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that the biggest was a fake, that the Colonel was there,
waiting for him to fuck up. He crashed through, standing on
the brake as a shitload of itchy damned canvas came down on
his ass. Hello, boys.
The scene degenerated into mass chaos. Men were
shouting, running everywhere. Bullets rained toward him, but
as he moved into the mess that was left of the tent, they
tapered off. No one wanted to hit the Colonel. Him, on the
other hand, he wanted it, bad. He waded through chaos,
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tearing and growling, the scent of fury and fear sudden and
strong, almost delicious.
"Goddamn it, are you all worthless? Get him!" The good
colonel was scrambling back, face bloodied, the scent of
copper coming off him just maddening.
"You wanted me something awful before, Boss? Why not
now?" A bullet hit him in the chest, the fire and tear fucking
familiar now, making him stumble a bit. "Have to. Have to try
harder, man."
Fuck, he hoped Clay had Remy.
Another bullet hit him, making him grunt, making him
remember what Clay had said. "When in doubt, baby, grab
someone and feed like a motherfucker."
Yeah. Yeah, Clay. He lurched forward, teeth bared,
intending to rip that motherfucker's throat out. He barely saw
the flash of metal, but he felt the gush of liquid heat on his
stomach. The Colonel grinned at him. "I might not be able to
kill you, monster, but I can leave you to the sun."
"Shit, man. Whatever you did to me, whatever you filled
me with. I ain't ... I ain't the fucking monster."
"No, son. You're exactly what you've always been." The
rheumy eyes stared out at him, cold and all lizard-brain.
"Bait."
Vance went down to his knees, eyes rolling a little. "Yeah.
Yeah. You didn't think. Didn't think I'd bring the monster
home, though..."
His hand wrapped around a tent pole, fingers gripping it
hard. Just a little bit closer.
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"There are always mistakes in the beginning of a war,
son."
"Yeah." Fuck, shit was getting gray around the edges, his
jeans soaked through. They were running out of fucking time
here. Get to the hearse, Clay. Y'all get there. I'll follow.
If he could.
The Colonel threw his head back to holler for
reinforcements and Vance staggered to his feet, blinking over
at the gray blob. "Time to finish this up, Boss. Time to write
my big check."
The tent pole slid, nice and easy, catching the Colonel in
the shoulder and pinning his fat ass to the ground. Vance
stood a second, staring down, swaying. "You were right, Boss.
I'm nothing but bait. Here kitty, kitty."
He turned to run, meeting a line of wide-eyed jackasses in
fatigues, rifles in hand. He grinned, hand sliding down into his
wet jeans to where the detonator was.
"I tell you, guys. Things are fixing to get incredibly fun."
He hit the button, hoping to Hell he could run far enough
that the explosion didn't tear him in two.
He wasn't sure there was enough blood to fix that.
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Chapter Thirty Three
Clay ran, getting his bearings, zig-zagging to avoid getting
shot down. The damned bonfires made him feel like a sitting
duck, made him feel like he had a giant finger sign pointing
right at him.
He listened for Remy, tried hard to get a bearing on his
little Cajun, but the man just wasn't there. Oh, he was alive,
but there wasn't a hint of a mental connection. Damn it.
Switching tactics, he went on vamp instinct, trying to figure
out where Gryphon might have holed up for a day or so.
That gave him more love. Not only did he see a big
warehouse type building that hadn't been torn to pieces like
the others, but was more ... slumped in. He caught a whisper
of something. Someone. Another vampire. Like a spidey
sense or something.
It wasn't Vance. He couldn't think about Vance. Not now.
He moved in, legs churning, and as soon as he came
through the big double door, it was like an eerie quiet
descended. No one was shooting at him now.
"Remy! Remy, goddamn it. Are you in here?"
"Boss! Boss, you gotta get the door open! We're stuck!"
Oh, fuck, yes.
He knew now, he could hear Remy's heartbeat. Gryph
must be keeping Remy strong if he couldn't get the man out.
Racing up the little loft, he started digging into the damned
fallout, trying to get them out fast. They were working with
him, scrabbling, tugging sounds coming through. Come on.
Come on, boys.
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There. An opening. Hot damn. Clay dug at it, blood
running off his fingers. They needed to go. Needed to. He
could feel Vance screaming.
Remy's face appeared, looking buzzed as fuck. "Boss. Hey.
You found me."
"Hey, babe." Oh, fuck, it was good to see Remy. He
yanked down the rest of the debris, pulling that little rangy
body into his arms.
Remy hugged him tight, just vibrating, filled with energy.
"Gotta get Douce, now. He's been good to me."
"Don't worry, babe. I won't leave him behind." He took a
kiss, tasting Gryphon on Remy's lips. Surprisingly, there was
no rage. Just acceptance. "Let me get your man."
Gryphon reached for him just as a wave of worry hit him,
the edges of regret making him panic. He could hear Vance.
Get to the hearse. Run. Run. Run.
"Shit. Time to go. Come on, man, come on. You can have
a snack on the way out."
Gryph nodded and shot out of that damned hole,
staggering like a drunk, but upright. The explosion knocked
them all to their knees, the trees catching flame, the ground
shaking with it.
"Fuck. Fuck. Boss. What the fuck'd you do?"
"Come on. We got to get to the car." Jesus, that crazy
fucking man. He was alive. Clay knew he was. Well. Vance
was a vamp. But still.
"Boo? Boo's in there?" Remy just stared at him, swaying
on hands and knees.
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"He'll be with us when we go, Rem. Come on." Gryph
couldn't lift Remy, so Clay did it, slinging that small form over
his shoulders and clambering down.
Gryphon took the lead, attacking a man and drinking him
dry, moving stronger, heading for the hearse. That was it.
That was what Vance needed to do. Feed, baby, he thought.
Come back to me. Remy clung to him, and he knew he had to
keep going out, not in. It was the hardest fucking thing he'd
ever done.
The flames licked at them as they ran, so fucking hot his
skin felt like it was crackling. Bacon. He was gonna burn up
like bacon. Then they shot out of the fire, the cool night air
shocking, making him shiver. "Rem! You burnt?"
Remy was silent, just still as shit on his shoulder.
Fuck. Fuck, fuck, fuck. He stopped just short of the hearse,
easing Remy to the ground, desperately checking for a pulse.
It was there, thready and weak, but there. Shit. Shit.
Before he even thought about it, he'd opened a vein, fixing
to press it to Remy's lips. Just about the time he did, though,
he heard a growl, a heavy body knocking him aside.
"No. Go find yours. I will take care of mine." Gryph's eyes
glowed in the dark a moment before he turned to Remy,
lifting the limp body up.
He could feel Vance, like a fading heartbeat, coming for
him. Stubborn fuck. Beautiful stubborn fuck. Clay went to
meet him halfway, knowing Remy was in good hands, that
Gryphon would get the man out if they didn't come back.
Feed. He and Vance both needed to fucking feed.
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Those bright fucking eyes met his, dead serious. "It went
kaboom in ... in a glorious way, man."
"Did you get him, baby?" Grabbing Vance as he staggered,
Clay held them both up, feeling slick blood on his hands, on
his chest. Fuck. Come on, come on.
"You fucking know it. They'll be counting teeth for weeks."
"Fucking A. Come on, honey. Let's find us someone to
snack on and hit the road." Yeah. They just needed a little ...
There. Someone was still fucking standing.
Vance stumbled, head hitting his shoulder good and hard.
Love. He heard it, clear as a bell. He dragged Vance the last
few feet, pushing him at the man who was just struggling to
get away; the poor fuck was going fast, though. "Drink, baby. [ Pobierz całość w formacie PDF ]