“Go ahead and take her,” Rico said over the top of his Sig Sauer. “Let’s see how far you get.”
Jerry and the other surviving Nymar launched themselves at the Skinners with their arms outstretched. Cole braced himself to impale whichever got to him first, but Rico unleashed a quick series of shots that caught the straw-haired Nymar before she got within the spear’s range. The bullet ripped through her upper torso, spinning her around to land awkwardly on her side.
“Oh my Lord!” the bus driver said amid the thunder of gunfire.
A police car rounded a corner, prompting the Nymar to scatter. Even the straw-haired one clamped a hand over her bullet wound and left Jerry on the street behind her. Rico took aim at him, but Jerry sprang up and twisted around so he could land on the soles of his stained shoes and rush forward.
“Oh my…” It was all the bus driver could get out before Jerry darted past him in a hissing blur. “…Lord!”
Cole reacted out of pure instinct, charging at Jerry before Rico could be cut by those claws. His spear ground against Jerry’s shoulder blade, but it didn’t keep the Nymar from twisting around to swipe at his neck. After deflecting the attack, Cole raked the forked end of his weapon up along Jerry’s midsection. The Nymar recoiled from the spear and bolted for the same alley his straw-haired partner had used for an escape route.
With Jerry gone, Cole was left with nothing but his aching bones and a big pointed stick. He stood in the growing glow of red and blue police lights next to an ugly guy with a gun, a terrified bus driver, and the most attractive redhead he’d ever laid eyes on. The bus was banged up but seemed ready to be driven away. The Cav, however, wasn’t in very good shape.
“We gotta get out of here!” Cole said frantically. “The car’s engine is still running, so maybe we could drive it away.”
Rico tossed his gun through the shattered rear window and said, “Great. You think we can get moving fast enough to outrun those cops?”
The police car was already slowing down to approach the intersection.
“Maybe if you can hold them off, I could get her rolling again,” Cole offered.
“You want me to shoot to kill or should I just hit their tires before they drop us both?” Rico asked.
“God damn it, you’re the one that started shooting!”
“Yeah, but I’m not about to shoot a cop.”
“We heard gunfire!” one of the officers said as he exited his vehicle and approached the Cav with his hand on his pistol. “What happened here?”
Cole’s eyes immediately went to the remains of the Cav’s windshield. The Nymar’s oily blood was still there, but it had already hardened into a thick crust.
“That big one…he’s got…got a gun,” the bus driver stammered. “I saw him toss it into that car.”
“I got a license for that,” Rico calmly announced.
The cop keyed the radio clipped to his shoulder and requested backup. Then he asked, “Is anyone hurt?”
“He shot someone,” the bus driver said. “I saw it!”
That brought the cop’s gun from his holster. “Shot who? Sir? Who was shot?”
The bus driver took a step forward, but stopped when he got a look at the policeman’s weapon. “He was right there but…he ran away. There was another one that was stabbed with that stick, but he…ran…he ran away too.”
Looking back to Cole, the officer said, “Sir, put the stick down.”
Cole’s head was spinning. That condition became worse when he realized he was now the cop’s main target.
“Better do what he says,” Rico whispered.
“Sir, put the stick down right now!”
The lights from the police cruiser washed over the accident, painting the scene as well as everyone present in bright primary colors.
Sirens from the cop’s backup were now approaching from different parts of town.
The disintegrated remains of a vampire lay on the hood of his car, and blood from another creature was splattered across the street.
“Oh my Lord,” the bus driver sighed.
“Yeah,” Cole groaned as he dropped his spear and raised his hands. “You got that right.”
Chapter 10
“So,” Daniels said as he stepped into the two-story house on Kensington Avenue, “not all Skinners live like squatters?”
Ned’s house was covered in faded siding and a new roof. The lawn surrounding it was due for a mow, but wasn’t long enough to hide the old rainbow-shaped sprinkler connected to a vinyl hose. Inside, it smelled like dusty books and coffee. Some nice hardwood covered the floor, but was partially obscured by a collection of rugs that may very well have been collected from yard sales spanning the last several decades. The only place Daniels could look without seeing a bookshelf was straight up, but he couldn’t do that because of his chronic bouts of mild dizziness. He dragged several cases inside while perusing the shelves set up in the entryway.
“You don’t like my house?” Ned snapped.
Daniels shook his head and bent down to look at a complete series of demonic encyclopedias. “On the contrary! It beats the daylights out of an abandoned restaurant in Chicago.”
By the time Ned turned to look at Paige, she was already waiting for the inevitable. And, like a good piece of clockwork, Ned asked, “You’re still living in that restaurant?”
“Yes, Ned.”
“Don’t you know that Gerald only picked that spot as a place for an emergency? It was supposed to be a weapons store, nothing more than that.”
“I know,” Paige said. “But it’s got so much closet space and my very own industrial fridge. Do you know how many pizza boxes I can fit in there?”
The old man shook his head and shuffled through the living room to a staircase. “You got chemicals to work on?”
“Yes,” Daniels replied. “And a body to dissect. It’s in the car.”
Eager to get away for a moment, Paige chimed in with, “I’ll get it.”
“What are these?” Daniels asked as he pointed toward a set of symbols etched into the door frame. While examining one set of symbols, he found even more that were angular and precisely drawn around the door, with only the occasional break between them. “Is it some sort of language?”
“No,” Ned replied. “Don’t worry about those. And don’t mess with those jars. Just don’t open anything unless I say it’s all right. That goes for everyone!”
But Daniels couldn’t help following the symbols all the way around the door, along the ceiling, and eventually around a window frame.
Standing at the base of the stairs, Ned said, “I’m not working on your schedule, Nymar.”
Responding to the tone in the old man’s voice like a kid who’d just been called by his first, middle, and last name, Daniels hustled to follow Ned upstairs. He was taken to a small bedroom on the second floor that was at the opposite end of the hall from two larger rooms. Even though most of the room was taken up by several minifridges and narrow tables of equipment ranging from paint mixers to heat lamps, there was still a set of bookshelves wedged in on the wall adjacent to the door.
“There’s some plastic tarp in the closet,” Ned explained. “Throw that down before you drag any body in here. You’re not bringing anything toxic in here are you?”
“If there is anything contagious to be found, it’s way too late to worry about infection now,” Daniels said. “Are you equipped to run tests on biological material?”
“I’ve done plenty of work for Barnes-Jewish Hospital, so if there’s anything you need that I don’t have, just let me know and I’ll make some calls.”
“How about access to a portable CT scanner?”
“Do you really need that?”
“No,” Daniels chuckled as he displayed a droopy fang in a wide grin. “I was just pulling your leg.”
“Hilarious,” Ned grumbled.