Fall of Night The Morganville Vampires - By Rachel Caine Page 0,89

and dripped on the concrete underneath, and his eyes were open, wide and surprised. They’d gone dull and filmed with grey – dried out from exposure to the air.

Claire gasped and jumped backward. She couldn’t help it; coming up on a dead man here, in the creepy zone, was something that woke instincts she couldn’t control no matter how hard she tried. She almost banged her head on the sharp metal corner she’d avoided, but Oliver’s outstretched hand stopped her cold. ‘Quiet,’ he whispered, and his voice was about as sharp and uncaring as the metal. ‘He’s been dead for hours, beyond anyone’s help. There’s something in here with us.’

‘Something?’

‘Yes. It doesn’t smell like a vampire, though it moves like one.’ That sounded … ominous. Claire paused to unzip her backpack and take out the sharp, shiny knife that Dr Anderson had given her. She wished she had something more long-range, like Shane’s flamethrower, but she stopped the thought almost immediately; Shane had always told her, you fight with what you’ve got, not what you want to have. ‘There’s a door beyond the body. Go open it. We may need to move through quickly.’

Again, she was bait – warm, pulsing bait that anything even remotely like a vampire would find tastily attractive. And she knew that he meant her to be just exactly that, but at the same time, it was a decent strategic move. Jesse was somewhere in the shadows with her own killer knife; Oliver was a deadly force even without a weapon. And Eve, somewhere beyond him, was more than capable of helping out, even unarmed. It wasn’t just her wit that could be deadly.

Claire stepped carefully over Derrick’s body – and didn’t that give her a nightmare flash from every horror movie, ever – and moved toward the single, small door that was set low in the wall. It was too small to go through standing up. She put the flashlight in her teeth and pulled the door handle, and it protested – not locked, just a tight fit. Her second yank got it free, and it swung open with surprising silence. She’d expected an appropriately eerie creak, at the very least, but someone had – ominously – oiled it to ensure it didn’t make noise.

And then something hit her, hard and stunningly without warning, from the left, and the flashlight spun away.

Claire didn’t even have a chance to cry out; her breath was driven out of her in a soundless burst an instant before her vocal cords responded, and then she was flat on her back with her head ringing from impact with a metal pipe, and she couldn’t understand what had happened, and there was something leaning over her, something pale and naked and awful with eyes like a cesspool on fire, and she felt the cold dribble of its saliva on her throat. It was only an instant, but it was a snapshot of a nightmare: a distorted mirror of a human being, with a hugely exaggerated jaw open far too wide with vampire fangs wider and longer than she’d ever seen extended and ready to cut. The nose was smashed and shrunken like a bat’s, the ears shrivelled little clumps at the sides of the head, and if the thing had ever had hair, it was long gone. Impossible to say if it was male or female; Claire couldn’t even imagine thinking of it that way.

And then it was lunging for her throat.

She reacted instinctively, shoving the knife deep into its chest. That helped – it kept it away from her throat. But it was still snapping at her, not dying nearly fast enough. She shut her eyes convulsively, and that was good, because she didn’t see what happened next, though she inferred it later. Instead of the icy bite on her neck, she felt a sudden chilly splatter of liquid flood over her that smelt rancid, like raw meat left in the fridge for months on end. The weight on her convulsed and fell away, and Claire balled up in a protected fetal curve toward the wall, retching.

The thing’s head bumped against her hip and rolled away. Decapitated, by Jesse’s extremely sharp knife. ‘Claire. Claire!’ Jesse’s calm, cool voice, and her hand on Claire’s shoulder. ‘Up. We need to go, quickly.’

It was almost impossible to shake that horrible event off that easily, but Claire somehow managed … she accepted Jesse’s help in standing and retched again, emptily, at the stench of