“Gautier, if you’ve got a damn point, please come to it,” Rhoan snapped.
Gautier’s smile was lazy. Obviously, he had this all planned out to the nth degree, and he wasn’t about to hurry.
“Do you know anything about hanging?”
“No. But if you’d like to volunteer, I’d gladly experiment on you.”
I might as well have not spoken. The great Gautier was on a roll, and there was no stopping him. And as much as I wanted to help the little kid, I believed what he said about that laser.
For good or for bad, I wasn’t about to risk my brother’s life on the off chance of stopping Gautier.
“Hanging with little or no drop, which is the case with the kiddy above us, usually results in death by strangulation. Asphyxia, to use the correct terminology. The kiddy struggled the usual one to three minutes after suspension, then became as you see her now. However, there have been recorded cases of people being successfully revived even after thirty minutes.” He paused and glanced at the watch on his free hand. “Which gives you precisely nineteen minutes.”
“You’re a bastard, Gautier.”
I said it with venom, and he laughed. “Well, I would have thought that was a given.”
“And the point of this whole charade?” Rhoan said, voice flat—a sure sign his control was close to the edge.
“As I said, it’s all about options.” He paused, smiling like a cat who knew the mouse was his. “Option one. Play my game and save the child. Option two, come after me now and let the child die.”
“You forgot option three—kill you and save the child.”
“There is no option three. You move, Rhoan dies. Rhoan moves, he dies. Either way, I win.”
Because he knew we were pack-mates. He might think that Rhoan was a wolf who’d become a vampire, but that didn’t matter. He knew that for wolves, the true death of a close pack-mate could incapacitate for weeks, if not months. Particularly with us, because Rhoan wasn’t only my pack-mate, he was my twin. We were two halves of a whole—and, truth was, I really didn’t know if either of us would want to live without the other. We were too much a part of each other’s lives.
I crossed my arms. Which meant the laser was no longer aimed at the monster in front of me and left me somewhat vulnerable, but I wasn’t worried about him shooting me. Far from it. He’d drawn us here for a reason, and it wasn’t so he could kill us. “What game is it you wish to play, Gautier?”
“I was hoping you’d choose that one. As much as I like listening to life slowly slipping away, the game has the potential to offer us both so much more.”
“For God’s sake, just get on with it,” Rhoan said.
Gautier’s smile faded. The sensation of danger that had been swirling around me sharpened abruptly, and sweat broke out across my skin.
“Jack often commented in the past on how good Rhoan was, and how good he expected you to be, Riley, when you finally gave in and joined the ranks. So I think it only fair that we have a little test to see who truly is the best guardian. And the test is, of course, stopping the madman behind the recent killings.”
“I feel inclined to point out that, a, you’re no longer a guardian, and, b, you said earlier you know the man behind the killings. That gives a rather good head start, doesn’t it?”
He gave me a grin that was all teeth. “I never said the game would be easy for you.”
And he had every intention of making it even harder, if the gleam in his eye was anything to go by. Not that that was so surprising. “So, we play this little game of yours and both hunt The Cleaver. What does the winner get—besides the termination of said killer?”
“Well, you both get the satisfaction of knowing you beat me.”
“Lucky us.”
He nodded. “And, of course, I would leave the state.”
And I’d grow wings and fly. “And if you win?”
“Then we begin another game. Me hunting you and all you hold dear, while you try to survive.”
Which is precisely what he’d promised to do four months ago. “I can’t speak for Rhoan, but if you leave right now, I accept the challenge.”It was worth it, just for the chance to save the kid.
“Leave now, and I agree,” Rhoan said, voice little more than a venomous hiss of air.
Gautier smiled. “I thought you’d see it my way. I’ll see you on the battlefield.” He gave us a salute with the laser.
Then he shot the board out from under the kid.
Chapter 2
No!” The denial was wrenched from me as I sidestepped the falling halves of the plank.
Gautier’s laugh echoed even as the shadows swept him from sight.
I looked up for the first time, saw the tiny body dangling almost directly above me. Saw her bare and filthy feet, toes that were so tiny, so fragile. Not a teenager as I’d for some reason presumed, but barely older than a tot.
Bastard. Fucking evil bastard…
“Rhoan—can you shoot the ropes from where you are?”
“Yes. Get ready to catch.”
I shoved the laser into my pocket and positioned myself under the little girl. “Ready.”
A bluish beam bit through the half-darkness, cutting through the rope and blowing out the window above and behind me. Glass exploded, raining down in deadly shards. I caught the girl with a grunt, her limp little arm whacking me in the nose as I hunched over her and tried to protect her from the rain of glass.
Razor-sharp shards thudded into my back, but the leather coat protected me from the worst of it. I waited until the last of the glass had fallen, then carefully placed the little girl on the ground.
She was still alive—her pulse fluttered underneath my fingertips. But God, she was so little, so fragile…so cold.
There was a soft thump, then footsteps. I looked up, but could barely see Rhoan striding toward me through my tears.
“I’ll take care of her,” I said. “You go after Gautier.”
“Keep aware.” Rhoan’s voice held all the fury I was desperately trying to contain. “He might have made other vamps. They might be hidden around somewhere.”
If they were, I couldn’t sense them. But I nodded, and as Rhoan ran off, I looked down at the little girl again and noted the bluish tint to her lips. The cause could have been asphyxia, or it could have been blood loss, but in all likelihood, it was a combination of both. Especially given the fang marks on her neck. If she was to have any hope of survival, I had to get help here fast. I stripped off my coat and sweater and wrapped them around the little girl’s body and legs. It wasn’t much, but at least they were warmer than the thin nightie she had on. Then I got out my cell phone and called in a mica-unit. The micas were ambulances designed to cater to medical emergencies on a street level. It was the little girl’s biggest chance. Maybe her only chance.
Five minutes, they said.
I hoped the little girl had five minutes.
I gently brushed tangled tendrils of brown hair from her face, the chill in her cheeks so very evident against my warmer fingertips. Christ, why hadn’t the Directorate received any reports about a missing kid? It was routine for the cops to pass on reports of kidnappings and disappearances, as rogue vamps often found easy victims in the young and the frail. A good majority of the reports weren’t vamp related, of course, but the Directorate always had them double-checked, just for the one or two percent that were.
But maybe this snatch had been very recent. Maybe her poor parents weren’t even aware that their little girl was missing.
God, what a hell of a way to greet the morning—an officer on your doorstep telling you your baby had been kidnapped and murdered.
I bit my lip again, fighting the fresh spurts of anger and tears. And I knew, deep down, that they stemmed not only from the horror of the situation, but from the fact that I couldn’t have children. Would never feel life grow within my belly. My vampire genes had overrun my wolf ones in that area and left me a mule—not just barren but with a womb that would not support a life. Of course, there was still hope of motherhood via a surrogate, as some of the eggs I’d had frozen had been tested and were apparently still viable. But that choice was one I’d hoped to avoid.
Of course, the rest of my body was still a battleground, and no one could tell me how my vampire genes might yet affect my future. I might become more vampire, like Rhoan, or I might not. And then there was an added element of uncertainty—the cell-changing ARC1-23 drug now running through my bloodstream.
“Gautier’s long gone.” Rhoan’s voice rose out of the darkness, the suddenness of it making me jump. I’d been too busy trying to help the little girl, and that was a mistake that could have gotten us both killed if Gautier had doubled back.
Rhoan stopped close by, then stripped off his jacket and handed it to me. I wrapped it around the girl’s body. Her skin felt no warmer, even with the coats and sweater I’d already wrapped around her. Maybe she’d lost too much blood.
“Why would he do this?” Rhoan asked softly. “It makes no sense.”
I swiped at a tear trickling down my cheek and looked up at him. “Gautier’s a psycho, and psychos don’t need a good reason to do things.”
“Gautier’s not your average psycho, and he doesn’t do anything without a good reason.”
“Enjoyment of the kill is the only reason he’s ever needed.”