Laurell Hamilton - Affliction

I peeled off to the right for Nicky and Lisandro. I didn’t have to tap Edward; we were aware of each other in combat the way you knew your partner on the dance floor. I did the shuffling, bent-legged walk that I’d learned with SWAT. My light showed a wall of zombies snarling and reaching. The snarling was the clue that these were flesh eaters; regular zombies were a lot deader. Three of them were headless already. Lisandro was a quick study: take out the mouth and they can’t bite, take the arms and they can’t grapple, take the legs and they can’t move. We weren’t going to stay here long enough to do it all like we had in the hospital, but Nicky was showing him the combat math of a zombie apocalypse, and Lisandro was learning it.

The three of us worked back toward the stairs, shooting zombies as we moved. Their heads exploded nicely, but they still kept coming, relentless as only the dead can be. We backed up until we touched shoulders with Edward. He and Hatfield were still firing with their rifles. Seamus was down to a handgun; something was wrong with his right arm, but I didn’t have time to see what. We formed a half-circle around the stairs and sent Seamus and Hatfield up first. Sending the wounded and the rookie up first made sense, but I didn’t want to go next, and Lisandro and Nicky wouldn’t go either.

Edward yelled, ‘Anita, go!’

I cursed, but I went, and there was no way to help them shoot zombies once I was in the covered area of the stairs; I had to go up and trust that they’d come after me.

I heard Hatfield scream, ‘Blake!’

Shit, what now? I thought, and ran up the last steps into the small bedroom. They weren’t there, so I ran out into the living room beyond, AR to my shoulder scanning for what had made her scream. Hatfield knelt on the far side of Seamus with a bare pillow in one hand and its pillow slip in the other. Seamus lay in the middle of the floor beside the bentwood rocking chair. There was already a pool of blood expanding out from the nice hooked rug, spreading dark and thick across the scrubbed wooden floor. His arm was a bloody mess where the zombie had torn at it with that more-than-human strength and the all-too-human teeth.

‘Tourniquet him,’ I told Hatfield, and turned to go back to Edward and the others.

‘He won’t let me touch him.’

‘A cut on her hand and my blood could bring her over,’ Seamus said.

I’d totally forgotten that, my bad. ‘He’s right. Hatfield, cover their retreat.’

She handed me the pillow slip. I let the AR hang by its strap and took it as she went for the bedroom. I turned to the big man on the floor. His skin was dark enough that the blood didn’t show as clearly, but the torn muscle and bone glistened surrounded by the darkness of his skin like some macabre art piece. So much of violence is both beautiful and horrible.

‘Shapeshift; it will heal at least part of the damage,’ I said.

‘I dare not,’ he said.

I didn’t ask why he dared not; I’d stop the bleeding and then play twenty questions, so I knelt above his head, out of the pool of blood. I wrapped the pillow slip around his arm and started looking around for a tool to help fasten the tourniquet.

‘You’re faster than this. How did you let it hurt you this badly?’ I asked.

‘I don’t know,’ he said.

I got up and went to the rocking chair. It was the only thing I saw in the room that might do what we needed. I tore one of the smaller curls of wood out of place. It came away with a sharp crack. Edward and the others were still shooting in the other room. Until we burned the zombies, they’d keep coming. Zombies didn’t like daylight, but it wouldn’t stop them with food – us – this close.

I wrapped the piece of wood in the pillow slip and tightened it until the blood stopped spurting out. ‘Hold it tight. I’ll call for an ambulance.’ I wiped my bloodstained hands on my pants and fished my phone out of the pocket it rode in.

Seamus held the tourniquet tight but said, ‘Don’t call.’

‘You’re not dying,’ I said.

‘I can feel him inside me. He’s telling me to change form. He wants me to kill you. That’s why I don’t dare shift to heal the damage.’

I stared at him with the phone half-dialed in my hand. ‘Who wants it?’ I asked, but I knew.

‘He does – the vampire. It was a zombie that bit me, but somehow it was him, Anita. Somehow the vampire was using the zombie’s body just like the Traveller and the Dark Mother used vampires. He bit me, do you understand, Anita?’

‘I understand,’ I said, and put my phone back in its pocket.

‘I am Harlequin, and I am bound to my master. It helps me fight the compulsion, but I do not know if I will win this battle.’

I drew in a deep breath and let it out slow. I didn’t feel anything. I was numb, as if I’d been numb for a while and just hadn’t known it.

‘The compulsion is that strong?’ I asked.

‘It should not be. I am fully bonded to my master. I should be proof against all vampires except for my master. The only one who could tamper with such bonds was the Dark Mother, and she is gone.’

‘Yeah,’ I said.

‘This master should not be this strong; no wonder Ares fell to him.’

‘What do you want me to do?’ I asked.

‘If you kill me, then my master may die and never wake, but you cannot allow me to shift forms. If I do that, then you must kill me, because there is something in this power that wants me to kill things, not just you, but everything. He likes death, Anita, in all its forms.’

‘Does the vampire have a name?’ I asked.

‘He does not tell me. I am an animal and he does not owe me his name,’ Seamus said, and shuddered, his eyes fluttering closed.

‘Is that your thought, or his?’ I asked.

‘Both.’

‘You are not an animal,’ I said, ‘and he does owe you his name.’

Seamus smiled at me. ‘I like your modern ideals, but it is too late for me to enjoy them.’

‘No,’ I said. I touched his arm, bare skin to bare skin, and a flash of warmth passed between us. I could feel his beast, could see it behind my eyes where dreams show themselves. The werehyena looked up at me, and I felt something stir inside me that was new. I had a new beast.

Seamus’s brown hyena eyes stared up at me. ‘You cannot be one of us.’

‘A bullet went through Ares’ body and into mine. I didn’t think it would be enough.’

‘His call is softer now,’ Seamus said.

‘Just from my touching your arm?’ I asked.

‘Yes.’

I wanted to call out to Edward, because I wanted someone to be able to shoot Seamus if it needed doing, but I wanted to keep touching him, and if he went apeshit I didn’t want to be this close to him while I was trying to shoot him. Out of reach would be really good. But I didn’t want to distract Edward in case he needed all his concentration to stay away from the zombies that were probably trying to climb up the stairs and into the bedroom. I did the only thing could; I kept my left hand on his arm and drew the Browning with my right.

Seamus looked at the gun and then back at my face. ‘Shoot me if you have to.’

I just nodded. I had every intention of it. I’d failed Ares by not shooting him sooner. I wouldn’t fail again, not like that.

Someone called out, ‘Police, hello in the house!’

I called back, ‘Living room!’

Deputy Al walked in from the kitchen. The smile on his face changed when he saw us. ‘What happened?’

‘Zombies in the basement,’ I said. More shots sounded, as if to make the point.

He drew his sidearm. He looked in the direction of the shots and then back to us. ‘He’s another shifter, isn’t he?’

‘Yeah,’ I said.