"No one else is going to get close enough to need convincing." Joseph walked fast. His apartment building was a block away. "Besides, I'm going to help you catch the people you're looking for. Once I do that, you'll hopefully be so distracted—and appreciative—you won't ever think of hunting down poor me."
"Unlikely." Six narrowed her eyes. "And how will you help? If you know something—anything—it merely substantiates your guilt."
Joseph ignored her. The tickling in his brain was worse. He turned, searching. This was a residential neighborhood, not close to any major shopping center, though the tourist trap of Xin Tian Di was certainly within walking distance. Still, there were quite a few people on the street. Young women, mostly, dressed in skinny jeans and narrow jackets, tall boots stacked with sharp heels. Bodies backlit by bursts of sparks, firecrackers spitting and hissing into the road, dancing beneath the tires of cars, bicycles, scooters dripping exhaust—
"What is wrong?" Six asked.
"Quiet," he murmured, listening hard. He hugged Six close, not even thinking of it until the scent of her hair drifted into his nose. He became aware of roses, warmth. It disconcerted him for a moment, distracted his mind, which suddenly wanted more of Six, less of everything else.
Bad timing. He felt the rush before he saw it and ducked low dropping Six on the ground, releasing the compulsion that bound her. He expected her to be ready and she was, rolling the moment her muscles were free, and she got on her feet so fast he almost got knocked out before he could explain. No need, though. A black Audi screeched to a full stop on the road beside them. Doors slammed open. Vampires emerged.
There were three of the creatures, making the air cold as ice around their bodies. No way to know for certain how they looked when fully human, but like Chenglei, the flesh had sucked away until all that remained were skeletons racked by skin, hissing as though a great black wind lived inside their mouths. Ugly bastards.
Unfortunately, they also had guns. Guns pointed directly at him.
Joseph never saw Six move. One moment she stood beside him—and in the next she vaulted off the hood of a car, managing a one-two blow with nothing but her feet—practically walking on heads—catching the last creature in the face with her fists as she came down, whirling through the air like a dancer. She was beautiful, a blur, almost as fast as the vampires themselves—and Joseph wondered if it was just their surprise that was letting her go so far, or if she was truly that good.
He flung out his hands and a low rumble rose from his throat, splitting tones like the deep hum of a long mountain horn. The vampires went still. Six grabbed their guns and backed away. She did something with her hands; two of the guns fell into sundry parts, the third she tucked into the back of her pants alongside Chenglei's weapon. Six glanced at him, a question in her eyes, her breath puffing white in the cold air.
Joseph did not answer. Not with his voice, not with his mind. He edged forward, staring at the vampires, matching gazes as his voice coiled hard around them, channeling his will. The vampires were empty on the inside, but with enough spark left that it was hard to bind three at a time. So hard, Joseph did not notice the tickle at the back of his skull until it was almost too late.
Six saved him. He felt her move against his back, heard flesh smack, something crack—a hiss—and then she danced into sight with a vampire hopping and lunging, skin white as ice, hollow and brazen. Joseph's voice remained strong, but it was an effort—nor did he try to extend his control to the fourth vampire. He did not dare. He reached over his shoulder, beneath the neck of his shirt. Touched steel. Listened to the hiss of a sharp edge as he pulled the long dagger free. He felt like his heart was going to fly out of his chest. He had never been attacked like this. No one in his family had, not for years.
Joseph cut off heads, chanting as he killed. The vampires could not fight him, but he felt no remorse. Cold blood, in this case, made no difference. Not when he knew the alternative. Their flesh was brittle, crumbling into clumps of thick ash. No bulky evidence. The remaining sparks of their souls fled.
Six still fought. She did not shoot the guns in her possession; she merely used her fists and feet, never staying in one place long enough to be touched. But her opponent was a vampire—fast—and she was only human. Joseph saw her make a mistake—one pause, a second too long—and he changed the chant, trying to save her life.
Too late. The vampire grabbed her. But Joseph felt no pull, no internal strike to Six's life. Instead, the creature stared at the scratch on her cheek, and touched it with its tongue, delicate, savoring the taste. She struggled, face twisted with disgust.