Jeanne Stein - Retribution

Her head droops. Her eyes are closed but her chest labors as she struggles to breathe. Is she drugged?

“Williams, what are you doing?”

He pulls a bloody knife from a scabbard at his waist. “Exacting justice.”

“This isn’t justice. It’s not Sophie’s fault Ortiz is dead.”

“No. It isn’t, is it? It’s Burke’s.”

His eyes flick to Sophie. “She won’t tell me how to find her. I tried the beast. I tried the human. She refuses to show me the way.”

“The way?”

A nod. “The others at the park said there’s a conduit between the earthly plane and the ethereal one. They couldn’t locate Burke on earth. To traverse into the higher plane, they said it would take blood. Familial blood.” He points downward with the knife. Near his feet is a small crystal bowl filled with blood. “I’m going to take the blood to them. Let them send me to the other world. First, I’ll finish what you stopped me from doing yesterday.”

The beast is contained. Williams isn’t letting the vampire surface either mentally or physically. He wants to do this as a human. He wants not only to collect Sophie’s blood for the spell but to watch her die.

It’s a side of him I’ve never seen before.

“Williams, listen to me. Sophie is human. You’ve been a cop. You know it’s wrong to kill her. You have what you need. Take it to the park. I’ll go with you if you want. We’ll go after Burke together.”

Deveraux stirs in Sophie’s consciousness. What are you waiting for? Kill the bastard. He’s crazy. Don’t you see that?

But it’s not insanity I see in Williams’ eyes. It’s pain.

Pain I understand. Pain I felt every moment for the last three days. Pain that would have become unbearable had I lost Culebra and Frey the way Williams lost Ortiz.

I take a step toward him, hands outstretched. “I promise. Let Sophie go and we’ll go after Burke. Together.”

If I unleashed my own beast, force him to give me the knife, would he respond?

“Don’t.”

His eyes are penetrating. He seems able to read my intentions as easily as he can my thoughts.

“Do you want to know why her vampires were different?”

I don’t know whether to be encouraged by or wary of the change of subject, but I nod.

“The serum in those syringes. The serum she had her lapdog Jason inject into those girls. It turned them into genetic freaks —made their blood simulate vampire blood but gave them nothing of vampire strength or power to protect them. They were vampire only for what they could provide for her business. And once they had been drained, their shells were tossed like garbage. Jason alone was different and even he was tricked in the end. He was a throwback to the beginning, created by magic, destroyed by sunlight. Weak. Pathetic. Stupid.”

For the first time I see Williams as vulnerable. I am as outraged as he is by what Burke did. But it was Belinda Burke, not Sophie. As a vampire, I could rip his human throat out in ten seconds if he refused to meet beast with beast. But would I?

Yes, to save Sophie. I center myself.

Williams watches me.

“I can’t you let hurt Sophie. You know that. You’re grieving for Ortiz. I understand. I want revenge, too. But against Burke. Sophie fulfilled her part of the bargain. She broke Burke’s curse. It’s what I asked of her.”

“It’s not what I asked of her.” Williams’ voice thunders in the closed space. “I never agreed to let her go.”

A low moan escapes Sophie’s lips. The sound spurs Williams into action. He whirls around with a snarl, the bloody knife poised.

It’s all it takes to loose the vampire. I don’t try to hold it back; there isn’t time. When I lunge at Williams, it’s with full force. He flies back, twenty feet, to land in a pile of scrap.

I brace myself, ready to intercept the charge, every nerve in my body poised for the fight. This battle has been a long time coming.

Williams doesn’t leap up. Doesn’t yell or threaten. Doesn’t move.

I take a step closer, fangs extended, growling a warning.

There’s no response.

Is this a trick?

I morph back from vampire to human so I can better understand.

What I see is a human, eyes open, a slender spear of rebar piercing the center of his chest. As I watch, those eyes focus on me, then cloud over. His body writhes against the spike impaling him.

Williams never unleashed his beast.

He’s not dead, Deveraux screams. Get us out of here.

I know he’s right. If Williams were dead, if the spear had been wooden instead of iron, we’d be looking at a pile of ash.

Human instinct makes me want to help him. Animal instinct says I need to get Sophie to safety before he can do any more harm.

Is she drugged? I ask Deveraux, loosening the ropes at Sophie’s wrists and ankles. When I pull them free, she sags against me.

He gave her something in a cup of coffee. I never saw it coming.

But you’re not affected?

Came to before she did. I guess it’s a good thing. He was going to burn her. I read it in his head.

I read it, too. It’s what makes me want to get her out of here before he pulls himself free. He’s no immediate threat. Even as a vampire, he’ll take time to heal. When the beast emerges, though, it won’t be pretty. I want to be gone.

I look back at the tunnel, wonder how I’ll get her out. Then I look up. The staircase is gone, but the landing one floor above is intact.

This may be how Williams got Sophie here.

I scoop Sophie into my arms. She seems small and slight and utterly defenseless. Her vulnerability chases any inclination to help Williams right out of my head.

But before I carry her to safety, I do one more thing. I take the crystal bowl and fit it between her crossed arms.

Williams was right about one thing. Burke needs to die.

I flex my legs slightly, gather strength, leap upward.

I land squarely on both feet. The hall is dark and empty and smells of melted rubber and burned tile. The employee lounge? The twisted shells of their lockers and the remains of a refrigerator confirm. When I was here the first time, this wouldn’t have led me to the front door.

Now, with two floors compressed, I see light at the end of the hallway.

I carry Sophie toward it.

AS SOON AS WE GET TO THE COTTAGE, I CARRY SOPHIE upstairs to the guest room and lower her onto the bed. She’s still out, so I take a minute to shed my ruined clothes and pull on a T-shirt. The cuts on my back are already healed.

Sophie still hasn’t come to. I figure she’s in shock. She would be—from loss of blood if not from the terror of Williams’ torture. Her pupils, when I check, are fixed and dilated. I gently loosen the torn fabric of her clothing so I can examine the wound.

She moans slightly as dried blood binds with the fabric. Despite my care, the cut reopens. It runs in a straight line from the neck of her shirt to her navel. Fresh blood oozes over my fingers.

I take a wet cloth and sponge the wound. It’s about half an inch deep, eighteen inches long. Williams made the cut in one motion. Any deeper and he would have disembow eled her.

I swallow hard, appalled.

She needs stitches, I tell Deveraux. I’d better take her to a hospital.

Aren’t you forgetting? You can heal her.

She’s lost a lot of blood. And she’s a witch. I don’t know if it will work.

She’s human. You healed David.

How did he know that? I sit back a minute, looking down at the girl but seeing something entirely different. A vampire. As real in his way as the girl. If she dies, you do, too.