checked her silver dagger. The knife was specially made, modeled after the F-S Fighting Knife once carried by US Marines. She never left the house without it and trained with it regularly. Once she verified her bracelet and pocket pouch were stocked with spells, potions, and extra ammo, Ari hit the streets.
She made a fast call to Ryan. This wasn’t his fight yet, but it would be if humans got in harm’s way. He agreed to have his officers step up neighborhood patrols and notify Ari if anyone sighted the suspect. Given the vampire’s size, he should be easy to spot.
Ari made the usual evening rounds, stopping in pubs frequented by vamps and a wine cellar owned and operated by wee folks, the unofficial town criers for Olde Town. Word of the fight was spreading, but slowly. Probably because it happened on the eastside. A quick sweep of Goshen Park turned up nothing. Ari backtracked to canvas more of the vampire strip. No rampaging vamp. No Canadian wolves. She listened for gossip about illegal magic or drug use but didn’t hear anything on that either.
It was after one in the morning. Ari was on her second trip through the vampire bar district when she heard the screams and sirens. She sprinted toward the commotion coming from the Second Chance Saloon, a dive that catered to members from the roughest vampire nests. She arrived as Ryan’s police cruiser squealed to a stop.
Yelling and shrieking, pushing and trampling over each other, panicked humans and Otherworlders jammed the bar’s parking lot. Adding to the confusion, a crowd continued to pour out the pub doors. Ari jumped in the bed of a parked truck to see over the crowd. A solid mass of watchers encircled two male vampires and their victims.
The neon bar lights reflected from a dark pool of blood surrounding one of the victims. The body, minus the left arm, lay still, already beyond help. The other victim thrashed wildly to break free from the grip of his vampire attacker.
Ari leaped into the crowd, shoving and pounding her way toward the survivor. As she broke out of the circle, she heard a sharp explosion behind her. She spun quickly looking for some lunatic loose with a firearm. The crowd parted and began running. She lost sight of the bigger vamp, but the other stood fifteen feet away, his hands around the throat of his victim. Ari shot a stunner in hopes of breaking his death grip. The blue flame caught the vamp in the thigh. He turned toward her. Wild, rolling eyes, showing white, attempted to focus. When she hit him in the other leg with a second stun, the vamp dropped the victim, but instead of moving toward her, he crouched, snarling, defending his prey.
She inched forward. If she could get close enough to snatch the victim… The vamp hissed, spittle dripping from his fangs. He suddenly rushed toward her, long arms swinging. Before he could pin her in a death grip, she kicked up, catching him hard on the jaw. Knocking them both off balance, Ari fell on her side, rolled to her feet, and grabbed the dagger. The vamp hurled himself toward her, ignoring the weapon. No hesitation, no flinching. Momentum carried him straight onto the blade, and his body hit her as a dead weight. The blade pierced his heart. And a silver dagger is as good as a stake.
Ari shoved the leaden body away and looked for the other vamp. He crouched near the building, a line of police officers and drawn guns facing him. Big guy, long black hair, fangs and clothes splattered with blood. Christopher.
She scrambled to her feet, yelling “Stop!” and ran toward them, hoping to end this without another death. The big guy had other ideas. Or maybe he wasn’t thinking at all. He charged the officers. They opened fire with a deafening roar. The vampire staggered and crumbled under the heavy barrage. Silver bullets. It was over in seconds. A heavy smell like burnt sulfur hung in the air.
Police officers rushed to tend to the victims. The human was dead; the other victim still had a faint pulse. The fur on the back of his hands indicated he was a weretiger, the only reason he survived. Paramedics arrived and transported him to the Otherworld hospital, but he’d do most of the healing himself. Fluids would help. Once he was strong enough to complete the change into tiger form, he’d mend quickly.
Satisfied the