the pain so bad he went
nauseous. He rounded the corner, skidding on loose gravel.
Fuck! Blay was on the ground with a lesser sitting on his chest, and the two were fighting for
control of what looked like a switchblade. Qhuinn was holding his own against the other slayer,
but the pair were too evenly matched for John's taste. Sooner or later one of them was-
Qhuinn took a right hook to the face and spun out, his head twirling on his spine like a top,
carrying his body into a pirouette.
In that moment something came into John, came in through the back way, entered sure as if a
ghost had stepped into his skin. Old knowledge, the kind that came with experience he hadn't yet
had enough years to gain, carried his hand deep into his back pocket. He palmed the Glock,
popped it free, and double-handed it.
One blink had him bringing the weapon level. A second had the muzzle trained on the lesser
fighting with Blay over the blade. A third had John squeezing the trigger… and blowing a barn
door in that lesser's head. A fourth had him swinging his stance around to the slayer standing
over Qhuinn and rearranging the brass knuckles on his fist.
Pop!
John dropped that lesser with one shot to the temple, black blood spraying out in a fine cloud.
The thing crumpled at the knees and fell face-first onto Qhuinn… who was too dazed to do
anything other than push the body off him.
John glanced at Blay. The guy was staring up in shock. «Jesus Christ… John.»
The lesser by Qhuinn let out a gurgling breath, like a coffeepot that had just finished brewing.
Metal, John thought. He needed something metal. The knife that Blay had been fighting over
was nowhere in sight. Where could he find-
A torn-open box of roofing spikes was by the bucket loader.
John went over, picked one out of the bunch, and approached the lesser by Qhuinn. Lifting his
hands high, John threw all of his weight and his anger into the slice downward, and in a flash
reality shifted like sand: He was holding a dagger, not a length of steel… and he was big, bigger
than Blay and Qhuinn… and he had done this many, many times.
The spike went into the lesser's chest, and the flare of light was brighter than John had expected,
shooting into his eyes and running throughout his body in a burning wave. But his job was not
done. He stepped over Qhuinn, moving across the asphalt without feeling the ground beneath his
feet.
Blay watched, motionless, speechless, as John lifted the spike again. This time, as he brought it
down, John opened his mouth and yelled without making a sound, a war cry no less powerful for
the fact that it was not heard.
In the aftermath of the light burst he became dimly aware of sirens. No doubt some human had
called the police when they heard the gunshots.
John let his arm ease to his side, the spike falling from his hand and clattering across the
pavement.
I am not a coward. I am a warrior.
The seizure came on him fast and hard, taking him to the ground, pinning him with invisible
arms, making him bounce around in his own skin until he blacked out, the roar of oblivion
overtaking him.
Chapter Twenty-two
When Jane and V were back in the bedroom, she took a seat in what she was coming to think of
as her chair, and V stretched out on the bed. Man, this was going to be a long night-er, day. She
was tired and twitchy, not a good combination.
«You need food?» he asked.
«You know what I wish I had?» She yawned. «Hot chocolate.»
V picked up the phone, hit three buttons, and waited.
«You're ordering me some?» she said.
«Yeah. As well as-Hey, Fritz. Here's what I need…»
After V hung up, she had to smile at him. «That's quite a spread.»
«You haven't eaten since-« He stopped himself, as if he didn't want to bring up the abduction
part.
«It's okay,» she murmured, feeling sad for no good reason.
No, there was a good reason. She was leaving soon.
«Don't worry, you won't remember me,» he said. «So you won't feel anything after you leave.»
She flushed. «Ah… exactly how do you read minds?»
«It's like catching a radio frequency. It used to happen all the time whether I wanted it to or not.»
«Used to?»
«Guess the antennae broke.» A bitter expression bled into his face, sharpening his eyes. «I heard
from a good source it's going to fix itself, though.»
«Why did it stop?»
«Why is your favorite question, isn't it?»
«I'm a scientist.»
«I know.» The words were spoken on a purr, like she'd just told
| | |
|