Dark Queen (Jane Yellowrock #12)

? ? ?

    At midnight I was standing under an icy shower, trying to let the cold water beat the bruises out of my muscles. Fighting while in Zen meditation was painful. Not letting time slip wasn’t as hard as I expected, but it did require total concentration, concentration that left instinctive fighting moves all to muscle memory and Beast. In some ways that was better than my usual sparring methods; in other ways it was not up to my usual speed and skill level. I had jammed knuckles and purple bruises along my rib cage. My knee was wobbly. I needed to shift to Beast and heal, but there wasn’t time. Time. Ha-ha. If I got the chance to shift I’d take it, but it didn’t look likely. Meantime it was Gatorade, hot tea, ice packs, and the cold water of a bruise-fighting shower.

I heard banging on my door, and knew the boys wouldn’t bother me unless it was an emergency. I threw on a robe and opened it to see the Kid standing there. He said, “We got a problem. The Stephens family at the B&B? The one Des Citrons drank down? They were the blood-servants of Laurie Caruso.”

I frowned at him, trying to put that together with logic and sense.

“The clan didn’t end up there by accident or just because they owned some lemon trees,” he said. “I’m betting they were looking for the bottle of blood the Carusos left behind.”

“The bottle Leo’s had for long enough to get it reverse engineered,” I breathed. “How many other blood-servants did the Carusos leave?”

“One family in Marigny, the Chiswells, husband and wife and two kids. House is near the corner of Frenchmen Street and Dauphine. I’ve sent the GPS to our cells.”

I pushed the door closed and dressed fast in my red leathers, with enough weapons to fight off a platoon of vamps. I opened my door to see Eli racing down the stairs. Followed him into the street and into the SUV. He handed me a comms set and I put it on, fastening my silver-plated titanium gorget around my neck. “Intel on the place? Backup?”

“Nothing.” He roared the vehicle the wrong way down the street. “The Tequila boys are off doing Leo’s initial security work. No answer on Ayatas’s or Rick’s cell. We could twiddle our thumbs and wait.”

“No.”

“Then we’re on our own.”

I sent a text and got an immediate reply. “No, we aren’t. We have Jodi from NOPD, and SWAT.”

“Hooahh.”

It had been a while since Eli had used the old Army term, meaning, “Good,” and “Let’s do this,” and a dozen other things. I figured it was a good omen.



* * *



? ? ?

Eli slowed and I took video of the place. The Chiswells’ home was a brick Creole town house with arched windows at ground level, rectangular windows on the second floor, and arched windows on the third. Nonfunctional shutters were painted a deep emerald green and the front door was painted a paler shade of the same color. Iron balconies were on both upper floors and an iron gate enclosed the front porch. The roof was steeply pitched, with side gables and multiple dormers. Lots of plants were out front and on every balcony. A wall surrounded a tropical garden in back, though I didn’t smell lemons. I did smell blood, not much, but fresh.

My cell rang. I accepted the call. “Jodi.”

“You sure about this?”

“I smell blood. We don’t have time to negotiate. We need to do this now.”

“What do you mean you smell—Oh. Right,” she grumbled. “ETA is four. Smell’s not enough to be considered exigent circumstances or threat to public safety. Pull down Dauphine, park, and stay put. We’re waiting on a paper.” She meant a warrant to enter the house. And that might take a long time.

“Right.” I ended the call.

Eli pulled over into a parking spot and we got out. “Four minutes is enough time for a recon. Your nose and my infrared and low-light and we’ll know where everyone is,” he said.

I pulled on Beast’s night vision and the world turned silver-gray tinted with greens and charcoal. “Windows are closed, drapes closed. Let’s do a walk-by. Let me see if I can pinpoint the blood.” Immediately I wrapped one arm around Eli’s waist, as if we were out for a stroll.

Eli tapped his mic as we came abreast of the front door. “Cameras on front porch.”

“I’m in the system,” Alex said. “They came in the front. Fast and violent. Four vamps and three humans. System went offline, but again they didn’t wipe the history.”

“The blood I smell is at the front of the house,” I said as we rounded the corner and slipped down the narrow ease-way between the Chiswells’ and the house next door. From above us, I heard a scream, full of terror. A child’s voice. I remembered the bodies at the bed-and-breakfast. I stopped. Eli stopped, his eyes scanning everywhere. The scream came again, terrified. In pain. “Third floor,” I said, following the sound up. “Back of the house.”

“Over the fence in back.”

“Copy that,” I said, and tapped my mic. “Call Jodi. Tell her we have vamps in the house and children in distress on the third floor. We’re considering that exigent circumstances. Going over the wall and in at the back. Tell her to hit the house at the front, ASAP.”

“Okay.” The mic went silent. Then he said, “Jodi is pissed, but they’re parked three houses down on Frenchmen. They’ll enter in two.”

Eli checked his watch. “Your Beast has senses I don’t. You take point.” Pulling on Beast’s strength, I raced to the fence and leaped. I caught myself with Beast’s grace and peeked over the top before I slipped over, into the leaves of an elephant ear plant. I managed to break several of the huge leaves. Eli landed beside me and broke some more.

There were four cars in the small lot. Eli said, “Dried mud and grass on the bumper. Centipede, just like the Stephens place.” He moved toward the back door and a security light came on. We ducked back into the foliage just as the door opened. A vamp stuck his head out, spotted a cat on a windshield, cursed, and shut the door. We didn’t hear a lock turn. But I did smell a lot of blood.

Kits, Beast growled.

“We’re going in now,” I said into the mic. To Eli I added, “Stay behind me. I heal better than you do.”

Eli said nothing, but he raced up the stairs and turned the knob. The door opened. I rushed in and stopped, my back to the wall. Into his mic Eli muttered, “Back door was unlocked. A child is screaming. Repeat. We have breached the back. Wall directly ahead, stairs to the right.”

The entry was a well-lighted mudroom. The vamp who had stuck his head outside was close. I could smell him. We needed him to be quiet. We needed him out of action. We also needed him alive to question. I pointed to my eyes and then at the doorway to the left, telling Eli I was taking a look. I drew a fourteen-inch vamp-killer and advanced on the opening.

Three feet from me, the vamp walked around the corner. His eyes met mine. Bled black; his fangs snapped down. He vamped out. He started to shout. I raised the vamp-killer and shoved straight forward, my feet automatically moving into La Destreza. The point of the blade entered his throat and cut through. Blood shot over me. The vamp dropped. The blade, hanging in the spinal processes in back, dragged my hand down.

I waggled the blade and pulled it loose, stuck an ash stake into his belly. But I didn’t take his head. If he survived, he might give us intel.

Eli pointed up the narrow stairs, probably servants’ stairs way back when. He raced up. Taking point. Stupid man. I followed. We were on the second-floor landing, staring up the stairs to the third floor, when I heard a squeak on the front porch.

I ran faster, passing Eli. At the top of the stairs I followed the scent of blood and pointed to a room with the door open. Light spilled into the hallway. We raced inside. On the floor just inside the room was an adult male, his throat cut, the blood already stopped. Three people sat on the bed staring at him. Silent. Horrified. The back window was open. I raced to it and looked out.