Delinquents Turned Fugitives - Ann Denton Page 0,15
lift myself out of Andros’ grip. I slid slowly up his frame, which had become as hard and rough as pitted granite as if he was a statue that had been exposed to the elements for years.
“Another delayed effect,” Gray said, studying Andros’ face. Then he tapped his ear and spoke into his mic. “Forget subtle. Use the GPS and get to me now.”
My eyes darted up as a white van with a cleaning company logo parked across the street whipped out of its spot, revved the engine, smashed across the road, making cross traffic screech to a halt. It jounced up over the curb, barreling straight toward us. In a move that looked straight out of a Fast and Furious flick, the van fishtailed in the grass and skidded so that the sliding door faced us.
I looked toward the lawn near the Unnatural Ball. Several people stared in our direction.
We weren’t flying under the radar anymore. Shit. I tossed shadows over our faces, though they were a weak grey. Hopefully, they worked like masks.
A news reporter in heels started booking it across the lawn toward us.
It might have been paranoia, but I felt like the helicopter spotlight swung in our direction too.
Adrenaline and nerves stormed under my skin as we hurried toward our ride.
Grayson reached the van first and slid the door open with a thunk. The back of the van was empty, seats removed so we could make a fast getaway. He, Malcolm, and Zavier picked up Andros and heaved the huge statue of a man inside. Andros’ body juddered against the van’s floor and rocked it side to side. Then the guys clambered over him to crouch wherever they could find a spot.
Evan slid in front with the driver, not Jim but another one of Gray’s guys, and grabbed a trash bag full of clothes set on the floorboards.
I mashed myself inside and slid the van door shut just as our driver whipped the van around.
Evan shoved on a shirt and smashed a hat low over his features before he rolled down the front window and yelled in a low tone I didn’t recognize, “Vampires! Run!”
The reporter who’d been stalking us froze.
As if Evan had predictive powers it was only seconds before the horde burst through the doors.
The reporter didn’t stand a chance.
Our van lurched back off the sidewalk, bumper scraping against the concrete as my cheek hit one of the tinted windows. Pain smacked my face but compared to what I’d already been through tonight, the bruise was nothing.
A horror story unfolded on the lawn in front of the Pinnacle. The building looked like the damned Roman Colosseum—and tonight, it was hosting a bloodbath as awful as any the original had ever seen.
Raging vampires spilled onto the lawn. It only took seconds for the predators that Callum had freed to attack any humans that weren't shifted. I didn’t hear the screams because as the van screeched across the asphalt, the reporter and the guests from the ball became nothing more than pencil-sized figurines in the distance—but I didn’t need to hear. The soundtrack my mind made up was horrific enough.
My eyes searched for Callum, the solitary sane vampire. But I didn't see him anywhere. I didn't know if I just couldn’t recognize him among the attackers, or if he had disappeared into the night.
Both options scared me.
I took and released several deep breaths as we took a ramp up to the freeway and the Pinnacle building was finally lost from sight. That’s when I slid down from the window and settled onto the floorboards. I blinked a few times, trying to come to terms with reality.
We did it.
It wasn't neat.
It wasn't the clean job I was hoping for—I was certain our faces had been caught on camera more than once, and I needed to go corrupt and erase those feeds ASAP. We still had to unravel whatever had turned Jolly into a blue, stone giant. And there was the little detail about releasing a blood-crazed horde of vampires on Hidden City.
Yeah. Tiny mistake there, Hales, I scolded myself. I closed my eyes and sent a quick prayer for the police that would have to contain them. I hoped the cops were damned fast. They had a system. Over the last century, wrangling loose vampires had become a job for a specialized team of agents. I’d have to leave the vampires to them … for now. Until we got this serum figured out.