Chapter Thirty--five
A silvery blur flitted over the other cars in the parking lot before diving into our black van. We were only a couple miles away from the Lasting Peace cemetery and funeral home in Garland, Texas. It had taken Marie Laveau twelve years of sending out ghosts to find Gregor, but Fabian received information of Apollyon’s whereabouts in six days.
In fairness, the world was a big damn place, and Mencheres had had Gregor in an old, reinforced mine tunnel in Madagascar—hell and gone from Marie’s home base of New Orleans. I, however, had narrowed Apollyon’s location down to only one country and a type of business. Still, they had done an amazing job. No one would disparage ghosts while I was around, that was for sure.
Fabian’s features solidified from the random hazy swirls, but his mouth was turned down in a frown.
“I think you should get more people.”
“How many are there?” Bones asked him.
“At least four score,” Fabian replied. “They’re having a rally in about an hour.”
“Is Apollyon still there?” I pressed.
Fabian nodded. “You could capture him afterward, once the others leave.”
Bones exchanged a glance with me. Or Apollyon could leave with the other ghouls. Then we’d need to have the ghosts hunt him for us all over again.
“The bulk of the ghouls—do they look like visitors for the rally, or guards?” Bones asked, tapping his chin.
Fabian looked confused. “How would I tell?”
“You can tell by how many of them are armed,” Vlad said, with pointed emphasis on the last word.
“Ah.” Fabian’s brow smoothed. “A few of them had large weapons with bullets that crisscrossed around their torsos.”
I made a mental note to familiarize Fabian with modern artillery so he’d be able to give better descriptions.
“Machine guns?” I asked, miming holding one and making a series of rapid staccato noises.
Bones’s mouth twitched, but he dipped his head so I wouldn’t see his clear amusement over my “GI Jane does Pictionary” imitation.
“Yes, those,” Fabian said. “Some of the other people could have knives on them, but those were the only weapons I could see.”
Vlad let out a snort. “I didn’t come this far to run now.”
I felt the same way. Still, I had to assume the machine guns were armed with silver bullets and at least some of the ghouls would have silver knives. Most of them might not be armed, but eight to one was still eight to one.
“Mencheres, use your power to keep any humans from getting hurt. One side of the cemetery borders a business district, and I can’t have Tate send troops to block it off because that would tip Apollyon to our presence. So keeping people out of the way is your top priority.”
“As opposed to restraining Apollyon?” he asked, polite disagreement in his tone.
I met his charcoal gaze. “If you rip his head off, that looks very impressive for you, but it won’t do me much good. You guys keep telling me if I don’t smack people down hard enough when they come after me, then more will follow. Well, I’m the one Apollyon used as a scapegoat all this time, so I’m the one who has to take him down.”
Silence met this pronouncement. I braced for arguments, especially from Bones, so I was surprised when he coolly nodded his head.
“Don’t use your power to restrain the other ghouls, either,” Bones stated. “We’ll take them in a match of strength on strength.”
I looked around at the occupants of the van. In addition to Mencheres, Kira, Vlad, Spade, Denise, Ed, and Scratch, we’d picked up a few new additions in recent days. Bones’s sire, Ian, grinned at the prospect. Gorgon, Mencheres’s old friend, just shrugged, and the blond Law Guardian, Veritas, who was as old as Mencheres even though she looked like Barbie doll’s younger sister, only appeared bored by the topic. No one voiced a word of objection.
Eleven vampires and a shapeshifter against whatever Apollyon had at that complex. That might not sound like good odds, but I knew how deadly this bunch was. Also, if we gathered too many vampires together, we ran the risk of Apollyon getting tipped off.
“All right.” I gave everyone a steady, unblinking glance. “Apollyon wants a war? He’s going to get one, but not between our two species. It’ll be between his best and our best.”
Bones met my gaze, dark brown eyes glinting with green.
“We go in an hour,” he stated, the promise of violence caressing each word. “Gives the rest of them time to arrive.”
And all of them being there meant less chance of any ghouls stumbling across the fight and then summoning backup for Apollyon. I smiled at Bones, feeling the mixture of anticipation and purpose that always filled me before a fight.
“I can’t wait to crash the party.”
His answering smile was edged with the same lethal expectancy.
“Neither can I, Kitten.”
The sharp wind made me squint as I stared down at the cemetery Bones flew us over. The majority was only lit up by residual illumination around the perimeter gates, with two exceptions. One was the funeral home. Exterior lights shone on the LASTING PEACE sign out front, emphasizing the somber yet elegant design of the two-story building. The other area that had lights was on the edge of the southern burial plats, bordering against the unplowed acres set aside for future graves. I looked down at the small, illuminated platform, one ghoul standing in between the two portable floodlights, and couldn’t bite back my scoff.
Apollyon didn’t have those lights set up on either side of him so his followers could get a good view of him gesturing emphatically during his rhetoric about how Cain was really a ghoul and vampires originally derived from flesh-eaters instead of the other way around. Ghouls could see in the dark. How arrogant did Apollyon have to be, to insist on being lit up like a rock star during what was supposed to be a secret undead rally? And was that an Armani suit he had on? In my boringly functional, all-black leotard with multiple weapon holsters, I was clearly underdressed for this shindig.
Bones abruptly tilted us downward and all thoughts of clothing left my mind. Fabian was right; a crowd of around sixty gathered in a loose diamond-shaped formation, listening to Apollyon with rapt attention, while about two dozen guards armed with machine guns roamed around the assembly. We’d also seen about four or five guards near the main entrance of the cemetery, but I wasn’t worried about them. Mencheres would handle them, and Denise and Kira would make sure no latecomers showed up.
I gripped my two katana swords as Bones bulleted us toward the thickest cluster of armed guards. Goal number one was to take out the guns before the guns took us out. I had a split second to enjoy the look of shock on the guards’ faces as either Bones’s power level preceded us, or they saw a big dark form hurtling right for them. And then we plowed into them with a tremendous crash.
The impact was like smashing into a group of trees, except these trees shouted and fought back. I hacked away with my two swords before even coming to a stop, knowing Bones had already rolled to the side to stay well clear of my blades. Limbs and heads separated underneath my ferocious slices as I used the shorter swords like extensions of my arms, swinging away at anyone in front of me no matter if they were armed or not. If they were here, then they were on Apollyon’s side, which meant they’d kill me if they could.
More gunfire and shouts let me know that the rest of our welcoming party had landed. As much as I wanted to look around and check on Bones, I didn’t, keeping my attention on hacking my way to the ghouls who were now spraying the crowd in an effort to take out the intruders. Flashes of white-hot pain arced into my side, making me roll in defense even as I continued to swing my blades at anyone unlucky enough to be near me. Dammit. I’d been hit.
All the tumbling made my hair come loose from its bun. Dark strands interrupted my vision as I rolled to avoid another barrage of bullets, seeing the grass explode in mini pops where I’d just been. Acting on instinct, I flung my sword, hearing a scream before I jumped up, my side still burning, to see a ghoul fall backward clawing at his face, my sword hilt where his nose used to be.
I ignored the pain and vaulted forward, tackling him before he could raise the gun again. A hard swipe across his neck and he wasn’t moving anymore. Another swipe took out the trigger on the gun. No need leaving it functional so a bystander could pick it up and start shooting away.
Pain exploded in my neck in the next instant, blood filling my mouth. I grabbed the dead ghoul, using his body as a shield, coughing even though I didn’t breathe. That searing matched the pain in my side, but it faded quicker, and the red on my clothes let me know what happened. I’d been shot in the throat.
Somehow, that pissed me off more than the bullets still burning their way deeper into my side. I kept ahold of the corpse, balancing his body in front of me as I charged at the ghoul who continued to fire at me. Those bullets struck his fallen comrade instead, and I had time to let out a savage snarl before I threw the body on him, knocking him over. I followed immediately with my sword, slicing through the arm he raised in defense and then his neck, putting all my pain and anger behind the blow. His head rolled a foot away from his body.
I didn’t stop to celebrate but swung around. Just in time, too. A duo of ghouls bored down on me, one shooting, one holding out a knife. I had time to fling myself upward, making the bullets intended for me hit empty air instead, before I landed behind them. My sword ripped through both their necks with the momentum from my jump, blood splattering me as they fell, headless, to the ground.
“Kitten!”
My head jerked up just in time to see a flash of silver above me. I flung myself down, the sword that had been about to cleave through my neck catching me in the side of the head instead. At once, my vision went red and agony exploded in my skull. Every inner impulse screamed at me to hunch defensively and clutch my wound, but the part of me that remembered all the brutal training Bones put me through knew to strike out instead. I swung my blade where I’d last glimpsed the ghoul’s legs, putting all my strength into the blow. I was rewarded by a scream and a thump, something heavy landing on me. The blood in my vision made it hard to make out specifics, but I kept swinging, knowing from each new scream that I was hitting my mark even if I couldn’t see what that mark was. Sizzling pain erupting along my back had me arching in reflex and redoubling my efforts. The ghoul wasn’t done fighting yet.
After several rapid blinks, my gaze cleared enough to see him. His arm was missing. So were his legs at the calves, but he had a silver knife that he kept stabbing into my back, seeking my heart. Instead of rolling away from him, I lunged forward, head-butting him with all my fury. He jerked back in a dazed way, but the sudden stars in my vision and urge to throw up let me know that my head injury wasn’t done healing yet. With pain crashing through my skull and my side throbbing like I had heat-seeking missiles doing the tango in my guts, I brought my sword down toward his neck.
He kicked me with his stumps at the same time, knocking my aim off. Instead of cleaving through his neck, my sword buried deep in his shoulder. I tugged but it wouldn’t come free. The ghoul let out something like a snarl and a laugh.
“Missed me,” he chortled viciously, raising his gun.
My other arm whipped forward and the ghoul’s laugh died in his throat. He fired, but the bullets went wild, probably because he now had two silver knives in his eye sockets. He should have never taken the time to taunt me before he fired. I had plenty of other weapons aside from my sword.
He reached for the knives—another mistake. I wrenched the gun from his hands and used it to shoot my way right through his neck, letting out a scream of deadly triumph. Then I yanked my sword free, whirling around to defend against the next attack.
None came. Although I still heard spates of gunfire, they were far less frequent than before. The cemetery was littered with bodies, and those still standing looked like they were trying to run more than attempting to fight. For a split second, I was surprised. Yeah, I knew our group was tough, but . . .
A flash of yellow and black caught my eye, moving with the speed of some sort of cartoon Tasmanian devil. It plowed into two ghouls who had been firing at Ian. In the next blink, there was nothing more than a crimson pile of body parts on the ground, a lithe blonde with two swords standing over them.
Veritas? I didn’t have a chance to goggle at her before she was off in another crazily fast blur, heading for an eruption of gunfire over the hill. Within moments, that gunfire stopped.
“Am I the only one who has wood over that little vixen?” Ian asked cheerfully even as he cleaved his sword right through the center of a ghoul. That shook me out of my momentary stupor and I started chasing down the next spate of gunfire I heard. My side still felt like it had been set on fire, but I pushed it back. I didn’t have time to dig the bullets out, and nothing else would make the burning stop.
I continued to run toward the sounds of gunfire, clearing the crest of a small hill. At the bottom was a large memorial fountain, but that’s not what made my body seize with a fresh spurt of adrenaline. It was the sight of the short, expensively clad ghoul backed up against the fountain, three guards surrounding him in protective formation as they fired at the vampires who cut off their escape.
“Apollyon!” I yelled, running down the hill in a straight line toward him. “You remember me, don’t you?”
Even with the distance, I saw his eyes widen. “Reaper,” he mouthed. Then louder, in a scream at the ghouls protecting him, “That’s her, that’s the Reaper!”
The gunfire changed direction, but I’d expected that. I dove to my right, all but one bullet missing me. It slammed into my side with the impact of a torpedo, but I kept rolling, knowing the gunfire wouldn’t cease. Unlike the movies, in real life, the bad guys didn’t quit shooting to check and see if you were dead. Those bullets chased me, but I scrambled up and kept moving, headstones exploding around me as those were struck instead of me.
A scream preceded one of the guns going quiet. Then another one. Even as I kept running, I smiled. I knew Vlad, Spade, and Gorgon had only needed a few moments of distraction to pounce. Apollyon and his guards should have known that, too, and never focused all three of their guns on me.
I whirled around, heading back toward the bottom of the hill. Vlad had one of the gunmen in a merciless grip, flames erupting all over the ghoul. Spade wrestled with another ghoul, but I wasn’t worried about him, because at some point, he’d managed to knock the gun away. That left Ed and Gorgon fighting with two more ghouls who’d joined the battle, but my attention wasn’t focused on them. It was on the stocky ghoul running flat-out for the gate bordering the cemetery. On the other side of that gate was a small business district, mostly deserted this time of night, but with lots of buildings and apartments that Apollyon could hide in.
“Oh no you don’t,” I growled, running faster. That sickening pain increased, the burning in my side feeling like acid eating all through me, but I couldn’t concentrate on that now. I had to focus on the air around me, picturing it as something with form that I could mold and bend to my will. Bones’s words echoed in my mind. You have the ability. You just need to sharpen it.
My feet lifted off the ground, but I didn’t fall. I flew, leaning into the air, letting it take me faster than I could run before. Wind rushed through my hair, streaming along my body, lifting me as though it understood my need and wanted to help. The distance between me and Apollyon grew shorter, his steps seeming so slow and clumsy in comparison to the way I arced above the ground. I streamlined my body, my hands out in front of me, aiming for the back of his Armani jacket like it was a bull’s-eye and I was an arrow. Thirty feet. Twenty. Ten . . .
When I barreled into him, my velocity plowing him to the ground hard enough to tear up the dirt, I was smiling even though a fresh deluge of pain blasted through my side. And when I came up, twisting so Apollyon was in front of me, relief made me almost immune to the strikes he got in before I had his neck locked in an iron chokehold.
“You move and I’ll rip your head right the fuck off,” I told him, meaning every deadly word.
Apollyon was either smarter than I gave him credit for, or he really did fear me, because he stopped struggling at once.
“What are you going to do with me?” he hissed, the words garbled from the grip I had around his throat.
I let out a pained laugh.
“I’m so glad you asked.”