In the Night
For once, Dez had no difficulty falling asleep. It might have been because the hayloft was so damned cozy. By dismantling a bale and spreading his blanket on top of it, he’d made something not as comfortable as a proper bed, but a creditable if lumpy facsimile. Or maybe it was the cumulative effect of the last few days that let him drift off so rapidly. After a month of doing little but recovering, his level of physical activity had certainly seen an uptick.
So falling asleep had been no trouble. But sometime in the night, he awoke and realized something was wrong. They’d chosen the left side of the hayloft so the moonlight pouring through the hole in the roof wouldn’t shine in their eyes, but at about ten feet away Dez was nearest to the hole, and he knew even before he opened his eyes that the light was shifting. He looked up, sure it was just a raft of clouds scudding over the moon, but then he made out the outline of a head.
He stretched his arm toward his crossbow. For a few seconds he was sure the watcher didn’t detect the movement. Then a pair of orange orbs flared to life and he realized what was staring at him.
“Look out!” he shouted as he snatched up the crossbow and aimed it at the vampire, but the vampire had lunged, propelling itself through the roof hole like a missile. Dez fired. The bolt missed the plummeting vampire by an inch, and the creature thumped to the floor of the loft. He heard the others’ voices, saw Iris scrambling to her knees, but his eyes were fixed on the vampire, who’d risen to all fours, face upturned and snarling, eyes glowing like jack-o’-lanterns. And there was another distinguishing feature: a red cross painted on the vampire’s forehead.
There was no time to load another bolt, and the bloodsucker was too near for him to do anything but make a desperate grab for his machete. But Red Cross moved with him, appallingly fast. Red Cross crashed into him just as his hand closed on the machete, and when he was slammed to the hayloft floor, his weapon bounced free. Red Cross leaned his head back, and Dez caught the alabaster glint of his teeth, the mouth yawning wide for the kill.
A foot flashed over Dez’s head and kicked Red Cross in the face. The head whipped sideways, then the vampire glowered at whoever it was – Michael? Iris? – he couldn’t tell, and it didn’t matter because beyond Red Cross’s shoulder, Dez spied another shape materializing in the roof hole. Then Red Cross lunged at whoever had kicked him, and the second vampire dropped through the roof.
A blast from behind Dez made him twist around. Red Cross went stumbling back. Levi, he saw, had been the one to fire.
Good boy, Dez thought.
Something seized his shoulders, and he realized he’d turned his back on the second vampire. Then he was heaved through the air, away from the group—
—out of the hayloft.
At first he thought he’d land on the hard-packed ground; then he caught the dull glimmer of the tractor windshield and knew he was going to crash into it. He just managed to turn his shoulder before he smacked the steel hood, bounced, but somehow didn’t fall off. And though he’d plummeted maybe fifteen feet, through dumb luck he’d been saved an even steeper drop by the tractor.
He twisted onto his back just in time to see the second vampire arcing toward him. This one, he saw as it landed, was a blond woman who resembled Charlize Theron, only not quite a spitting image. She landed nimbly on the nose of the tractor, then rose up and stared at him, her eyes not as large as Red Cross’s, but their orange glow just as intense.
Just as hungry.
Dez got a grip on the edge of the tractor and swung a leg sideways – Sweep the leg! he thought crazily – but when his boot connected with Not-Quite-Charlize’s knee, she merely moved with the kick, her legs swinging sideways, up, and over, and landed after doing a complete clockwise spin.
Dez gaped at her. She grinned and dove for him. All he could do was roll off the tractor.
He landed, his knees and elbows pounding the dirt. He made to rise but she came slicing down at him, her fist flashing out and catching him in the nose. Dez half spun with the force of the blow and landed on his side. Dazed, he pushed to hands and knees and peered up toward the hayloft.
Where a third vampire was dropping through.
And we’re fucked, he thought.
It was four against three, but the three were vampires. Dez and his companions had weapons, but they’d been caught unawares. He was thinking this when a gunshot erupted from the hayloft.
Dez and Not-Quite-Charlize turned in time to see Red Cross catapulted backward, sailing through the air in their general direction, and land with a boneless thump a few feet away. Red Cross was only down for a moment. Then his upper body levered from the floor, and in that seated position he swiveled his head at Dez. Now I’ve got two of them, Dez thought. Lovely.
But above Red Cross, Dez spied two more figures descending the ladder, Iris and Michael. The sight buoyed his spirits, but underneath it he worried about Levi, who was now alone in the loft with the third vampire. He’ll never survive.
Dez had actually pushed to his feet and begun sprinting that way when Not-Quite-Charlize grabbed him, hauled him off his feet, and flung him through the air. Dez skidded on the floor and wedged up against something. It wasn’t bright in the barn, but there was enough light to make out the wicked steel tines jutting above him, their lengths mottled with rust. Holy shit, he thought. He’d missed the row of spikes by inches. As he scuttled out from under the rolling harrow, he glimpsed Michael and Iris going at it with Red Cross. Neither one carried a gun, and that was a bleak sign. Had the vampire disarmed them?
Not completely, Dez realized. Before he turned to face Not-Quite-Charlize, he caught a glimpse of Michael whipping his knife in a backhand at Red Cross’s face. Red Cross bent backward, then clocked Michael in the side of the head. Michael went down with a grunt. Iris leapt at Red Cross, but Dez didn’t see what happened to her because Not-Quite-Charlize obscured his view, her face transforming into something decidedly inhuman.
The change, he thought.
Unlike movie vampires, real vampires changed in more ways than elongated canines. Their faces grew vulpine, their mouths broadened, and their eyes glowed like sun-kissed doubloons. The blond vampire before him, who’d been attractive moments ago, was becoming a leering horror. Maybe she scented the blood trickling from Dez’s nose. She darted toward him, and Dez threw up an arm. The scythe-like teeth sank into his jacket at the elbow, and instinctively he yanked his arm away. Heart thundering, he glanced at his elbow, didn’t see any blood where the swatch of fabric had been removed, and below the fear of death another dread bloomed in him: being changed.
Don’t worry about that now! a voice screamed. You won’t have to worry about becoming one of them if you’re dead.
Dez backpedaled, Not-Quite-Charlize matching his steps. Her leer was a gremlin-like horror, all teeth and lucent eyes and writhing lips. Beyond her, Iris was catapulted away from Red Cross to land near the stalls. Michael was down too.
Not-Quite-Charlize swung at him, her lethal talons cleaving the air a centimeter from his face. Dez planted, swung a haymaker at her, and cracked her in the nose. She merely grinned.
To hell with this, Dez thought. He turned and ran. He didn’t know if she’d followed, but he made it to the backside of the tractor, where he cast about desperately for a weapon. There was precious little here. Everything useful was in the loft. His crossbow, his Ruger, his machete. A gonging sound from above drew his attention. Not-Quite-Charlize stared down at him from the roof of the tractor. Damn, he thought. Do they have to be so agile?
Something else drew his attention: the third vampire peering down from the loft, its stance imperious. Was it the leader? It surveyed Dez a moment, then it leapt downward, in the direction of Michael and Iris. No!
Without thinking, Dez scurried around the rear of the tractor and discovered Red Cross and the loft vampire standing side by side, looming over his downed friends. Dimly, the notion that Levi was already dead in the loft flitted through his mind.
He thrust that away. Iris and Michael were still alive, but both were dazed, battered, and the vampires were stalking toward them. Iris rose up and swung her knife at the loft vampire. She sank the blade into its chest, but rather than going down, the vampire hip-tossed Iris and sent her barrel-rolling through a shaft of moonlight. The vampire strode toward Iris, reaching up and yanking the knife out of its chest, and as it passed through the moonlight Dez saw it was a Black woman with shoulder-length hair, leather clothes, and, for the moment, human features. But her eyes had begun to flicker orange.
Iris was in trouble. Michael was too. Red Cross had snagged him by the collar, was dragging him toward the center of the barn, where Iris and the leather-clad vampire were currently engaged.
This time Dez heard Not-Quite-Charlize before he saw her. He lunged toward the trash can, knowing how futile it was. The four of them would be dead any moment, bled out, and that would be their end. Exsanguinated in a barn.
Dez gritted his teeth and got ahold of the garbage can lid as Not-Quite-Charlize surged toward him. He swung the lid as she aimed another vicious swipe, and though sparks didn’t fly, the screech her nails made over the aluminum sent chills racing up and down his spine. She clawed at him, but again he blocked her with the lid. She swiped again, but he lashed out with the lid, bashed her in the face, and she staggered back. Then she stabilized, bent at the waist, and glowered up at him.
Oh man, he thought.
Not-Quite-Charlize darted toward him. He attempted to clock her with the lid, but she dodged sideways and wrested it from his grip. He thought she’d merely toss it away, but she raised it and conked him on top of the head. Dez sank to his knees. Fuck, it hurt.
She chucked the lid aside, snatched him up, lifted him into the air, and opened her mouth. A carrion stench overwhelmed him as she drew him closer, her nest of teeth a chaotic snarl of bone shards, like a goblin shark’s, and this was it. He thrust out his hands to ward her off and then a shot rang out. She jolted, dropped him, and whirled to see who’d shot her.
Levi. Gun extended, Levi was standing a mere ten feet away from the other two vampires, as well as Michael and Iris, who lay on the ground, apparently beaten. Check that, Dez amended. Iris was rising to her feet, but she looked as beleaguered as he’d ever seen her. Michael, too, was pushing up to hands and knees, but he wasn’t going to make it. Red Cross had been about to attack Michael, presumably to finish him off, but now he turned toward Levi, who didn’t see him coming. Levi was still taking aim at Not-Quite-Charlize, and just as Dez was about to cry out for Levi to turn around, turn around, something happened that rocked him to his core.
Her leather clothes glinting in the wan light, the Black vampire seized Red Cross from behind and swung him through the air. Red Cross uttered a surprised yelp, then soared toward the harrow, and with a pulpy shlit the rusty tines impaled him. He hung there upside down, his blood sluicing from a half dozen wounds and melding with the tomato-colored cross on his forehead.
Not-Quite-Charlize spun toward the leather-clad vampire and squalled. Levi took aim at Not-Quite-Charlize again, and Dez dove sideways so he wouldn’t get blasted. But when he hit the ground, he looked up in time to see Leather aim a kick at Levi’s hand and send the gun skittering into the darkness.
Not-Quite-Charlize charged at Leather. At the same moment Iris gained her feet and punched Leather in the back of the head. Leather swatted Iris away like an irritating gnat.
Dez hastened after Not-Quite-Charlize. Red Cross was still impaled upside down on the harrow, but he was struggling madly, attempting to muscle himself off the rusty tines. The female vampires were circling one another, and as Leather passed by Michael, he seized her leg, attempted to jerk her off her feet. She reached down, grasped the crown of his head, and squeezed. Michael yowled and pawed at her hand, but couldn’t pry it off. Levi went barreling at Leather, who released Michael, swung up a boot, and cracked Levi in the face. Levi’s legs flew up, his body describing a half flip, and he thumped to the floor.
In the moment before he reached the vampires, Dez took all this in, how Leather immobilized his friends without killing them, how Not-Quite-Charlize was even now preparing to attack Leather. At a dead sprint, Dez launched himself at Not-Quite-Charlize. He caught her flush in the side, actually lifted her off her feet, then she landed on the granite-hard ground. They jounced together, Not-Quite-Charlize snarling, and before he could stop her, she’d spun him around and pinned him to the floor. She opened her mouth, eyes glowing like hellfire, and Dez knew it was the end.
Then Not-Quite-Charlize jerked, her bestial features puzzled, and her hands groped toward the back of her neck. An apron of blood flowed over her shoulders, down her open-throated collar, and pattered onto Dez’s stomach.
Beyond Not-Quite-Charlize, Dez saw Leather staring pitilessly down at her. Not-Quite-Charlize rose unsteadily to her feet, and Leather backed away, her fingernails dripping. She looked at Dez and uttered a single word: “Machete.”
Dez pushed to his feet and rushed over to the ladder. By the time he’d returned, Not-Quite-Charlize had sunk to all fours, blood dribbling from nasty slashes across her face. Leather stood over Not-Quite-Charlize, talons slimed in the blond vampire’s blood. Leather extended her hand. Dez furnished her with the machete.
With the four of them looking on – Levi muzzy, Michael and Iris severely bedraggled, Dez simply thunderstruck by what he was witnessing – Leather positioned herself beside the kneeling blond vampire, raised the machete, and guillotined her head off. A jet of blood spewed onto the dusty barn floor.
Dez glanced at Iris and saw she was as flummoxed as he was.
Without pause, Leather strode over to the harrow, where Red Cross was still trying to raise himself from the impaling tines. She swung the machete two-handed and cleaved his head off at a single stroke. Upside down, the headless body gushed blood, the bright scarlet puddle reminding Dez of acrylic paint.
Leather straightened and looked at them. “You guys wanna have a go?”
Levi gaped at the leather-clad vampire. “Why did you knock the gun out of my hand?”
Michael rubbed the side of his head and winced. “Not the first question I would’ve asked, but whatever.”
“Gunshots attract attention,” Iris said.
Leather looked at her.
Iris looked steadily back. “You wanted to get away from them.”
No answer.
“Why?” Michael asked. “Thought you vamps loved the kill.”
Leather shook her head. “So prejudiced. You Latents assume we enjoy it. That we lost our souls when we changed.”
“Hey, forgive me,” Michael said, “but experience is a harsh teacher.”
“He lost someone,” Dez explained.
“We’ve all lost someone,” Leather answered.
“He’s not a Latent either,” Dez said. At the vampire’s questioning look, Dez nodded at Michael. “Pyrokinesis.”
She glared at Michael. “Why the hell didn’t you use it?”
“He has to recharge,” Levi said. “He set a troll on fire earlier.”
“No shit?” the vampire said. “The bridge people?”
Levi took a step forward. “Iris is a siren.”
The vampire cocked an eyebrow at Iris. “That right?”
“I don’t know what I am,” she said. “But siren is close enough.”
“And what about you?” the vampire asked Dez.
“I’m nothing,” he said.
She eyed him. “Sounds about right.”
Dez winced.
“What should we call you?” Levi asked.
“Cassandra,” she said.
Dez ambled over to the harrow, where blood still trickled from the decapitated vampire. “So you got tired of killing and decided tonight was your best chance at escape?”
She shrugged. “Bloodlust makes vampires lose their minds.”
“They did seem pretty enthusiastic,” Michael said.
“I knew if they were focused on you, I could surprise them.”
“And what if we’d died in the process?” Iris asked.
“I’ve seen many people die,” Cassandra answered. “It doesn’t faze me anymore.”
Michael’s eyebrows went up. “Sure as shit would’ve fazed me.”
She moved to the barn door, lifted the tarp aside, and peered out. In the silence, Dez glanced at Iris, who looked back at him, her expression wary.
Cassandra rejoined them. “If they’re coming, there’s nothing we can do. But maybe we’ll get lucky.”
“Why should we trust you?” Michael asked.
For the first time, Cassandra smiled. “You think I couldn’t kill you if I wanted to?”
Michael shifted uneasily. “We were doing all right.”
“You were getting your dicks kicked in.”
“Why did you leave?” Iris prompted.
Cassandra scowled at her. “I don’t feel like justifying my actions to a bunch of sad sacks whose lives I just saved.”
“Thank you,” Levi said. At Michael’s look, Levi shrugged. “Well, she did save us.”
Iris crossed her arms. “You want us to believe you rediscovered your humanity.”
“Flimsy,” Michael commented.
“You should learn some respect,” Cassandra said.
Michael smiled. “You gonna teach me?”
Dez said, “We need to know if you mean us harm. Explaining why you killed two of your own kind would go a long way toward accomplishing that.”
Cassandra’s face went cold. “They’re not my kind. They kill for fun. They like it. And now they’re talking about changing children.”
Iris took a step toward her. “They have children with them?”
“One,” Cassandra agreed. “A little girl.”
Iris’s eyes were wide. “Is her name Cassidy?”
Cassandra’s lips opened slightly. “Well, holy shit,” she said.
Grim-faced, Iris rushed toward the hayloft. “We’ve gotta go.”
“Hold on,” Michael said, but Iris was already shinning up the ladder.
Cassandra, Dez noticed, said nothing.
“Where are you based?” Levi asked.
“Western Indiana High School,” she answered.
“No kidding,” Dez said. At her inquiring glance, he explained, “While I was a teacher, I used to coach a little. Junior high basketball. We played a few games at Western Indiana.”
“So you know the layout.”
“Not really. The bus let us out at the athletic entrance, we headed to the gym, and that was about it.”
“Gym’s not used much these days,” she said.
“Vampires don’t like exercise?” Michael asked.
Cassandra scrunched her nose. “The smell. It has this permanent stench. Like sweat and body odor.”
They heard Iris clattering around in the hayloft.
Dez asked, “Any chance you can give us directions?”
“You’d be the dumbest motherfuckers in the world to go tonight,” she said.
“Everyone ready?” Iris asked and started down.
Cassandra watched her. “I take it Cassidy is yours.”
“My reason for living,” Iris answered.
Dez saw a shadow cross Cassandra’s face, and apparently Iris noticed it too because her expression tightened. “What? Don’t tell me they’ve already—”
“Not until Thursday night,” Cassandra said.
Iris looked around quickly. “What day is today?”
“Tuesday,” Levi answered. “Thursday’s Thanksgiving.”
“That’s right,” Cassandra said. “The queen likes doing things on holidays. It’s more ceremonial.”
Michael said, “The queen? She a little old white-haired lady, waves at you with the back of her hand?”
Cassandra fixed him with a level stare. “She’s the most lethal creature I’ve ever met.”
For once, Michael didn’t have a smart-ass retort.
“Tell us about the school,” Iris said. “Huge, dinky? Two stories or one? How old is the building? How hard is it gonna be to—”
“Before we get into all of that,” Cassandra said, “you’re gonna have to do a couple things for me.”
Iris said, “We don’t have time for that.”
“You do have time,” Cassandra answered, “and you’ll do what I say.”
“Or what?” Iris snapped. “You’ll try to kill us?”
Cassandra raised an eyebrow. “Try?”
“Nobody’s killing anybody,” Dez said. “What do you need?”
“First off,” she answered, “cover those damned wounds. I’m fighting the urge, but I’m tempted.”
Michael’s eyes narrowed. “I thought vampires couldn’t control their bloodlust.”
She looked at him. “Exactly.”
He drew his collar over the scratch on his neck.
“What else?” Dez asked.
“Sop up the blood,” Cassandra said, her voice a little husky. “I can smell it on you.”
Levi nodded. “Fair enough.”
“After that,” she said, tearing her eyes off Michael’s neck, “drag those bodies back to the stalls.”
Dez glanced at the impaled vampire. “You’re attracted to that blood too?”
“Sure,” she said. “Plus, I don’t like looking at them.”
“Feel guilty?” Michael asked.
She shrugged. Nodded at the upside-down body, the spikes protruding from its chest, the neck stump pinkish. “It’s sort of gross, right?”
“Pretty sensitive for a vampire,” Michael said.
She took a step toward him. “I’ll show you sensitive.”
Iris stepped between them. “Enough. Any more requests?”
“I smell alcohol,” Cassandra said. “Clean that up too.”
At Dez’s puzzled look, Levi explained, “Your bottle of whiskey got pulverized in the brawl.”
“It’s making my eyes water,” Cassandra said.
Dez sniffed the air, detected nothing. “You sure?”
“Our sense of smell is three times as strong as yours,” Cassandra explained.
“Impressive,” Iris said. “Tell us how to get to the school.”
“We’ve got two days,” Levi pointed out.
“You’re assuming this monster’s telling us the truth?” Iris snapped.
“Watch it,” Dez murmured.
But if Cassandra was angry, she hid it well.
“And who says,” Iris went on, “we have to swoop in during the ceremony and save the day at the last instant? I’m not gonna leave anything to chance. I’m getting my daughter tonight, and that’s that.” She looked at Dez and spread her arms. “Aren’t you eager to get Susan?”
“If she’s there,” Dez said.
“She’s there,” Cassandra answered. “At least, if we’re talking about the same Susan. Long dark hair? Pretty?”
He nodded.
Cassandra held his gaze another moment before blowing out a weary breath. “Listen, do what I asked you to do. You’re sure as hell not leaving tonight, not with everybody roaming the countryside for prey.”
Levi stepped toward her. “Will you go with us to the school? Tomorrow, I mean?”
“You lambs get me for tonight. I’ll tell you what I know. Be thankful for that.”
“Lambs?” Dez asked.
She’d started toward the hayloft but paused to give him a sidelong look. “It’s what we call you.”
She headed up the ladder.
“Lambs, huh?” Michael said. “I would’ve preferred sheep. At least they’re full-grown.”