"Sam — "
She jumped and quickly pressed the earphone, cutting him off. He'd once told her the kites hunted by sound and movement. She wasn't about to chance the creature hearing his voice, no matter how unlikely that might be.
The kite came into view. It almost looked like a large white sheet, except that it had feet and talon-like hands. The creature hesitated as it neared the steps, sniffing the night like a dog. It turned milky white eyes in her direction. She controlled the urge to reach for the stun rifle and remained still.
After a moment, it lumbered past, moving to the other end of the alley. Avoiding the yellow wash of the street light, it slunk round the corner and disappeared. She rose and picked up her rifle before switching the earpiece back on.
"A kite just made an appearance in the alley. I'm about to follow."
"Negative. You're not equipped — "
She snorted softly. "Neither are you, partner. You continue to keep watch on the blood bank, and I'll see what the creature is up to."
"Stun guns won't — "
"Gabriel, remember imperative one?" The SIU had only become aware of the Kites two months ago, but since then, the creatures had reached the top of the SIU's extermination list. With an edge in her voice that imitated his own, she continued, "Find and stop all kites, regardless of the cost."
"That doesn't mean you have to do a suicide run after them when you're not properly equipped to deal with them."
"Please credit me with a little bit of brain power. I'm merely going to see what the thing is up to. Besides, they just may be using the creature to pull us away from the blood bank."
"I don't particularly care about the damn blood bank."
Meaning he cared more about her? Given his recent behavior, she found it a little hard to believe. She stopped at the end of the alley and carefully peered around the corner. The kite lumbered across the road.
"But Byrne does. If the vamps follow the pattern, this one will be hit sometime tonight."
The kite disappeared round the corner of the opposite street. She ran across the road and then edged forward, keeping to the shadows of the three-story apartment building.
"I'm calling for backup," he said, voice terse.
"Fine." It only made sense to do so. "I'll keep in contact."
"You'd better," he growled.
She grinned. She might well pay for it later, but damn, it felt good to annoy him.
She reached the corner. The kite was nowhere to be seen. Wondering how the creature could have moved so fast, she frowned and glanced up — and found it. The loose skin around its arms flapped lightly as it climbed crab-like up the wall.
The wind tugged at her hair, throwing it across her eyes. She brushed it back and listened to the sounds beneath the soft cry of the wind. Two men were talking, their voices harsh and grating. A radio near the top of the building played classics. Between the two, the squeak of a bed and a whispered good night. Sounds she wouldn't normally have heard except for the odd sense of power flowing through the night and into her soul.
The creature seemed to be headed for the apartment in which the radio played. She watched it as long as she dared. When it stopped and pressed a taloned hand against a window, she turned and ran for the apartment building's front door.
"Gabriel, the kite's about to break into a top floor apartment on the corner of Gibb and Macelan Streets."
"Help's on the way. Stay where you are."
The words had barely whispered into her ear when she heard the sound of glass shattering. A heartbeat later the screaming began. Sickening visions swam through her mind — bloodied images of the street bum she'd found three months ago, his body a mass of raw and weeping muscle stripped of skin.
She swallowed heavily and pounded up the stairs. "Negative. It's attacking. I'm in pursuit."
"Damn it, you're not equipped to deal — "
"Just get backup here quickly." She pressed the earphone, cutting him off again. She didn't need to hear what she could and couldn't do. Not when a man's life was at stake.
Two flights... three. She leapt over the banister and up the remaining stairs. People milled in their doorways, their eyes wide and fearful. Not one of them appeared willing to investigate what was happening to their neighbor. City living, she thought, sucked. But then, would neighbors in suburban areas be any more willing to risk investigating screams as fierce as the ones currently shattering the silence? She suspected not.
She slithered to a stop outside the apartment door and glanced back at the pajama-clad crowd. "SIU, folks. Go back inside and lock your doors."