But it didn’t even slow her down. Before I could even step backward, she was flying at me. She grabbed my arm and tossed me probably a dozen feet. The circle of people parted to let me fly past. On landing, I shook my head and tried to clear the fuzz from my brain. As I stood up, the calf that had been injured the night before informed me there was still glass somewhere in my muscles. The pain was sharp and immediate as I frantically moved left to avoid a kick square in the face. I leapt to my feet from my knees like I was an extra in a Jackie Chan movie and we were off again.
We circled, eyeing each other, looking for telltale movements. Blows flew and were blocked. Feints succeeded or failed.
Soon, the scent of blood filled the air, adding copper to the salt filling my nose. I figured out pretty quickly that “first blood” wasn’t actual first blood. I paused briefly when that happened, but nobody stopped the fight, so oh, well. I’d keep going until someone yelled, “Stop!”
My vision was flowing in and out of hyperfocus, making it hard to think. Fortunately, there wasn’t really time to think, so it didn’t much matter.
The two of us were well matched. She had me in reach. I had better strength, though not by as much as I would’ve expected. We both were well trained. We would’ve been equal if I’d neglected my weight work. This could wind up being a long, painful ordeal with the winner determined by willpower and stamina. Fortunately, I have quite a lot of both.
She moved to sweep my legs, putting all her weight on her left leg. Timing my jump with exquisite care, I went for a flying kick. She turned, taking the blow on her shoulder rather than giving me her back and risking a spinal injury.
The impact staggered her, threw her off balance. It was the break I’d hoped for. I dived at her in a flying tackle, the pair of us hitting the ground with a jarring impact.
I thought I had her, but she managed to pull herself out of my grip and roll away before I could pin her.
I scuttled back, trying to gain my feet, but she was quicker—quick enough to kick me in the ribs as I rose. That hurt. I came to my feet hissing with pain and annoyance, blood gleaming like neon on the surface of glowing skin.
She was on her feet as well. Her expression flickered from startled to grim determination and she moved in to attack.
My eyes shifted into full vampiric hyperfocus. Everything was suddenly so clear. I could see each grain of sand, the pores and flaws in each stone. Adriana’s tiniest muscle movements were grossly exaggerated. I knew what she was going to do almost before she did.
She shifted, throwing a hard punch toward my solar plexus, but I wasn’t there. I’d dropped down and was sweeping her legs out from under her. She went down hard. Her head slammed against the same rock hard enough this time to stun her for a second. In that second I was on her, pinning her body with mine. She started to struggle, turning her head back and forth as she searched for some way of escape. I hissed again, but this time it wasn’t a sound of pain. It wasn’t a human sound at all.
My eyes focused on her neck and the pulse that beat so rapidly, so close to the skin. My sense of self began to fade as the world narrowed to that tiny fragment of flesh. I needed to taste the blood underneath . . . more than I’d ever had to do anything before in my life. I couldn’t breathe, couldn’t think. My mouth opened. Adriana’s eyes went wide and she struggled anew, but the sinews in my arms had turned to iron straps and she couldn’t get away.
The vampire within me started to lunge forward to feed and the siren in me was going to let it happen. Clear victory would allow a taste of flesh. But at that last moment, my human conscience forbade it.
People are not food!
Throwing back my head, I howled in hunger that was so strong it was an actual pain. It ripped through every nerve in my body like an electric shock. Pain. So much pain.
But I had to be human enough to say no: human enough not to do this even though another part of myself demanded it. I might be part vampire and part siren. But I was born human and I never intended to lose that part of myself.
I crawled off of Adriana awkwardly, moving painfully to the opposite side of the ring from where she lay. I had beaten my hunger, but I was going to pay dearly for that victory. Rising to my feet, I shoved through the eerily silent crowd to where Hiwahiwa stood beside Ren. I grabbed my clothing without ceremony and turned to Ren. “Get me the hell out of here. Now.” I spoke aloud. I needed food, now, or someone was going to die.
“But—” She glanced over to Queen Lopaka. The queen was still nodding her assent when I felt the world lurch and I was back on the Mona’s Rival—and in the middle of a battle.
15
We materialized into chaos. My eyes burned from smoke and the deck shifted beneath me as an explosion of magic erupted from the door of the front cabin. I watched as a half-charred man flew backward over the rail to slam into the side wall of the cabin of a boat that was tied to our railing.
I felt, rather than saw, Ren vanish. Whether she’d gone for help or just gone was anyone’s guess, but I didn’t have time to worry about it. I ducked down, my world still slowed by vampire vision and the need for blood. But my effort at stealth was spoiled when the billowing smoke made me cough. The nearer of the two invaders turned, startled by my sudden appearance and state of undress. Surprise only slowed him for an instant. Still, that instant was enough for me to find my jacket in the pile of clothes and pull out the first weapon that came to hand. I threw the boomer hard, not at him but at the floor by his feet. Covering my eyes, I was rewarded by a flash of heat and light I could feel through my upraised arm and a roar of sound meant to temporarily deafen anyone in range.
I managed to get my gun pulled and safety off quickly enough to step out of the way of the man charging blindly toward me. He might not be able to see now, but he’d glimpsed me before the light show and was attacking based on that knowledge. Not a stupid move in close quarters like these. There wasn’t a lot of room between me and the railing and he was bigger than me.
Still, I had the advantage. I could see. Rather than waste a bullet I might need later, I stepped aside, ducking beneath his outstretched arms. Coming up behind him, I leveled my hardest punch at his right kidney. His knees folded. He probably screamed, but I couldn’t hear it. My ears were still ringing from the boomer.
Hitting the safety, I pistol-whipped him, and he went down. As I shoved him under the railing into the welcoming ocean, I realized that I’d seen him before. At La Cocina. He’d been with George Miller.
What the hell?
It didn’t matter. Well, it did, intellectually. But it didn’t in reality. Because the second man had positioned himself, legs spread and braced between the railing and the cabin wall. Blindly but methodically, he was firing off shots, holding his weapon at waist level. Shoot, adjust an inch to the left, shoot again. Smart. Because if I was blinded, too, he’d get me eventually, based on the limited space. I dropped to my stomach, braced my elbows, and flipped off the safety. Then, just as methodically, I shot him. The bullet took him between the eyes. Gruesome but effective. I was on my knees, getting ready to rise, when a man came around the front of the cabin, apparently checking to see what had happened.
I fired at him, but I was in an awkward position and he was damned quick. I missed. Swearing, he ducked back behind the cabin wall. I had to scramble to get out of his line of fire. The bullet missed me but embedded itself in the wall, sending fiberglass chips and wood splinters into my naked flesh. Damn it. Ow. I was backing up when I saw the shadows shift on the wall beside me. Instinct made me whirl and I fired into the chest of a monster.
It was tall and oddly shaped, with a long, eyeless head. Its russet body was scaled, naked, and hugely male. Its body was oddly shaped, with knees that bent the wrong direction. Half a dozen curved bone horns surrounded its head where the brow line should be and wicked brass-colored claws sprang from the ends of its hands and feet.
An imp. A lesser demon. A demon.
Oh, shit, oh, shit, oh, shit.
It turned toward me, its mouth opening to show wicked fangs that dripped venom. A long black tongue flicked out in a gesture reminiscent of a snake scenting the air.
I scrambled backward, tripping over my empty holster in my haste to make sure I was out of the reach of that thing. I fell on my ass, hard, dropping my gun, which skittered across the deck to fall into the ocean. The impact made me bite the inside of my cheek. Blood filled my mouth and I spit it out. The creature turned, tongue flicking faster at the smell of fresh blood. It and me, quite a pair.
I reached down to the deck and began rummaging through the pile of clothing, digging for the one thing that might help me against the monster I was facing. I managed to get my right hand wrapped around the plastic handle and was about to pull the little squirt gun free when I heard movement behind me. Heard it—which meant my hearing was coming back.
“Well, if it isn’t Ms. Graves.” Miller’s silken voice was condescending as hell. Of course, considering the advantage he had over me, he had reason to be. “I did warn you not to cross me.”
The demon leaned forward, reaching toward me with its claws. “Halt!” Miller’s command was sharp and the creature jerked back as if it were at the end of a leash. Throwing back its head, it screamed, a harsh, hateful sound with all the musicality of nails on a blackboard or static feedback.
“It’s a little extreme, isn’t it, dealing with the devil just to get back at your ex-partner?”
He shrugged, albeit mostly with one shoulder. The other wasn’t working so well. “In for a penny, in for a pound. I’m damned in either case. And the only way I can put off my eternal unrest for even a little longer is by killing Creede. So, where is he?”
“Haven’t got a clue.” Absolute truth. He could be anywhere. He was probably on the boat. But I sure as hell hadn’t seen him. For all I knew, he was already dead.
“Don’t make me do something you’re going to regret, Ms. Graves.”
The imp strained against its invisible tether and he let it come just a fraction closer. I could smell its breath and a tiny drop of spittle splattered against my leg, burning it like acid.
