I understood why some doctors had called for a national vamp blood bank, until it was discovered that whatever made vamps vamps didn't survive removal from their bodies, but started decomposition almost instantly. If they had a preservative to give it a shelf life, hopeless cases like Molly's would survive. I stroked her hand, the dried blood brittle on her skin. "Will she sleep long?"
"I've only seen the vampires heal someone once before. He slept until morning. And then most of the next day. You should go home. Get some rest. Be sure to leave your number with the desk and they'll call you if there's any change. And they probably have a room number for her now."
Silent, I left Molly to the care of the medical professionals and did as the nurse suggested, exchanging information with the tech behind the desk. She looked twelve, fresh and clean and cheery. There were bunnies printed on her pink scrub top.
There was nothing I could do. I went home.
I stood on the side step, taking in the smell/texture/ taste of my house. Blood. Magic. Fear. Cops, now gone. The wards on the house had been ripped, a hole I could see like a tear in a wedding veil, the damage flickering on the silver-gray mesh of magic. There, where the hole had been blasted, the tattered net of energy moved lazily, like a scorched curtain in a slow breeze. The edges of the hole glowed black and red, as if they were still hot to the touch. The smell of the attack was wood ash and smoking garbage, its texture on my skin like rotten fruit. Molly's alarm hadn't gone off when the attack happened, the magical assault burning through without a sound. Whatever made the hole, it was powerful.
I moved into the darkened house, my feet silent on the wood floor, and stared at the pool of blood, black in the night, where my friend had lain. And I burst into tears. Hot, choking, smothering tears that clawed up from my lungs and closed off my throat. I caught myself on the banister and eased down to the step. My body shuddered with sobs, wracking and harsh, my pain and guilt as cutting as Beast's claws on my mind.
I had let my only friend come here, even though I was fighting vamps. And even after I'd learned that witch children were being kidnapped I'd let her stay, believing that her wards and my Beast could keep them all safe. And everything I'd believed had been burned away in the magical attack on my house.
When the crying ended, I dragged myself to my feet, went outside, and stripped. Sat on the boulders. I had to find the kits and Bliss. I forced the change on myself. Pain slammed into me, scored deep, punishment, chastisement, castigation. For losing Angelina and Little Evan, and Bliss. The three were my last thoughts as the grayness took me.
I snarled, crouching on broken rocks. Pain dug predator talons deep into my pelt. Hungry fangs bit and tore. Jane did this. Punished us for another's acts. Stupid. And human. Stretched and felt pain pull through flesh like an enemy's claws. She had left no food. Growled and spat. Settled on water from fountain. It trickled from the tiny stone vampire woman at the top.
Hunt, she whispered in my mind. Kits.
Belly cramped with hunger, just as in the hunger times. I snarled at her, at Jane, but remembered Angie. Evan. Bliss. Liked little witch. Must protect kits. I dropped from fountain, moved slowly to burned ward. Sniffed. Hackles rose. Smelled many humans with guns.
Cops, Jane whispered. EMTs. Paramedics. All gone now.
Pelt settled. Leaped up steps, across porch, into kitchen. Stopped. Smelled witches and vampire--a rotten-fruit evil smell. Delicious reek of old blood, Molly's blood, from when she lay dying. I growled low. The shaman vampire healed her. I knew this from Jane's memory. Did not have to grieve.
I pulled the scents deep, through open mouth, over scent glands. A screeee of breath over tongue and scent sacks in mouth. Choosing the evil ones to study, learning all parts of them. They were the young-rogue makers. Knew it. Set them in scent memory, three evil vampire witches. Two unknown witches, female, and one who was both vampire and witch, male.
Three vampire witches? Jane thought. Bruiser said witches are seldom turned because their devoveo state is prolonged, sometimes permanent. Her thoughts turned inward, considering three enemies.
Ignoring hunger, I walked outside, jumped to top of rocks. Launched over fence. Landed on other side with silent paws. Beast is good hunter. Will track evil vampires and witches. And Bliss. Will kill. Will save kits. Big Cat's duty. A mother's task. To kill. To eat. To take vengeance on enemies.
I trotted into dark street. No people out. Quiet. Many shadows to hide in. I smelled Angie. Raced down street, seeing story in smells. Vampires had run here, pulling Bliss. Carrying kits. Forcing female witches with magic. They all feared. I growled. The smell of blood was close. Much blood. And the burned-paper smell of forced magic.
I stopped. Sniffed into narrow place between buildings. Three vampire witches had fed on two other witches. Had stolen their blood and much of their power. Strong magic. I padded into street, sniffing at tar road. Scent of kits ended. Car rolled away. Taking kits and evil vampires.
Thought all vamps were evil, Jane whispered deep.