Chasing the Shadows (Nikki & Michael 3)

In single file, they began moving through the darkness. Some of the tunnels were so damn small they had to almost bend over double. Others seemed to soar high above them. And all the while the pulsing got stronger, until the agitated beat of Anne's heart was a rhythm that matched her own.

Michael?

Here. His mind voice was a whisper that breathed warmth past her ear. Darkness brushed across her fingers, searing heat deep.

And the vamps?

Up ahead.

Energy surged to her fingertips. She flexed her hands, trying to relax. They're not going to attack?

No. I think they plan to await discovery then attack.

Why? It didn't make any sense to give up the advantage like that, though they were talking vampires. She guessed it didn't really matter if they did give up the benefit of surprise. Fledglings or not, they'd still beat the crap out of most of the officers here.

I suspect Farmer intends to let the police finally know what they are up against. His mind voice was grim.

Thank God there are no reporters down here with us. It'd cause a panic if people knew vamps were real and living in the sewers.

His smile spun around her, a touch of sunshine through the darkness . This is a city renowned for both its tolerance and its diversity. Somehow, I don't think people would be all that surprised. The necklace burned into her hand. She held it by the top of the plastic instead, but it made very little difference to the images assaulting her mind. Anne was alive but in a bad way. She might not have had a heart attack like Dale Wainwright had, but the vamps had assaulted her and fed off her, and she was struggling to survive.

We're approaching the large chamber where the Loop waits, Michael said. You'd better try to warn the police.

She cleared her throat. “We're nearing where Anne is, but there's something waiting just ahead.” As she spoke, fog seemed to stir the darkness. It wasn't the vampires, wasn't anything threatening. Yet it came with an almost overwhelming feeling of fear.

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.