Carl shook his head. "Wow," he muttered softly. "Strong."
Jack's voice sounded odd: "Yeah. Strong. Unreal strong. Strong like we never imagined."
"Something," muttered Cat, "for you to look forward to."
"Huh?" asked Carl.
Cat lit a smoke of his own. "Haven't you heard? Jack's going to be a vampire."
"Not funny, Cherry," growled Jack.
"Not meant to be, buddy," was the response.
"What is all this?" Carl wanted to know.
"It's a fact," drawled Cat. "We just heard from his recruiter."
"You talked to her?"
"Well, for one thing we mostly just listened and for another thing, it wasn't her. It was him."
"The man?"
"The man. And I don't think he came up because he was thirstier than she was, Carl. I think he came up to kill us and take Jack here and make him a vampire."
Then they told Carl about the exploding elevator.
And about the crossbow.
Carl looked pale. "He actually caught it?"
Jack nodded.
"At what range?"
"Twelve feet."
Carl stared. "Lord!" he whispered.
"'Gods' is the way he put it," said the previously silent Father Adam. The priest's voice was hard. "He said they were gods and he said we were fools with wooden stakes. He said Jack was the pope's altar boy."
Carl blinked. "Anything else?"
From Cat: "He doesn't like white crosses - but they can't kill him. He's not afraid of... what was it? Garlic? He said he'd break Felix's back or something if he even pointed a gun at him."
"What did Felix do?"
"Shot him anyway."
"Way to go, Felix!" gushed Carl.
And Felix, from his seat on the curb, turned and gave him a dead look.
And then nobody wanted to talk about it anymore.
"Enough of this," cried Cat suddenly. "What about the sheriff?"
"Yeah," said Jack, "we better get moving."
And everyone, save Cat, seemed to move at once.
Cat stared at them. "You seem pretty sure."
Carl grinned, shrugged. "He said he'd handle it, Cherry."
Cat frowned. "He's only one guy."
Carl grinned some more. "He's a Texas sheriff."
"And he has Kirk with him," added Jack, his own grin faint but still there.
"Great," drawled Cat dryly. "That makes two of 'em. What are they gonna do? Arrest them?"
Carl stopped what he was doing, said, "Probably."
"The mayor? The chief of police? All his cops?"
"If he has to. Cat. He's a Texas sher - "
"I know. I know. You keep saying that. So, he can handle it. Just like that?"
"Just like that."
And for the most part, that's just what happened. Team Crow never did get the details. All Kirk would say was some mumbling about the sheriff walking up to the barricades and telling 'em to break it up.
Twenty minutes later the Team had fire trucks and firemen and ambulances and police protection and demolition advisers the chief had brought in originally to stop them and all sorts of experts on local buildings like the jail. They even had structural plans and advice on how to blow it, and Carl and Cat did, in fact, move three of the charges a couple of yards.
Hattoy showed up in time to press the detonator personally, saying, "All my life I've wanted to kaboom one of these things." This was just smoke, of course, to hide his adding another layer of his personal authority on the event in case of future hassle.
They blew it once, twice, three times, in layers. Then they blew the rubble. Then they blew it some more before the female emerged, rocketing upward in a hail of bricks and screeching. She popped on Adam's side and the priest came through once more, taking only two quick steps on the uneven surface before delivering a clean bisecting shot.
He didn't appear until a half hour before dusk, a fullthroated scarlet fountain of hatred and fury. His screams were ear-splitting. His flames were supernaturally bright.
But in daylight it didn't matter. Jack had seen it all before. He did get close enough to recognize the monster who knew his name before punching the crossbow through the burning chest. But there was nothing special about the shot. Or the end.
"When you're a vampire, Crow..." it had said.
Jack watched the ashes burn all the way down, then whispered, "Not today, little god."
He stood there awhile, lit and smoked a cigarette before moving. When he finally turned away, toward the Team now milling with the sheriff and his people, the realization struck deep.
My God, that was close.
And then: Why did I try to go inside? I almost killed everyone! What was I trying to do?
Today was three years, three months, and some-odd days of this madness.
Shit.
"Thank God Felix can shoot..."
Part Two Chapter 20
Davette wore