Sleight of Hand (6 page)

In the end, I wished David to be happy in what he became, while trying to avoid it myself. I just hoped we would remain friends through it all.

But there was one serious incident that the vampire security committee might have found out about that could ruin that scenario; I’d killed three vampires a year ago.

While I did some stretches, I let my gaze travel over the other cars. I spotted a face that I recognized: the nerd from Papa Dee’s. I had to smile. He didn’t look like anyone a crime boss would hire. I didn’t ignore him, but I wasn’t going to lose sleep over him.

After early attempts to get me settled into a nice, safe job like accounting failed, I managed to persuade the colonel to fast-track me into the police force. That had looked good until a year ago, when three men killed a couple of police officers and took a young girl, Emily Schumacher, hostage. I was in the area and I picked up the scent, literally. It was the first time I had crossed paths with vampires since that night in the jungle. I had gotten much better at it, evidently, or they weren’t up to scratch. By the end of it, all three were very dead.

What came out in the news was a fabrication that suited Lieutenant Morales and Colonel Laine, without any mention of me or vampires. The bodies disappeared into Laine’s army laboratories. Morales made captain. I left the police force. Emily went home to her parents. And her father made the most beautiful boots in the world for me.

Outside the spotlight, Captain Morales, Colonel Laine and I had a long discussion.

We agreed that there had to be a hidden vampire community in Denver, but that in the normal course of events, it kept on the right side of the law and the three dead vampires were rogues. I would keep searching and report anything to the army. Laine would update Morales. I was on call for Morales and if vampires broke the law, I might have to be involved in some form.

I had lived the last year with the worry that the vampire community would discover the truth about the rogues and either take exception to my actions or an extreme interest in me. Now my name was being raised by a security committee.

Concern for David was also a big factor in my worry. Given the potential for danger to friends and family, I tried to keep myself distant from people. All my old friends in the army I was forbidden to see. I saw my family: my lawyer sister, Kath, and my mother, Stacy, but we had grown a little apart when I was in the army and I kept it that way for their safety. David was my only new friend and not only was I lying to him and spying on him, I was putting him at risk.

As for lovers, I had a possibly incurable, national security level infection and the army scientists couldn’t even tell me whether it was contagious. So, despite mom’s hints about marriage and grandchildren, I was permanently, frustratingly, ‘between’ relationships. I’m a healthy woman with healthy desires and, excuse me, no fucking outlet.

I finished up my stretches and my worrying with a sigh and when I drove out, no one followed.

I stopped at a gym back near the office, where my membership had long since run out. My luck was in, and Sol was on the door. He was so damn cute that, if it weren’t for my no-touch rules, I would have enjoyed delivering on all the provocative suggestions I attacked him with. As it was, after ten minutes he let me in to shower and change, while he went and stuck his head under the cold water faucet.

Afterwards, I went by the office to check if there were any important mail or voicemails. In half an hour, I was back on I-25 and heading for the center of Denver as evening fell.

Downtown was a whole new ball game.

Chapter 6

Jennifer Kingslund’s chef, Troy Huber, lived on the fifth floor of a new apartment building. It was tucked between old warehouses that were being converted to apartments, with clubs and restaurants dotted around. It was a good area. Way out of my budget, of course. I drove past and headed towards the main streets to find a parking garage.

Since leaving the office to come here, I’d had the feeling of being followed again. This was an opportunity to shake it up and see what fell out. I’m not a great one for waiting.

I parked and grabbed my backpack. Down on 16
^th
Street, it was busy, with the tail end of people heading home after work and the start of the dinner rush for restaurants. Everyone was moving and half of them would be moving in the same direction I was, which might make it difficult to spot a tail. Operating in cities was not the particular specialty of Ops 4-10, but I’d had the basic training. Vary your walk, don’t look for the tail, just look at the people and wait for someone to stand out.

It was getting chilly with the threat of rain later, but the restaurants with outdoor seating were still doing well. Another time, I might have sat and had a cup of coffee and enjoyed watching the world walk by. Denver’s good for that, but I couldn’t remember the last time I had been carefree enough to indulge myself.

Troy’s apartment was a couple of blocks south. I headed away from it and crossed the street to a takeout restaurant, walking slowly and using the shop windows to look behind me. I picked up a burger and stood outside, taking my time juggling the sauce and salt packets and taking a few bites.

I saw him.

Without giving any indication I’d made him, I tossed the remains of the burger in a trash can and started walking again, back across the street and down towards the apartment.

Mr. Obvious was about six foot, dressed in dark brown jeans and a loose jacket. The jacket would be to hide his gun. He’d walked up the street behind me and followed me across, lingering a couple of stores away. His head jerked around when I started walking again, and he followed immediately.

After passing the entrance to the parking garage, I turned into a side alley, getting out of his line of sight, and sprinted away, thanking the stars for my backpack with my nice, big gun in it.

I wasn’t intending to outrun him, even though I probably could, so I ducked behind a dumpster and got the Heckler Koch out. The safety snicked off and I strained my ears to hear the sound of his footsteps following. What had he been wearing on his feet? Running shoes? Boots? It was a stupid, rookie mistake to miss that.

The alley was formed by the tall brick backs of offices and apartments. It was used for deliveries and services, and was punctuated with rolling steel doors. Few ordinary doors and almost no windows opened on the alley. It was dark, and the occasional spotlights over delivery doors only served to make the shadows deeper. With all that featureless brick, it should have had great acoustics.

I strained to hear. Out on the main street a car door slammed. A motor started. Traffic noises seeped in. Then someone close by grunted loudly, as if in pain. I came around the dumpster in a crouch with a double-handed grip on the gun, sighting back up the alley.

Mr. Obvious was lying face down on the ground, unmoving, one arm broken. His jacket was half torn off and a pair of even bigger guys were standing over him. One was taking his pistol and the other was looking down the alley at me.
Not
police. My skin prickled and out of old habit I gave them target names. Fang 1 and Fang 2 seemed appropriate. They were dressed in matching black suits, for God’s sake.

I clamped down on the hysterical giggle that followed the rush of adrenaline. The different groups on my tail were fighting over me and the two vampires stuck out, like, well, like black suits in summer in Denver. In daylight I’d have been able to pick them out across a quarter mile of city. They’d only been able to tail me by tailing my tail.

They walked slowly towards me. Fang 1 had Mr. Obvious’s gun held out between finger and thumb in front of him. That’s not to say he didn’t have a slick move where he whipped it up and fired, all in a heartbeat, but he seemed to be trying to make it clear that he wasn’t going to shoot me. I let them come. I was pretty sure that these guys were representatives of the local vampire community and that dictated that I treat them with a certain respect unless they gave cause for anything else.

At twenty yards, I spoke. “That’s far enough, gentlemen.”

I hadn’t put my gun down and whereas it wasn’t quite aiming at either one of them, it was close enough. They stopped. My nose prickled with the copper scent of vampire, overlaid with something sweet. Cinnamon?

I jerked my head at the guy lying behind them. “Thanks for that, I guess. How is he?”

“He’s unconscious,” said Fang 1. “I’m going to unload his gun and throw it in the trash, okay?”

I nodded, not taking my eyes off either of them. I watched him strip the magazine slowly and carefully, clear the chamber and toss everything into the dumpster.

They glared at the HK in my hands, but hey, I didn’t ask them to toss the gun. I wasn’t going to shoot them if they weren’t armed, but I didn’t want them to know that.

“Unless I’m mistaken,” I said slowly, “I have just had the pleasure of being saved by two of Denver’s very own fang-dangling vampires.”

They didn’t smile. Maybe the gun ruined their sense of humor. Maybe a vampire’s smile shows the fangs and means something else.

“You’re coming with us,” said Fang 2.

“The old ‘resistance is futile’ line, eh?” I sighed. “Gentlemen, thank you for your help this evening. However, I am holding the gun and I will not go with you.”

“You will, you know,” said Fang 1 too loudly, but Fang 2 ruined it by twitching. I talk too much when I should be listening, but I can read a tell.

I ran;
up
the side of the brick building. Enough to give me height and confuse Fang 3 who had snuck up, really quietly, behind me. I backflipped over his head and tried to kick down with my boot. It was Hollywood style and it wouldn’t have worked, but anyway, Fang 3 had already moved. Damn, but he was quick. Quick, but not quick enough to avoid tangling up with Fang 1 and 2, who’d come in like a pair of Dobermans.

I landed unbalanced, which gave them time to turn on me. The first one I punched in the jaw and he reeled back, grunting in surprise. I was punching left hand because the right was keeping my options open with the HK, but I’m strong with both hands. The second suit lashed out and half caught me in the ribs, making me grunt in turn. I whipped his face with the HK, but a third painful punch from the other side clipped my jaw and I saw stars.

If it’s not working, do something different,
Top would have said to me. I backpedaled to get free and brought the HK back up.

“I
will
use this if I have to,” I said, aiming at Fang 1’s face, and they slowed up. “Call it even, guys. Back off and leave me alone.”

Unfortunately, that wasn’t going to work either. Either they didn’t believe me or they didn’t care, which was really scary. Fang 3 started to edge to one side and in a few moments they would be spread out and I couldn’t handle them like that. I had to find a way of getting them to come to me one at a time.

I turned and sprinted down the alley into the gloom. Assuming they had been together to start with, if Fang 3 had gotten in that quickly behind me, there was a way to get out quickly too. I was betting one of the few doors off the alley led into a building that was being converted. I could hear them running right behind me. I got the horrible feeling they could have run much faster if they wanted and all they were doing was herding me. That would mean there was another black suit up ahead somewhere. As soon as I thought it, I saw him come around the corner at the far end, silhouetted by the streetlights. He start sprinting towards me. One more option gone.

One of the doors opening onto the alley looked as if it wasn’t fully shut and I shoulder-charged it. It slammed open and I was through. I was right, this old warehouse was being converted to apartments. Partition boards stood stacked against walls, boxes of tiles and cement littered the floor. This had to be the way Fang 3 had gotten in behind me. It was long after work hours and he must have disabled the alarm, so I couldn’t expect any help. I got the door shut and slid the bolt home just as the first black suit crashed against it. The door was a temporary fixture made of plywood and it would hold them awhile, but there wasn’t anything else to secure it, other than a bench, which I shoved up against it.

I ran inside the darkened building and up the stairs as a foot kicked right through the door. A hand followed and started scrabbling for the bolt. Note to self: avoid being kicked full-on by these guys.

I was going up the steps four at a time when I heard the door heaved open, scraping the bench along the ground. I reached the third floor before I spotted what I needed, some solid timber poles. I grabbed one about five feet long and another short offcut and made the next floor, checking down the stairwell. I could see all four black suits—moving shadows on the stairs, shown by zebra bars of light shining in through the streetside windows. They were eerily silent, except for the panting and the slap of their shoes on the bare wooden steps.

At least they were panting. That suggested that they could get tired.

The HK was back in the bag when they started up the last flight. I stood in plain sight, holding the long timber pole upright to one side, like a military standard, both hands on it, my weight on my back leg. I was just inside a doorway. I tried to look confident and as if I knew what I was doing, but my heart was hammering and my mouth was dry. I had no idea what it took to persuade a vampire to stop, or what it took to knock one out. All I had ever done before was kill them, which was an option of very last resort now.

Seeing me waiting made them slow down: first mistake. They came straight at me: second mistake. They came in line, one at a time: third and worst mistake. Their strength in numbers should have been used to rush and overwhelm me from different directions.

The first got the timber offcut, which had been lying across my front foot, flicked up into his face. Although there was no danger from it, he reacted and jerked his hands up to his face, leaving his front unprotected. I hit him hard in the stomach with the end of the long pole, hard enough to propel him backwards into the others. Not hard enough to rupture internal organs, I hoped. I really, really didn’t want the vampires to have any more reasons for coming after me.