Blood Work (37 page)

“My God,” Erin
repeated.

I scrambled
out, nearly took a dive into the sand as my knee gave out, and then
went back around to her end.

“Should you be
out there?” she asked. Her voice had solidified up into something
resembling anger.

“I’ll know if
they’re coming back.” I held out a hand to her.

Erin glared at
it and hauled herself out without assistance.

“So, see any
real estate that interests you?” I asked as she stood up.

“You weren’t
exactly Mr Forthcoming yourself. Why did she wait so long before
attacking? She was circling this area, knew it was here, knew we
were here.”

Lovely. Just
the question I didn’t particularly want to answer. “If you
remember, I told Mercy not to close with it without me as back
up.”

“But she
wasn’t here when we first showed up,” Erin snapped.

“She was
watching and waiting.” Before Erin could demand clarification, I
said, “Mercy’s not strong enough to take it down on her own. We had
to soften it up for her.”

There was a
tense, contemplative silence. I could all but hear the cogs turning
rapidly in Erin’s head.

“I think she
used us as bait.”

It was said
quietly, firmly. And I couldn’t deny it.

“As a
distraction, definitely.” I turned a complete circle, reaching for
Mercy, trying to pinpoint her general location. There was a hint
toward the south, away from the houses of the street and in the
deeper realms of the park.

Erin ejected
her mag, checked it and refilled from her pockets. “You did
something to me last night.” Her tone was soft, almost accusatory,
but with something underneath that didn’t sound so
argumentative.

“Big Red had
laid a serious compulsion on you. Deeper than anything else I’ve
encountered, which these days, isn’t saying much. If I hadn’t
broken it, once he got his ducks back in a row, he could have just
jerked your chain and you would have gone running.” I glanced at
her. She was studying the trees with a cold intensity. “You haven’t
had an urge to go looking for him?” And in that moment, I almost
regretted breaking the hold he’d had on her. If I’d left it alone
and he’d sent out the call, I could have followed her right to him.
In the next moment, I hated myself for the thought. What sort of
person would even think that, let alone consider it seriously?

Let’s not
answer that.

Erin shook her
head. “Big Red?”

“Narsico
Martínez Pérez.”

The look she
flashed me was all sceptical questioning.

“Big guy in
the Spanish Inquisition,” I explained. “Reportedly having a great
big bash for his 301st birthday this year.”

“Spanish…” She
trailed off and closed her eyes for a moment. Heaving out a long
breath, she asked, “He’s a vampire?”

“Give the girl
a Kewpie doll.”

The wolf
howled. It sounded closer than Mercy felt. And I could have kicked
myself for not using the respite to look for my gun. Erin raised
her gun in the direction of the howl. Both of us backed toward the
slide again.

“And vampires
don’t like sunlight?”

Kudos to McRea
for keeping on topic under the oncoming threat.

“Or garlic, or
Holy anything.” I grabbed the knife again. About the only use the
nightstick would do me was if I decided to bludgeon myself to death
before the wolf could eat me to death. I should probably look into
a second gun.

“And they
can’t walk around during the day?”

“I shouldn’t
think so. They tend to get rather dopey during the sunlight hours.
Not the classical dead sleep of your Rice vampires and whatnot. You
could have a conversation with them, if you wanted nonsensical
answers. You could even drag their arses out in the sunlight and
let them fry. Why twenty questions now, of all times?”

Erin snorted.
“I think you’re the sort of person that if I don’t ask when I can,
I’ll not get a chance again for a long time.”

“I promise,
after this is over, we’ll have that talk.”

“Like you
promised to come to the meeting today.”

“Wow. A guy
doesn’t get many chances with you, does he? You never did give me
an answer about the seafood. I know this little restaurant out
at—”

The wolf
barrelled out of the trees. For all that Mercy had had it on the
run, it didn’t look any worse for wear. If anything, it looked a
trifle fitter. I had a moment to panic about Mercy and then Erin
was pulling me down.

We scrambled
back into the slide. Both of us trying to get into the one end
would have been amusing to any All Knowing Being looking down from
above. And I’m glad we could provide the entertainment, but all I
cared about was not being mauled beyond recognition. Mother had
always cautioned Joe and I, when we were in the midst of a rough
and loud display of brotherly affection, that she would like to
have open casket funerals, so please, be careful of your faces,
boys. I’d die, literally, before disappointing her like that.

I managed to
squeeze in with my face somewhere Erin probably didn’t really want
it and the world’s biggest and wettest nose in roughly the same
place on my own anatomy. I damn near shoved Erin right out the far
end. The slobbering jaws vanished from my arse, leaving a vacuum
that was almost as scary as the wolf.

Erin screamed
and pushed back as the slavering mouth snapped inches from her
face. I pushed my back into the top of the slide, letting her
slither in below me. However, it was clear that the climbing castle
manufacturers, while not accounting for werewolf-dogs, had also not
considered the fact two adults might like to spend time together in
the slide. Or perhaps they had, and just reasoned that any adults
who might like to do that, barring the presence of a big bad wolf,
would only do so because they wished to be intimate. In short, if
the wolf didn’t pick us out at its leisure, we’d probably need the
Jaws of Life to make our escape.

If there’d
been any doubt that the werewolf had begun life as a fun-loving,
joyful puppy of the floppy ears and big, round eyes persuasion, we
were disabused of that notion.

With a
powerful slap, the wolf sent the slide rolling over and over.
Between us, there wasn’t enough room for anyone to clatter about
this time. Claws scraped over the hard plastic, teeth gnashed and
the throaty growls vibrated through the slide and right into my
chest. We ended up on our sides, spooning, if you’re into the exact
imagery. Everything went quiet. No snuffling, no grunting, no
pitter-patter of paws around our cocoon.

“Do you think
it’s gone?” Erin whispered.

“Not unless
you’re the luckiest person alive. Are you?”

“No way. I’m
here with you, aren’t I?”

We listened
hard for a while longer. Still nothing.

“Do you know
where she is?”

I was this
close to telling her Mercy had a name, but decided now wasn’t the
time. Getting to know your neighbourhood vampire was probably best
left to calmer situations.

Concentrating,
I reached down the link and found Mercy. She was lurking about,
waiting for a prime opportunity. And she was hurt. Whatever had
happened in the park hadn’t gone so well for her. I couldn’t
pinpoint any exact wounds, but they were bad enough to slow her
down.

“
Mercy, how
bad are you hurt?”

She growled at
me.

Fantastic. It
was bad. Shit.

I began
squirming about, trying to judge which was the best direction to go
in.

“Hawkins? What
is it?”

“Mercy’s
hurt.” It came out harsher than I intended, but I wasn’t about to
apologise.

“You can’t go
out there. It’s probably right there, waiting for one of us do
exactly what you’re doing.” And she twisted about so she could
clamp her arms around me.

I stopped.
“I’m not leaving her out there alone and hurt. Can I borrow your
gun?”

She glared at
me, then sighed and began wriggling forward. I went backwards and
we managed to get apart without too much damage. Erin, Glock close
by her head, took a quick peek.

“Can’t see
it,” she reported.

We waited a
breathless second to make sure it wasn’t about to appear and try
for Erin’s head. Then she snuck another look. Clear again. I tried
as best I could to look over my shoulder. It too seemed monster
free. I dangled a foot out but quickly. No takers on the bait, so
we squirted out together.

Rolling the
moment my head was clear, I came up on my good knee, left leg
stretched out to the side. Erin came out in a combat roll, bringing
her into a similar position. Between us, was the slide. And perched
on top of it?

Oh boy, you
guessed it.

I froze to the
spot. Pretty sure Erin did too. The wolf looked between us. Out
smarted by a dog-freak. Man, I hoped I didn’t survive only to have
to try to live it down.

It went for
Erin this time. It shifted slightly toward her. Erin fell
backwards, gun coming to bear on it. I threw myself at the slide
just as the wolf began to move. Hitting the slide at an angle, I
caused enough of a rock it threw the wolf off balance. It tumbled
to the side and Erin’s shot went wide.

While it was
down, I reached for its tail, got a handful and half hauled, half
launched myself onto its back. The SAS knife was buried in its side
before it shook me off. Like the cross bar before it, the knife had
no great effect, except that it was small enough the wolf deemed it
an acceptable nuisance and simply flew at me.

A board swung
over my head and collected the wolf in the face. Mercy finished the
swing, lifting the creature off the ground and tossing it
backwards. She leaped after it, bringing the half a seesaw down on
its back. It twisted with depressing speed and flexibility and
swiped a paw at Mercy. It caught her across the stomach and she
fell back, the grass around her staining black as her blood hit
it.

The wolf
lunged at her. She caught its ruff of fur and held its jaws back
from her face. It clawed at her again, raking her arms, leaving
long, deep furrows in her pale skin.

I scrambled
for Erin. She lay where she’d fallen, Glock pointed at the fight
but wavering, unwilling to shoot while Mercy was so close to the
wolf. I had no such hesitation. I grabbed the gun and stood,
walking toward the fight. The wolf was the bigger target by far,
but still I got as close as the waving paws would let me and
unloaded the remains of the clip into the beast. It yowled and
jerked with the blazing impacts and tried to get away. Mercy,
however, held it tight and suffered the accidental wounds of its
flailing claws.

Finally, it
sagged in Mercy’s hold, head drooping toward her, jaws slack. It
was still alive though, sides heaving with laboured breaths. Mercy
tossed it aside with obvious effort. It didn’t go far, but it
stayed down.

I knelt beside
Mercy, but she shook off my hands and rolled to her hands and
knees. The blood simply poured out of her. Her belly was lacerated,
her arms stripped to ribbons. There was a gash on her neck and a
great hunk of hair hung at a completely wrong angle, falling from a
flap of skin torn loose from her skull.

My guts
lurched in panic. She’d never been this beat up before. The smaller
scrapes and scratches on her legs, showing through big tears in her
leather pants, should have been healing up as I watched, but they
just oozed pale vampire blood.

“Jesus,
Merce,” I whispered and reached for her again.

She snapped at
my hands, a low, rumbling snarl starting deep in her throat. Her
eyes were opaque silver, so far gone into pain and hunger she
wouldn’t come back until someone was drained dry.

With effort,
Mercy got to her feet. I rose with her, slow and cautious. In this
state of mindlessness, she could very well come at me. Or worse,
Erin. And it was on the still prone woman the predator gaze landed.
I stepped between them.

Mercy growled,
but before she could do anything more, the wolf responded to
it.

Fuck! Didn’t
that thing know when it was beaten?

Not about to
let the challenge go unanswered, Mercy spun and staggered over to
it. She swayed horribly but managed to get around behind the fallen
beast. It lifted its head to snarl at her. Lips peeled back in a
silent response, Mercy just put a foot in the middle of its back
and grabbed neck and tail in each hand. With a violent, sharp jerk,
she broke the animal’s back. But she wasn’t done yet. Even wonkier
on her feet, she trundled over to where the broken cross bar had
fallen. She came back with it, grim determination on her face.
Straddling the wolf’s broken body, she put that steel pipe through
its eye and brain and pinned its head to the ground. It gave a
final, futile lurch and died.

Then Mercy
collapsed on top of it.

I rolled Mercy off the dead animal
and cradled her in my arms. Her blood had stopped flowing, so I
wasn’t in danger, but I would have preferred it if I were. I didn’t
know if the lack of leaking meant her feeble clotting powers had
kicked in or if she’d simply bled dry. Pressing a hand between her
torn breasts didn’t get me a heartbeat. A desperate search on the
side of her neck not hanging wide open came up skint for a
pulse.

Fuck. Shit.
Damn. Fuck.

“Come on,
Mercy,” I prayed. “This pansy little dog is not going to beat you.
Come on.”

Her eyelids
fluttered and I almost screamed for joy.

“Mercy, it’s
Matt. Time to wake up.” It was silly and desperate, but it
worked.

One eyelid
rolled back and her dark, glazed eye stared up at me.

There was
time. Right then, I didn’t care what the wrong blood group would do
to her, so long as she got something. I tore at the sleeve of my
shirt with my teeth, trying to expose my tender, inner wrist.