Raising Innocence (21 page)

Swing after swing of my swords and the snatch and decapitate technique Alex was employing brought us to the main doors. A peek inside showed that while there were still zombies, there weren’t as many. Maybe thirty in the main room, not too bad at all. I used the back of my hand to wipe my forehead.

Pamela pointed. “They’re coming up the stairs.”

So they were. What kind of game was the Necromancer playing now?

A flicker of movement and the sense that someone was behind me was the only warning I got. I tried to dodge out of the zombie’s hands, but he was a big bastard, with mitts almost as big as Alex’s paws—mitts that pinned my arms to my sides, making my swords pretty much useless.

“Get the fuck off me!” I flung my body to the side and jerked him off balance, but he didn’t let go, not even an inch.

“You will leave my master alone,” he slurred out, his voice a drunken monotone.

I froze, pulled myself together, and answered. “Nope, not until he stops taking kids. He’s a perverted freak of nature.”

The zombie roared, and I knew that the Necromancer was hearing what I said. Good.

“I’m coming for you asshole!” My blood surged, adrenaline pounding through my body even if my arms were pinned. I kicked at the zombie, taking out one of his knees. A second kick blasted out the other kneecap, jagged edges of bone poking out of the ripped flesh. Still he hung on.

The zombie reared back and then his head shot forward, teeth slamming into my lower back just above my hip. Without my leather jacket, he burrowed his face into my flesh like a dog with a bone. The bite and the force behind it sent us both stumbling in through the main doors.

I couldn’t stop the scream that ripped out of me. Alex tackled the big zombie, but the rotter’s teeth were still in me; a hunk of skin and flesh went with the creature. Snarling and twisting, Alex tore the zombie’s head off. I was on my hands and knees, shaking with pain; a quick glance back at my hip made me turn my head away.

The wound was bad. Blood poured out and down my leg, and around my belly. The remaining zombies paused what they were doing and lifted their heads. That much is true about rotters—they love the smell of fresh blood. Like a school of dumb sharks, blood drew them as nothing else would.

I was so fucked.

“Pamela, you need to stop them.” I fumbled to get my shirt off. I had to stuff the bite wound with something, anything to staunch the flow of blood. The straps from my sword sheaths got in my way and I fought with them, panicking.

Pale, Pamela nodded, then whipped her arms outward, flicking all ten fingers. The remaining zombies flew backwards faster than I could blink and smashed against the concrete walls. Pinned there with her magic, they groaned and mumbled, but didn’t fight overly much.

Standing, I locked my knees to keep from tumbling over. This was a bad injury, the zombie must have hit an artery because I was feeling rather faint. . . that was the last thought I had as the room swirled and the darkness claimed me.

Of course, it was just my luck it wasn’t a blissful, quiet darkness. No . . . I had to open my eyes to see Faris leaning over me.

“Zombies? Really, so cliché,” he said, smiling like it was a joke that I should get.

Whatever. “Tell that to the Necromancer,” I grunted, pushing him away, my hand flat against his chest. Instead, he put his hand over mine and yanked me to my feet, still hanging onto me.

It briefly crossed my mind that every time I ran into Faris, or more accurately, he ran into me, I was less afraid of him. That probably wasn’t a good thing, I was getting comfortable with the vampire. No, definitely not a good thing at all.

He continued to hold my hand, and softened his voice. “I need your help, Rylee. You saw my memory. You see what I’m up against. I want to keep the vampire nation as it is. Out of sight. As it should be.”

I pulled at my hand, but he only tightened his grip. “Yeah, I saw what you saw. But memories can be tricky. It’s all about perception.”

“And what is your perception of me?” One finger trailed along the top of my hand, down around to the underside of my wrist and back up again.

I refused to acknowledge the more than pleasant tingle it gave me. Fucking refused.

It took everything I had to keep my heart rate under control. “That you are a master manipulator. Like all vampires.”

His eyebrows went up. “All vampires? And how many of us have you met?”

I shrugged. “Doesn’t matter, it’s the same thing as any other species in the supernatural world. We have our quirks, each of us. Vampires are manipulators, that’s a given. It’s how I’d Track them if I had to.”

Faris’ eyes narrowed. “How enlightening.”

Oh shit, I should never have opened my big fat mouth. Faris hadn’t known I could Track more than individuals. I shook my head in an effort to cover my big ass blunder. “Just pointing out the obvious.” But my heart betrayed me, thrumming like it was in a freaking rock band.

The vampire smiled at me. “I’m glad Jack Feen is teaching you. I need you at your best. Which, I suppose, must mean that I need to heal up that nasty bite for you.”

Before I could protest, his free hand slipped around my waist, covering my hip where the bite was on my physical body. That wasn’t too bad. But the moment his lips covered mine and the little groan of pleasure slipped out of my mouth, horror hit me.

I was willingly kissing a vampire when I was in love with Liam.

Faris jerked back as if I’d stung him. “You would think of him, while I kiss you?”

The rage was not expected. Nor was what he said next as he strode away into the darkness.

“She is mine, wolf. One way or another. Rylee is mine.”

I
shot straight up, gasping for air as if I’d been—

Pamela grabbed me in a fierce hug. “You weren’t breathing, there was so much blood.”

Everything around me moved as if on high speed, people rushing, paper crinkling, all my senses were in overdrive. The scent of blood and rot overwhelmed my nose and I covered my face. I knew I had to get up and move, this was—

I was standing. How the hell had that happened? Chills swept through me and the taste of Faris’ kiss trickled through my mouth. Fuck, he’d imprinted me.

Pamela was talking to me, tugging on my arm, Alex stared at me, his eyes wide and worried. All I could hear was the beat of their respective hearts. Pamela’s was wild and erratic in her fear, Alex’s beat slow as his body continued to heal as best it could.

“Just give me a minute,” I said, waving them off. The zombie situation was more or less under control; however long I’d been out had been enough for the cops to get their asses in gear.

It took an effort to walk slowly, to make my legs move at a normal pace. From what I understood, this would last a short time—how short I didn’t know for sure. And then it would fade and I’d be back to my regular self, whenever the hell that was going to be.

The bathroom was empty but for one zombie who I promptly slid my sword through, removing its head with a slurping pop. I leaned against the sink and stared into the mirror, watching my breath fog it up. My eyes were still my own, a swirl of chocolate, emerald and gold.

Imprinting was how vampires bound their subjects to them. Blood on blood was how it was done, and it was the first step in making someone a vampire. Which meant the vampire’s bite was like a poison, something my Immunity blocked. As I stared into the mirror, my hearing settled down, the smells I shouldn’t have been able to smell faded.

Fuck me, I’d thought I was in trouble for a minute. I pulled the edge of my shirt down and traced the black snowflake etched into my skin on my chest bone. Demon venom had nearly done me in, the first time my Immunity hadn’t protected me completely. Mind you, I’d been able to keep the world from spiralling into an ice age, so I suppose that was something. But the thought that my Immunity wasn’t up to snuff again . . . I wasn’t sure I liked that. So it was a relief to feel the imprinting fade and slowly slough off.

Letting out a deep, shaky breath, I turned and made my way back to the main room. Pamela and Alex sat where my desk had been. The whole place looked like a typhoon had ripped through, followed by a Giant on a mating quest. Nothing was left untouched, people included.

There were a few officers that had been bitten, and I could see it in their faces, the fear that they would be turned into zombies.

“Oh, get the fuck over it,” I snapped. “You watch too many stupid B-rated movies and you think you understand the supernatural? Fuck. You have to be DEAD to become a zombie.”

I shook my head as I walked through the room. “What a bunch of idiots.” I looked over the different zombies. Male, female, the only thing was there were no kids, just adults. All of them were way far gone, like they’d been zombies for a long time. Maybe the Necromancer was hoarding zombies. I gave a full body shiver at the thought.

On the far side of the room the one who’d grabbed and bitten me was still twitching; they’d do that for hours even with their heads lopped off. Kind of like chickens.

I put a hand on Pamela’s shoulder. “You did good. Are you okay?”

She nodded. “Yes, but . . . I heard the police. They said that these were people once.”

My eyes closed of their own volition as I tried to put this as delicately as possible. She was, after all, a kid still.

“Yeah, once. But not anymore. Whatever made them human fled when they died and then were raised by the Necromancer.”

Her blonde eyebrows dipped in consternation. “You mean it’s okay to kill them?”

“Yup. I’m going to encourage it. It’s good practice.” I was about to do something that any parent organization, foster care system, and every god damn therapist would have been screaming about. I slid my sword from its sheath off my back.

“Here, take this.” I handed it to Pamela, who took it awkwardly, her eyes widening.

“What do I need this for?”

I pulled the other sword, walked over to the closest zombie and did the most basic of slashes, removing its left arm. I lifted my eyes to hers.

“Practice. Go around, cut off all the limbs and heads you can. Before every slash, check to make sure there is no one close to you.”

She caught her lower lip in her teeth and I saw her pull her back straight. One day she would be strong enough to live in this world. If I could keep her alive.

Agent Valley came stomping in about the time that Pamela took off her first limb. With a squeal of excitement, she spun toward me, gore sliding down the blade.

“I got it!”

“Good job, now keep going.”

With a wide smile on her face, she gave me a thumbs up.

“But keep your mouth shut, zombies taste like shit.”

Her lips clamped together, but her eyes sparkled. That was just another difference between humans and supernaturals. We thrived on magic, weapons and blood; it was in our essence.

The FBI agent stood in front of me, and I pointedly ignored him, watching Pamela as she hacked away.

“She’s making a bigger mess than we need,” he said.

“She’s got good natural movement. One day she’ll kick my ass with a sword if she keeps up the practice.”

Agent Valley grabbed my shoulder, his fingers gripping hard, pinching a nerve.

“Is this a game to you? You run off with one of the officers, kidnap a foster kid while you’re at it, and then to top it off, you piss off some Necromancer so badly he sends a small army to wipe us out via our own basement?” He wasn’t yelling; his voice was soft and intense.

I gave him my best bitch eyes. “Let go of my arm before I have Pamela remove it for you.” His hand slowly dropped, and I dusted off my shoulder. “It’s not a game. But until you realize that things can’t be done within the confines of your rules, things will seem out of control and I won’t tell you what’s going on.”

Jaw flexing, that tell-tale vein throbbed along his neck. “You need to catch this bastard. Now.”

“Are you giving me free rein?”

Boy, I couldn’t wait to hear his answer.

He struggled, his facial muscles twitching, hands giving a slight tremor. Finally, he managed to say it. “You have free rein. Take who you need, but make it fast. Interpol isn’t happy with you—”

“Well, there’s a surprise,” I muttered.

“And they want you gone. As in yesterday. They think they have enough information to take this guy down themselves.”

There was a commotion at the door and we stopped talking to stare as Will limped in, aided by his sister.

“Feels a bit like a bad joke,” I said. “A shape shifter and Druid walk into a police station recently molested by zombies.”

Agent Valley snorted. “You forgot the part about the witch child hacking off zombie limbs with a sword.”

I leaned back and laughed. “You have potential, Agent Valley. This is my life. Welcome to it.”

He stepped closer to me, his face serious. “What do you need to make this happen?”

Lips tight, I dropped my chin to my chest, thinking. I had the Druid I would need to block the Necromancer’s exit. I had a witch at my back and two shifters that would go with me, regardless of whether or not they were one hundred percent.

But there was still that niggling piece of doubt in the back of my mind, courtesy of O’Shea. If I’d never worked with him, I never would have started to question the ‘why’ of things. The easy thing to assume was that the Necromancer was a pervert, was using the children’s bodies for things I’d rather not think about. But that didn’t explain the way the house had been set up, as if the kids were well cared for, even in death.

“Where’s Kyle?”

Agent Valley looked over his shoulder. “In the back office, pissing his pants the last time I checked.”

Giving Agent Valley a nod, I strode past him, heading to the office I’d first been interrogated in. Excuse me, introduced to the ‘team.’

I didn’t knock on the door, just walked right in, startling Kyle. He shot out of his seat, his face pale, eyes so wide they looked like he might have been doing drugs if I didn’t know better.

“Are the zombies dead?”

“Yes. Are you done crapping your pants?” I leaned against the table and smiled at him. He blanched even more. Good. He had a long way to go before he got back in my good books. “You need to get on your little computer and pull up some files for me.”