Cat Adams - Demon Song

Marco was licking his lips and drooling all over the ground. “I’ve heard siren blood is like nothing else. Never had the chance to test that rumor.”

I took another step back and my heel caught the edge of a discarded bottle. I lost my balance for one brief moment and the air blurred as they descended. My arms were pulled nearly out of their sockets and my knives disappeared. Where Edgar smelled of expensive cologne and mouthwash, Marco smelled of sweat and leather. They were on either side of me, close enough that one strike would end it.

Edgar’s face moved forward like lightning and I braced myself, waiting for the pain. But it didn’t happen. Instead, I heard his voice in my ear like velvet over steel. “What will you give up for your life, Celia Graves? I can put a stop to this right now.”

I didn’t want to answer, but I heard my own voice, breathy with fear: “What do you want?”

“Kill her,” Marco hissed. I ignored him. Edgar was the one with all the chips at the table.

“I want the artifact. If you swear you’ll bring it to me, I’ll end this and make your favorite café nice place for tourists again. If not, then I bring you over and you’ll still bring me the artifact. Except you’ll be just like me—preying on friends, clients, and your saintly old grandmother for your next meal. And this time, I will be your master.”

That set my blood boiling and I pulled away from the young vamps holding my arms. My muscles screamed in agony, but I put the pain aside. Unfortunately, I hadn’t a clue what Edgar was talking about. The only artifact I had in my possession was an ancient divination tool called a Wadjeti that had been given to me by … well, crap. It had been given to me by Eirene and Stefania. If Edgar wanted that, there had to be more to it than I’d thought.

Marco leapt backward when I crouched to fight, but Edgar held his ground and laughed. “You’re definitely a fiery one. But you’ll lose. You can’t win with these odds.”

“She can with a little help!” The male voice had a heavy Mexican accent and was followed by the sharp retort of a shotgun. One of the fledglings caught the blast full in the face. Whatever was in the rounds caused him to scream and race into the darkness before falling to lie still and silent at the edge of the next circle of light.

Pablo carried a double-barrel shotgun, but Marco floated into the air with confidence. “I’ll take care of the little man. You handle the girl.”

“Chicken!” I taunted him, not sure what I could do to help my friend. Then I realized he didn’t need help. Barbara stepped out of the restaurant behind him, also carrying a shotgun, followed by Juan, their oldest son—who looked serious and competent as he jacked a round into the chamber of his pump-action weapon.

Nearby, two more shop doors opened and more shotguns appeared. A trigger was pulled. The young vamp to my right tried to dodge, but his chest exploded and he screamed as liquid fire burned through him. Then the one on my left was hit. I picked up one of the pellets that bounced on the ground and squished it between my fingers. I’ll be damned. I didn’t know they were putting holy water into pellets. It was like a high-powered paintball. Probably wouldn’t kill a regular human, just bruise. But a vamp? Instant agony.

The third new-turn had enough sense to turn on his heel and run. Marco wasn’t so easily dismissed. He descended on Pablo like an eagle, long duster flaring behind him like a cape, fangs as sharp as talons. Without even thinking, I pushed Edgar out of the way and raced forward, knocking Marco out of the air before he could collide with my friend. Juan and Barbara started taking potshots at Edgar. He must have realized he’d lost the upper hand, but he took a flying leap and landed on top of me. My face planted into the asphalt, chin first, as Edgar grabbed Marco with one hand and soared into the sky.

Edgar paused to give me a parting comment, just out of reach of the rounds of holy water blasting out of shotguns from nearly every window on the block: “This isn’t over, Celia. My offer stands. You can’t stay awake forever and I know where you live.”

I was bleeding from nose and mouth as Barbara rushed over to help me up. People were collecting the bodies of the two boys who were from the neighborhood. The people’s faces showed mingled pride and sorrow as they cut a branch from a nearby tree and sharpened the wood into a stake. The vamp with his face shot off was still alive enough to thrash under strong arms as the stake was driven into his heart. A wailing woman in the background was held back as three men struggled to put him down. Then he was still and the woman—probably his mother—was allowed forward to cry over the son she’d actually lost many nights before.

“Celia,” Barbara admonished with both fear and cracking pride in her voice, “I told you he was a bad one. But did you listen?” She dusted off my clothes while handing me her dish towel to mop the blood from my face. I heard a sniffle and looked down to see her eyes wet with tears. “No, you didn’t. And it was a very brave thing. It made everyone feel ashamed that we hadn’t stood up to them earlier.”

That hadn’t been my intent, but I was glad it worked out. Damn, but my mouth hurt. I didn’t think my nose was broken, but I definitely needed to see what my mouth looked like. “Bafrom?” I asked with a mouthful of cotton, and pointed to the open doorway. She let out a surprised sound and hurried me into the building. We were followed by a dozen other people, cheering and shouting my name like I was a conquering hero.

Except the hero isn’t the one who’s supposed to need saving . I felt like a complete idiot. I’d taken the enemy for granted and barely scraped out by the skin of my teeth.

Speaking of my teeth … I turned on the light in the ladies’ room and worriedly held back my lips. My bottom lip was cut in two places where my fangs had dug in. That accounted for the blood. But my two front teeth and one fang were loose. I could wiggle them and it hurt when I did. I didn’t know what would happen if I broke a fang. It was probably worth asking someone about. I was definitely going to have a fat lip in a few minutes. I hoped it wouldn’t last too long.

When I exited the bathroom, cheers went up a second time. Barbara and Pablo bustled forward and guided me to a chair. My knives were on the table and I gratefully put them back in their sheaths. I really didn’t want Edgar to get his hands on them.

The sumptuous scent of cumin, chili powder, and onions rose in the steam from a shake glass. Yum. A sunset smoothie. Just like Mama never made. I put the straw between my lips and … ow! Okay, sucking was a bad plan. Who knew it required uninjured teeth? So, while everyone stared at me, I drank down the shake like it was a tall glass of milk. I’d lost blood, so I wasn’t going to cringe about the contents.

It was good enough that I ordered a second. At least two adventurous people ordered one as well. Who knew? It might be the next hot thing in the restaurant if the surprised but delighted expressions of the others were any indication.

By the time I left an hour later, my purse still the same weight as when I arrived due to Pablo insisting my food was on the house, I was full but exhausted beyond all reason. Edgar and Marco were still out there, waiting for me to be alone. There was only one place where I’d feel safe, and it was the same place I’d woken up this morning.

After I changed all the alarm codes and locks, of course.

The night was about to get even longer.

9

I woketo the wailing of the front-door alarm. I’d like to say I leapt to my feet, ready for action. But in reality it was more a case of rolling off the couch to land in a heap on the floor while rubbing the crust of sleep from my eyes. Still, I made it to the door before more than a few seconds passed and bolted out into the hallway, my Colt steady in front of me, watching for threats.