Cold Reign (Jane Yellowrock #11)(76)

Bruiser looked at me and his face was both intent and weirdly happy. He leaned in and whispered, “Six against two. No place I’d rather be. No one I’d rather be with. Not in all of my long years.”

My heart did a little somersault and pirouette. Bruiser kicked in the door.





CHAPTER 14


    If It’s Ass You Want . . .



Time sped up with battlefield awareness. I took in the upscale kitchen in an instant. The kitchen stovetop burners were on, gas flames a bright, too-hot blue. Knives glowed red in the flames. Two foreign vamps and six unknown blood-servants. Another blood-servant was stretched out over the island, face up, arms and legs cinched back. Naked. Exposed. Torso and thighs burned where he’d been tortured.

Before I could blink, the vamps whirled and drew swords. Bruiser fired twice, fast, two-tapping the vamp closest to the tortured human. The other vamp popped toward Bruiser. The blood-servants swept toward me like a wave of death, blades in every hand. I braced the Benelli against my shoulder, aimed at the first human, midcenter, fired, the shot pattern tight and deadly. She fell. All sound blasted away by the shot. We had miscounted at four humans.

The others spread out, moving so fast I could barely follow, humans hyped up on vamp blood. I fired again, missing, wasting my expensive ammo on humans.

Stupid thought.

I aimed, fired. Fired. Hit a second human, too low for a mortal wound, but she was down. Four shells gone, three left. Two humans down.

Three humans ducked behind the furniture, one on the far side of the island.

A fourth leaped atop the island. Even as her weight landed on one foot, she fired down at the man tied there. Three shots midchest. Pushed up, transferred her weight again, and fell onto me. I dropped back and down, the weapon pointed up. I had clear and complete focus on the woman’s face as she fell. Onto me. Onto my shotgun.

Miscalculation. Shock at the sight of my face. Fear. In midair, she tried to roll away. I squeezed the trigger. Upper chest, center. Took out her sternum and everything beneath it, including heart. I rolled away and she landed on the spot where I’d lain.

Three down. Three bad guys to go. Two shots left before I had to reload. At the speed the humans were moving, I’d never get that done.

The human behind the island was crouching around the side; I took aim at where the head should appear. Someone outside my field of vision tossed a pile of kitchen cloths onto the flaming stove and slammed a bottle of something on top. It shattered. The scent of good brandy filled the air. The cloths ignited in a whomp of sound and bright light. Flames leaped high Beast retreated from the forefront of my brain, shouting into my thoughts, Fire!

I centered the sights on the very edge of the island. The human behind it stuck out his head just as the woman who had thrown the brandy rushed me. I squeezed the trigger. The top of his head burst all over the cabinets behind. It was still splattering when I rolled flat to my back, weapon pointed down along my body. Tucked my toes down hard. Fired.

Last shot. The weapon bucked slightly in my arms.

The female blood-servant dropped. I was out of ammo with one human left. Where was he? Where were the vamps?

The last human raced through the kitchen doorway and into the predawn, a blur of darkness. I rolled over again, now holding a nine-millimeter that had been in the gobag. Smoke roiled slowly across the ceiling. Flames danced up the wall and dashed across the ceiling, separating the smoke and sending it rolling faster. The room was hot. My wet clothing started to steam.

Fire dashed across the room. Ignited a tablecloth. The kitchen was empty.

Except for Bruiser and a vamp.

They were sitting together on the floor, the vamp’s legs splayed like a child’s in a sandbox. Bruiser sat on her lap, his arms around her, her head pressed to his neck. She was drinking.

I scuttled close to separate her from her undead life. But Bruiser’s arms tightened, pulling her closer. Something dark and deadly crawled through me. Bruiser, loving a vamp. I centered the weapon on her head. Bruiser held up a single finger, telling me . . . Telling me to wait? Wait! While another woman sucked on him? My heart did a twisting dive.

Beast dove to the forefront of my brain and growled. Mate. My mate. Kill other.

“Bruiser?”

Bruiser’s finger rose again. I realized the vamp wasn’t drinking. She was sitting with her fangs at Bruiser’s throat but not inside his flesh.

I saw it then. The magics. Dark red rose, the color of watered blood, clear and sparkling, as if it contained bubbles. Magic like champagne. Flowing from the female vamp and into him. Into Bruiser. Into Bruiser. Into . . . He was draining the vamp.

Onorio magics, unknown magics. No one had any idea what Onorios did. What they could do. Only that they were rare. And powerful. And that Leo had three. Or he’d had three until today.

Slowly, I lowered the weapon. Safetied and put it away.

Flames roared as my hearing came back online. Heat like an oven blasted across the room. In the distance, sirens wailed.

Hunched over. Gathered and holstered my weapons. Crab-walked to the human who had been tortured and checked his pulse. He was long gone. I knew him, but didn’t remember his name. Jim? John? One of Grégoire’s people. He should have been in HQ, safe. I had no idea what had made him stay here or come back here. It had been a deadly blunder, whatever the reason.

Something darkened the doorway. I found a nine-mil in my hand again. Pointed at Gee DiMercy. “Get out,” he said. “The entire place is—” He spotted Bruiser on the floor. His eyes grew wide and a look of intense satisfaction settled there for an instant, like a bird touching down and pushing back off. The expression, whatever it had meant, disappeared.