Cat Adams - Blood Song

warning to our quarry and reached inside the van to grab a long weapon. What the hel ?

Kristoff seemed to gain focus a little, managing to struggle weakly against his captor. But I barely

noticed. My eyes were only on Erikson, who had dropped into position and was preparing to fire.

“Look out!” I shouted to Gibson as I dodged between vehicles. I couldn’t see the shooter anymore,

but I heard the crack of a shot even over the sound of blaring guitars, and the window just inches

behind me shattered. He was good, scary good. I ducked my head and kept running, making myself as

much of a moving target as I could, using the vehicles for cover, doing my best to close on the woman

and her captive.

A second crack, barely distinguishable from the pyro-technics playing over the sound system, and I

heard the thud of a body hitting the ground. Glancing back, I saw a crumpled form in a slowly spreading

pool of blood on the pavement a few feet away.

The last words of the anthem trailed off, and the distant roar of jets flying in formation overhead took

their place.

Risking a look around the edge of the portable radar dish I was hiding behind, I saw Lydia less than

twenty feet from me. Though injured, she was rushing toward the spot where the prince lay on the

ground. The door to the van was empty, but its motor was running. Ivan lay col apsed in the open

ground between his prince and the van, the vehicle behind where he’d been standing splattered with

meat and blood.

I charged, shouting in rage and defiance, throwing myself into the woman with a jarring ful -body tackle

that sent us sprawling onto the pavement.

She was tough, and good. She rol ed with the impact, using my own momentum against me and

breaking free. I rol ed, too, gaining my feet, taking a defensive posture that put me directly between her

and her quarry.

The van was moving, heading for us. She glanced at it and seemed to make a decision. I readied for

an attack, but she did something I didn’t expect and couldn’t have prepared for. Reaching inside her

jacket, she pul ed out a ceramic disk not much bigger than a half-dol ar. It looked almost exactly like one

of the “boomers” I use, its spel released when the disk is smashed. As the van swung up beside her,

the side door open and beckoning, she threw the disk to the ground, shattering it. Her smile, as she

turned to jump into the vehicle, was pure predatory malice.

27

At first nothing happened. I didn’t feel any spel . I figured it must have been a dud, so I turned to help

the fal en prince. I was hefting him upward when I heard a hiss much like aerosol spraying from a can,

fol owed by soft male laughter that was purely sexual. It was the kind of laughter meant for dark nights

spent between silken sheets and just the sound of it tugged at things low in my body. I turned; I couldn’t

not.

He was beautiful. Not the twisted, frightening monster of my grandmother’s il ustrated Bible but a

perfect, heart-wrenchingly beautiful angel, with only the cant of his expression and the red tint in his

irises giving any hint of the corruption beneath.

A demon. I knew it, and the knowledge brought with it a fear that dried my mouth to cotton and had me

trembling with both terror and desire.

He gave a delicate sniff and laughed again. “Oh, my. A siren. I haven’t tasted siren in far too long.

And not a bit of faith to preserve you.” He smiled, taking a slow step forward, and my heart lurched in

my chest. “I’m going to enjoy this. I’l have to come up with a suitable reward for Lydia.”

I couldn’t take my eyes off him, but I could stil move my hands. Reaching into my jacket pocket, I

fumbled blindly for the switch to turn on my little sensor car, and was rewarded by it coming to

screeching, almost deafening life, red light from the alarm showing clearly even through the thick denim

fabric.

He scowled, and even that expression was as beautiful as a cloud passing across the sun. “I’m

disappointed in you. Do you really want us to be interrupted?”

“Hel , yeah.” I’d meant to sound defiant, but I could barely get a breath of sound past my lips. My

hands, though, were stil busy. This time I reached into the inside of my jacket, searching for the singleshot water pistol I knew was hidden there. I didn’t have much time. I knew that. His presence was

starting to overwhelm my wil . I couldn’t hurt him. Even if I’d wanted to. And God help me, I didn’t want

to.

He laughed again, and it sighed against my body, bringing a low moan from my lips and an ache to my

loins. Where was everybody? There had to be crews in the trucks and vans. Security should be al

over this.

“Oh, they’re coming,” he answered my thoughts. “But I’ve slowed time. I want to savor this. Savor

you. ”

Oh, shit.

I started trembling in earnest, and almost fumbled the little squirt gun I’d been drawing. Stil , I managed

to hang on to it, pul ing it out in a jerky motion, pul ing awkwardly at the refil plug with my left hand.

“Stop that!” he snarled, and it wasn’t beautiful. His voice and power lashed out at me, strong enough

to make me stumble, spil ing drops of the precious holy water onto the ground. But that was okay. I

wanted it on the ground. The whole idea was to draw a protective circle around the prince and me. I did

just that. As the demon blurred forward across that last bit of distance between us, he slammed hard

against an invisible barrier.

Hissing in frustrated pain and rage, he began pacing around the edge of the circle. “You shouldn’t

have done that, little one. It only bought you a minute or two at best. And when it comes down, I’m going

to make you suffer. ”

“You’d have done that anyway.” Now that the barrier was up I could think clearly, although that was a

mixed blessing. Because while I desperately needed to come up with some sort of a plan, knowing

exactly what I was facing had me just about wetting myself in terror.

“Yes,” he admitted, “but I would’ve let you enjoy it. At least at first. Now I’m not feeling so generous.”

I focused, trying to cal on my newly discovered talent. I really do need a rescue here. The cavalry,

an exorcist, a few militant priests, maybe accompanied by the National Guard?

An exorcist. Oh, crap. I tried to marshal my thoughts, to remember the words Reverend Al had used

successful y just last night. I couldn’t do it. I felt the power of my circle starting to fade and flicker. Saw

the anticipation in the demon’s eyes as he gathered himself to strike the moment it fel .

Pushing my thoughts as hard as I could, I sent out a mental plea, not knowing who, if anyone, would

hear. If there are any telepaths out there, anybody at all who knows the high church exorcism

prayer, please, please tell me now.

And in my mind I heard Kevin’s voice, joined by Bruno’s, Matteo’s, and others’, weak but stil clear,

chanting in perfect unison. I felt a surge of hope, powerful beyond reason. I repeated the words, not

even stumbling over the pronunciation.

The demon began to throw himself bodily against the barrier and the force threw me against the