Night Owls

28

ELLY DIDN’T TAKE her eyes off the front of the store. The number of Creeps had thinned, which meant the illusionist was dead or unconscious. It had made her job easier for a whole five seconds. Fewer targets meant she could toss holy water bombs more accurately. But before she could get a third gallon out the window, the vampires had arrived. At first she’d thought the illusionist was back in the game, since the ranks had swelled again. Then she realized the newcomers were attacking the Creeps, not fighting alongside them.

She caught a flash of fang, a glimpse of claw, and recognized a face from Ivanov’s bar.

That nixed the holy water tossing for now. Too much risk of their new allies getting hit with the splash.

Val finished fussing over Chaz and brought him back to the bunker they’d made out of the register area. “He’s going to need some looking after when this is done,” she said.

It was the “when this is done” that mattered. It meant Val still had her priorities straight. “Welcome back. Stakes are to your left, if you’re up for it.”

He took one and looked out at the battle seething outside. “I saw Katya out there. I thought they weren’t coming to help.”

“I made a deal,” said Elly, prompting sharp looks from all three of her companions.

Justin winced. “Elly, you didn’t have to—”

“Everyone keeps saying that. I didn’t do it for any of you, okay? We’ll talk about it later.” It was mostly true. Ivanov’s offer meshed with her own plans, meager and half-formed as they were. It let her earn her keep if she stayed with Cavale. But she’d seen the score last night and knew they couldn’t hold out against that many Creeps. They’d survived the attack at Sunny and Lia’s because of Justin, and who knew if he’d be able to do it again. So far tonight, he hadn’t done anything intentionally Creep-like. His eyes were even yellower, but she didn’t think that was voluntary.

Not even a week ago, she’d have ensured her safety and Cavale’s, and let the rest of them fend for themselves. It was what Father Value had taught her from the start: Take care of your own. Anyone else is expendable. Part of her still insisted she should do just that: get out from behind the safety of this register, find Cavale in the street, and carve an escape route through the Creeps for both of them.

Except . . . Except this strange crew had grown on her. Even Val, who seemed to have about as much an idea of what to do with Elly as Elly had to do with her.

She couldn’t leave them to die, no matter what Father Value had taught her.

Glass crunched at the front of the store. The Creeps who came barreling through let out agonized yips as they passed over Elly’s chalk wards, but they didn’t retreat. They split up, one to either side of the store, advancing even while their fur smoldered with magic. They dragged their claws across the rune lines, whimpering as their flesh burned. Elly hopped over the counter to intercept the Creep on her side. Val moved to meet the other. “Keep an eye on Justin,” they both called back to Chaz.

“It’s fucked-up when you do that in stereo,” he said.

The Creep moved fast despite its injuries, knocking over a stack of books as he lunged at her. Elly sidestepped and swung her spike. Its tip grazed his arm, the flesh withering along the cut. The Creep’s momentum sent it flying past Elly and into a rack of comic books. Creep and rack tipped over together, comics fanning out across the floor. The glossy covers slid around as he tried regaining his feet, giving Elly time to get in closer. She shuffled along the floor, careful not to lose her own footing.

From the opposite side of the store came a crunch and a thud as Val dispatched her Creep.

Elly backed away from her, toward the register. Chaz placed himself between Justin and the Creep, both of their backs to the front of the store. Which meant neither of them saw the third one come bounding through the window.

Elly didn’t bother with finesse: she danced in another step, drove the spike into her Creep’s chest and kept going, leaping over him even as he collapsed into ash. She shouted, “Behind! Behind!” as she went, hoping Val had seen it and was already moving. But Val was up near the front, tangling with a fourth Creep who’d decided to stick her head inside and join the fun.

Chaz whirled and grabbed Justin, trying to yank him back out of the Creep’s reach. Too late, thought Elly, even as she scrambled up behind them. The Creep drew its arm back to swipe at Justin. He was big, hulking even, taller than Asshole had been. Justin was about a second away from having his face ripped off.

Justin cringed back against Chaz, but then he pushed away—toward the Creep. He uttered a word in Creeptongue. It sounded something like kazh, only with an undertone that made gooseflesh break out on Elly’s arms.

The Creep lowered its arm and thudded to the floor, looking up at Justin with its neck bared.

Elly shoved her way in front of the men. “What did you do?” She held out Silver and Pointy, which was still covered with the first Creep’s blood. The one at her feet shrank back, but his eyes never left Justin.

“I, um. I told him to sit.”

Val came vaulting over the register from the other side, her clawed hands covered in blood. She hauled the Creep up and held him there, one arm barring across his chest, the other wrapped around his head, her hand on his chin. One good twist and his neck would break.

Elly risked a glance back at Justin. It wasn’t just his irises that were yellow anymore. Now it covered his whole eye, like a dog’s.

There was a terrible, vertebrae-crunching snap as Val dispatched the Creep. “I’m not in the mood for hostages,” she said, even though no one had objected. The Creep’s body slumped to the ground.

Elly staked it, as much to get rid of the corpse as to be sure it wasn’t faking somehow. Never trust a Creep, not even a dead one. She turned and peered at Justin. “How do you feel?”

“Fine,” he said, then frowned. “I feel like . . . I don’t know. Like my face is too short. And my teeth are too dull.” He ran his tongue over them. “But they’re the same teeth I’ve always had. Aren’t they?” He bared them for Elly to see, a perfect row of white, even, human teeth. When she got close, he backed away, hands up as if to ward her off. “I, um. I kind of wanted to bite you just then. Sorry.”

She moved out of chomping range. “It’s dug in deeper. We need to get it out of him before he actually can change into a Creep.”

Val took Justin’s face in her hands, sniffing. “I can smell them on you,” she said. She looked at Elly. “Do you think Cavale can try again?”

“There’s no time for a ritual. We need to do it a different way. Now.” She wished Father Value were here. He’d have an answer, a good one. Who am I kidding? He’d stake Justin and be done with it.

“I’m open to suggestions.”

Outside, the fighting was still going strong, but there were certainly fewer Creeps. Cavale seemed to have paired up with one of Ivanov’s men; they moved through the throng with their backs together, letting the Creeps come to them. Sunny and Lia had moved to guard the window now, keeping anyone from getting through. Their keris knives were held idly at their sides, the blades smoking.

Elly sighed. “You’re not going to like the one I have.”

“If it’s all we’ve got, I’ll deal with it. Go on.”

“You have to turn him.”

“I . . . What?” Val went even paler than normal. “Into a vampire?”

“Yes. Think about it. Creeps and vampires, when you turn someone, the important part’s done within a matter of minutes. This has taken days, but it’s still happening. If you do it now, maybe the vampirism can overtake the Creep taint.” She was talking too fast, forced herself to slow down for the next bit. The important bit: “You don’t have time to find out, Val. Too much longer and he’ll be one of them.”

Val’s mouth opened and closed, but she couldn’t seem to find a good argument.

Justin walked up to her, his sneakers stirring the dead Creep’s ashes. “Do it.”

She looked down at him. “You don’t know what it’s like. You haven’t even had time to think about it.”

“I’ve had time to think about the alternative. I’ve been thinking about that for three days.”

“This is forever, Justin. No going back. What about all the things you haven’t done? Hell, what’s the last thing you ate?”

“We had McDonald’s earlier.”

“See? You want your last meal to be a Big Mac? It’s blood from here on out.”

“Val.” He’d been timid and awkward these last few days. Now all of that was gone, replaced by a stubborn resolve. “If you don’t help me, my last meal might be a person. Then Elly’ll stake me and that’ll be it.”

“He’s right. I’d stake him if he killed someone,” she said.

“Big help,” said Val. “Thanks.”

Elly shrugged. “I’d do it nicely.”

Justin wasn’t finished. “Listen to me. These things killed Professor Clearwater. They killed Helen. I don’t want to be one of them. And if that means becoming a vampire, fine. Don’t make me be what they are. Please, Val.” He clasped his hands in front of his chest, like a little boy begging to stay up past his bedtime. “Please.”

She stared at him, long and hard. From outside came the sounds of Creeps dying—the hiss of silver burning their flesh, the tearing of limbs, the meaty ripping of vampire fangs in their throats. Katya’s dark, tinkling laughter floated over it all.

Val glanced out there, then back at Justin. Her mouth set in a grim line. In that moment, her decision made, she looked old and tired, and more than anything, sad. Then she quirked the kind of grin Elly imagined you’d see on someone stepping up to the gallows.

“Your parents are going to kill me.”

VAL LED THE procession to the back room, Justin behind her, Chaz lurching along after, one hand on his side. She could smell his worry. Elly stayed four steps behind Chaz, covering their retreat should a Jackal make it past Sunny and Lia. From the pile she’d seen at their feet, though, she didn’t think it likely.

The fluorescent lights in the back were almost too bright after the darkness that had reigned at the front of the store. Val sat Justin in the chair and hunkered down in front of him. Those eyes were damned disconcerting, and hard to reconcile with the thought that this was Justin looking out from them. Elly was right; there wasn’t much time.

“Last chance,” she said anyway. “How are you going to finish your degree?”

“I’ll take night classes. And see what they have for courses online.”

“Got it all figured out, huh?”

“Enough of it.”

College kids.

“All right, fine.” She looked around. Elly was in the doorway, her back to them. She’d drawn a line of runes on the threshold, just in case. Chaz hovered nearby, his bruised face looking all the worse in the harsh light. When this was finished, she was going to have words with Bitch. Words and fists.

But first, she had a vampire to make. “Chaz, I need you to hold him steady.”

Dutifully, he stepped behind Justin and held his shoulders, pulling him into the back of the swivel chair. But when he tried holding Justin’s shoulders, the pain was clearly too much.

Elly glanced into the back room at Chaz’ shout. “Hang on,” she said, scuttling over to him. “I can help.” She wiped the spike off on her jeans and tugged Chaz’ shirt up before he could protest. Lightly, ever so carefully, she sketched a rune on his skin with the tip. She pricked her finger and chanted under her breath, smearing the blood over the scratches that had raised themselves up. After a moment, Chaz took a slow, deep breath.

“Hey, that’s pretty good,” he said.

“It’s temporary. I took the pain away, but your rib’s still broken. Go easy, okay? It’s going to hurt like a bitch again in another ten, fifteen minutes.” She was already heading back to guard the door before Chaz could nod.

Ready for another try, Chaz planted his hands on Justin’s shoulders once more. He didn’t question her; he didn’t argue. It was clear from the look in his eyes that he didn’t like the plan, but he followed her lead, anyway.

Hell, Val didn’t like the plan. She didn’t regret being what she was. After forty years of being a vampire, the novelty had yet to wear off.

That didn’t mean she thought a kid who only last spring had been deemed old enough to legally buy booze was old enough to be a vampire. Justin still had a human life to live, things that drinking blood and sleeping during the day sort of ruled out. Give him another ten years and she might not have argued.

But he didn’t have another ten years. He might not even have ten hours before the spell in his head made him a full Jackal. Sometimes, life snatched your good choices away and left you with a set of new, shitty ones.

She’d have to explain herself to Ivanov later—new vampires normally weren’t made without wading through the bloodsucker equivalent of a sea of red tape first—but Val set that aside, too. This wasn’t the time to fret over politics.

“This is going to hurt,” she said. “I’m sorry.” She said it for Justin, but she meant it for Chaz, too. He nodded, once, and there was no use stalling any longer.

Val drove her claws into her chest. Her ribs and breastbone splintered beneath the force of the blow, and for a moment she thought she’d black out from the pain. She breathed in once, twice. The oxygen was utterly useless to her but the act itself was calming. Then she squeezed and felt her claws pierce the sac around her heart. The muscle spasmed wildly as she impaled herself. She held on, flinging her other hand forward to clutch onto Chaz’ shoulder so she could stay upright. Justin sat sandwiched between them, his amber eyes wide as saucers.

After a moment, her body seemed to figure out that she was being struck with neither pine, nor cedar, nor dogwood, and her heartbeat settled to its normal rhythm beneath her claws. Val felt blood pooling in her palm, gave it another count of three, and withdrew her hand. Her chest made a sucking sound as the claws came free.

She stood swaying a moment, holding Chaz’ gaze as the gaping wound in her chest closed. Skin first, bones later. She could feel them shifting around inside. When she was steady, she looked to Chaz. “Ready?” He’d gone ashen, but his jaw was set, his knees locked. His grip on Justin’s shoulders tightened.

She dipped down low, coming up from Justin’s solar plexus rather than smashing straight through his sternum. He grunted as she reached up through his chest. He might have tried to scream, but her fist was inside him, her knuckles brushing his lungs. Her clawed fingers found his heart. It fluttered and jerked as she closed her hand around it. Justin’s eyes had rolled up in his head. Good. Better not to be awake for this.

Val squeezed, her claws puncturing atria and ventricles. Justin bucked beneath her, but Chaz held him as still as he could. Val leaned on Justin’s legs with her free arm, keeping him from thrashing off the chair. He groaned, long and low, his heart pulsing rapidly in Val’s grip.

As her heartsblood mingled with his, Justin’s struggles subsided. He took one last, shuddering breath, his eyes fluttering open once more. Clear, focused, awake.

Then he died.

Val pulled her hand from his ruined chest and sat back. With one of her clean claws, she opened a vein at her bloodied wrist and brought it up to Justin’s mouth. He lay there, slack against the chair, as she dribbled blood over his tongue. He didn’t move. She rubbed her wrist over his lips like a mother encouraging her baby to nurse.

“Is he . . . ?” Chaz asked, in the hushed tone you heard at wakes.

“Give him a minute,” Val said. I did it right, didn’t I?

Didn’t I?

Just as doubt was getting a solid hold, Justin’s eyelids fluttered, then Val felt the twin stabs of his fangs sliding into her skin. She winced as the flesh tore even further, but she didn’t pull back. Chaz let his shoulders go, and Justin surged up, clutching her wrist to his mouth and swallowing every few seconds. At last he stopped, pushing her wrist away. He panted, glancing down at the fist-sized hole in his stomach.

It was closing, but slowly, new flesh spreading like ice crystals along a pond’s surface.

“You’re new,” Val said. “It’ll take some time.” She held up her wrist: the wound had already closed. She was bloody from the base of her hand to the tips of her fingers, and from the middle of her forearm to her elbow, but the spot Justin had been drinking from was completely clean. “I guess you were thirsty,” she said.

“So that’s it?” Justin stopped staring at his knitting flesh and looked around the room. “I’m a vampire now? I don’t feel very different.” He paused, then poked at his stomach again. “. . . okay, I guess that should hurt a lot more.”

“You still have some changing to do, but for all intents and purposes, yes.” She caught his chin. His eyes were no longer dog-like, but the irises had gone back to yellow instead of brown. Val sniffed, sorting past the scent of her own blood and the Jackals’ scent clogging the air from outside. He definitely smelled like a vampire now; there was a heaviness that hadn’t been there before. But there was more—not the putrid meat smell of the Jackals that had clung to him when he’d arrived with Cavale and Elly earlier, but something dry and hot that made her think of wide-open grasslands beneath a relentless sun.

“What is it?”

“I don’t know. But I think you’re okay. Do you still feel like your face is too short?”

He touched his nose, his lips, his chin. “No.”

Chaz grinned. “Better question. Do you still want to bite Elly?”

Justin twisted around to look at her. She ducked her head into the room and eyed him, the silver spike held loosely in her grip. “Um. No.”

“Good.” Val pushed herself up out of her crouch and gave Justin a hand up. “Lean on me and we’ll go have a word with our friends out front.”