Lover Revealed (Black Dagger Brotherhood #4)(7)

“Why don’t you head out?” the bastard on the right said. “Better for you.”

“Probably, but worse for him.” Butch nodded toward the civilian.

An ice cube breeze shot down the alley, ruffling orphaned newspaper pages and empty plastic shopping bags. Butch’s nose tingled and he shook his head, hating the smell.

“You know,” he said, “this whole baby powder thing—how do you lessers stand it?”

The slayers’ pale eyes traveled up and down him as if they couldn’t figure out why he even knew the word. And then they both flipped into action. The lesser closest to the civilian made a grab and hauled the vampire against its chest, turning the hostage potential into a reality. At the same moment, the other one lunged at Butch, moving quick as a blink.

Butch wasn’t into getting rattled, though. He calmly angled the muzzle of the Glock and shot the steamrolling sonofabitch right in the chest. The second his bullet penetrated, a screech worthy of a banshee exploded out of the slayer’s throat and the thing hit the ground like a bag of sand, immobilized.

Which was not the normal lesser response to getting plugged. Usually they could throw it off, but Butch was packing something special in his clip, thanks to the Brotherhood.

“What the f*ck,” the upright slayer breathed.

“Surprise, surprise, cocksucker. Got me some fancy lead.”

The lesser snapped back to reality and hauled the civilian off the ground in a one-arm waist hold, using the vampire as a body shield.

Butch leveled the gun at the twosome. Goddamn it. No shot. No shot at all. “Let him go.”

A muzzle emerged from under the civilian’s armpit.

Butch dove for a shallow doorway as the first bullet ricocheted off the asphalt. Just as he took shelter, a second shot ripped through his thigh.

Fuuuuuck, welcome to roadkill-ville. His leg felt like it had a red-hot roofing spike drilled into it, the niche he was jammed into offered about as much protection as a lamppost and the lesser was moving into better shooting position.

Butch grabbed an empty Coors bottle and tossed it across the alley. As the lesser’s head popped around the civilian’s shoulder to track the sound, Butch lit off four precisely targeted shots in a semicircle around the pair. The vampire panicked, just as expected, and became an unstable load. As he fell loose from the slayer’s grip, Butch put a slug into the lesser’s shoulder, spinning the bastard away, landing him facefirst on the ground.

Great shot, but the undead was still moving, and sure as shit he was going to be on his feet in another minute and a half. Those special bullets were good, but the stun didn’t last forever and it helped if you nailed a chest rather than an arm.

And what do you know. More problems.

Now that the civilian vampire was free, he’d caught his breath and started to scream.

Butch limped over, cursing through the pain in his leg. Jesus Christ, this male was making enough racket to bring in an entire police force—all the way from goddamned Manhattan.

Butch got up in the guy’s face, pegging him with hard eyes. “I need you to stop yelling, okay? Listen to me. Stop. Yelling. Now.” The vampire sputtered, then clammed up like his voice box’s engine had run out of gas. “Good. I got two things I need from you. First, I want you to calm yourself so you can dematerialize. Do you understand what I’m saying? Breathe slow and deep—that’s right. Nice. And I want you to cover your eyes now. Go on, cover them.”

“How do you know—”

“Talking wasn’t on your to-do list. Close your eyes and cover them. And keep breathing. Everything’s going to be okay provided you get yourself out of this alley.”

As the male clamped trembling hands over his eyes, Butch went over to the second slayer, who was lying facedown on the pavement. The thing had black blood oozing from its shoulder and little moans coming out of its mouth.

Butch grabbed a fistful of the lesser’s hair, tilted the thing’s head off the asphalt, and put the Glock’s muzzle in tight to the base of the skull. He pulled the trigger. As the top half of the bastard’s face vaporized, its arms and legs twitched. Fell still.

But the job wasn’t done. Both slayers needed to be stabbed in the chest to truly be dead. And Butch didn’t have anything sharp and shiny on him.

He got out his cell phone and hit speed dial again as he rolled the slayer over with his foot. While V’s cell started to ring, Butch went through the lesser’s pockets. He lifted a BlackBerry as well as a wallet—

“Fuck me,” Butch breathed. The slayer had activated his phone, obviously calling for an assist. And through the open line, the sounds of heavy breathing and flapping clothes were a loud and clear sign that the backup brigade was coming fast.

Butch glanced at the vampire as V’s phone continued to ring. “How we doin’? You look good. You look really calm and in control.”

V, pick up the damn phone. V—

The vampire dropped his hands, and his eyes fell upon the slayer, whose forehead was now all over the brick wall on the right. “Oh…my God—”

Butch stood up, putting his body in the way. “You don’t think about that.”

The civilian’s hand came out and pointed downward. “And you—you’re shot.”

“Yeah, you don’t worry about me, either. I need you to cool out and leave, my man.” Like right f*cking now.