Connall sensed a change in the air as vibrations of powerful energy resonated through the night.
Slayers. At least two. And a vampire. A strong one. Maybe two, he thought, puzzled by the complexity of the powers he was feeling.
Carefully, he peered over the ledge of the building, sweeping his gaze along the street, but didn’t see anything of concern. Still, not seeing danger didn't mean it wasn't there. He could sense the forces closing in on him. Getting dangerously close.
It was time to move to somewhere more secure.
Glancing around the rooftop, he noticed an entrance and went over to it. The door was locked, but with his vamp strength, the mechanism easily snapped when he twisted it. He opened the door and it creaked and squeaked as if it had been a long time since its last use. The dark stairwell was musty, and as he eased down the steps, his feet kicked up billows of dust. At the bottom, the stairs opened onto a dark floor, and had the smell of a place long abandoned. Scattered tables and chairs, some overturned, hinted that the space might have been for dining at one time. On one wall, bright pink and green neon streamed in through dirt-caked windows.
Windows onto the street below.
Perfect.
He walked to them and peered out. He had a good view of the condo building across the street, and the neon and dirt on the windows offered wonderful camouflage. When he cracked open one window, the bite of winter air swept in, but it gave him the perfect angle for what he had planned.
Moving back to the far side of the room, he broke open the lock on the opposite stairwell and sneaked a peek down those stairs. The area below was well lit and in use. A deli, he surmised by the smells, and what he could see of the floor and nearby shelves and refrigerated units.
Satisfied, he returned to the windows and hunkered down, preparing for when Siobhan finally made her way to the front door as he had ordered. His mouth salivated at the thought of the kill to come.
No. Make that kills.
His fangs burst painfully from his upper jaw, but he reined in his demon.
There would be time enough to morph later...once he was in the building across the street.
***
Michaela was in the process of a final check of the security at the front door of the condo building when she caught sight of a woman approaching the two vampire security guards.
Siobhan.
And high as a kite.
The supercharged beat of recently fulfilled bloodlust filled the air around her. The guards sensed it, perceived the danger, and moved toward her, intent on fulfilling Ryder’s strict orders.
Michaela stayed hidden and watched as the men reached Siobhan, and she played coy with them. She cajoled them loudly and teasingly, unsteady as a drunk on her feet from the blood she had ingested.
The one guard took hold of her hand, trying to restrain her.
She stumbled toward him, seemingly off balance, but in an instant she transformed into her vampire form and sank her fangs deep into the guard's neck.
The second guard ripped her away, and secured her in a chokehold, blood dripping down her fangs as she struggled against his grip. But he was too big and powerful for her to escape.
The first guard, already recovering, was reaching for handcuffs when Siobhan recoiled with a cry.
An arrow had pierced deep in her chest.
Connall.
Michaela rushed toward the guards as they hurried inside with the wounded vampiress.
“Lock down that front door,” she barked out, and engaged her communications gear to warn the others. “Connall just shot Siobhan. We have her in the lobby. Man your positions and report back.”
The others all confirmed their readiness.
Diana said, “I'm on the balcony. I don't have eyes on him yet. Can you tell where the shot came from?”
As Michaela leaned close to the vampiress, she replayed the shot in her mind and examined the angle of the arrow's penetration. “From above. Diagonal to the building, probably the southwest corner of First Avenue,” she said.
“Roger that. I don't see anything on the rooftop,” Diana reported, but a second later she said, “Wait. There's an open window by the neon sign. Second floor. The deli across the street. It's too dark to see any activity.”
“That’s my area,” Jesus said. “I'm moving in.”
Michaela prayed for his safety as Siobhan struggled against the hold of the guard, who had managed to cuff her hands in front of her. He had her shoulders pinned to the floor. The vampiress rolled from side to side, attempting to dislodge him, crying out, “Burning! It's burning me alive!”
Michaela laid her hand on Siobhan's chest, trying to keep her from creating more damage from the silver nitrate–tipped arrow. She understood all too well what the other woman was feeling. Months earlier she had been impaled with a silver-laced stake. She had felt the fire of the poison searing through her body as she lay dying. Only she hadn't. Thanks to her friends, she had survived the pain and horrible suffering.
She shuddered in memory and said, “Easy, Siobhan. We'll help you, but you've got to stop moving. That’ll just make it worse.”
She had always relied more on her fists than words, but something in her tone soothed the dying vampiress.
And she was fairly certain Siobhan was going to die.
Although the arrow had failed to make a direct hit on Siobhan’s heart, Michaela sensed it had nicked the organ or her aorta. Even if she removed the arrow to stop the poison from spreading, the silver nitrate would keep the wound from healing, so the vampiress would bleed out.
A lose–lose scenario.
But Michaela wouldn’t tell that to the vampiress, the pesky compassion she couldn't shake sneaking in to keep her final moments less terrifying.
“That's it, Siobhan,” Michaela said as Siobhan quieted. “Rest easy, so we can take care of you.”
The woman grabbed her hand. “He's killed me, hasn't he? Connall's killed me.”
“I'm sorry. We'll try to do what we can,” Michaela said, but that meant little more than helping her pass peacefully.
Siobhan closed her eyes and moaned, “Hurts. I'm on fire all over. Burning up.”
No matter that Siobhan was her enemy, Michaela hated to see the suffering. There was only one way to end it, but first, she needed information.
“We'll take care of you, Siobhan, but I need your help. Where is Connall's lair?”
Tears streamed from the woman's eyes as she opened them and fixed her gaze on Michaela's face. “You'll kill him for me, right? Make him pay for this?”
Michaela nodded. “That’s a promise.”
Siobhan's grip tightened on Michaela’s hand as another wave of agony washed through the vampiress’s body, the silver stealing her life away.
“You will have justice, Siobhan. Tell me where we can find him.”
“My apartment,” she said, and murmured an address that Michaela quickly memorized.
“Where else, Siobhan? We know he's got another hiding place. Somewhere he thinks is totally safe,” Michaela pressed, but Siobhan shook her head, fear of Connall’s retribution still gripping her, even as death approached.
Michaela understood not to push her luck. She sensed the vampiress’s quickly fading life force as the grip of her hand gradually slackened. Thankfully, she wouldn't have to put her out of her misery. The silver was working quickly on her young body.
“My favorite place was always the beach,” Michaela said, using her most soothing tones. “I loved hearing the sound of the waves and feeling the heat of the sun on my skin and beneath my feet on a hot summer day. What about you, Siobhan? Where do you like to go?”
A small smile crept across the woman's lips as her breathing grew more and more labored. “Lake house...parents...loved it,” she said, her voice barely a rasp.
“Go there now, Siobhan. Go visit them again,” Michaela urged, and with a surprising show of strength, the dying woman tightened her grip on her hand and drew her near.
Michaela bent down, ignoring the worried looks of the two guards who probably thought the vampiress wanted a bite out of her before dying.
Turning her ear closer, the other woman whispered a few more hesitant words before saying a little louder, “Kill him for me.”
Michaela felt her hand go slack, and as she rose, Siobhan's sightless eyes stared back at her—but her expression was peaceful. Michaela passed a hand over her eyes to close them, rose to her feet, and was about to report to the others when she heard Ryder come across the wire.
“He's at the east side alley. I'm going in.”
“I'll be there in a second,” Benjamin responded quickly.
Concern mixed with excitement burst through Michaela’s whole body.
With a blast of vamp speed, she rushed through the building to join the men.
This was it.
Vengeance was at hand.