Poison Promise

18

Bria, Catalina, and I raced toward my smashed-up car at this end of the bridge.

Crack!

Crack! Crack!

Crack! Crack! Crack!

The vampires kept firing, and bullets zipped through the air all around us. I kept my hold on my Stone magic, running directly behind Bria and Catalina and trying to use my body to screen them from the bullets as best I could.

Crack!

A bullet punched into the middle of my back. My vest caught it, but the hard, direct impact still made me stagger forward. My boots skidded through a patch of broken glass, and I had to windmill my arms to keep from falling flat on my ass. But I managed to regain my balance and keep going.

Catalina tried the passenger door of my car, but it wouldn’t budge, so she wrenched open the back door and threw herself inside. Bria followed her. I ran around and jumped into the driver’s seat. I’d left the engine running, so all I had to do was throw the car into gear, stomp down on the gas, and wrench the steering wheel.

The Aston fishtailed wildly at the sudden, sharp turn, with metal, glass, and more crunching under the tires, but I forced the wheel and the car in the direction I wanted to go—as far away from the vamps as I could get.

The street ahead was still deserted, probably on Benson’s orders, but that was actually going to help us now. The car straightened out, and the engine started humming as we picked up speed.

For a moment, I thought that we were actually going to make it.

Crack!

But then a bullet sliced through one of the rear tires, the air escaping with a sad sigh. Still, I put my foot down on the gas, trying to make it as far as I could on the deflating rubber. The car thump-thump-thumped along for about a block, before white sparks started flying up from the undercarriage. I steered the car over to the curb, stopped, and jammed the gearshift into park.

“Out, out, out!” I yelled.

I grabbed my duffel bag with its supplies from the front passenger seat, then kicked open the driver’s-side door again and got out. Bria and Catalina were already waiting on the street. Catalina was holding her hand to her forehead, blood trickling out between her fingers from a nasty cut. Blood covered Bria’s face, hands, and arms, but she had her gun out and pointed at the street behind us, watching our backs.

And with good reason.

Four vamps had made it to the end of the bridge and were running in our direction. They must have all had a pint or two of blood recently, because they were closing faster than Olympic sprinters racing toward the finish line.

But the charging men didn’t worry me as much as the SUVs did.

In the distance, at the far end of the bridge, I could see the remaining vamps opening doors and climbing into the vehicles. One of the SUVs lurched forward and rammed into Bria’s sedan, trying to push it out of the way and cross the bridge. The tires screech-screech-screeched as the other SUVs whipped into U-turns, probably heading to the next bridge over so they could zoom across it and come at us from that direction too. If they got ahead of us, they could cut us off, then wait for the vamps to come up from the rear and box us in. We needed to be out of here before that happened, or we were dead.

“Now what?” Catalina asked, her panicked gaze flicking back and forth from the vamps to Bria to me.

I hefted my duffel bag a little higher on my shoulder. “We run.”

I darted onto the sidewalk, with Catalina and Bria beside me, and raced toward the closest alley. Catalina glanced back over her shoulder, shoving her hair out of her face so she could see the men still chasing us. But she wasn’t watching where she was going, so she banged into a mailbox and stumbled forward several feet before she regained her balance.

“Don’t look back!” I yelled. “Just follow me!”

Catalina swiped some more blood off her face and gave me a quick, frightened nod.

I veered into the alley and zoomed over the cracked asphalt, darting around the overflowing Dumpsters, my boots sending crushed soda cans and crumpled paper bags skittering off in every direction. Behind me, I could hear Catalina’s and Bria’s footsteps smacking against the jagged pavement. I sucked in a breath and almost choked on the overwhelming stench of old take-out and other rotting garbage.

I reached the end of that alley and slowed down long enough to make sure that Benson and his SUVs full of vamps hadn’t reached this area yet. But the street was clear, so I darted across it and turned into the next alley we came to in order to lose the men chasing us on foot. Catalina followed me, with Bria watching our backs.

We ran out the far side of that second alley, and the landscape shifted, as though we’d stepped into a completely different world. Gone were the brick storefronts and smooth sidewalks that lined the street near the river. In their places stood dilapidated row houses, potholes big enough to blow out your tires, and yards covered with more trash than grass. Many of the houses had been tagged with rune graffiti that flowed across the cinder-block walls, down the cracked concrete steps, and out onto the sidewalks and the street beyond. The red and black smears of spray paint ringed the potholes like crooked streaks of lipstick.

At first glance, the area seemed deserted. No one was strolling down the sidewalks. No kids were playing with toys in the yards. No old folks were sitting on their front stoops, shooting the breeze and sipping glasses of iced tea. But all around me, the stone of everything from the street to the sidewalks to the houses whispered of the danger, despair, and desperation of the people who called this place home.

This was the heart of Southtown.

It was also the worst possible place for us to be right now, since it was deep in Benson’s territory.

My footsteps slowed as I glanced around, my head snapping left, then right, then back again. Thick brown sheets of cardboard held up with duct tape stretched across the windows of many of the houses, since the glass had been busted out long ago by bullets, fists, and rocks. Small holes had been cut here and there in the cardboard, and flashes of light and shadow appeared as folks peered out their peepholes at us, then scurried away. No doubt, someone was already dialing into Benson’s network, and word would soon reach him about our location. We needed to move.

“Gin?” Bria asked, stopping beside me, her breath coming in soft gasps as she put her hands on her knees. “Where to now?”

That was the question—and the answer would determine whether we lived or died.

I glanced at first one end of the block, then the other. Going south would take us back toward the river, which was no good, since Benson could always order more of his vamps to guard the bridges. The police station was about two miles north of here, but I doubted we could make it on foot without running into some of Benson’s men.

Killing my way through the vamp’s goons didn’t bother me. I could take care of myself. So could Bria. But blood was still oozing out of that gash on Catalina’s forehead, and her face was white with fear, adrenaline, and the strain of running so far so fast. I unzipped my duffel bag long enough to grab a tin of Jo-Jo’s healing ointment. The salve would take care of the ugly cut, but it wouldn’t be long before her body shut down completely and she went into shock, if she wasn’t already there.

“Here,” I said, shoving the tin into Catalina’s trembling hand. “Put that on your forehead.”

Catalina took the container, but instead of popping off the top, she hunched over between Bria and me, her hands on her knees, her breath coming in ragged puffs, her hazel gaze locked on a beer bottle sitting upright on the curb, one that wasn’t broken like all the others we’d waded through in the alleys.

Catalina stared and stared at that bottle, although I knew that she wasn’t really seeing it. I started to look away but found myself strangely hypnotized by the glint of the afternoon sun on the glass, making it flare with an inner amber fire. A faint breeze gusted down the street, tickling my nose with a hint of stale, sour beer.

The color, the smell, the fingers of wind tangling my sweaty hair . . . For a second, I was in another place, another time, another street where I was clutching a beer bottle, getting ready to cut that man to save Coral—

“Gin?” Bria asked again.

I snapped back to this place, this time, this street. I knew where to go now.

“This way.”

I hurried across the street, shoved through a gate in a chain-link fence, and jogged around the side of a house in the middle of the block. Classic jazz music purred out from behind the walls, and the whiff of fried meat seeped out of the cardboard-covered windows. I headed into the backyard, ducked under a clothesline filled with white undershirts and blue boxers that were snapping back and forth in the wind, and hopped over the waist-high fence at the edge of the yard.

Again and again, I repeated the process, cutting through yard after yard, taking a zigzag route, with Catalina and Bria behind me. Finally, we reached the last of the houses, but I didn’t slow my pace until we’d crossed another street and ducked into an alley. Even then, I kept going until I reached the apartment building in the center of the block.

I stopped in front of the back door of the building. It was still red, although the color had long ago faded from that bright, glossy crimson I remembered to a dull, flat rust. More memories rose up in my mind about all the terrible things that had happened the day I’d followed Coral through that door, but I forced them back into the bottom of my brain. More terrible things were going to happen if I didn’t get Bria and Catalina out of here.

“Gin?” Bria asked, her gun still clutched in her hand, her head swiveling back and forth from one end of the alley to the other. “Why are we stopping?”

Instead of answering her, I dropped my bag onto the pavement and then crouched down in front of the door so that I was eye-level with the lock. Catalina slumped against the brick wall next to me, trying to get her breath back, her face even paler and bloodier than before. She still had that tin of Jo-Jo’s ointment clutched in her hands, and she started fumbling with the top, her bloody fingers slipping off the smooth surface.

“You still have your phone?” I asked Bria.

“Yeah. Why?”

“Text Xavier. See if he got away from Benson’s men and if his car is in one piece. Ask if he can pick you up at this address.” I rattled off a location.

Bria frowned, but she pulled out her phone and did as I asked. Meanwhile, I reached for my Ice magic, pulling the cool power up out of the deepest part of me and letting it flow out through my hand. A silver light flared in my right palm, centered in my spider rune scar. A second later, I was holding two slender Ice picks, which I inserted into the lock.

Bria’s phone beeped, and she read the message. “Yeah, Xavier’s fine. He’ll be at that location in five minutes.”

“Good.”

The tumblers clicked into place. I threw down my Ice picks, twisted the knob, and opened the door. The inside of the building was dim and murky, although I could see light spilling from the door at the far end of the hallway.

“Come on, Catalina,” I called out. “Just a little farther now. Go inside and wait for us. Bria will be there in a second.”

She’d quit trying to open the tin of salve, and she was just standing there, swaying from side to side. Her hazel eyes were a bit unfocused, but she finally sighed and shuffled forward into the building with all the lifeless enthusiasm of a zombie. She stopped a few feet away and leaned against the interior wall.

I turned to Bria. “You need to go inside. Follow this hallway all the way to the end. It opens up into a courtyard. You can cut across there and into the building directly across from this one. Go straight through that building, and you’ll come out on the street where Xavier will be waiting.”

Bria nodded, then frowned. “How do you know all that?”

“Because I’ve been here before.”

She opened her mouth, but after a moment, she swallowed down her many questions and asked the only one that mattered. “What about you?”

“I’ll meet you there. I’m going to go down to the end of the alley and then jog around the block to make sure that none of Benson’s vamps come up on you from behind. We only have one chance to get out of here, and this is it.”

Bria nodded again. She bit her lip, looked up and down the alley to make sure that we were still alone, then reached out and hugged me tight with one arm.

“I’m so sorry,” she whispered. “For everything. I just . . . I wanted to nail that bastard so damn bad.”

Even though a dozen shallow cuts dotted my hand, I reached up and smoothed down her hair, leaving streaks of blood behind in her tangled golden locks. “I know.”

Bria shuddered in a breath. I hugged her even tighter, but when she dropped her arm and pulled back, her face was as calm and composed as mine.

“See you on the other side—”

The screech-screech-screech of tires cut her off. A black SUV stopped at the end of the alley. The doors opened, and vamps started pouring out, all with guns, all racing in our direction. They’d finally found us, and they were out for blood—ours.

Bria’s mouth flattened into a determined line, and she raised her gun to fire at them. But I grabbed her shoulder, spun her around, and shoved her through the open door and into the building. She staggered forward, almost plowing into Catalina. While she struggled to right herself, I grabbed the duffel bag full of guns, ammo, and other supplies and tossed it inside too. Bria whipped around, but I reached through the opening, grabbed the door, and pulled it shut. Then I wrapped my hand around the knob and let loose with a burst of Ice magic. The intense silver light of my power pulsed for a moment, searing my eyes, before it faded away. By the time I blinked again, three inches of my elemental Ice coated the knob, the door, and a good chunk of the surrounding walls. A crude but effective lock. Nobody would be getting through that right now without an axe or some serious elemental Fire power.

“Gin!” I heard Bria’s muffled yell through the door. “What are you doing?”

She rattled the knob on her side, but she couldn’t get through the thick layer of Ice I’d caked on it.

“Go!” I shouted back to her. “Just go!”

Crack!

Crack! Crack!

Crack!

The vamps raised their guns and started firing. I cursed, then grabbed hold of my Stone magic, using it to harden my skin. But instead of running away, I palmed one of the knives hidden up my sleeves and sprinted toward the gunmen. I still needed to buy Bria some time to get Catalina through the building and over to the street so Xavier could pick them up, and I couldn’t think of a better way to do that than by killing a whole passel of Benson’s men.

The vamps’ mouths gaped open, revealing their fangs. Apparently, my charge had surprised them, but they recovered quickly enough to empty their guns at me.

Crack!

Crack! Crack!

Crack!

Bullets pinged off the walls, the trash cans, the Dumpsters, and even me, and the burn of gunpowder filled the air, overpowering the pungent scent of the garbage. But I kept running, and the vamps quickly ran out of bullets.

Aw, I just hated that for them.

Two of them cursed and stopped to reload, but it was too late, because I was already there. I grabbed the first man I reached, pulling him close and slicing my knife across his stomach one, two, three times, before shoving him away. He went down screaming.

I moved to the left side of the alley. This vamp was quicker than his friend, and he landed a quick one-two combo to my chest. But his blows didn’t hurt all that much, thanks to the protective shells of my silverstone vest and my Stone magic, and I buried my knife in his throat before he could strike again. He died with a bloody wheeze.

A third man stepped up and grabbed my hand, trying to bend my wrist back to get me to drop my knife. So I slammed my Stone-hardened head into his, making his nose crunch like a potato chip. He let go of my hand and staggered back, but I reached out, latched onto his tie, and yanked him toward me, even as I shoved my knife into his heart. He yelped once like a wounded animal.

I stood there, eyes flicking back and forth, body tense, blood dripping off the end of my knife, but there were no more attackers to cut down, and the only sound was my harsh, raspy breaths—

Screech-screech-screech.

Three more SUVs pulled up at the end of the alley, and more vamps spewed out of the vehicles, close to a dozen this time, which was more than I could easily handle. Besides, I still needed to get to Bria and Catalina, so I turned and ran toward the far end of the alley.

Crack! Crack! Crack!

More bullets zipped in my direction, but I was booking it, and the vamps had to step over their dead buddies to take aim at me. I focused on the exit up ahead and forced myself to sprint even faster. Bria and Catalina should almost be to Xavier by now. I needed to get there too, so I put on an extra burst of speed and hurtled out of the alley—

Once again, I heard the screech of tires, but I didn’t see the vehicle until it was too late.

I whirled around to find a black SUV bearing down on me. The driver hit the gas, making the vehicle jump the curb and careen up onto the sidewalk where I was standing. I had just enough time to reach for my Stone magic, trying to harden my skin even more, before the SUV slammed into me.

I rolled up and over the hood, cracking the windshield with my head just like the vamp I’d plowed into with my car at the bridge. The brutal impact made me lose my grip on my magic for one precious second. But that was all it took for me to fly off the side of the car and hit the pavement.

Lights out.