The Fed with the blue eyes hesitated and looked over his shoulder. “What do you mean by some thing?" The ethereal form disappeared as quickly as it had appeared. Maybe it had been nothing more than a puff of colder air drifting in from the vent ahead.
She dragged her gaze back to the agent's. She couldn't tell him it was vampires, because he wasn't likely to believe her until he saw them himself. And maybe not even then.
"Just that. There are five ‘somethings', actually."
"Probably homeless folk.” Even so, she heard the sound of a safety clicking off. They proceeded more cautiously. The flashlight beams bit through the darkness, spotlights that somehow left the greater darkness looking more ominous. They came into a chamber—a fact evident only by the bigger feeling of space. The Feds in front of her stopped, making her do a quick sidestep to avoid running into them.
Then she saw why they'd stopped.
The vampires were spotlighted by the flashlights as they stood in the middle of the chamber. All of them had the same disdainful expression, their arms crossed and stances casual. They were all wearing leather jackets, faded denims and black biker boots.
All of them were blood-smeared.
Guns came out of holsters. The vamps’ sneers became more noticeable, revealing bloody canines.
"F.B.I.,” Agent Blue Eyes stated. “Slowly drop any weapons you might be holding and raise your hands."
The vamp in the middle chortled. “Know what F.B.I. stands for?” His voice was guttural, like that of a man who'd spent too many years smoking. “Fuckin’ bloody idiots."
"Raise your hands,” Blue Eyes repeated stonily.
"Yeah right,” the vamp said. “Boys, let's show ‘em." Night stole the vampires from sight, and all hell broke loose.
Chapter Eleven
Nikki ducked to her right and ran forward. The night stirred in front of her, something she felt more than saw. She flung out her hand. Kinetic energy caressed the night, and something heavy hit the distant wall with a grunt.
She ran on. The necklace was a ribbon of fire, burning with fear. Anne was very close. A booming of a gun cut across the tense silence, followed quickly by another. Laughter spun through the night, a harsh, sarcastic sound.
A man screamed—a sound that quickly became a gurgling cry. She closed her ears to the noise, knowing it was more important to get to Anne than to help the cops right now. The harsh laughter stopped, and the scuff of flesh hitting flesh filled the night. Michael had joined the fray. Goose bumps ran across her skin, a chill sensation that warned of danger. She slid to a stop but was flung backwards as the night found form. She hit the ground with a grunt, her flashlight slipping from her hand and scuttling away into the darkness. The vampire was heavy, smelling of blood and sweat and sex. He snarled, canines extended and dripping wet, dark moisture.
Blood.
Her stomach rolled, and energy surged through her body, the sheer force of it making every muscle shake. “Burn in hell,” she muttered and thrust her hand in his face. But what came out was a mix of kinetic energy and fire. It ripped the vampire from her body and flung him across the room like a flaming comet. He hit the far wall with a splat and slipped to the floor, the high-pitched sound of his screams stinging the night as he rolled in a futile attempt to put out the inferno consuming him.
For several heartbeats she could only stare. Despite her words, she hadn't intended to burn him. While she felt no sympathy for the vampire, fear caught her heart and squeezed it tight. This was only one more piece of evidence that suggested she was changing faster—and in more ways—than she'd feared. But now was not the time to dwell on such fears. She thrust to her feet then reached for the nearby wall, leaning against it heavily as the darkness swam around her. She felt drained, weak, her legs shaking and barely supporting her weight.
The back of her neck prickled in warning. She looked up, saw the slight blur of movement across the darkness. Knew another vampire was coming at her.
She reached again for kinetic energy. Pain slithered through her body and arrowed into her brain, became hot lances of fire that had her blinking back tears. She'd barely used her abilities, and yet she was close to reaching her limits. The flames, whatever they were, obviously took a lot more strength than kinetic energy.
The unseen vampire screamed, and the wind of his approach stroked cold air across her skin. She raised her hand, energy dancing like weakened fireflies across her fingers and pain booming through her brain. But suddenly Michael was in front of her, flowing into being from the inky gloom. He grabbed the vampire with one hand, then twisted him around and snapped his neck in one smooth, vicious movement. He tossed the body to one side and turned, gently touching her cheek. Are you okay?
She nodded, a little chilled by his ruthless efficiency. Go help the cops. He flowed back into the darkness. She took a deep breath, then pushed away from the wall and retrieved her flashlight. Clenching her fingers around the bagged necklace, she continued. The frantic pulsing led her past an entrance that had been smashed into being through bricks and into a smaller room. There, on a soiled, sorry-looking mattress, she found Anne.
She lay on the mattress, curled up in a fetal position, her skin marred by bruises and bloody nips. Her eyes were closed, and even when Nikki knelt beside her, they didn't open. She touched a hand to Anne's shoulder. Her skin felt like ice. “Anne?" The older woman didn't respond. Nikki felt for a pulse, which was rapid, unsteady. It was the rhythm she could feel in the necklace. She gently lifted the older woman's eyelids—her pupils were huge. She'd been drugged, undoubtedly to stop her running.
"Miss James?"
The sharp voice bit through the darkness, and she jumped. “In here." The FBI agent with the blue eyes appeared in the doorway. The beam of his flashlight hit her square in the eyes, and she threw up her hand to cut the glare.
"Sorry,” he said, moving the light to one side. “You found her?" She nodded. “She's been drugged and assaulted. You'd better get the paramedics down here quickly." He stopped by her side, his expression grim as he stripped off his coat and placed it carefully over Anne. It wouldn't have offered much in the way of warmth, but at least it offered a little more dignity.
"They've already been called. We've got one man dead out there and another with half his neck ripped apart.” He hesitated. “What were those things?"
"What did they look like?” she hedged, wary of telling him the truth.
"Well, they certainly fit the image of every damn vampire I've seen on the silver screen. But vampires just can't exist."