Raven Cursed

The protestors stopped as if petrified, their eyes on the leg and foot. It was still wearing a shoe. The leader’s mouth worked but no sound came out. Evangelina pointed at the doors and shouted, “The vampires did it! They killed the boy! Get them!”

 

 

The demon overhead called again, a softer rumbling note with three soft tocks afterward, a satisfied chirp. The leader of the humans swiveled back to the hotel. His face contorted, full of fury. He charged, flinging blood before him with stained fingers. His supporters followed. Just before they reached the entrance, Derek slammed the metal rod into place, securing the door with a metal bar and deadbolt. He turned a key in the deadbolt lock and the metal tongue schnicked into place just as the protestors fell against the door with a hollow thud. “How long?” I demanded.

 

Derek said, “Twenty-eight seconds until they’re in place.”

 

A window shattered. A rock bounced across the lobby, sparkling glass shards catching the pink glow from outside. “As soon as the protestors are down, have the men draw back. That black thing is a demon.”

 

“What thing?”

 

“He cannot see it, me sha.” I rotated my upper body at the familiar French tones. “He is fully human,” Leo said. Outside, the demon cast no shadow. He wasn’t fully here. Yet.

 

The master of the southeastern vamps, and arguably one of the most powerful vamps in the U.S., shrugged negligently. He was wearing a tuxedo with a black silk shirt, white cummerbund, and bowtie. He looked beautiful. And deadly. His black eyes sparkled as if he knew what I had thought, and he reached out to smooth my hair back from my face, along my shoulder and spine, in a sleek caress. Beside him stood Grégoire, a slight figure in midnight blue tux with a blue silk shirt the color of his eyes. The vamps looked gorgeous together.

 

I put my weapon on safety, holstered it, and pulled them back from the door. “Go back to your rooms.” They looked at each other, turned to the windows, and smiled, fangs clicking down. It wasn’t charming. More like two feral creatures staring at prey. I got a bad feeling.

 

“It has been many years since we have been to battle,” Grégoire said. “Our servants are restrained.”

 

I scanned behind me. Ignored the rock that exploded into the room only feet away. Bruiser and the twins were sitting on the couches in front of the fireplace. Staring at nothing. I raced over and saw my weapons on the floor at the twins’ feet. Wrassler was asleep on the rug. “Let them go,” I snarled, weaponing up, strapping on blades, checking the M4. “I need them.” The shotgun was loaded for vamp with silver fléchette rounds. I was hoping silver worked on demons, and I was the only one with silver. Leo’s decision. A dumb one. I could lay blame later, if I lived. I took Leo’s arm. “Please. Let the servants go.”

 

“No. The little witch is ours,” Grégoire said. He vamped out fully, his pupils growing wide as quarters in blood red sclera. “You have done well, bringing her to me.”

 

He had ordered me to bring him Evangelina so he could kill her. Crap.

 

“And we must liberate Shaddock.” Leo freed his arm from my fingers with a small shake that jarred my bones, peering out the window into the growing dark and increasing reddish glare of Evangelina’s magics. Lincoln’s head was still silhouetted in the pink energies. “Shaddock’s master, Dufresnee, is sworn to me, and I to him. I have drunk from him. Shaddock is mine.”

 

“Shaddock is a barbarian, but he is our barbarian,” Grégoire agreed, sounding eager.

 

“Shall we?” Leo asked him.

 

Grégoire drew a sword from a sheath I hadn’t noted, hanging at his side. “Forgive me if I precede you, my master.” With a firm pop of air, like a drumhead hit hard, he disappeared.

 

“He is always first on a battlefield,” Leo said, aggrieved. He vamped out faster than I could process the change and disappeared with a puff of air that moved my hair with its passage. Both men reappeared outside. It looked magical, but the movement of air and falling glass indicated that they had gone out through the broken windows. They faced off against Evangelina.

 

I swore succinctly and gathered myself to follow. Derek caught my arm. “You’re not wearing a vest, Legs,” he said.

 

“They don’t have guns,” I replied. “Time?”

 

“They’re in place. On my order, I’ve instructed the men to target the humans and the witch on first volley. Where is this demon?”

 

“Your two o’clock. About ten feet off the ground. I have silver ammo,” I said. “It might work on the demon.”