Kiss the Dead (7 page)

I addressed the prisoners. “If you try to escape, try to run, we will shoot you.”

“Because of the Preternatural Endangerment Act,” Blondie said.

“That gives us the legal right to kill you, yes, but the two dead cops, killed by vampire bites, make you all murder suspects. Vampires suspected of murder can be killed if they try to escape.”

“If we were people, it wouldn’t work like that,” he said.

“With two dead cops, it might,” I said.

“Not legally,” he said. I grabbed him by the arm and helped him to his feet hard enough that he stumbled and I had to catch him.

He whispered, “You’re as strong as we are, and I felt you feed on the other officer. You’re not human either.”

I pushed him away from me, forgot he was wearing shackles to go with his cuffs, and had to catch him again. No one else in the room could have moved fast enough to catch him with barely a pause between the push, the start of the fall, and the catch—no human in the room.

“See,” he said.

I got him shuffling along with the others that were being helped to their feet. I wasn’t sure if I needed to put him close to me so I could watch him, or far away so he couldn’t keep fucking with me. Why was he getting on my nerves so badly? Answer: because I believed what he’d just said. I’d raised my first dead by accident when I was a teenager, saw my first ghost at ten; the dead had always liked me. I wasn’t like most of the Marshals; they were humans who just happened to be good at killing monsters. I was one of the monsters.

A girl stumbled in her shackles. I grabbed her arm to steady her, and she mumbled, “Thank you,” then turned and saw who was touching her. She let out a little shriek and began to struggle. I held on just a moment, caught off guard by the fear that just radiated through her, from her, down my hand, across my tongue. I could taste her fear the way I could taste it on a shapeshifter or a human. Anything that’s afraid of you is food. I let her go, and she fell, unable to catch herself. The other vampires tried to help her up, but they were struggling, too. Zerbrowski finally helped her to her feet.

The vampires watched me and even behind the sullenness, the anger, there was fear. What do the monsters fear? Other monsters, of course.

I caught Blondie watching me, but it was Grandma who spat the word at me. “Monster!”

I said the only thing I could think of. “That’s Marshal Monster to you, Grandma.”

Zerbrowski said, “Why don’t I have any nifty nicknames?”

“No one’s afraid of you, Zerbrowski,” I said, and smiled at him for trying to make a joke out of it.

“You’re just so bad-ass, I can’t compete.”

“That’s what your wife says.”

“Oooh,” Smith said, “that was low.”

Zerbrowski grinned at me. “I don’t have a problem with you being the better man, Anita; I never have.”

If I hadn’t been armed to the teeth, surrounded by murderous vampires, in view of way too many other cops, I’d have hugged Zerbrowski. “Thanks, Zerbrowski.” But I tried to show him in my eyes how much it had meant to me, that guy moment where you can’t actually say how many emotions you’ve got running through your brain.

He smiled, not his cocky teasing grin, but that gentle one that let his eyes look tired and sort of tender. He gave a small nod, and I smiled back, and that was it. He understood that I’d understood that he’d understood. It took us one sentence, two looks, and a nod—with another woman it would have been at least five minutes of out-loud talking. Lucky for me I spoke fluent guy.

Z
ERBROWSKI HAD TO
take a call from Dolph, so it was Stevens, Urlrich, and Smith who helped me move another seven vampires to the big freight elevator. I decided to keep Blondie near me, because if he was screwing with me this badly, I didn’t trust how bad he’d fuck with the others. Besides, to move him away meant to admit he was fucking with me, and that I didn’t know what to do about it. The only way I knew how to face anything was head on, so Blondie stayed by me. He wasn’t half as disturbing as the elevator. It was a bare, metal cage, one that actually needed someone to pull a lever and drive the thing. It was open to the cool, dark shaft with wooden slats as a door on one side, and then metal mesh as a second door, but the rest of the elevator was truly a cage, open to the shaft. It was a killing box if someone could get above us.

I put Smith on the lever to drive the elevator. He’d driven it last time and hadn’t crashed us. I tucked my AR to my shoulder, then snugged my cheek to it and let out a breath, so that I was still as I pointed the barrel upward through the metalwork.

“Why are you pointing up?” Stevens asked.

I kept my attention on the top of the shaft as I answered him, “Some vampires can fly.”

“I thought that was just movie shit,” he said.

“Not just movie shit,” I said. I let my eyes relax, searching the darkness above us for movement, just movement, because there shouldn’t have been any.

“Moving,” Smith said.

I flexed my knees a little, steadied myself, and kept watching the darkness above us. “Go,” I said.

The elevator shuddered to life. It was like trying to get your sea legs, and then it smoothed out, and we started down.

“Most people don’t look up,” Blondie asked.

“I’m not most people,” I said softly; my attention was all on the darkness as it fell away from us. So far, the only movement was us, and the cables. I forced myself not to stare at the cables, but to keep my vision soft and not choose any one thing to look at, like you look for animals in the woods when you’re hunting. You don’t look for deer, you look for movement at first; once you have movement then you let your brain figure out what made the movement and if there’s a shape to go with it. It was actually harder than it sounded to not “look” at any one thing, but to keep your eyes looking for things that weren’t there when there was so much solid stuff to look at. The eyes want to look at something; the brain wants certainty, not shadows.

“Almost there, Anita,” Smith said.

I braced for it, and the elevator stopped with another shudder, and a bump. I swayed—we all did—and bumped into Blondie. The moment I touched him, I felt his fear. He’d been shielding like a son of a bitch, so close to me, but touching makes all the vampire mind tricks stronger, and I mean my vampire mind tricks, not his. I heard the doors opening; Smith was closer, so he had probably been the one to open them, but I didn’t look at him, I looked at Blondie.

We had a moment of meeting each other’s eyes. Smith and Urlrich were ushering the vampires in front out of the elevator. “You’re afraid,” I said softly.

“I’m in police custody for murder; shouldn’t I be afraid?” he asked, but his eyes were too wide, his lips parted. If he’d been human his breathing would have been fast, his heart racing. He’d been dead for twenty years; he shouldn’t have been showing this many signs of stress, unless he was distracting me from something else?

I looked past him and caught a glimpse of the grandmother vamp, as Smith and Urlrich and another uniform led her out. I looked back at Blondie. “Don’t do anything stupid,” I said.

“Who are you talking to?” Stevens asked.

We all moved forward, sort of herding the vampires in front of us. “Him,” I said.

Blondie smiled. I didn’t like the smile, at all.

I grabbed him by the arm and hurried him out of the elevator to catch up with the others, but shackles mean you have to go slow. I didn’t want to leave Stevens alone with the last of the vamps in the elevator, but… I had a bad feeling.

We got out into the last bit of the warehouse, as Smith and others opened the main doors and started easing the chained vampires out into the thicker darkness outside. They were outside; only Urlrich was left in the doorway. Stevens moved forward with the last of them. I came at the rear, with Blondie going even slower than he needed to be ahead of me.

The grandmother looked back. I looked into her eyes, and I saw it, saw what she was about to do, but I was yards away from her, from the door. I met her frightened eyes, watched her gather her courage. Urlrich had to catch a vampire that fell in his shackles; he helped them out the door, and it was just Stevens and me with the last few. He was closer than I was.

I called out, “Stevens, watch Grandma.”

He turned and did what I said, but he didn’t bring his gun up, only his eyes. Smith hadn’t dealt with enough vampires.

“Don’t do it, Grandma,” I said, “Don’t move.”

“Or you’ll kill me,” she said.

“Escape attempts allow us to use deadly force; don’t do it.”

Stevens was looking from her to me. “What’s going on?”

“She’s considering,” I said.

“Considering what?” he asked.

“Running,” I said.

“How can you tell?” he asked.

“I just can.” I wasn’t being psychic; it was just years of doing this shit. I just knew.

“What?” Stevens asked.

“Just don’t let her run, Stevens,” Urlrich said. He’d come back inside, and he hit the slide on his shotgun. It made that thick, meaty sound that raises the hair on your arms, and makes your shoulder blades tighten in anticipation of something bad. The vampires flinched, except for her.

“Don’t,” I said.

“Stevens,” Urlrich said.

Stevens put his gun point-blank against the woman’s back. She smiled at me, and the fear was gone. Shit. She turned that smile up to Stevens, and she was suddenly your favorite grandmother. She radiated good cheer; you could almost smell the cookies baking.

“No one move!” Urlrich said, and his voice had that drill sergeant bite to it.

She smiled at Stevens. I would have liked to say it was vampire mind tricks, but she looked so harmless, so human, so like the storybook grandmother. His gun lowered. I think the rookie just didn’t have it in him to shoot, point-blank, into a handcuffed elderly woman. She looked so human.

She turned and ran, and Stevens didn’t shoot her. Urlrich was blocked by other vampires that weren’t running. He couldn’t use the shotgun.

I yelled, “Fuck!” and started to run. I yelled for Smith as I went. Guns exploded outside—lots of them.

I yelled, “No!” I don’t know what I was saying no to, but I knew that whatever was happening outside, the vampires had wanted it to happen, and if they wanted it, it was bad.

I felt the vampires. Felt their power. They were going all vampire
apeshit. I ran to the door, AR up and ready; the darkness blazed with holy fire. Every holy object in the courtyard was glowing with white, cool fire, like stars had fallen to the earth and just kept shining, but stars are just suns, distant, burning suns; they burned now.

There were bodies on the ground. The vampires were screaming, falling to the ground, trying to hide their eyes from the glow. It was so bright that I couldn’t look directly at any of it, so everyone was shadows and shapes in the bright, bright lights.

My own cross burst into light. I put my back against the wall on the side of the open door and wheeled around to point my AR at the few vampires left inside. Urlrich was doing the same thing on the other side of the door. His tie-tack cross was blazing. We were both squinting against the light, trying to aim past it. It was the serious downside to the holy objects. If the vampires fell over and huddled from the light, you were fine, but if they didn’t, it was hard to shoot at them. Somehow I knew what vampire I’d be looking at.

Blondie had Stevens in front of him, using him as a shield. They were both on their knees. The broken chain from his cuffs to his shackles dangled near Stevens’s face.

The vampire’s eyes glowed like gray ice with moonlight behind it. “The young officer has no faith in his cross.”

Stevens’s cross-shaped lapel pin wasn’t glowing.

“Stevens,” Urlrich said. He had his shotgun to his shoulder, but he didn’t dare use it, not with the two of them so close together. If there was a shot to be had, it would have to be mine. I was good enough, if the range was any judge, to hit Blondie’s head where it peeked out from around Stevens, but that was at the range. If I didn’t hit inside the seven ring, I just adjusted my aim. If I missed this shot, I’d hit Stevens. It would be a head shot, and there would be no second chance for Stevens. But I couldn’t aim past the damn glow of my cross. I tore it off and threw it into the corner.

“Blake,” Urlrich said, voice low and urgent.

I ignored him and let my eyes adjust to the dimness.

Blondie tucked his head even tighter against Stevens so that it was
just the barest sliver of his face, and that one glowing eye half lost in Stevens’s short hair. “Don’t do it,” the vampire said.

I slowed my breathing first, it all begins with the breathing, and then I slowed my heartbeat, timed it. I thought softly, in time to that slowing beat, “Fuck… fuck… fuck… fuck.…”

“Even if you can make the shot, you can’t make it fast enough.”

I kept my voice even, my vision on that edge of face. “Let… him… go.” I stopped looking at Stevens’s wide eyes and tried to just see my target.

He ducked completely behind Stevens so that I had no head shot except Stevens. I kept my aim on where his head had been last. He’d peek back out. He wouldn’t be able to resist—probably.

He spoke, hidden. “You’re talking in time to your heartbeat.”

“Yes,” I said softly.

“Don’t,” Stevens said, voice strained with the pressure of the vampire’s hand against his throat.

“If I tear his throat out now, you don’t have a shot.”

Urlrich said, “You kill him, and I’ll shoot you through his body.”

“I’m already dead; you can’t scare me.”

“You’re… not… dead,” I said. I was having trouble focusing where I thought his head would pop out. You can’t focus like that forever; you have to take the shot, or rest your eyes. They give out before your arms give out on holding the shooting stance.

“I am dead,” the vampire said.

“Not… yet…” I said.

I saw an edge of blond hair. My breathing just stopped, everything stopped. I pulled the trigger in a well of silence, where the emptiness waited for my heartbeat.

The blond hair fell back behind Stevens, and I thought I’d missed. I waited for the vampire to tear his throat out as I ran forward, gun to shoulder, yelling, “Fuck!”