When Darkness Hungers: A Shadow Keepers Novel (Shadow Keepers 5) (12 page)

“That’s a fucked-up way of looking at it, Alexis. I’m walking into a crime scene. You could be walking into a slaughter. Wait for me. We’ll go together.”

“Edgar …”

“Just do this for me. I don’t want you to end up dead.”

“Fine. Okay, fine.”

He looked at her as if he could read her mind. She pasted on an innocent smile. After a second, Edgar sighed and nodded. “All right. I’m out of here. I’m calling you later.”

“I know.”

Another nod, firmer this time, as if he was working hard to convince himself. Then he slid behind the wheel of his car, started the engine, and zipped away.

Alexis shot a quick glance at Leena, then marched down the driveway to where she’d left the Ducati.

“I thought you said you weren’t going,” Leena said.

“You believed me?”

Her friend scowled, but didn’t protest. “Just be careful, okay? If this does turn out to be the vamp that got away, he’s going to be pissed as hell when he sees you. A pissed vampire is a very bad thing.”

“I know.” For the briefest moment she considered staying, but there weren’t that many opportunities for her to track a vampire. And how many people would die if she didn’t go? Tonight, tomorrow, the next night? She had a chance to dust one right now, and she was damn well going to take it.

CeeCee Jane Gantz dropped her backpack in the sand and rummaged through it as her stomach growled.
When she’d left home a week ago, she’d taken a loaf of bread and a jar of Jif peanut butter with her. Smooth, not chunky, because who wants little pieces of peanuts all jammed up into your teeth?

She’d also taken $175 and one of her stepfather’s credit cards. The cash had gone fast. A bus ticket from Barstow. A jacket from Goodwill once she’d realized how cold sleeping on the beach could be. She’d always thought beaches were supposed to be balmy and sunny, but the water around Los Angeles turned her toes blue, and once the sun set, the air was so cold it made goose pimples rise on her skin.

Not that she was complaining. Goose pimples were a hell of a lot better than bruises.

She’d bought socks and tennis shoes, too, along with another pair of jeans. And all of that had cut into her savings. Then there’d been food. Early on, she’d been stupid. She’d bought food from vendors on the Santa Monica Pier, because how could she not? She was
there
. Finally there at the end of the world, without her bastard of a stepfather or her crackhead of a mother. It was paradise, and she couldn’t pass up the corn dogs any more than she could walk past the carousel and not ride on it once. Even if she was the only rider over the age of six.

The cash had run out yesterday, and she’d sucked it up and used the credit card at an ATM, hoping Burt hadn’t changed the PIN. He hadn’t—but the account was maxed out, so she’d walked away with nothing but disappointment and a gnawing in her stomach that had nothing to do with nerves and everything to do with food.

The nerves part started later. Because when you have
no money and nothing to do and the only way to entertain yourself is to sit on the beach and watch the world go by, you have a lot of time to think. And what CeeCee thought about was movies. How in the movies the cops could always find you when you used a credit card.

Burt didn’t like the cops, and Burt didn’t like her.

But Burt did like Burt. And he really didn’t like being screwed.

Which meant she’d probably made a big mistake trying to use that credit card.

She’d been in Santa Monica on the Third Street Promenade at the time, and as soon as she’d realized what a complete idiot she’d been she’d headed to the beach and started walking south. She’d stopped in Venice, tired and hungry, and not able to see much once the sun had gone down.

Now she was parked on a towel someone had left on the beach—a little karmic gift—pawing through her few belongings and wishing that the towel person had left a cooler of food and drinks as well.

She dumped the backpack out, and her in-depth search was rewarded. A restaurant packet of Saltine crackers. Two of them all snug inside a little plastic balloon.

It was practically a gourmet meal.

She savored it, nibbling at the corner of the cracker, eating slowly, trying not to think about the fact that tomorrow she’d have to either steal food or figure out a way to earn money. She wasn’t naïve—she knew a sixteen-year-old girl had options. But Burt had taken that for free, and there was no way she was ever giving it up again.

Just thinking of him made her nervous, and she swiveled around, fearing he’d tracked the credit card. That
he’d gotten in the truck and driven from Barstow. That he’d found her and was coming at her, unbuckling his belt as he walked. Pulling it from the loops. Twisting it in his hand.

No.

She was safe now. Sure, she was hungry, but the trash cans on the pier were full of half-finished morsels. And she had a towel now, and there were showers on the beach. Tomorrow she’d find a job waiting tables. Or washing cars. Or something. She didn’t care what because anything she did was better than where she’d been.

The moon wasn’t full, but it was still big in the sky, and the light it cast reflected off the sand, making the world seem like something out of one of those old black-and-white movies. The shadows seemed to move around her, but CeeCee just frowned and told herself she was being stupid. Tired. Seeing things on the beach the way little kids see monsters in closets.

Then the shadow moved again.

What now?

She shifted her position, getting into a squat so that she could take off running if she had to. She rolled up the towel and shoved it into her backpack. Then she hiked the pack up on her shoulder and sat there, muscles tensed, body ready.

And she felt like a complete and total idiot.

There wasn’t anything out there. She was just being paranoid. Burt was a dick, that was for damn sure. But there were miles and miles of beach in Los Angeles, and why would he think to look for her on the beach anyway?

She started to relax—and that’s when she saw the
flicker again. Nothing big. Just a hint of motion. But enough to make her certain that she wasn’t imagining it.

And that’s when she realized that she really and truly was a complete and total idiot. Burt might be the only sadistic asshole at 414 Rosedale Road, but in Los Angeles there were plenty of them. They went out at night, and they preyed on stupid teenagers who slept on the beach.

The sea air hung wet and chilly, as if a blanket had been tossed over the previously sunbaked sand.

Alexis hurried down the Venice Beach bike path, vacant at this time of night. Charming cottages rose up to her left, illuminated only by pale moonlight and the occasional electric lamplight shining through a window. She noticed it all, but she wasn’t really taking it in. All her attention was focused on finding the vampire.

Is he on the hunt right now? Has he found a new victim?

The moonlight provided some illumination, and she took in her surroundings as she walked.
Dammit, where is he?
The ball’s inability to pinpoint the bastard’s location frustrated her, but the warmth it generated let her know that at least she was close.

Maybe he’s sated. Maybe draining Penny Martinez filled the bastard up
.

On her right, sand sparkled in the moonlight, stretching out toward an infinity of ocean, the froth on the rolling waves glistening white in the moonlight.

She studied her surroundings, trying to intuit where a vampire would go. Surely not over there along that empty expanse of sand. Much more likely it was hiding in the narrow walkways and alleys that cut through the quaint beachside neighborhood. Possibly trolling through
restaurant parking lots, looking behind dumpsters for new prey. The homeless. The runaways.

She thought of Tori and quickened her pace, heading toward the street. She’d do a pass up and down the alleys, listening for movement and hopefully catching a vampire instead of just a stray cat or two. A high-pitched scream cut the night. She froze, head cocked, trying to judge the direction of the sound.

Goddammit, it
is
coming from the beach
.

She turned fast and started sprinting toward the lingering tones of the scream, the sound still vibrating in the thick night air. It had sounded like a girl, and Alexis hoped to hell she was okay, and at the same time she wished the girl would scream again to help Alexis locate her.

A movement across the sand caught her attention, and she raced toward it. She wasn’t nervous—she’d taken down vamps before, not to mention mobsters and serial killers. But she
was
pissed, and the emotion curled inside her, warm and welcome. Fueling her muscles and ramping up her strength.

The beach was mostly flat, but there was a rise approaching a drainage ditch. She hauled ass up the incline, and saw a burly male with a ripped black T-shirt, tight jeans, and bushy eyebrows.
That’s him. The one that got away. The one whose heart I missed. Penny Martinez’s blood is on my hands. And now another girl struggles in his arms
.

Alexis didn’t waste any time sizing up the details. She raised her crossbow and aimed at the vamp’s back.
Steady. Steady
.

Zing!

The stake went flying—which did absolutely no good
whatsoever since the instant it was released, the vampire rolled over, taking the girl with him. The stake landed harmlessly in the sand. Goddammit all to hell …

The vampire ripped a chunk out of the girl’s neck, then leaped up, his mouth dripping with blood, his eyes burning with hatred.

“You again,” he snarled as the girl on the ground moaned, blood pouring out of her, staining the sand and looking like a pool of oil in the dim light of the night. “You damn little
bitch
.”

Shit
, she’d made it worse. For the girl, and for herself.

Maybe so, but now was hardly the time to kick herself about it. Especially since the vampire was launching himself right at her.

The brunt of his weight got her in the shoulder, and she toppled over from the force of his blow. She landed sprawled out on the sand, the vampire half on her and leaning in. His weight pinned down one arm, but the one holding a stake was free. No way could she stake his heart from the back, but she could hurt him, and she thrust the stake down hard at the awkward angle, managing to pierce his jacket and embed it in his flesh.

He reared up in agony and she snagged the moment, immediately shifting her weight to free her other arm—and the spring-loaded stake hidden in the jacket sleeve. She flexed, the motion sending the stake flying forward, and it slammed straight into his heart.

He fell backward, howling, and Alexis scrambled to her feet. Something wasn’t right, but her mind wasn’t telling her what. All she knew was that she had to get to the girl and get them both the hell out of there.

She plowed forward, running as fast as the sand would let her, then dropped to her knees at the girl’s side. It was
bad—really bad. The girl’s face was gaunt, and it seemed to glow white in the moonlight.

“I’m going to get you out of here,” Alexis said, and almost cried when she saw the girl’s slow blink in reply. Her lips parted. A blood bubble formed at her mouth.

“Hush,” Alexis said. “Don’t try to talk.”

“Rr …,” the girl whispered.

“Please.” Alexis blinked back tears, her mind full of this girl, of her sister. “Please, don’t talk. Just hang on.”

“Rr—n.”

Alexis frowned … and then understood.
Run
. The girl was telling her to run, and Alexis didn’t question it. She just bolted right over the girl, away from the vampire who had to be behind her.
He hadn’t turned to dust. I should have realized! If he’d really been dead, he would have turned to dust!

As she ran, she scrambled to get her crossbow freed up and ready. Fire the thing, nail the creature, and then get back to help the girl. She twisted around, getting the bow positioned, ready to release the trigger, then
blam—
his body impacted hers.