Chapter 17
Power crackles in every part of me. I’m completely healed without a trace of pain anywhere. And I know in my bones I have what I need to do this.
I’m ready.
I slide out of Rafa, finally softening, and his heat is replaced with the kiss of cool room air.
I gently clean our bodies with the discarded towel he’d used for his hair, and the scrape of the fabric’s nap against my skin makes my enhanced nerves buzz.
Rafa drifts asleep somewhere in the middle of my caretaking, a satisfied smile on his lips.
There’s no longer the bridge of desire between us, but still, I wish I could stay. Not because I’m afraid of what’s next, but because I’d love to be close to him just a bit longer. But that world-ending ritual certainly isn’t going to wait just so I can have a moment.
I carefully climb out of the bed and go to grab yet another shower (at this point, I’ve honestly lost count!) before I shove myself back into my vampire-fighting club clothes.
Even though what Rafa and I just did felt like a year’s worth of intense, in reality, it only took about a half hour.
It’s just 7:47 p.m. according to my stove clock.
Full dark outside, but enough time to stop Valiente.
Enough time to save the day.
I check in on Rafa one last time before I go. Poking my head into the bedroom, I try not to wake him, but he still opens his eyes. His expression is serene.
“You’re heading out?” he asks.
“Yeah.” I keep my voice neutral and try my best to appear calm and confident. The way I expect he would be, if he wanted to reassure me that everything was going to be okay.
He nods, focusing on my face with tired eyes. I can tell he wants to come with me, but we’ve already been over how that would be a bad idea—for a lot of reasons. Then he props up a little on his elbows.
“That thing is not my father, Alvin,” he says, calmly.
My eyebrows shoot up at that non sequitur.
His smile is gentle. “I know you’ll worry about that.
And I’m not going to lie, I really want him back.
He was my whole world.” The memory fills his expression with warmth.
“My abuelo sent him to a fancy prep school, hoping to get him out of the life. And sometimes he would sound like a college professor.” Rafa’s face darkens, just slightly.
“But the way that creature spoke, like some sick criminal mastermind… And what it did, to those kids. To me. He would never. Not ever.” He locks eyes with mine.
“I don’t know what’s inside his body now, but my father died years ago, and that thing killed him.
So, I don’t want you to hesitate. Not for either of them. ”
“Rafa…” I’m not sure what I’m going to say next, but these were his parents, and he loved them. (And I guess I am still holding on to this weird hope that at least one of them could be saved. Maybe his mom?)
“Alvin, whatever the sex did, my head is clearer now than it’s ever been.
You are such a gentle guy.” He chuckles slightly.
“Yeah, even innocent. And those things are monsters. Real monsters.” He narrows his eyes.
“Promise that while you’re there, you won’t second-guess yourself because of me.
And that if you get the chance, you will kill them. ”
I frown, and he repeats himself.
“Alvin, promise.”
His gaze is so piercing, he’s so sure, I nod.
He sighs and relaxes back into his pillow. “Good. That was the only thing. You’re going to stop those godforsaken parasites, once and for all. I know it.” His eyes close, and his voice fades into a drowsy mumble. “I’ve never met anyone so strong.”
I struggle for some kind of response to that, but it turns out I don’t need one, because he slips immediately back to sleep. Peaceful and relaxed.
Even with the boost I got, there’s no way I can match his confidence, wherever it’s coming from. But I can make another promise, this time to myself:
I’m not going to let him down. I’m not going to let anyone down.
I don’t spare any speed racing to the Benevolent Society.
Testing out my juiced-up muscles, I must hit seventy miles an hour on the sidewalks, sneaker treads barely gripping the concrete as I scream forward.
It’s night. A few more people are out, but I duck around them so fast, there’s no way I’m going to wind up on someone’s social media feed.
And when I get to the side street with the hulking Benevolent Society building, there’s no one in sight anywhere, even though it’s not that late.
A wrongness fills the air here: the astringent tang of wicked magic with an undertone of ozone. Strong enough to keep even the normals away. The ritual has already started.
With any luck, that’ll mean Valiente won’t be able to threaten the kids, because he’ll need them. But I’ve got to stop this, no matter what. I’ve got to be prepared to make hard choices.
The massive wooden door to the Gothic building has been propped back up from the inside, but the hinges are still broken. My enhanced strength lets me easily pull it aside without dropping it, and my night vision reveals that the marble foyer inside is empty.
The whole space is completely still. No one is lying in wait for me or anyone else.
Collin did say most of the vampires were dead, and I dispatched even more on the way out.
All the same, experience has shown I’m not the most observant guy in the world, so I give the cavernous room another more intense look over once I’m through the door.
That’s when I see it. A crumpled, lump-like body by the elevator.
Keeping alert, I hustle over with my head low and take a knee. It’s the security guard from before. His face is pale and drawn, his weathered eyes wide and lifeless. There’s a large, jagged tear in his neck. It’s dry. He’s been completely exsanguinated.
Just a couple days ago, finding something like this would have terrified me. I couldn’t get away from vampires fast enough. But seeing this man, who apparently was just trying to keep his family safe, killed and discarded like a crumpled-up junk food wrapper—it doesn’t scare me.
It makes me angry.
Some of that has to be coming from what I had been calling my monster. I’m not being seduced by it or anything, but there is definitely a more aggressive, determined part of me sharpening my thoughts.
I deliberately lean into its fire, because I am done running.
I get to my feet and stalk toward the back hallway, the one that will lead me to the sub-basements, until I get to the stairwell.
Through the door’s rectangular wired-glass window, I see that the steps beyond have been loaded up with office furniture.
There are a couple of gray filing cabinets set at a steep angle against the other side of the door, and they’re weighed down by a massive black vending machine, a metal office desk, and a bunch of office electronics.
I wouldn’t be surprised if there weren’t a similar barricade over the trap door in the storage room downstairs. And even if there isn’t, I don’t want to waste the time crawling through the sewers to find out. Valiente obviously wants any intruders to take the elevator, hoping to trap them.
A blockade like this would probably be enough to keep vampires out, even with their paranormal strength—or at least slow their roll significantly. But I’m a lot more special than they are right now. And since I’m already in the very limited window to free Collin, there’s no time to waste.
I bring my knee up high and slam my heel against the steel door with all I’ve got.
It rips off its hinges and there’s so much momentum, the bulky furniture and equipment behind it go crashing down the stairwell.
The chain reaction echoes out a rapid succession of thunderous bangs, each one louder than the last. If they didn’t know I was coming before, they do now, so I don’t hesitate to leap from the top of the stairs to the first landing, right onto the avalanche of office crap I created.
I’m crazy fast, super-strong, and have supernatural balance. What I don’t have is experience, so I use way too much oomph and continue flying forward after touchdown. I smack my shoulder against the far wall. Hard.
Trying to recover, I scramble my feet under me, which dislodges a printer and a fax machine, sending them tumbling down the next stairwell. Meanwhile, my ass falls back onto the side of the large metal desk with a loud thud.
Ow.
Okay. Not the best start. But I keep going.
The steps underneath are completely covered in file folders, staplers, office trash, and some smaller boxes from the storeroom.
Super annoying, and these trip hazards might bog someone else down, but not me.
Not right now. I choose to skip the stairs altogether.
I bounce against the side wall, Matrix-style, to jump down to the next landing.
And this time I nail it, barely skidding on the loose Christian magazines laid out on the floor.
The doorway at the bottom of the stairwell is still wide-open from when I blasted through it the last time, so I leap the same way against the next side wall, land solidly right in front of the opening at the bottom—
—and that’s when the bullets start flying.
The constricted entrance serves as a perfect choke point, and three Hunter-vampires crouched behind an overturned desk have set up an ambush in the hallway outside. The first two shots hit the edge of my shoulder and the outside of my thigh. Those might not have stopped me.
But the third rips straight into my chest.
The whole thing feels like it happens in slow motion.
I hear the crack of the weapon, and a moment later, something hard and fast punches into my breastbone, which causes me to crumple backwards.
Under the wound, a searing, white-hot sensation blooms out.
It collapses into a tight, crushing fist inside me, just before my shoulder blades slam against the ground.
I lose all my breath in the impact with the floor, and when I try to inhale, there’s only a high-pitched wheezing that fills me with nothing.
I reflexively start to cough and am rewarded with sharp, stabbing pain and a metallic taste up the back of my throat. (That would be my blood.)
An old boxer famously said, “Everyone has a plan until they get punched in the mouth.”
I’ve just been shot through my right lung.