Circle of the Moon (Soulwood #4)

FireWind said, “Clementine, record.”

On the screen overhead, we watched as vampires burst from Ming’s house, pursued by six humans. The humans were carrying stakes and, in what looked like a well-choreographed act, they tackled their own vamps and staked them. The vamps had been spell-called. Stopped by their own humans. Then Cai and Yummy practically flew from the house and down the driveway, out of sight. They were both carrying swords. Ming of Glass and Lincoln Shaddock raced behind them, also armed with swords, and all four vanished, that faster-than-the-eye-can-follow speed of the vampire. There was no audio, just the video, the silence oddly unnerving.

On my cell, Yummy said, “Magic called our Mithrans. The local coven had messengered over some protective amulets as an indication of goodwill, but there weren’t enough of them.” Her voice lowered as if to keep others from hearing. “We have important guests.” Her volume returned to normal, “So when the magic began, some of us were wearing amulets but not all of us. Our humans took down the ones who tried to go over. And those of us with amulets raced into the darkness where Mithrans were attacking.”

On the screen, fighting figures danced back into the camera range, pushed back by the attackers, black in the darkness except for the flash of steel. Long, moving shadows striped the pale driveway. I counted ten figures, which made it four against six.

Humans with handguns, ten of them, rushed out of the trees, around the fighters, and attacked the humans and the vampires on the ground near the front door. There was no sound. But there was a hail of weapon fire. Ming’s humans tried to get away. Fell. Blood ran across the pale drive. In the background, two of the attacking vampires were down. Then Yummy fell. Cai, Ming’s human primo, was a whirling dervish, taking out three Mithrans. The last one raced away as Cai dropped to the ground. Badly injured.

The attacking humans grabbed up two of Ming’s staked vampires and two injured humans and sped into the dark, dragging the victims. No one followed. Humans and vampires flooded out of the house to feed and heal and apply pressure to wounds and, in one case, do chest compressions.

“Cai is grievously wounded and close to death. He might be brought over before dawn,” Yummy said. Her voice changed as if she was no longer speaking into a cell, the words sounding vicious and accusatory. “I hope his sacrifice was worth it to you.”

I had a feeling that Yummy was talking to someone else. Maybe Ming, since she was blood-drunk enough to say too much. Overhead, we watched the fight from a different angle.

Her voice returned to the phone. “Two other humans are dead. Others are in healing. Two Mithrans were taken by the invaders. Two humans as well.” Her words slurred slightly.

FireWind caught my eye and held up his tablet. On it was written the words, Ask her what she wants.

I nodded, realizing that Yummy had to want something. “Why did you call?” I asked.

Yummy laughed and then hissed as if her laughter hurt. “Cai’s plan. He had it aaaall ready.”

She fell silent, blood-drunk. I feared Yummy had fallen asleep. Unit Eighteen was tired enough to doze off too. Ayatas FireWind looked fresh as a daisy, but T. Laine looked scared, her face drawn with tension. Occam was stretched out in his chair, his long legs in front and crossed at the ankles, his hands laced across his stomach, his head resting back. He was watching me with cat-like intensity—though not in a predatory way. More of a sleepy cat way. I had seen that exact expression on my mousers’ faces. Tandy was sitting with his chin in hand, his eyes heavy lidded. JoJo was staring at the screens overhead, loaded with security cameras, some inside Ming’s clan home, which was a gross violation of official PsyLED protocols. FireWind’s comment about Alex Younger, together with the video on the screens, came clear. Alex was Jane Yellowrock’s IT, security, and electronic network partner, and had been Leo Pellissier’s security guy. I realized that Alex must have hacked into—or created a backdoor into—the security systems of his own loyal vampires. And JoJo knew all about it. JoJo knew Alex’s work. Had she burrowed in? Hacked in? Or had she gotten access during the time Occam and I were inside Ming’s house, after the previous attack? I had seen no footage from that attack, so I guessed so.

The silence had stretched too long. “Yummy?” I asked. “What do you want?”

“Sex, blood, and rock and roll.”

I smiled because even a church girl knew that phrase. “No. I mean what do you want with me? Which means no sex, no blood, and no Beatles music.”

“Party pooper. Yeah, yeah, yeah, I’m getting to it. Cai’s plan was his sacrifice. He had captured one of their humans from the previous attack and Ming rolled him. We knew what they wanted, which was some of us, though our talkative little rabbit didn’t say why. We let them attack, and take our people. All of whom were wearing trackers. And still are. We know where they are, within twenty yards or so. We’re going after our people and we’re going to kill the invading Mithrans. And we wanted you to know there might be human casualties.”

FireWind’s eyes snapped to me. The others sat up straight, except for Occam, whose mouth lifted on one side in a half smile.

“You might need to have ambulances nearby. Traffic control. At dusk tomorrow. I’ll text the address.” The call ended.

“The vampires at the demon circle weren’t wearing trackers,” T. Laine said. “They weren’t Ming’s. So who were they?”

The HQ security alarm went off. We all jumped. Tiny red flashing lights and a roar of sound, steady though soft, filled the entire floor. Overhead, a view of the parking lot replaced the view of Ming’s clan home. Everything happened so fast it seemed to overlap.

The outer door blew open, banged back. Swung on one hinge, hanging. Smoke blew inward. On the camera screens, Jason Ethier stalked toward the building, stopped in the center of the parking lot, arms raised, a sorcerer in a hoodie and jeans.

Occam leaped across the table and down the hall.

FireWind pointed at Rick. “Into your cage!” Rick snarled but complied.

FireWind shouted, “Weapons!”

T. Laine cursed foully and rushed to her cubicle, even as FireWind said, “Kent! Every null tool at your disposal. Now! The rest of you, assault weapons. Into position here and there”—he pointed—“at the inner turn of the hallway.”

“We have exactly one assault rifle in the weapons locker,” Occam said, striding back up the hallway.

“Say what?” FireWind looked nonplussed.

Occam growled, “One. I’m certified.” He held up the weapon, the matte black gun looking efficient and deadly. “Silver-lead ammo loaded. You’re giving him access to the premises?”

“Yes,” FireWind said. “He’s here. We need to contain him. Take him alive. Find a way to get to Godfrey.”

I raced to the sleeping room and tapped once on the door, hard. “Mud. Open.” I hadn’t wanted my sister here. I had known it was a bad idea. But my family, and the danger posed by the churchmen, had left me no choice. They never did.

The latches clicked. Mud stuck her face into the crack, her eyes wide, excited. “What is it? I heard the alarms.”

“The blood witch,” I said grimly. “Lock the door. Put mattresses over the doorway and shove the desk up against it. Fast!” I rushed to my cubby and grabbed my weapon out of the upper drawer. Behind me I heard the door snap closed and the sounds of Mud obeying. I sprinted back to FireWind, readying my weapon for fire, already latching down on any stray bloodlust that might think to rise.

T. Laine called out, “He’s using the tattoo magic to track Rick.” From Rick’s cage, a scream echoed. Cat scream of rage. The cage rocked and thumped and rattled as Rick threw himself at the walls. Shifting fast. Forced into his cat.

“He called Rick at every cat circle. At the stockyard. Why didn’t he wait for Rick to arrive?” I asked. No one answered. Maybe Jason had been practicing. Maybe he was just trying to locate Rick. Maybe he had been gathering power for this moment. Or maybe he had multiple ends in mind.

Ahead of me JoJo said, “The null room is secured. Loriann can’t get out or be freed from outside without the security code.”

On the screens overhead, Jason Ethier entered the stairwell.

Margot said, “I’m with Rick. Last ditch if he gets by you all. I got a little something the FBI has been wanting to try.” That sounded ominous, but there was no time to ask questions.

“We’ll let Ethier open the door at the top of the stairs. Let him get here”—FireWind pointed—“and Kent will hit him with everything she has.”