Joseph pressed harder with his words and the vampire holding her finally froze. Six wriggled free, slamming her fist so hard into the creature's chest, its sternum snapped The vampire, paralyzed, could not even flinch.
Six backed off. Joseph did not try to touch her. He glanced up and down the street. There were people on the sidewalk, staring. Cars had stopped in the road. Beyond them all, a rain of sparks and fire flooded the night, a series of hard bangs rocking the air. Joseph could feel the explosions in his chest. The sensation felt right at home with his pounding heart.
Joseph did his best. He altered the chant once again, isolating everyone he could see, turning his will on them, spreading a compulsion to leave, forget, to remember only as a dream. He glanced at Six and found her watching him, then the people, who obeyed without questions, turning and walking away. Cars started moving again.
He still held the long dagger in his hand. Six glanced from it to the vampire, frowning. She touched her cheek. Her eyelid twitched.
"I need answers," she said, and Joseph sensed she was not entirely speaking of her old investigation.
We both need answers, he told her silently, and Six gave him such a sharp look he wondered if she heard his mental voice. He had wondered earlier, too, at the massage parlor. He had never been able to speak inside another person's mind—not outside the family, at any rate. It required a strong connection.
But even if he did agree with Six, this was not the place to ask questions. Nor did he have the skill to force the vampire back into its human body. That could only be done by choice. Joseph cut off its head. Six was not fast enough to stop him, though he cheated just a little by slowing her down. He thought she might have tackled him, otherwise. Instead, Six watched that wiry body collapse on itself and blow away in the wind. The ashes mixed with street trash. She turned on him, furious. "Why did you do that? I told you I needed answers. I could have questioned it."
Joseph kicked at the clothes left behind on the sidewalk. "Too much time involved. We need to leave. This place is too exposed."
"Not your decision. I am calling in my team." Six reached for the wire beneath her shirt, then hesitated, looking at him. "You disabled it, didn't you? There was also a tracking device. They would have already been here by now if it was working."
Joseph shrugged, sheathed the dagger, and walked to the abandoned car, which was blocking traffic and generating some very loud honks. Joseph wondered how much the drivers had seen, if any of them had taken pictures with mobile phones. Not that it mattered. Cameras never did well with him.
The car doors were still open. He hesitated, thinking about his apartment with its nice safety features—like walls and doors—and then strode around the sleek hood and slid into the driver's seat. Six leaned into the passenger side and gestured.
"Get out," she ordered. "You are ruining evidence."
"Just a little," he admitted. The keys were still in the ignition. Joseph started the car.
Six stared. "What are you doing?"
"Parking this thing. If I leave it here, the police will come."
"In case you have forgotten," she said coldly, "I am the police. In fact, I have far more authority than the police, and I am better trained."
"So arrest me," Joseph said. "Take me in. Try to explain everything you've seen. Accuse me of terrible crimes. That won't help you catch your terrorists." Nor would it save her life. He stared at the scratch on her cheek. The skin was flushed, slightly swollen.
Six slid into the car. She sat for a moment, staring at him, dark eyes sharp. "You just killed people."
"I suppose," Joseph said warily, recalling the feel of steel cutting through flesh, the crackle of papery skin. "It's complicated, though. I'd hoped you would know that by now."
Six's jaw tightened. No other warning. She grabbed his throat before he could blink, and squeezed so hard he choked. He grappled with her hands, but her fingers were like iron. He struck at her face; she grabbed his wrist and pinched. Fire ran up his arm; he would have cried out if he had a voice.
Her expression never changed. "You need your vocal cords to control me. I could just rip them out. With my fingers. I could do some other things to your body. Nothing pleasant."
Joseph had no doubt of that. Six was stronger than he had imagined.
I understand, he said, using his mind to speak to her. He was not entirely certain the message would go through—he still thought those earlier moments might be flukes—but a furrow formed between Six's eyes and she licked her lips. Joseph remembered kissing her. Felt like a lifetime past. He wondered if he would ever get another chance.