sticking out of his chest.

Her back was against the wall a
beat later as Seth pulled her behind him, one knee on the ground and hands
curled as if he was contemplating ripping something apart. And he was growling.

There was a tense moment of silence
as man and vampire stared each other down, Veronica having to angle her head
just to see what was going on. There was no way she could squeeze out from
behind the wall that was Seth.

It was the Slayer who spoke first,
a look of frustration darkening his eyes. “Well, vampire, it’s your lucky day. I’ve
run out of stakes.” He held up his casted forearm, adding, “And we’ve already
seen what happens in close-quarters with you, so if you don’t want to risk your
dinner’s untimely death I suggest you let me pass.”

Tension was heavy in the air for
several more seconds before Seth growled, “Go.
Before I
change my mind.”

Veronica wasn’t sure she took a
breath until the Slayer had walked past them and disappeared down the stairs. Her
eyes fell as the relief flooded her, but then she realized she was staring at
the drying blood on the back of his shirt and her heart clenched again. “You’re
still hurt,” she said gently. Had he known those vampires? Would he be sad or
angry over their deaths?

“Don’t worry about it,” Seth
grunted, turning and moving forward enough to give her a little personal space.

He was going to play it off for her
sake, she just knew it. And she wasn’t going to have it. “No,” she said firmly,
“I’m going to worry about it until
it’s
better.”

“There’s no point,” Seth argued,
pushing to his feet and holding out a hand for her. “I need to call this in,
and then we can get the hell out of here.”

She released a breath, allowed him
to help her up, and nodded. He was standing and talking properly, so it wasn’t
critical, which meant she could let him do what he needed to. But then he was
going to let her help him—if she could—and they were talking about what had
happened here.

Chapter Nine

“Should you really be driving?”
Veronica asked as they made their way back toward her house. They had ended up
having to wait a few minutes, to make sure that the vampires took control of
the scene before any humans stumbled across it, but then Seth had taken her
hand and guided her to the car. And she spent each agonizing second sick with
worry over how badly injured he might really be. She knew, from what he’d told
her, that wooden stakes were enough to kill vampires—but did it have to pierce
their hearts? Or could it kill them slowly with wood-blood poisoning?

“It’s not that bad,” Seth said
calmly. His voice was stable and his hands appeared to be steady on the wheel,
but she had no way of knowing if he really was fine or if he was just putting
on a show. Her instincts insisted it was the latter.

“You didn’t really answer the
question,” she pushed, shifting in her seat to face him better.

“I’m fine to drive, I promise,”
Seth replied. He slid a sideways glance to her, clearly knowing she was staring
at him, and offered her a strained smile as reassurance.

“You can’t be ‘fine’,” she declared
firmly, “you were stabbed with a stake.”

“I know,” Seth began, his covered
eyes back on the road, “but I am. Vampires heal much faster than humans.”

Veronica straightened in her seat,
knowing they were close to her house, and said, “I hope you know you’re coming
inside when we get there.”

“If that will make you feel
better,” Seth promised. This time there was a strange combination of
frustration and amusement in his voice.

“It will.” Because once she got him
inside she could actually look at him and inspect the wound to her
satisfaction. She wanted to see what his definition of ‘fine’ really was. There
was just so much blood…. At the very least, with the amount of blood he’d lost,
she was sure he’d be feeling weaker than usual. He would need to eat something
to—oh, right. He didn’t exactly ‘eat’ the way she did.

Her stomach did a strange little
flip at that idea, but she wasn’t entirely sure it counted as pure nausea (not
that that made any sense). They hadn’t really discussed vampire eating habits
aside from the basics: they drank blood to survive and they didn’t need to
drain a human to satisfy themselves. Beyond that she was still assuming. Did
they need to drink more when they were weaker? That certainly seemed to be the
most relevant question, but she wasn’t sure how to broach the subject.