Текст книги "Midnight Alley"

Автор книги: Rachel Caine

Соавторы: Rachel Caine
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Текущая страница: 14 (всего у книги 16 страниц)

It was only when she got there that she saw it was already nightfall.

Eddie wouldn't come for her after dark, and she was a long way from home. Too far to walk.

Claire was about to dial Michael at home when she spotted a police car cruising slowly down the cul-de-sac. Not a vampire squad car – this one had only light tinting on the front windows, although the back was blacked out. Claire squinted against the harsh brightness and waved. The effects of the crystals were ebbing fast, and she felt clumsy, strange, and exhausted. All she wanted to do was sleep. She'd have taken a ride with Satan in his big red handbasket if it had helped her get off of her feet for a few minutes.

The cruiser pulled to a stop, and the passenger side window rolled down. Claire bent over to look inside.

Officer Fenton. "You shouldn't be out by yourself," he said. "You know better. Everybody's looking for you. Your friends called you in as missing."

"Oh," she said. That hadn't even occurred to her. She hadn't realized how long she'd been away. "I just – can I get a ride home? Please?"

He shrugged. "Hop in." She did, gratefully, and buckled herself in. Everything ached now – her head, her eyes, every muscle in her body. And she had the feeling it was going to get worse before it got better. "Speaking of your friends, how are they? Heard about that thing with Shane. Damn shame."

"He'll be okay," she said.

"And the other one? Michael?"

"Yeah, he's fine," she said. "Why?"

"Just checking. Probably good to keep an eye on him, since he was the target of the hit in the first place," Fenton said. He turned the patrol car in a slow, crunching circle and headed back out, away from the alley. "Since the guy was looking for him, specifically."

Claire's head hurt too much for conversation. "I guess," she agreed faintly. And then some last flash of cognitive clarity put together strings of chemicals, and she felt her heartbeat jump and hammer harder. "How did you know that?"

"What?"

"I mean, about Sam not being the real target? He was unconscious when you found him. He couldn't have said anything."

"Unconscious, crap. He was dead."

"But anyway, he couldn't have said – " Things clicked into place, and the pattern looked bad. Very bad. "You were there before the sirens."

"What are you talking about?"

"When we first looked out, we saw you parked behind Sam's car and we just thought you'd found him there. But you didn't just find him lying in the street —"

Officer Fenton pressed the gas pedal, and the cruiser shot forward at a high rate of speed. He turned on the lights. She heard the harsh clicking sound they made, and the night was flooded with flashes of blue and red strobes.

"Where are you taking me?"

"Shut up."

Claire put her hand on the door handle, but they were going so fast she knew she couldn't jump. She'd be badly hurt, at the very least. "If you hurt me, the Founder – "

"That's what we're counting on," Fenton sneered. "Shut up."

###

Shane would have totally gotten off on the whole vampire-killer-secret-society thing. Claire just wanted to go home. Badly.

In addition to Officer Fenton, the group that gathered in the shed behind the photo processing store included Fenton's wife, the unpleasant nurse, who treated Claire like she was carrying some totally disgusting disease. She even wore latex gloves to tie Claire to the chair.

Claire barely recognized the others. One was a maintenance worker from the university, she'd seen him a few times. One was a bank teller. One was the smooth-faced, unremarkable guy who'd delivered Amelie's note to her this afternoon.

And he was the one who leaned over into her space, hands braced on the arms of the chair, and said, "We don't much care for collaborators. Even little underage ones."

Claire's mouth felt foul and dry, and she was shaking now with the aftereffects of the crystals. Myrnin had been right: the consequences weren't going to be pleasant. "Captain Obvious, I presume," she said.

He laughed. He had nice, white teeth, no sign of vampire fangs. "Aren't you the clever one. Living up to your reputation, I see." He tapped a finger on her gold bracelet. "Not too many breathers have ever seen the Founder, much less become her pet. Sam Glass was the last one, before you. Did you know that? This is his bracelet you're wearing. Probably sized down a little, though."

She squirmed a little, but the ropes were too tight. "What do you want with me?"

"Leverage," said Officer Fenton. "Vamps seem to like you."

"Not all of them," Claire said. If they asked Oliver to come running to her rescue, it wasn't too likely he'd so much as yawn. "And if you think Amelie's going to sacrifice herself for me, you're crazy." Amelie had already sold her down the river, by sending her to Myrnin with the clear expectation that Myrnin would ... eat her. The fact that he hadn't was just Claire's good luck. "In fact, I don't think any of them would raise a finger – "

"Michael Glass would," Captain Obvious said. "And he's the one we want." He flipped open the phone and pressed something on speed dial. "Tell him where you are."

Claire glared. "No." She clamped her lips shut as she heard Michael's distant hello on the other end. I'm not going to talk, I'm not going to make a sound ...

The door at the back of the shed opened, and someone came in. Thin, greasy, dressed in a black leather jacket with a hole in the pocket. Crazy eyes. Fang marks on his neck.

Jason.

He took the phone from Captain Obvious. "Hey, Michael, it's Jason. Just shut up and listen. I've got Claire, and I'm thinking about all the things I can do with her until you get here. Better hurry."

"No!" Claire blurted, and realized it was a mistake. She'd just confirmed that she was there, and now Michael wouldn't have any choice, would he? "Michael, don't!"

She could hear the sound of Michael's voice, but not what he was saying. Jason put the phone back to his ear and listened. "Yeah, that's right. You've got half an hour to show, or we'll bring her home in pieces. Oh, and it's not a trap, it's a business proposition. You walk in alone, you both walk out alive."

He snapped the phone shut, tossed it in the air, and caught it, smiling. His eyes never left Claire.

Michael wouldn't do it. He just wouldn't be that stupid, right? But Shane was in the hospital. He didn't have anybody he could turn to for help except the other vampires, and they wouldn't lift a finger to save Claire. She wasn't sure anymore that Amelie would bother, unless she was just saving her as Myrnin's midnight snack.

The door to the shed opened again, and both Captain Obvious and Jason turned to look.

Detective Travis Lowe stepped inside and closed the door, and for a second Claire felt a wild jolt of relief and satisfaction, but it faded just as quickly. Lowe looked at Jason and Captain Obvious like he was expecting to find them there, and when his gaze moved to Claire, he didn't react.

Oh God. He was one of them. Whoever them might be.

"Could you screw this up any more?" he asked, low and vicious. "I told you, Glass isn't important. We don't need to do this."

"He's the youngest. He's a symbol, man," Captain Obvious said. "And he was one of us. He's a traitor."

One of us? Did he mean – no, he couldn't mean that. He couldn't mean that Michael knew these people, that he'd been part of this skanky little conspiracy ...

Nurse Fenton destroyed that hope by saying, "We've already been over this. Michael knows too much. If he decides to talk, we're all dead. We can't take the risk. Not anymore." She shot her husband a dark look. "If you hadn't screwed up – "

"Don't blame me! Vampire car pulling out of the vampire's house, how was I supposed to know it wasn't him?"

Of course. No wonder that had bothered her all along – the house had woken all of them up not because of the threat to Sam, but the threat to Michael, its owner. Even though Michael wasn't there, it was reacting to intent.

Officer Fenton hadn't been the first man on the scene, he'd been the one who staked Sam and left him to die, then pretended to be Johnny-on-the-spot. If Richard Morrell hadn't shown up to scoop and run, he would have succeeded.

Claire swallowed hard and focused on Detective Lowe. "I thought you were a good guy."

Something weary and painful passed across his face. "Claire – " He shook his head. "It's not as simple as that. Not in Morganville. You don't just get to be one thing around here."

"It's not his fault," Jason said, and grinned like a wolf. "If he wants his partner back, he's not going to do anything stupid."

Detective Hess. They had him. No wonder she hadn't seen him for days – and no wonder Lowe had been acting weird. She looked more closely at Officer Fenton, and found he had a dark bruise on his left cheek that matched the scrapes on Detective Lowe's knuckles. He'd been in the house, maybe with Detective Hess, and Lowe had taken a swing at him.

Lowe's eyes were dark and full of misery, and he looked away from Claire. "The kid's got nothing to do with this," he said.

"The kid hangs with the top-shelf vampires," Nurse Fenton shot back. "How many humans do you know with access to the Founder? She doesn't even let her own kind get close! Of course she's got something to do with this. Probably a lot more than you know."

Truer than Nurse Fenton knew. Claire thought about what she'd learned from Myrnin – the vampire sickness, the wormhole doorways through town, the network of Founder Houses – and realized that she knew enough to destroy Morganville.

Except that destroying it to save it didn't seem like the right idea.

She did her best to look scared and clueless. The first part, at least, wasn't much of a stretch.

When Jason sauntered over and put his hand on Claire's shoulder, she flinched. He smelled like a garbage heap in the summer, and she caught a lingering hint of gunpowder from his coat. He shot Shane. And he'd smiled about it, too.

"Get your hands off me," she said, and turned to stare right at him. "I'm not afraid of you."

Lowe grabbed Jason by the arm, swung him around, and slammed him face-first into the rough wooden wall of the shed. "Me neither," he growled. "And I'm not tied to a chair. Leave her alone."

"Big hero," Nurse Fenton said bitterly. "You and Hess, you're pathetic."

"Am I?" Hess twisted Jason's arm painfully high. "I'm not the one raping and knifing girls for fun."

"Jason's not the one doing it either," Fenton said. "He just likes to talk about it."

Claire said, "Then how'd he know about the one in our basement?"

They all looked at her. "I never saw a report about any body in your house," Lowe said. "Just the one in the alley."

Jason laughed, a dry crack of sound. "They moved it. Hey, Claire, you ever think that maybe it wasn't me, maybe it was one of your two boyfriends inside the house? Shane, he ain't too stable, you know. And who knows about Michael?"

She wanted to scream at him, but she saved her strength. She had thin wrists, Captain Obvious hadn't done a very good job of tying her; she could feel a little give in the ropes, and she wouldn't need much slack to slip at least one hand free. The rough surface of the rope sawed at her skin, but she kept pulling, trying not to make it too obvious, and felt a sudden sharp pain in her wrist as the cut Jason had given her broke open again, sending a slow trickle of blood down her wrist.

It helped, along with the sweat running down her arms. She coughed, and at the same time pulled, and her right hand slipped free of the ropes with a fiery scrape. She kept it behind her back and started working on the knot holding her left hand to the crossbar of the chair.

"So what are you?" she asked, to fill the silence and keep them from noticing what she was doing. "Vampire hunters?"

"Freedom fighters," Officer Fenton said. "A lot of people in this town want out, or want the vampires gone, they just need people to act for them. That's what we do."

"Not that I've noticed," Claire sniffed. "Shane's dad blew into town and killed all the vampires that I know about. What have you done?"

"Shut up," Nurse Fenton said flatly. "You've been here months, if that. You have no idea what this town is like to live in. When we're ready, we'll act. Frank Collins had the right idea, but he wasn't much of a planner."

"So you're planning a revolution," Claire said. "Not just random attacks."

"Would you stop telling the prisoner our plans?" Captain Obvious snapped. "Jesus, don't you watch movies? Just shut up!"

"She's not going to tell anybody," Officer Fenton said, in such an offhand way that Claire's heart sank.

They didn't intend to keep any promises to Michael. No way were they letting Michael, or her, walk out of here alive.

Don't do it, Michael. Don't come for me.

But fifteen minutes later, the door burst open, and a vampire rushed in, wrapped in a heavy blanket. The greasy smell of cooking flesh filled the shed, and then the vampire kicked the door closed and collapsed against it, gasping. Smoke rose up from him in a thick, choking cloud. In a few places, Claire could see blackened skin beneath the covering.

"About time," Fenton growled, picked up a black stick from a crate next to him, and drove it into the vampire's chest. For a second Claire thought that it had been a stake, but then she saw sparks, and the vampire went down in a tangle of blankets and smoke.

He'd been tasered.

Captain Obvious brought out a wooden stake and rolled the vampire over. Claire screamed. Somehow, she'd been avoiding thinking of him as Michael, but the flash of golden hair and the pale shape of his face was unmistakable.

His blue eyes were open, but he couldn't move. There were burned patches on his hands and arms, but he was alive ...

Captain Obvious positioned the stake.

Claire lurched to her feet and spun to her right. Her left hand was still tied to the crossbar of the chair, but the momentum helped her use it as a weapon, swinging with bone-breaking force right into Captain Obvious's back. He crumpled against the wall. Claire grabbed the chair in both hands and used it as a shield as Officer Fenton jabbed the taser at her, knocking it aside, and managed to hit him in the gut with at least one of the chair's legs. He stumbled backward.

Travis Lowe cursed and flicked handcuffs onto Jason's wrists. "Sit your ass down," he ordered, and pulled his gun. He looked strained and grim, but determined. "Back up, Fenton. You too, Christine. Turn and face the wall."

"You can't do this," Officer Fenton said. "Trav, if you cross us – "

"I know. You'll get me. I'll try not to pee all over myself in terror." Lowe nodded to Claire, who was undoing the last of the knots holding the chair to her left hand. "Put the cuffs on them. I'll cover you." He tossed her an extra two sets, and she fumbled the unfamiliar weight in her numbed fingers. As she bent to pick them up, Captain Obvious – down, not out – reached over Michael's still body, grabbed her foot, and yanked. Claire cried out and fell, and Captain Obvious dragged her backward.

Lowe spun, aiming his gun, but it was too late. Captain Obvious had a knife, a big, wicked thing, and he put it to Claire's throat, right under her chin. It felt cold, then hot as it pressed into the tender skin. "Put it down, Jeff," Lowe barked. He took a threatening step forward. "I mean it, I will put you down."

He got tasered in the back. Claire watched him convulse and fall, and felt panic well up inside. They'll kill us now. All three of us. Four, counting Joe Hess, who was being held prisoner somewhere else.

She heard a sharp, loud crack, and a pale strong hand exploded through the boards beside Captain Obvious's head, grabbed him, and pulled. The entire section of boards broke away, and Captain Obvious was yanked backward. Claire felt the knife slide along her neck, but it didn't have any force behind it – he dropped it, flailing for balance, and then he was outside in the bright, dusty sunlight, and there was a dry snapping sound.

Oliver stepped into the shed, dressed in a black leather trenchcoat, a black broad-brimmed hat, and black gloves.

And gave them all a vampire smile.

"Well, that was refreshing," he asked. He reached down and pulled Michael up to a sitting position next to Claire, then stepped in front of them.

"Could've come sooner," Michael whispered. He was shaking all over, but he was coming out of his paralysis. Claire hugged him. He fumbled in his pocket, came up with a handkerchief, and pressed it to Claire's neck. She hadn't even realized she was bleeding.

Oliver ignored them, and walked toward the Fentons, who tried to get to the door. He flashed ahead of them with that easy snakelike speed vampires could display when they wanted, and Claire shuddered at the looks on their faces.

They knew what was going to happen to them.

"Don't worry," Oliver said. "There'll be a fair trial. Since Samuel didn't die, and you didn't succeed today, you won't burn for what you've done." He reached for Christine Fenton's wrist, ripped her sleeve, and exposed her silver bracelet. It fit tightly around her wrist, but he slid a finger underneath the metal and it split along an invisible seam. He dropped the bracelet in his pocket, then did the same to Officer Fenton.

The places where their bracelets had been were sickly-pale, and Christine kept rubbing hers, as if the shock of open air on the skin was painful.

"Congratulations," Oliver said. "I release you from your contracts."

And then he grabbed Christine. Claire had a glimpse of his fangs flashing down, silvery and sharp, and then he slammed the woman against the wall of the shed and bit.

Claire hid her face against Michael's chest. He put his hand on her hair and held her there, turned away from the sight of Christine Fenton dying.

She heard the woman's body hit the floor and then Oliver, his voice thick and dark, say, "Your turn now."

A sharp, snapping sound, and another body hitting the floor.

When Michael let her go, Claire didn't look at the bodies. She couldn't.

She looked at Oliver, who was staring down at Travis Lowe. The detective was just starting to stir. "What about this one?" he asked. "Friend or foe?"

She had the power to kill him, just by telling the truth – that he'd been working with the Fentons and Captain Obvious, even if under duress.

Instead, she said, "Friend," and she saw Lowe's eyes close in relief. "His partner's missing. I think they were holding him somewhere."

Oliver nodded, clearly not interested, and turned a slow circle. "There was another one," he said. "Where is he?" He pulled in a deep breath, then let it out with disgusted cough. "Jason."

Sometime while Oliver had been busy killing the Fentons, Jason had escaped out the door, and Michael hadn't stopped him. Maybe too weak, maybe just worried for Claire. But anyway, Jason was long gone.

"I'll find him," Oliver said. "I've been tolerant, so long as he didn't threaten our interests, but enough." He glanced down at Michael and Claire. "Go home." He stalked away, out into the sun, without a backward glance. Three dead bodies, and he didn't even pause.

Travis Lowe managed to pull himself to a sitting position, groaning, and rested his head in his hands. "I hate tasers." He looked up and fixed his bloodshot gaze on Claire. "You're okay? Let me see your throat."

She moved the handkerchief. There was just a thin smear on the cloth. Her wrist was worse; she tied the cloth around it as a makeshift bandage and thought, I'm going to have to buy Michael some new ones. Though why she would think of that now, she had no idea. Maybe she just wanted to imagine normal life.

Because this definitely wasn't.

Michael stood up and helped Claire to her feet, then Lowe. He pulled keys from his pocket and tossed them to Lowe. "Pull the car in with the trunk facing the door," he said. "Open it and honk when you're ready."

Lowe nodded and went outside, into the blinding sun. Michael put both hands on Claire's shoulders and looked down at her, then cupped her cheeks in his palms.

"Don't do that again," he said.

"I didn't do anything. I got a ride from a cop, that was all —"

"Not that," he said. "Myrnin. Don't do it again. You can't go back. He'll kill you next time."

He knew where she'd been. Well, she supposed it hadn't been hard to figure out.

"You shouldn't have come," she said. "You knew it was a trap, what are you, crazy?"

"I called Oliver," Michael said.

"What are you, crazy?"

"It worked, didn't it?"

She looked around at the dead people in the shed. "Yeah."

He looked ill for a second, and started to say something, but then the horn honked outside, and he changed it to, "Ride's here."

She nodded, and walked out into the dazzling glare. Something brushed by her, moving fast, and then the trunk of the sedan slammed closed before she'd taken more than two steps.

Claire trudged to the passenger side of the car, exhausted and aching and feeling a stupid need to cry, and said nothing at all on the ride home.