Stormwind (The Storm Chronicles Book 3) (14 page)

Knowing she was burning blood, Raven ran down the corridor and up the stairs, changing magazines as she moved. She could see heat on the other side of the door and didn’t bother to slow. She slammed into the door, her strength and speed crushing the man on the other side of the door against the wall. She turned and pulled his broken body free, using him as a bullet sponge for two more men further down the hall who opened up on her with their AK-47’s. Her meat shield jerked and screamed in her grip as the high-velocity bullets turned his flesh into so much hamburger.

When the two gangers paused to reload she tossed the body aside and fired, killing one man with shots to the head and chest and crippling the second with wounds to both kneecaps. As he fell, Raven blinked and let the world go back to normal. Gasping she sagged against the wall and tried to catch her breath. She ejected the half-empty magazine from her pistol and replaced it with a fresh one.

Forcing herself to breathe normally she holstered her weapon and walked toward the injured ganger.

“How many men are upstairs?” she asked.

“My knees, you bitch!” the man moaned.

“Yeah, your knees,” Raven said, kicking the man’s gun away and squatting next to him. “It could be worse. You could be like your buddy there with a bullet lodged in your skull or like that other guy. He looks like 180 pounds of hamburger. Now, how many more of you are upstairs?”

The man glared at Raven with pain-fogged eyes. Raven pulled the knife from his belt and held it over one of his shattered kneecaps. “Last chance. How many?”

The ganger looked at the knife and paled. “Eight, including Stein.”

“Stein? Is that your leader?”

The man nodded, still staring at the knife.

“Thank you.”

Raven stabbed the knife through the man’s leather jacket, pinning him to the floor. She then picked up his fallen Glock, replacing the magazine with a fresh one from his belt. “You’re under arrest. Don’t try to go anywhere. You won’t get far anyway.”

She stood and moved toward the stairs feeling her body weaken. She wiped someone’s blood from her face and licked it off, ignoring the taste. She then walked up the stairs. She took them slowly, knowing at least some of the gangers would be lying in wait. She turned when she reached the landing and leaned sideways to look up the stairs. Two men opened fire from the top causing her to duck away from a hail of bullets and put one arm up to protect her eyes from the sparks the slugs kicked up.

When the bullet storm ended she vaulted the railing and opened fire with the borrowed Glock. The nine millimeter bullets weren’t nearly as powerful as the Automag’s cartridges, but they did the job, knocking both gunmen back. Raven emptied the Glock into the two men, double-tapping each in the head and chest before charging past their falling bodies onto the sixth floor.

This floor was almost completely rebuilt with only the balcony area left open to the elements. Several doors opened into bedrooms on either side of the corridor and an old common area had been converted into a kitchen with a rickety stovepipe exiting through the ceiling.

Gang signs Raven didn’t recognize were painted all over the walls and Raven couldn’t help pausing and tracing one with her fingertips. It looked like something off a child’s Frankenberry box.

A bullet bounced off the wall by her hand and she came back to reality, ducking behind a section of wall. Two of the men on the balcony were shooting in her direction while the other two continued to fire at the police below. That left one other man and the mysterious Stein hiding somewhere.

Raven popped from cover and the Automag barked twice. One of the men clutched at the two holes in his chest and pitched over the edge of the balcony to fall screaming to the pavement below. Raven ducked back just as a series of shots chewed up her cover. Pain screamed through her right shoulder and she dropped to the floor, gasping in surprise from the 7.62 bullet that had passed through the muscle and embedded itself in the opposite wall.

Gritting her teeth at the dull pain, Raven switched the Automag to her left hand. The weapon was as comfortable there as in her right. When the chatter of automatic gunfire paused again she rolled sideways firing the Automag until it clicked empty. When she hit the wall on the opposite side of the wide corridor the last of the gunmen were dead or dying, .30 carbine slugs piercing their chests and heads. Two more had fallen into the street below while the third lay in an awkward position on top of his AK.

Raven climbed to her knees and put her last fresh magazine into her pistol. These were some of Thad’s specials; she hated to waste them on regular humans, but hated getting shot even more.

When she was ready she straightened and moved down the corridor, precious blood running down her right arm. She checked the rooms on either side as she moved, searching for the last man and enigmatic Stein. She was halfway down the bullet-riddled hallway when an arm slammed through the gypsum wall on her right and punched her in the side of the head. She staggered sideways and fell on her rear, the Automag dropping from numb fingers. Ahead of her there was a loud crash and the person attached to the arm pushed through the wall. He wiped plaster dust from his leathers and Raven looked up into the face of someone who looked like Frankenstein’s monster, Adam. Stitches crisscrossed his face and bare arms, each piece of skin a different color than the rest of him. A cigar dangled from his lips, drooling smoke and burning plaster dust.

“You’ve gotta be kidding me,” Raven said. “Stein, I presume?”

“In the flesh, lady,” Stein replied, his voice like the rumble of distant thunder.

“I’m Detective Raven Storm. Pleased to meet you,” Raven replied in a cool voice. “You’re under arrest for assault with a deadly weapon, attempted murder, possession of illegal firearms and probably about seventeen other infractions I don’t feel like thinking about. Lay down on the floor and put your hands behind your back.”

“You’re funny, little detective,” Stein said, balling up his massive fists. “You killed my crew and screwed up a well-paying contract, now I’m going to kill you. When I’m done maybe I’ll add your nice soft skin to my arm.”

“I didn’t kill all of them,” Raven said. “Some of them just got beaten unconscious. I’d rather not have to kill you and carry you out of here. What do you weigh, like three tons?”

Stein stepped forward, dust falling off his flattened head. “You should be a comedienne not a cop. It’s a pity you have to die, you’d be badass on my new crew.”

“Now look who’s being funny,” Raven said. “Don’t let the leather fool you. I just find it to be comfortable and well-wearing. I think everyone will be wearing it in the future.”

“I’ll give it to my old lady then,” Stein said.

Raven smirked. “Yeah, I’m sure it will go well with her beehive hair.”

Stein snarled at Raven, reaching back to rip a two by four out of the wall he’d destroyed. When he turned back, Raven’s boot caught him in the stomach. He grunted and lost his footing, falling back into the wall. Raven leapt to her feet, the wound in her shoulder healed. She followed the kick with a back spin punch to Stein’s face and a side kick to his ribs that did little more than make him snort. He straightened and swung his two by four like Babe Ruth going for the wall. Raven tried to block the swing and felt something in her arm break along with the wood. She bit back the pain and danced out of Stein’s way. Across from her Stein examined his broken club then tossed it aside.

“You’re tougher than you look, Detective,” Stein said. “That should have shattered your arm.”

Raven turned sideways, keeping her shattered arm away from the muscular man. “It was just a little wood. I got worse canings in Catholic school. If that’s the best you can do you may as well cuff yourself now.”

Stein growled and strode forward, his scarred fists swinging. Raven ducked and blocked as best she could, backing toward the balcony. With each blow that landed her left arm screamed in agony and the room swam. She knew her system was trying to heal the damage, but she simply didn’t have the blood-energy left. It was all she could do to remain conscious and keep fighting.

“Are you going to fall down?” Stein said, swinging another haymaker at Raven’s head. “You don’t look so good.”

Raven grinned with all the bravado she could muster. “It’s just something I caught from one of your goons. I’ve got all the time in the world, so why don’t you give up while you have a chance?”

Stein laughed and kept swinging. His method wasn’t skilled or even varied. He simply punched with as much force as possible. It was a tactic that was wearing on the already wounded Raven.

Raven danced back again and spun a kick at Stein’s head, more to get a look behind her than anything. Stein grunted at the impact and spat out a tooth, but kept coming, his approach causing Raven to dance back again. She could feel her left arm tingling and knew it had healed enough she could at least use it. She shifted her feet and gauged Stein’s lumbering approach. As he stepped again and prepared another powerful punch, Raven did a handstand and wrapped her legs around the giant man’s neck, pulling him off balance. She then used her momentum to swing between his legs to land behind him. She did a handspring to her feet and kicked Stein in the back, making him stagger and fall forward. He caught himself in the debris at the edge of the balcony and started to push himself back up.

Raven wasn’t having any. She ran up his back and off the edge of the balcony, spinning so that she caught Stein’s head with both hands. Her falling weight snapped his neck like a pencil and she hung there, watching the life ebb from his eyes.

She was struggling to pull herself back up when Levac appeared on the balcony. He reached down and pulled her up by her good arm, helping her to sit on the porch out of view of the SWAT team and approaching officers.

“Thanks, Rupe,” Raven said, surprised how weak she sounded. “How’s the rookie?”

“I think he’s going to make it. SWAT helped him get to an ambulance while you had these guys distracted,” Levac replied. “He went through a lot of your blood supply before they got here, though.”

“Good,” Raven said, holding her head with one hand.

Levac pulled something out of one of his pockets and held it out with a grin. “I managed to save one of your favorite vintage, though.”

Raven opened her eyes and looked at the pouch of blood. Nothing had ever looked as tasty in her life. She took the pouch gratefully and bit into it, draining the contents in just a few swallows. She spat out the last bit and coughed. By the time she got to the last of the blood her brain had reminded her what she was doing and the disgusting taste came back with a vengeance.

“There is no way I am ever going to get used to that,” she said, leaning back.

Levac laughed and sat next to her. “Look at it from my perspective. I have to watch you. How am I supposed to get used to a partner that can punch through walls and drinks blood?”

Raven giggled and kissed Levac’s cheek. “With many years of practice, Rupe. Many years of practice. Come on, help me get out of this dump before SWAT and the paramedics get here. I’m in no mood for an exam.”

FIVE HOURS LATER, THE CITY was bathed in gray overcast twilight. Rain clouds hung low over the city and the west wind had turned cold, making the city seem dark and unforgiving.

Raven parked the Shelby on the street down the block from Club Black. She’d taken the time to get cleaned up and change into a fresh pair of leather pants, layered tank and her treasured black leather jacket. She’d added an electric green scarf that matched her eyes and let her fury-red hair spill down her back in a waterfall of color.

She’d also been forced, under much protest, to get a check-up and fill out a full report on the Scorched Earth incident. SWAT had found sixteen kilos of Thirst along with several bottles of animal sedative and a dart rifle of the kind used by zoos and nature preserves to subdue wild animals. The Thirst alone was enough, in Raven’s mind, to warrant Stein and his crew’s decimation, but the captain and IA didn’t quite see things that way. Raven had a feeling, though, that there was more to that story than they knew. It was nagging at her like something caught in a tooth. What had they needed a tranq rifle for and what had Stein meant about a contract?

She and Levac entered Club Black and headed into the bar. An odd scent made Raven turn her head; a well-dressed man in a black suit and turtleneck, black hair slicked away from his temples and a hint of five-o‘clock shadow was watching her, his sapphire eyes locked on hers. He raised a glass of scotch in Raven’s direction, a gesture that made her even more curious. She nodded back and continued toward the walk-in humidor.

As before, the room smelled of expensive tobacco and leather. A handful of men in suits were selecting cigars from the cases with the assistance of Josef Diarmait, who was wearing a dark suit minus the jacket, his grey shirt-sleeves held in place with red garters. He smiled at Raven and Levac, but continued to assist his customers.  Raven and Levac browsed the shelves while they waited, taking turns watching Diarmait. When the last of the men had left, Raven approached the counter while Levac locked the door.

“That was ominous, Detective,” Diarmait said.

“We just don’t want to be disturbed,” Raven replied. “I have a few more questions about the Franks case for you.”