I swear.”
“Good. Thank you.”
“But I’m not leaving you if I don’t have to.”
I held my athame in a defensive posture. With my free hand, I flipped open my cell and dialed home. The answering machine clicked on.
“Derrick,” I said after the beep. “Lost Lagoon. Hurry.”
I closed the phone, wishing it was a second gun. The thought of introducing Patrick to the world of firearms didn’t exactly sit well with me, but I reasoned that his teeth and bare hands were already deadly weapons. In all probability, the Glock was just going to slow him down.
The figure was about twenty meters away now. It looked like a man, but I couldn’t tell for sure. It didn’t seem to be carrying a weapon, but that wasn’t a good sign. Things that didn’t need weapons were a lot scarier than gun-toting criminals.
“Should I start shooting?” Patrick whispered.
“Not yet. I’ll give you a signal.”
“What signal?”
“Mostly likely, it’ll be me screaming profanity.”
He nodded. “Right. I’ll remember that.” There was a slight quaver in his voice. The bravado had vanished. “Do you think they’ll get your message?”
“Don’t know. If Idol is on, Derrick’s probably screening.”
“Guess it’s just us, then.”
Something clicked in my mind. “Wait. Patrick, you said there were some other vampires nearby.
You could sense them.”
He nodded. “Yeah. There were two of them.” His look went slightly distant. “They’re still there.
One seems stronger than the other. Maybe closer.”
“You can call them.”
He blinked. “I can?”
“Yes. I remember.” I dimly recalled reading about this ability in higher-tier vampires. I had no idea if Patrick had the kind of mastery over his abilities necessary for such a summoning. But I was willing to gamble. “Just close your eyes and send out an intense thought. Like a mental scream.”
“I’ve never done that before.”
“There’s a first time for everything.”
The figure was ten meters away now. I could see that it was a man wearing dark jeans and a black hooded sweat-shirt. There was something wrong with his face.
“Do it now,” I hissed. “Just scream on the inside.”
Patrick closed his eyes. I felt a wave of power explode from him, sending ripples of seismic disturbance through the night. My athame hummed in a kind of inanimate sympathy with the cascade.
Cold claws raked at the edges of my mind, and I tried to shake off the power-shock. He was strong.
He had raw energy in spades. Maybe it would actually be enough.
He looked at me, breathless. “Did I do it right?”
“I have no idea. But get ready.”
He aimed the Glock, using the sight just as I’d taught him. A quick study, too. Maybe he’d make a good magnate after all.
The figure in black stopped a few meters away from us. His face, which had seemed eerily distorted at first, was actually covered by a metallic mask. The metal was so well polished that it reflected my own face back at me. All I could see were his eyes, dark and still, coldly assessing. Definitely a demon. Humans didn’t have that kind of serene, predatory gaze, unless they were sociopathic.
I reached out carefully with my senses, not touching his aura, but just skirting around the edges of it. I felt incredibly dense power, like an iron wall. Not mage potential, exactly, but something else.
Something very familiar.
“I’m Tess Corday,” I said, keeping my athame level. “I work for the CORE. I’d like to avoid an incident here, if possible.”
The figure didn’t reply. Instead, he slowly pulled up the sleeve of his black jersey. His right hand was wrapped in a kind of glove, made from intricate leather thongs with gleaming brass buttons. In the palm of the glove was a latticework of golden wire, where three red stones had been set. They looked like carnelians, but there were curious black spots inside of them.
The black spots moved as I stared at them, almost dancing.
I remembered
“Good. Thank you.”
“But I’m not leaving you if I don’t have to.”
I held my athame in a defensive posture. With my free hand, I flipped open my cell and dialed home. The answering machine clicked on.
“Derrick,” I said after the beep. “Lost Lagoon. Hurry.”
I closed the phone, wishing it was a second gun. The thought of introducing Patrick to the world of firearms didn’t exactly sit well with me, but I reasoned that his teeth and bare hands were already deadly weapons. In all probability, the Glock was just going to slow him down.
The figure was about twenty meters away now. It looked like a man, but I couldn’t tell for sure. It didn’t seem to be carrying a weapon, but that wasn’t a good sign. Things that didn’t need weapons were a lot scarier than gun-toting criminals.
“Should I start shooting?” Patrick whispered.
“Not yet. I’ll give you a signal.”
“What signal?”
“Mostly likely, it’ll be me screaming profanity.”
He nodded. “Right. I’ll remember that.” There was a slight quaver in his voice. The bravado had vanished. “Do you think they’ll get your message?”
“Don’t know. If Idol is on, Derrick’s probably screening.”
“Guess it’s just us, then.”
Something clicked in my mind. “Wait. Patrick, you said there were some other vampires nearby.
You could sense them.”
He nodded. “Yeah. There were two of them.” His look went slightly distant. “They’re still there.
One seems stronger than the other. Maybe closer.”
“You can call them.”
He blinked. “I can?”
“Yes. I remember.” I dimly recalled reading about this ability in higher-tier vampires. I had no idea if Patrick had the kind of mastery over his abilities necessary for such a summoning. But I was willing to gamble. “Just close your eyes and send out an intense thought. Like a mental scream.”
“I’ve never done that before.”
“There’s a first time for everything.”
The figure was ten meters away now. I could see that it was a man wearing dark jeans and a black hooded sweat-shirt. There was something wrong with his face.
“Do it now,” I hissed. “Just scream on the inside.”
Patrick closed his eyes. I felt a wave of power explode from him, sending ripples of seismic disturbance through the night. My athame hummed in a kind of inanimate sympathy with the cascade.
Cold claws raked at the edges of my mind, and I tried to shake off the power-shock. He was strong.
He had raw energy in spades. Maybe it would actually be enough.
He looked at me, breathless. “Did I do it right?”
“I have no idea. But get ready.”
He aimed the Glock, using the sight just as I’d taught him. A quick study, too. Maybe he’d make a good magnate after all.
The figure in black stopped a few meters away from us. His face, which had seemed eerily distorted at first, was actually covered by a metallic mask. The metal was so well polished that it reflected my own face back at me. All I could see were his eyes, dark and still, coldly assessing. Definitely a demon. Humans didn’t have that kind of serene, predatory gaze, unless they were sociopathic.
I reached out carefully with my senses, not touching his aura, but just skirting around the edges of it. I felt incredibly dense power, like an iron wall. Not mage potential, exactly, but something else.
Something very familiar.
“I’m Tess Corday,” I said, keeping my athame level. “I work for the CORE. I’d like to avoid an incident here, if possible.”
The figure didn’t reply. Instead, he slowly pulled up the sleeve of his black jersey. His right hand was wrapped in a kind of glove, made from intricate leather thongs with gleaming brass buttons. In the palm of the glove was a latticework of golden wire, where three red stones had been set. They looked like carnelians, but there were curious black spots inside of them.
The black spots moved as I stared at them, almost dancing.
I remembered
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