Rob Thurman - Deathwish

“First off, there is no such thing as a nice normal bomb. There are bombs dropped from planes. There are missiles. Trucks filled with fertilizer and diesel fuel. And there are multiple charges placed around a building to detonate it. None of which fill our need. Besides, I thought the mere idea of a nuclear weapon would make you happier than the porn you hide under your bed. It certainly puts your Desert Eagle in the shade,” he replied, a wickedly amused glitter in his eye while his face remained passive.

Despite my love for my Eagle and various other weapons of semiexplosive destruction, I wasn’t, believe it or not, turned on by the thought of a nuke. “There has to be something. We brought down the last warehouse without a stick of dynamite.”

“That’s because then you were the bomb.”

Not much you could say to that.

“Well, what the hell were you asking for when you called Samuel?” I asked, sitting on the fold-out couch that sagged a good half foot in the middle cushion. I didn’t think Robin had tried as hard as he said he had. I doubted he appreciated those days and days of celibacy.

“I thought since the Vigil has contacts within the police and city government, they would most likely have agents within the military as well. Thousands of years of conspiracy does give one maneuvering room for job placement. And the military has weapons, including explosive devices, that the public know nothing about.”

“Seems complex.” I grunted. “There are bombs out there that should wipe out anything the size of a couple of football fields that you don’t need a truck to haul around. I’ve seen them.”

“There are?” Niko asked as he leaned against the cracked wall. It held his weight, surprisingly. It looked like a forty-pound five-year-old could take it down. “Where did you see them?”

“You know, TV, movies. Mission: Impossible wouldn’t lie.”

He closed his eyes. “I tried, Almighty Universe. I did my best.” Straightening, he went on, “Since the Auphe move so quickly, we need a large area of destruction, and since you cannot build a gate big enough to drive a truck through, the Vigil suggested a suitcase nuke as being the most appropriate for the task.”

“The Vigil trust us with a nuke? Even a baby nuke?” I asked skeptically. A nuke? The Vigil had a nuke? They did have a finger in every pie, pretty scary pies.

“Probably not, but Samuel does. He’s seen what we would do to keep the Auphe from taking the world back. I didn’t say what their plan was this time.” He wouldn’t. Niko wouldn’t tell anyone that. “But that they had one and they had to be dealt with. Now. He convinced his superiors that whether our plan worked or not, we would make sure that the city would be safe. We’d die to keep that promise.”

“Dying’s the easy part,” I muttered. As plans went, it was like most of mine—semisuicidal—but even I hadn’t come up with the damn nuke. And the Vigil knew the Auphe. They knew that even eighteen could one day, no matter how many hundreds or thousands of years it took them, take back what they thought was theirs. They still must have trusted the hell out of Samuel . . . and Niko. If they knew anything about the supernatural community, if they had investigated Nik, they knew he would keep his word. NYC would be safe.

When they’d investigated me, and I’m sure they had, they must’ve thought it was a good thing they had Nik to fall back on. I was one of those guys who didn’t look too good on paper, or while being possessed, or creating mass chaos going undercover in the Kin.

Or being the last male Auphe. Good thing they didn’t know about that. Even if a human male would do, just not as well, I was sure the Vigil would think long and hard about popping one in the back of my skull to be on the safe side and try to deal with the Auphe another way.

But there was no other way.

I didn’t want to think about this anymore, the pressure of not taking out NYC with me if I bit the dust. Thinking about if we did pull it off, I still might not be coming back—the rational part of me anyway. Really, really didn’t want to think about it. I rested my head and stared at the ceiling. A nuke. Goddamn spy movies. And why did our government have suitcase nukes? Weren’t only terrorists supposed to have them?

“How many followed you?” Great, a subject worse than nukes.

“Three.” I looked back down at Niko, my ass already complaining from the couch. I didn’t think it’d be any more comfortable when we folded it out, but it didn’t much matter. Sleep was going to be hard to come by until this was over anyway.

“Three,” he repeated grimly before adding, “fifteen more to go.”

I got up to check out the bathroom, because the thought of eighteen Auphe in one place—that’ll make your bladder sit up and take notice. “Shit!” I called out. “Is there such a thing as a giant supernatural cockroach straight from the depths of hell?”

“No. Be a man and deal with it.”

I could’ve shot it. It was that big. I kicked it in the toilet and flushed. Three times. Then I returned to Cat Urine Central. “Okay. The world is safe for pissing again. Enjoy.”

“And to think I worried about you today, being alone.” Niko drew his katana and looked it over. “Almost.”

I snorted. “I think I feel a tear coming on.”

He turned the katana over and laid it on the back of his hand. It balanced perfectly. “You are sentimental, I will give you that.” He sheathed the sword. “Your plan or not, you’re coming back, Cal. All of you. I won’t have it any other way.” I’d made it clear I wasn’t too damn sure about that, and it showed. I could hide a lot of things, but not that.

But what the hell? Sanity was overrated. What had it ever done for me anyway?

“I’m sentimental. You’re optimistic.” I dropped back on the couch. “Watch out, Snow White. There’s two new dwarves in town.”

He wasn’t distracted. “Are you ready for this?”

“I’ve been ready a long, long time.”

And I had been.

Before I was born. When I was nothing but a pile of gold in a whore’s hand, I’d been ready.

Waiting, like timing, can be a bitch.

I’d hoped it would be the first night. I wanted it over with, and I wanted it over with now. Of course it wasn’t. The next night, I felt five outside. My stomach tensed, I carried my gun with me the entire night, and didn’t sleep one minute of it. Five could be enough. Five might do the trick for Niko and me. But they’d tried four times before. Two times playing, two times in sincerity . . . although it was a mocking sincerity. I didn’t think there would be any mocking this time. I thought they were coming for Nik, coming for me, and game time was over.

The third time is the charm. Isn’t that what they say? It didn’t feel like a charm, but it felt like a chance, and that was the best we could hope for.

I’d been dozing on the couch off and on that night. Staying awake three nights in a row turned out not to be doable, but the feeling brought me out of the drowse instantly. Eighteen. Eighteen of the bitches were out there, and they weren’t going to stay out there long. All they needed was the time to catch a glimpse through the window, to see where they were going, and they’d be there. That’s why we kept the small window covered with a blanket, and it was the only thing that gave us the time we needed.

“Nik, now .” I bolted off the couch fully dressed, shoes on. It was the way we’d catnapped for the past days now.

I hit the door running, Niko right behind me. We were on the street in seconds and in a cab in minutes. We moved fairly briskly through the nighttime traffic and were at the warehouse district in less than a half hour. Delilah had given us the address—long abandoned by humans or Kin, and abandoned was what we needed. It was a hulk of a building with windows.