1305 & 1306 The Oracle & the Vampire (The 13th Floor) (9 page)

“You’re my back-up insurance.” The demon pointed at him and broke into a jackal’s grin. “If something happens with the woman, you know how fragile humans are, I still have you. Plus, it will torment the old man to know you’re going to die and he can’t do a damn thing about it.”

“Let me go and I can help you. I’m strong. I’ve been around a while. I know this city.” Grasping for leverage, a hint of interest, anything.

“Yeah, no thanks.” The demon walked to the roof door. “I’ve got more loyal, stupider guys for that. You think too much for my liking.” He waggled his fingers in a good-bye. “Oh, I’ll throw you one last treat. That old witch, she’s no one’s grandmother. And she’s got the hots for you. Why you never took advantage of that, I’ll never know.”

The door swung open with a wretched squeak. “I’ve got a show to prepare. Enjoy the sunrise.”

The demon slammed the door closed behind him. Kiral slumped to his knees. The chains pulled at his arms. His hands slowly opened and closed.

Demons told lies. That’s what they were famous for. Maybe he didn’t have Marc’s lady. And the crone was old enough to be a grandmother. Even if she wasn’t Harriet’s by blood, the two were family. They were too similar not to be.

As for the last part, well, it wasn’t unusual for women to become captivated by him. It made him a little uncomfortable thinking the old woman might feel that way, but she had always been kind and respectful. A damn lot more than he deserved.

Kiral was no saint. He’d done terrible things. The drugs helped him forget. He never wanted to be this way. Not an addict, nor a vampire. Fate was a cruel mistress.

Perhaps he should let himself burn. He’d be doing the whole world a favor.

No. Harriet. Kiral had to find her. He never wanted to die. That’s why he resorted to drugs rather than suicide. A life, a good life, was all he ever wanted.

Harriet would help him find the way. And he’d do everything in his power to make sure she was happy too.

Renewing his battle against the chains, Kiral yowled. He yanked so hard he broke his thumb trying to force his left hand through. The manacle reduced its size to compensate.

More broken bones and blood. Each time the cuff shrank until it was clutching the very bone of his forearm.

“No, no, no, no!” His cry went unanswered. Dawn was too close, and he’d lost so much blood. His strength was waning. He uttered the only prayer that gave him hope. “Harriet.”

CHAPTER 15

Harriet stumbled and fell for the ninth time. At least this time it wasn’t in a gigantic puddle created by a spewing hydrant. Some folks had tried to take firefighting into their own hands. Her heart wrenched that it was unsuccessful.

No more visions claimed her. It didn’t matter, though. The one foretelling that mattered didn’t tell her the one thing she needed to know: where was Kiral?

A rooftop in view of the rising sun. A tall building surrounded by blackened ruins. Harriet sat on the ground with her legs splayed and thumped her palm against her forehead. It was in there. Somewhere in Carmine Kiral awaited death. Did he fight? Was he sad? One thing she knew: he was alone.

It was tempting to stay there and cry. Goodness knows she needed it. This was no time for tears. As long as it was still dark, she had a chance of finding him.

Harriet pushed herself to her feet and wobbled. If only she could move faster. Fences and sides of buildings were helpful. She could lean on those, but she didn’t dare try any alleys or dash across yards. There had been no sign of people or anything living since the demon snatched Kiral.

She realized her feet were taking her toward home. Instinct was something to be trusted. Was the rooftop her own building? There were apartments on either side, shops across the street, and a parking lot in the back. She pictured it charred like a war zone, but it wasn’t right.

Maybe her instincts were broken.

A meow made Harriet yelped. She clutched her chest as she leaned against a fence and turned to the direction of the sound.

Kerr trotted across the street toward her with his tail held high. He mewed again and rubbed up against her leg. She bent, picked him up, and held him snugly against her.

“Kerr, how did you get out?” She would ask how he found her, but he was her familiar after all. “It’s dangerous out here. You shouldn’t have come.” Yet even as she said that, she pressed her face against his soft fur. He purred, echoing her comfort and joy.

At her feet, there was a second higher pitched mew.

Harriet laughed as she peered at Elli sitting primly in front of her. She set down Kerr and picked up the tabby. For once, she wasn’t greeted by swats or a grumpy attitude. Elli rubbed her face to Harriet’s as she kissed her familiar. “Elli, my sweet. You’re both so brave for venturing out tonight.”

Elli sniffed as if to say she knew it already. Harriet set down her cat and straightened. “We need to keep moving. I have to find Kiral before sunrise.” Then she added quickly, “Don’t take any alleys.”

Glancing over their shoulders at Harriet, the cats moved in unison down the street. Harriet followed. Okay, her instincts were intact. Or, at the very least, her bond with her familiars was strong.

As they walked, she sorted through numerous spots in the city where the rooftop might be located. Tripping over a curb and bonking her knee brought her back to the present and to where the cats were leading her. Closer to home. Very close to Catherine Miller’s place. It was just around the block.

Her familiars rounded the corner and headed toward the apartment door. Harriet struggled to keep up with them. “Hey now. We’ve no time to visit friends.”

Harriet held onto a lamppost and paused to catch her breath. She barely got a lungful when a shout caused her to scream.

“You! Put your hands up and step out into the street where I can see you. Go on. I’ve got a gun pointed right at you.”

Holding up her hands, Harriet’s legs shook as she did as she was ordered. That voice …

“Ms. Miller?”

“Eh? Do I know you?” The soft sound of a motor brought Catherine out of the shadows. She was riding her mobility scooter. She lowered her Luger as she drove up to Harriet. “My goodness, twice in one night. Are you all right?”

Harriet’s appearance must’ve said otherwise, but considering she was still alive, she nodded. “I’m fine. What about you? What are you doing outside? How did you get your scooter out with the elevators not working?”

Catherine stopped her scooter and leaned back. She gasped as the cats hopped up to greet her. “Oh my. What sweethearts you are. And I’m all right. More so than many folks. I’m patrolling the block, looking for anyone who might need help. I couldn’t sleep.” She explained as she stroked two contented felines. “And my convertible was already downstairs in the hall. Tony at the garage was going to pick it up for a new paint job. Something flashy.”

Flashier than the sparkling cherry red? Harriet couldn’t stop a smile from peeking out. “It would look lovely, I’m sure.”

“Where’s your young man? Or rather, Harriet’s. Please tell me you found Harriet.” Catherine’s hand stilled.

“Harriet’s fine.” She was standing right in front of her. A little lie wouldn’t hurt as long as it eased the other woman’s mind. “She’s someplace safe. As for Kiral, I’m searching for him. To let him know Harriet is okay.”

“That lad can take care of himself. You need to get inside where it’s safe too.”

“So says the woman with the gun driving her scooter around a city in chaos.” Harriet raised a brow.

“Just the block. I’m neighborhood watch.” Catherine held up her chin, but then nodded. “I don’t see the shotgun.”

“It was very helpful, thank you.” Harriet sighed. “Kiral was… He was going some place high, to get a look at the city. But with so many buildings, I’m not sure where he’d go.”

“If I were him, I’d go to the Circle. The buildings around the heart are the tallest in Carmine. You’d be able to see across the whole city.”

The blackened ruins. The fountain. That’s where he was! A rush of adrenaline surged through her.

“Thank you, Ms. Miller. That’s just the spot. I need to go, but you stay safe.” Harriet shuffled forward before she finished speaking.

“Hold on a minute.” Catherine shooed the cats off her lap and stepped off the scooter. “That’s a ways to go and you don’t have much gas left in you. There’s three-quarters of a charge left on my baby here. Take it.”

Harriet hesitated for only a second. She then embraced Catherine. “Thank you. You don’t know how much this means. Thank you so very much.”

“Yes, well, figured I’d save you some walking.” Catherine smiled and gestured to the front of the scooter. “In the basket, there’s my butcher knife. I’d give you my husband’s gun, but there aren’t any bullets left. I didn’t shoot anyone, but a few folks needed to be run off.”

Harriet sat down on the chair. It was warm and cushy. Elli hopped into the basket, and Kerr sat between her feet just under the seat. “Thank you. I’ll have Harriet return this to you.”

“Send that girl over as soon as you can. And maybe her young man too.” Catherine chuckled and stepped back. She waved them off. “Good luck and safe journey.”

Waving, Harriet then pressed the accelerator with her thumb, and the scooter lurched forward. She’d worked with enough of the elderly to know how these worked. A bonus was the fact that Catherine’s was top of the line and very fast.

She hadn’t gone two blocks when she heard the explosion. Windows shattered and screams leaked out from various buildings.

Harriet didn’t let up on the gas. A plume of smoke rose from the city’s center. She had her charred landscape. Kiral was on top of one of the buildings surrounding it.

It was too close to sunrise. Half an hour maybe?

Come on, scooter. Go faster.

Her hair whipped around her face. Harriet didn’t move it away unless it got in front of her eyes. She didn’t slow for corners or bumps. Elli held onto the basket with her head up. A beautiful figurehead.

Harriet refused to let her vision come to fruition. Kiral was so close. She wasn’t going to let him die.

CHAPTER 16

Even Kiral’s unburnt flesh itched. The sun had tickled the horizon with oranges and golds. Any minute now, the great Ra himself would poke his head out, and Kiral would be ashes.

His hands and wrists were mangled. None of his struggles had found him freedom. The demon had done a phenomenal job with the spells. Kiral wouldn’t be surprised if the chains even held his blackened bones after the sun burned him.

His dislocated left shoulder throbbed. Why couldn’t he tear his arm off? He had yanked and gnawed on it, but perhaps the spells held him whole.

Below him, a fight raged on. It was nothing human. Roars shook the buildings.

It didn’t matter. No one was going to save him. And he couldn’t save himself.

I tried, Harriet. I tried so hard.
His head hung forward as he dropped to his knees. Deep and dark were some holes he’d fallen in, but all had a way to climb out. Now he was on a rooftop in the growing light, and there was no way out.

The sunrise was near the honey color of Harriet’s hair. A halo nowhere near as beautiful as hers. One moment with her was all he was allowed in his long life. He would count himself blessed.

The roof’s door burst open. A gray cat jumped out. A second, smaller feline followed, dragging the mutilated arm of an imp. She laid her prize in front of Kiral and stood there, awaiting acknowledgment.

“Elli?” Was this an illusion? Some sort of trick? Leave it to the demon to torment him in the last moments of his life.

Elli meowed and then he heard it. A shuffling and heavy breathing. It couldn’t be. How was it possible?

The crone trudged out the door and leaned against it. Her red face was slick with perspiration, and the wind blew her wild hair into more of a tangle. She lifted her head and smiled.

“I made it in time.” She straightened and scurried forward, holding her left wrist out to him. “Drink. No protests. Then you can break out of the chains.”

“No, Grandmother. The chains are bespelled. Added strength will not help free me.” As her wrinkled face fell, Kiral took her hand and brushed his lips across the bumpy knuckles before pressing it to his forehead. “Thank you for all you have given me. You’ve shown me great kindness and compassion when no other has done so. It’s been my honor to know you. Tell Harriet.” He squeezed his eyes shut. The itching grew into needle-like stings. The sun was almost above the horizon.

“Tell Harriet I wish I could have known her. To sit and talk, to hold her hand. And tell her that I knew no pain at the end. I won’t hurt her gentle heart with my brutal demise.”

“You’re not going to die.”

Kiral’s head whipped back. His grip tightened on her hand. “Harriet?”

The crone was gone. A young woman stood in her place in the hag’s ripped and bloodied clothing. Her frenzied hair caught the early morning rays and lit like a magnificent halo. So beautiful. His angel.

Was he dead already?

“I’m going to break the spells and then you’ll bust free.” She pulled her hand free, and his fingers snatched at air, trying to keep a hold of them. Harriet knelt by one of the anchors and frowned. Her familiars sat on either side of her and stared as if they were concentrating on the spells as well.

Harriet was going to free him. She was a witch like—

The truth slammed into Kiral. He gasped and then cursed himself and laughed at the same time. Harriet was a keener, a banshee. The crone wasn’t her grandmother. They were one and the same. His angel had been with him the whole time.

But why didn’t she tell him? They’d been searching the city for someone who was there all along. Perhaps he should be angry, but he wasn’t. Harriet was safe. She was here.

She’d offered her life for his.

Kiral was going to kill that demon.

The sounds of battle had ended below. There was only the wind and Harriet’s chanting. She was going to save him.

The stinging blossomed into a bonfire of agony too quickly. Kiral cried out and arched his back. Jerking frantically at the chains, he tried to flee the light. No fire ever burned this deeply.