Penumbra (Spook Squad 3)

She ducked his first blow and let fly with one of her own. Her fist sank deep into his stomach, but he didn’t even grunt in response. Too far gone, she thought as he snarled, revealing elongated teeth.

A shout came from the direction of the club entrance—one of the bouncers, telling her to knock it off. Like that was going to happen! She blocked another of the vamp’s blows, then hit him over the head with her gun as hard as she could. He staggered back, shaking his head and spraying blood in the process. It splattered across her coat and face, stinging like fine acid. But she ignored it and raised her weapon.

“Agent Ryan, SIU,” she said, speaking loud enough that the rapidly approaching bouncers might hear. “Raise your hands and don’t move, or I will shoot.”

The vampire either didn’t hear, didn’t understand or simply didn’t care. He just snarled and launched himself at her.

She pulled the trigger.

The shot hit dead center in the middle of his forehead and burned through his skull, cindering flesh and bone and brain matter along the way.

He dropped dead at her feet and didn’t move. She didn’t look down. She barely even dared to breathe lest the smell make her lose the control she had over her stomach.

Instead, she wiped her face with the sleeve of her coat, then got out her badge and showed it to the two

horrified bouncers. They stopped immediately, the aggression that had been so evident moments ago slipping away. Then she tapped her wristcom and made a call to the SIU.

“Agent Sam Ryan, badge number 1934,” she said, when Christine came on the line. “I need a cleanup team at my current location. And please inform Director Byrne that the escaped prisoner has been dealt with.”

“Cleanup team three has been notified,” Christine answered, her digital tones sexier than any computer-generated form had a right to be. “And I’ve sent a message to Director Byrne.”

“Thanks, Christine.” Sam hung up and glanced at the bouncers. “You want to keep the gawkers back for me?”

They nodded and began to deal with the gathering crowd. She stepped over the body of the vamp and opened the car door. “You all right, Minister?”

He nodded, his face a little paler than normal. “How did you know that vampire was outside?”

“I didn’t. He was an entirely different threat than the one I felt before.” She lifted her gaze and let it roam the street. No sense of anything evil or even out of place. Not until she looked past the crowd to the nightclub’s entrance, anyway. Braggart was there, watching, a hint of amusement touching his thin lips. And if the tingle running across her skin was anything to go by, the redheaded stranger was there, too, even if she couldn’t see him.

Not that she could do anything about his presence right then. She didn’t dare leave Wetherton alone. After all, the red-haired man might be nothing more than a decoy meant to draw her away from the minister’s side. And though she wanted to get out of here as much as Wetherton did, she couldn’t whisk him away until the SIU had arrived and the vampire had been dealt with. Protocol had to be followed, most especially in this situation.

She met Wetherton’s gaze again. “I have to give my report to the SIU team I called in, and until then, I’m afraid, we’ll just have to wait here.”

He scowled. “Why can’t I just go inside and continue my meeting? Braggart hasn’t left yet, surely.”

“He hasn’t, no. But we’re being watched, Minister, and I prefer not to take a risk right now.”

“Watched?” A hint of emotion—not fear, not panic, but something in between—flitted through his eyes. He looked around briefly, then met her gaze again. “By whom?”

“I don’t know.” She briefly toyed with the idea of telling him their watcher was more than likely military, but let it go. Until she knew where, exactly, Wetherton’s alliances lay, it was better not to give him too much information. For her sake, as much as his.

He grunted his displeasure, then reached forward and grabbed the car’s phone. “Shut the door, please. I have a few personal calls to make.”

Ungrateful bastard, she thought, as she slammed the door shut. Not even a thank-you for saving his life. But then, he probably figured she was only doing what she was being paid to do—risking her life to save his lab-made ass.

When she glanced back at the gathered crowd, Braggart had gone. She studied the street beyond the club but couldn’t find any sign of him. Unusual for a human to move so fast in such a brief time—unless, of course, he was something more than human.

And she had a strange feeling Braggart was, even if she hadn’t sensed him as such. Why she felt this, she couldn’t say, but maybe it was connected to the odd sensation that she knew him. Knew the soul of him, if not the outer layer.

Which in itself suggested a shapeshifter of some kind.

She frowned but let the thought go, simply because it was just another question for which she had no answer.

As she looked back to the club’s doorway, she noticed that the red-haired stranger had also slipped away. His presence was a fading tingle, getting more distant by the minute. And the night felt cleaner for his disappearance.

She put her weapon away and leaned back against the car, waiting and watching.

It took ten minutes for the cleanup team to arrive. Two men took care of the vamp’s body, while the man in charge—an agent she didn’t recognize—took statements from her, Wetherton and the driver.