Dead Spots (Scarlett Bernard #1)(81)

“Why do vampires need a kitchen?” Jesse whispered, but I just shrugged and rolled my eyes.

“Here,” Albert said, pointing at the interior side of the servants’ door.

I peeked through the little square. The vampire opposite Dashiell, the one closest to Corry, was saying something I couldn’t hear.

“Do you have a plan?” Jesse asked me.

“I’ll get the girl. You go for Hess.”

“And the vampires?” he said, glancing at Albert, who was waiting fifteen feet back, still holding the gun and looking much more comfortable as a vampire.

“Hopefully won’t try to kill us the second we get through the door.”

“Okay.” He took a step toward the door and then looked back. “Hey, I guess you’re off the hook for murder.”

I made a face at him.

“Ready?” he asked.

“Wait! Jesse?”

“What?” His eyes searched my face.

“Um, I’m just sorry. That you got sucked into this.”

He grinned. “Weirdly? I’m not.”

And we burst through the door.





Chapter 33


Jesse went straight for Jared Hess as though he had blinders on. Hess heard the door open and swung the gun around, but by the time he had it pointed the right way, Jesse had crossed the five feet between them and tackled Hess around the waist, driving his shoulder into Hess’s wide torso. In his peripheral vision, he saw Scarlett grab the teenage girl and crouch down in the nearest corner, getting her as far from the action as possible.

Hess went down with an oomph, and the gun went flying out of his hand—and clattered straight down the long oval table, stopping in front of the lean cowboy-looking guy with the shoulder wound. The cowboy looked at the giant vampire across from him for a split second and then dove for the gun, just as the big vamp pulled his own out of a shoulder holster.

As the cowboy managed to shoot the vampire in the face, Ariadne screamed a terrible, inhuman scream and launched herself over the big table, straight toward Beatrice. She was still in the nulls’ proximity, so her scramble across was more functional than graceful, but she dropped into Beatrice’s lap within a second, trying to dig black fingernails into the other vampire’s eyes. Dashiell cried out and tried to pry Ariadne off his mate, which caused the vampire sitting across from him—Carlos—to jump onto the table himself, trying to protect Ariadne.

Of course, Jesse only barely registered all of this, as he was in the middle of an old-school playground fight with Jared Hess. The two of them made a fairly even match: Jesse had trained in combat at the police academy, but Hess was fifty pounds heavier and fast as anything. Hess recovered from the tackle to pound terrible blows on Jesse’s head and shoulders. Jesse jerked his head upward, slamming it into Hess’s jaw, which snapped shut with an audible click. Hess released him but clubbed Jesse away with a punch on the ear, forcing him to roll away. For a moment, the world seemed to have lost gravity, and Jesse struggled to get his feet under him.

Hess stood up first and aimed a kick at Jesse’s face, which he dodged fairly easily. Hess ducked Jesse’s two return punches, driving a fist into his stomach, which forced Jesse to bend in half and take a breath. Hess took advantage of the pause and looked around frantically for the gun, but it was long since out of his reach. When he turned back to Jesse, though, the cop was ready for him, clasping his fists together and driving them up into Jared Hess’s nose. Hess screamed with rage as blood flooded down his shirt, then swung blindly in Jesse’s direction. Off balance, Jesse stumbled back and couldn’t avoid Hess’s vicious kick to his left knee. Jesse screamed with pain and shifted his weight as the knee threatened to crumple under him.

Dropping into a roll, Jesse crawled over to Scarlett, Hess right behind him, and she looked up and nodded in a moment of perfect understanding. She thrust the Taser into his hand, and Jesse turned and managed to flick it on just as Hess’s hand closed around his throat. Jesse felt the secondary volt run through Hess’s fingers and into his own neck, but by the time he registered it, Hess had gone limp, crumbling into a puddle six inches from Scarlett’s sneakers.

The girl—Corry—cried out in fear and anger, and clutched at Scarlett with her good hand.

“It’s okay, it’s okay,” Scarlett soothed, and Jesse looked around the patio.

Hugo the vampire was dead, and the cowboy guy was clicking an empty gun at his chest over and over, presumably trying to destroy his heart. The two women had moved to the foot of the long oval table and were wrestling on the ground, paying no attention to either modesty or fairness. They didn’t fight like girls in movies—both women had kicked off their shoes and were doing their damnedest to land punches, though there was also more than a little ripping out of long hair. Beatrice had a long line of blood bisecting her face. Next to the patio doors, Dashiell and Carlos were circling each other with wary, fearful eyes. Both of their clothes were torn, and blood dripped from a gash on Carlos’s torso. The air was filled with Ariadne’s taunts and everyone’s heavy, labored breathing. As though they weren’t used to it, Jesse thought.

“Why are they still human?” Jesse whispered to Scarlett, nodding down toward the women. “Aren’t they out of your range?”

“It’s her,” she said, looking at Corry. “She’s too upset; it’s making her perimeter expand.”