Cops ran everywhere. Screams. Shouting.
“JoJo!” I shouted into my comms. “Active shooter on the roof of—I can’t see the business name. Multistoried building on South Central. There’s a white plaque in the brick, like an original name. It might start with a C, and the word Building after it?”
“Hang on. I got your position.” I heard soft tapping. “You safe? You look like you’re out in the open.”
I realized JoJo was following us in real time on the interactive map. “I’m behind a planter,” I said, lifting my head. “But there’s a cop in the street. She’s four feet from me. She’s hit. Bleeding. I’m gonna—”
“Stay put,” JoJo warned.
“But—”
“Stay put. That’s an order.”
On the other side of the street, two paramedics and a cop rushed into an emergency medical van, bodies low, crouched. Even over the sound of the EMS engines, which were still running, I could hear the girl in the street panting. Blood trickled between the tiny rocks in the pavement. I could feel it. Almost taste it. Bloodlust rose in me, hesitant, uncertain, but . . . interested. There was no land to feed here. Thank God, no land to feed. “Jo,” I said, “she’s—”
The ambient noise on the comms system altered. “Attention, all law enforcement personnel,” JoJo said. “The shooter has been spotted on the top of the Carhart Building.”
The EMS unit made a sharp turn at her words. More shots rang out, pinging into the vehicle. Ramming right through the body of the oversized van and burying themselves in the street. The engine gunned and the van rolled into the street, in front of the downed officer, the engine block between the wounded woman and the shooter’s position. The three responders fell out the rear door to the asphalt, keeping low. They pulled emergency supplies from an oversized red kit. Went to work on her.
“Thanks, Jo,” I said. I was panting hard.
“Not me. EMS did that all on their own. You got eyes on the shooter?”
Scraping along the brick pavers, I reversed my body position so I was facing the other way. The angle of the van’s emergency lights now gave me more shadow protection, but if the shooter had low-light or infrared-vision goggles I was toast. I pulled myself along the bricks on my elbows, in between two other concrete planters, and angled myself so I could see the top of the Carhart Building clearly, as fully as I could at night. “Nothing,” I said, “except SWAT is converging there. If the shooter is still inside he’s caught.
“Is Occam okay?” I asked. “He’s—”
“On the roof with a vampire,” JoJo said. “I know. RVAC has eyes in the air.”
“That was fast.”
“City just had a multiunit emergency response exercise. They got this one nailed.”
One of the paramedics in the street got back in the EMS unit and it moved again, this time turning at a sharper angle to the Carhart Building. Yummy landed on all fours beside me, like a praying mantis. I squelched a squeal and Yummy laughed. She was enjoying this.
Without even thinking, I reached out, grabbed her shirt, and yanked her to me. Her face was two inches from mine. All vamped out. Fangs down, eyes bloodred with huge black pupils. “That cop got injured,” I said, “protecting this city and your’n boss. How ’bout you’un get in there and give her some blood instead of playing games?”
“Take your hand off me, little female.”
“No.”
Yummy’s eyes went even wider. Surprised. She tilted her head in one of those creepy inhuman moves they do and looked at the EMS unit. The driver was scrunched down in his seat, making a small target; the other two responders were loading the wounded officer into the back of the glorified ambulance. “JoJo,” I said, “tell EMS that a vampire is about to join”—I stretched my own head to see the number stenciled on the van—“Unit Two-Fourteen, to offer her services as blood donor.”
“Copy that,” JoJo said.
“I’ll pick you up at UTMC,” I said to the vampire.
“I’ll be thirsty,” Yummy snarled.
“I think the appropriate response is ‘Cry me a river.’” I let go of Yummy’s shirt. “Move.”
The vampire shot away from me with a pop of sound and landed at the back door of the EMS unit. And then she was inside and the vehicle was backing down the street. I maybe shoulda felt bad about talking to Yummy that way, but short of staking a vamp, talking mean was about all that might get them to pay attention.
“You scare me sometimes,” JoJo said.
“Oh? We saved a vamp’s young’un not so long ago. Call the Clayton vampire and get some more blood-suckers to the hospital,” I said. “Tell them they owe us.”
Occam joined the conversation from somewhere, his voice calm and amused in my earbuds, and said, “Do it. But tell them they owe the city. Not us. Tell them it’ll be good PR.”
“Mmmm,” JoJo said, her tone saying she didn’t like calling the vamps for favors of any kind.
“Copy that,” Rick said. “And ask nice.”
I jumped. I’d forgotten he was around tonight.
“Yes, sir,” JoJo said smartly, indicating she still didn’t agree but she could blame her supervisor if problems resulted from vampires feeding cops. Rick chuckled, the sound like dry leaves scattering before a slow wind.
Occam appeared between the planters, near my feet. He hadn’t jumped from above, so he must have come down from the roof elsewhere and cat-crawled to me. “Did I hear you just threaten a blood-sucker, Nell, sugar?”
“Special Agent Ingram,” I said, tapping my earpiece with a fingernail, reminding him we were being recorded and every word would be transcribed.
“Right.” Occam gave me a cat grin, all self-satisfaction. “Wish I’d seen that, Nell, sugar.”
“We got two RVACs in the air now,” JoJo said. “And local LEOs just obtained footage from traffic cams showing an armed figure fleeing the scene, heading south on South Gay Street. Obtaining the images now. Stay in position. SWAT is clearing the Carhart Building.”
Occam said, “The Mithran and I cleared the roof and building at our nine.”
“I’ll let the local LEOs know.”