Slayer(45)

“Bad doggy!” I shout.

A snarling behind me signals the presence of more than hellhounds. I leap down from the cage, fists up, but I don’t need to bother. Everything in here is caged. And though the room is almost pitch-dark, barely lit by some emergency lights blinking above us, I can see there are a lot of cages. My Slayer instincts are going haywire. I force myself to inspect the room even though my body is screaming at me to do something. I really hope my dream hasn’t happened yet. Because I’m pretty sure this is the room Cosmina was in. And if she was already in here, she certainly isn’t anymore. . . .

I creep closer to the next cage, expecting more hellhounds. In the corner of the cage are ragged human clothes, ripped to shreds. I gasp in horror. Something throws itself at the bars in front of me, bouncing off and growling.

It’s a werewolf. The clothes belong to it, not some victim. But my relief is short-lived, because it’s a werewolf, and the moon is full. I do a quick sweep of the cavernous space. My six hellhound buddies in one cage with dividers, six werewolves in separate cages, and six . . .

I take a step back. Inside the last cage, divided like the hellhounds, are six monsters. I’ve never seen anything like them. They’re wearing human clothes, and they look almost like vampires—but wrong. Which is saying something, because vampires are already wrong. These creatures are a perversion on top of a perversion. Gone is any semblance of humanity. I thought that was the worst thing about vampires—the way they look and talk like humans but have no souls. However, seeing these mindless, deformed, still human-shaped but now possessed things as they snap at the bars and stretch their clawed fingers for me makes me want to vomit.

Demons are demons. Vampires are corruptions of humans. These? I don’t know. I dart back into a dark corner, cursing my yellow coat as a door opens and someone new walks in.

“Hello, pets!” a woman sings. “Look at you all, already frenzied. You know we have something special for you tonight, don’t you?” She pauses to coo at the hellhounds. But when she passes the cage of unknown creatures, she spits at them. “Abominations,” she mutters, checking a few levers on the outsides of the cages. She’s the vampire from my dream. I’m almost positive, even in the dark.

I should stake the vampire. I know I should.

My body knows it should.

But my brain has enough control now that the thought of retrieving the fallen stake, creeping up to her, plunging it into her back, watching as she disappears . . .

It’s not the right move. I need more information. Maybe there’s someone waiting for her, someone who would raise an alarm if she didn’t return. Or maybe she’d hear me trying to find the stake and let the monsters loose on me.

I’m making excuses. I know what Artemis would do. What Buffy would do, even. Yet I still can’t bring myself to take a step toward the vampire.

Exhausted from fighting my instincts, disappointed in myself, and confused about what the right choice is, I use the cover of the loud creepy creatures and darkness to slide along the room’s perimeter. I debate finding a way outside to meet back up with Artemis and Leo. But the door the vampire came from is calling to me. There’s more going on here than I expected, and a good Watcher would figure out what it is. A good Slayer would too. I have to be both brains and muscle in this scenario. I’ll stake the vampire as soon as I know more.

The door leads to a damp stairwell, the stairs rusted and noisy. I do my best to creep down them. Another door waits for me at the bottom. I take a moment to calm myself, sure that after the previous room, I’m ready for anything. Then I open the door.

Okay, I wasn’t ready for this.

The room is packed with people. They mill about, drinks in their hands, the whole room buzzing with conversation and excitement. It looks like a sporting event. I straighten, sauntering in like I belong there. Fortunately for me, it’s still quite dark, the main lights focused brilliantly in the center of the space. A closer look reveals a pit flooded with light. It’s twenty feet deep and about the same in length and width. The floor is packed dirt. The pit’s walls, however, are lined with bright shining barbed wire. I suspect it’s at least tipped with silver. There’s a hum in the air that doesn’t seem like it’s coming from the floodlights. That’s when I notice two generators hooked up to cables that lead to the barbed wire. Electrified wire.

Whatever is going to happen in that pit, it’s not good. I squint upward, trying to see past the lights. The ceiling has big square hatches in it. If I’m calculating it right, they’re all placed directly beneath the cages.

Something wet splashes on my coat sleeve. I whip around, terrified that I’ve been caught. A demon with brilliant red, symbol-carved skin grimaces. “Sorry. So bloody dark in here. And now I need a new beer.” He raises one scar-where-an-eyebrow-should-be, grinning hopefully at me. “Can I get you one too?”

“You’re not my type,” I blurt. Then I cringe. Pissing off a demon in the middle of enemy territory is not a good idea. “Girls!” I say. “I like girls!”

He laughs. “Me too.” Winking, he wanders away. Here’s hoping all my demon encounters this night are so easily solved.

He reminds me to take better stock of the crowd, though. It’s mostly human, but there are a few demons like my would-be suitor scattered throughout. There’s one line to buy drinks, and another where people are exchanging money for slips of paper. Maybe I did make the right call in not killing the vampire. If this group knew there was a threat, I definitely couldn’t take them all out. And I shouldn’t, either, with so many humans.