Rachel Caine - Fall of Night

‘That’ll be fun.’ Jesse took Eve’s weight easily, even with her silver-wounded hand, and lowered her down, then released. Eve’s surprised cry echoed back up, followed by a breathless laugh.

‘All good,’ she called up. ‘Nice catch, handsome.’

‘Anything for you,’ Michael said. They may have even kissed. ‘Ready, who’s next?’

‘Claire,’ Shane said, and Myrnin nodded. She didn’t like it, but nobody looked like they were going to take no for an answer this time. She held out her hands, and Jesse took hold, winked at her and gave her a reassuring smile, and swung her out over nothing. Claire had a dizzying moment of terror, because even though she knew intellectually that Michael was down below her in the dark, ready to catch her, it didn’t much matter. Humans feared the dark, and they feared falling into it, and wow , it was scary.

Before Jesse could let go, Pete yelled, ‘Down!’ and Claire felt herself being swung away from the hole, thrown toward cover, and a lot of things happened all at once. A deafening, ear-shredding burst of gunfire in the enclosed space. Bright flashes. Yelling and screaming. Bodies moving against the bursts of light.

The only thing Claire could do was curl up and try to make herself small.

Shane fell on top of her, driving her breath away, but he wasn’t hurt, just shielding her from the chaos; she could feel the hot press of his breath against her neck. ‘Are you hit?’ he yelled, and she said no, but she wasn’t sure he could hear her.

A sudden, ominous silence fell. The smell of burnt metal and gunpowder was choking, and Claire coughed a little, even as she tried not to draw attention. Stay small, stay safe , her instincts were telling her. Don’t move .

And then Shane moved, rolling away and up to his feet, because Pete was shouting and tossing him something that Claire recognised seconds later as a large gun. Some kind of assault rifle, she guessed. Shane held it like he’d fired something like it before – and he probably had, knowing his dad’s paramilitary training – and fell in beside Pete. ‘Call out!’ he yelled. ‘Let me know you’re okay!’

‘Fine,’ Claire heard Oliver say. Then Jesse, in a clipped, tight way, affirming that she and Liz were both fine. Pete was all right. Claire said the same.

But Myrnin didn’t answer.

Claire found him lying still on the ground, eyes shut, and she thought she might have actually screamed; he was lying like Derrick, pale and still and bloodied, and the blood that was on his face dripped to the concrete.

Then he opened his eyes and said, in a small, annoyed voice, ‘Ouch. I haven’t had that happen in ages . I still don’t favour it.’ And a bullet literally pushed its way out of his forehead.

Claire fell to her knees. She watched the bullet tumble off the slope of his skin and hit the concrete in slow motion; it left a little splashed trail of blood as it went, until it made a loop and rolled to a stop against a wall. She saw it, but she didn’t exactly believe it … she’d seen vampires heal, but she’d never actually thought about bullets, and where they might have gone.

But they had to go somewhere, and that somewhere was out .

‘Glad it was you and not me,’ Shane said, and offered Myrnin a hand up. ‘Any brain damage?’

‘Since the bullet actually passed through his brain, then yes, idiot boy, there’s certainly brain damage,’ Oliver said. And sure enough, as Myrnin tried to rise, his left side didn’t function properly, and he stumbled and pitched into a drunken fall on the floor. Oliver sighed in annoyance and helped him rise, again, and this time held on as Myrnin staggered. One foot didn’t seem to be responding. ‘It will pass. And his brain’s the least fragile thing about him, in any case.’

‘You say the nicest things,’ Myrnin said. He was slurring his words, and he threw an arm around Oliver’s neck. ‘Marry me.’

‘Exactly what part of the brain did that bullet hit?’ Shane asked, hovering on the edge of manic laughter.

Oliver sighed. ‘He means carry me. And no. I won’t.’

Claire shook herself out of the strange fugue she seemed to be in, got up, and went to Pete, who was at the doorway. There were two dead men there. Both were wearing suits, and there were gold pins on their lapels – some kind of horizon, and a stylised sun rising over it. Pete was kneeling down with his eyes on the entrance while patting down the corpses – at least, Claire assumed they were corpses. They weren’t moving, and there was a hell of a lot of blood. Or, in vampire terms, wasted dinner. She supposed she ought to feel shocked about it, but these same two men had been intent on killing her, and Shane, and if Myrnin hadn’t been a vampire he’d have been lying just as dead.

She couldn’t work up much emotion at the moment.

‘Anything?’ she asked. Pete shook his head.

‘No ID,’ he said. ‘But I don’t think it matters right now. Two down, and four more still out there. Those aren’t bad odds, but the problem is that they have us exactly where they need us – we make any attempt to break out through the door, and they can just pick us off.’

‘Not the vamps,’ she said.

‘They’re not stupid. They know how to place a head shot; they did it on your friend back there. The vampires can’t get to them before a bullet in the brain takes them down, at least temporarily.’

‘But we’re not going out through the door – are we?’

‘No. But somebody has to stay and make sure they stay out until we’re clear.’ Pete gave her a brief, funny smile, and she was struck all of a sudden by how oddly cute he was. ‘Odds are it isn’t going to be one of the vampires. They like to leave humans for that kind of time-buying exercise.’

‘Not true,’ Jesse said. Claire didn’t know where she’d come from, but suddenly she was there, standing next to Pete. It was gratifying that Pete evidently hadn’t seen her coming either; he flinched the way Claire knew she had about a thousand times, out of sheer surprise. He sent Jesse an exasperated look. She recognised that, too. ‘I’ll take the last train out, Pete. You go and help get everyone else to safety.’

‘Jesse—’

‘Just go,’ she said. ‘And give me the gun. I can shoot, you know. I learnt when firearms were still as simple as powder and shot, and I’ve certainly survived far worse people than these.’ She sounded utterly sure of it, as calm as if she was discussing a simple stroll in the park. If she took strolls with an assault rifle. She turned to face the door, and raised the gun and placed four quick, competent shots. ‘There. That’ll give them something to think about for a bit.’

Pete pushed Claire back toward the hole, where Shane was urgently gesturing; Myrnin was already gone, dropped down for Michael to catch, she assumed. Oliver was lowering Elizabeth down. ‘Careful with this one,’ he called to Michael. ‘Don’t want her bleeding out. We might need her later.’ That sounded … less than altruistic, although Claire hoped Liz didn’t catch the reference.

She didn’t seem to. She was so woozy she didn’t even scream as she was dropped, or as she was caught.

And then it was between Shane and Claire. ‘You first,’ he said.

‘Why?’

Shane and Pete exchanged looks. ‘Seriously?’ Pete asked.

‘Yeah, she’s like that.’ Shane turned to her. ‘Because you’re my girlfriend, and I’m not going until you’re safe. How’s that?’

‘Good enough,’ she said, and then Oliver was holding her and dangling her like tasty bait over the abyss …

… And she was falling

She somehow managed not to scream, though every instinct told her to; it seemed to take forever, but then she was landing in a strong pair of arms that cushioned her, expertly adjusted her weight, and settled her on her feet as neatly as if she’d just floated to a graceful stop. ‘Shane!’ Michael said. ‘Jump!’