Blood Rules (37 page)

Stamp shrugged off her grip, and, hardly fazed, she gestured toward the tops of the walls, where small towers loomed close by, striking out against the moonlight.

Was she thinking that Gabriel and his friend were taking cover in one of the towers?

Mags signaled over the wall, relaying that they should just go. But Stamp knew that if the monsters became any more organized, he'd never get to Gabriel and the scrubs. The time was now.

He shook his head, fingering his throwing star. Primitive weapons. They were the only things working after the outage, and he would've preferred some help from bullets or ultraviolet bombs. But silver was silver, and it'd weaken a vampire as well as a were-creature. And if the silver pierced a were's heart? One more monster down.

Mags paused, and then her jaw went firm. Stamp knew this spelled out trouble even before she strapped the chest puncher onto her back and pointed toward a tower.

He could tell what she had in mind.

She took a run toward the wall, then scrambled up, finally straddling the top of the wall. She reached down to him.

Stamp couldn't run, but he could use his crutches to bolster him while jumping, and he caught Mags's hand, climbing the wall with her help. She was a wiry one, deceptively strong. Once he was up, they balanced on the top, crawling toward the tower, slipping inside its stark lookout emptiness. It'd give them a clear view all around if Gabriel and the wolf showed themselves again. But Stamp would put good water on the fact that Gabriel wouldn't leave any adversary alive. Not if the vampire was smart.

Stamp and Mags waited, just as they'd waited outside the asylum all that time while the moon had phased toward its full form. All those nights ago, when they'd decided to follow those beast dogs, their plans had come to nothing, because the slobbering canines had been attacked by a pack of were-cats just outside the hub. Stamp and Mags had seen it from afar before beating a hasty retreat back to the relative security of GBVille.

It hadn't taken a genius to figure out that the monsters had gotten out of the asylum.

So Stamp and Mags had hidden nearby, near rocks, scentless and undetectable as they'd seen a bunch of vampires and were-creatures going in and out of the asylum. And from the looks of the hub at large, Stamp guessed that the monsters were controlling things all over the place, wrangling the running ones and somehow keeping the authorities in other hubs clueless.

He and Mags didn't dare make a break from GBVille themselves. It'd be a death wish. Besides, if Gabriel and the scrubs were still around, Stamp wanted to be here.

So they'd waited.

Then, several nights ago—pay dirt. They'd seen the Blood-landers entering the asylum. After coming up with a plan, he and Mags had slunk around the hub, gathering heavy coats and hats. Disguises. With the obvious new influx of monsters from outside GBVille, they would pretend to be one of
them
, just until Stamp slayed his enemies.

They'd infiltrated the asylum, mapping out the best, most out-of-the-way places for hits. Finessing their plan bit by bit . . . until tonight, when the perfect opportunity had introduced itself.

And when Stamp had seen the redhead meeting Gabriel outside, there wasn't a thing Mags could do to talk better sense into him.

A smacking sound wrested his focus to a lookout tower across the walkway. But Stamp had played every game while hunting for preters, and he knew a distraction when he heard one. He didn't take the bait.

But Mags did.

She stood with a fistful of knives in hand, ready to fire, and Stamp was just about to whisper for her to get down when the massive werewolf popped up and over their tower's wall, baring its long teeth, its green eyes pissed as all get out.

He had just enough time to recognize a woman's distinctive features on its face, as if the creature had reverted back to half-form.

Stamp's normally cool blood fired through him as he yelled, “Mags!”

But she'd already let loose with the silver knives, and as the blades whished toward the werewolf, the creature flipped back from the tower, disappearing.

Extracting the last knives from her belt, Mags was over the wall before Stamp could stop her.

A momentary flicker of panic made him want to go after her, but Stamp's developed hunting instinct sensed Gabriel nearby.

He whipped around with his throwing star, aiming at the vampire, who was just appearing over the other side of the tower wall, fangs threatening.

But Gabriel, with his nasty heightened vision, saw the blade coming toward his throat, and even as he jumped into the tower, then arced to a landing, he ducked, and the star glanced off the brick, sparking and flying away.

“Stamp,” Gabriel said, the name guttural, filled with hunger.

Stamp didn't remember Gabriel like this. The vampire had been more wily than bloodthirsty when Stamp had faced him last. Gabriel had tried to get him to think he was human, and it'd been a clever ruse, a fresh change from the usual mindless preter defense strategy.

Yet newer vampires were usually like that, slow to surrender the last of their humanity. And this made newer vampires weaker....

Even as Stamp avoided Gabriel's direct gaze, he saw how red the vampire's eyes were. How far Gabriel had gone down the road to what he truly was.

Stamp stilled his vitals and readied his hand to grasp a silver-loaded, crank-action dart gun strapped to his thigh.

It sounded like Gabriel laughed. A serrated laugh.

“You bring a little gun to a personal Armageddon?” Gabriel said in that damned vampire voice. It was on the edge of sway, but Stamp had been trained in how to block that out.

Yet a tap of doubt introduced itself to Stamp, especially when Gabriel gave a pointed glance to Stamp's leg. He'd seen how it impeded movement, probably heard the damaged gears, too.

Gabriel was a predator standing over wounded prey, and he didn't care about any throwing stars or silver darts.

Stamp drew his gun, anyway, and just as Gabriel swatted it out of the tower, a howl cut the air.

Gabriel glanced over to where Mags and the werewolf were obviously having their own faceoff below.

Mags...

What did that howl mean? Was the monster standing over her, gutting her?

Mags came flying backward over the tower, as if the werewolf had punched her away. But Mags already had out a cable gun that she was firing, even as she dropped over the other side of the wall.

The werewolf went flying after her.

In the fractured second when Stamp had lost concentration, Gabriel had already crouched, ready to spring—

But he didn't do it toward Stamp, instead diving out of the tower in the direction Mags and the werewolf had gone over the outer wall.

Stamp rush-limped to see them, leaning over the wall, where he saw Mags down among the rocks, wielding two dart guns and firing silver at the dodging werewolf while Gabriel crawled down the bricks toward them.

They were going to kill Mags.

Using the best weapon at hand, Stamp yelled a holy curse at the vampire. “God
damn
you, Gabriel!”

Curses had almost worked the last time Stamp had met the vampire, but now, Gabriel only froze for an instant, shaking his head as if ruffling off a nuisance.

He was deep into his bloodlust, all right, and out of pure desperation, Stamp doffed his coat, took out a knife, then ripped off one of his gauntlets. He pushed up his sleeve, cut his arm just over his useless computer, then reached over the tower wall.

At the same time, Mags yelled at the werewolf.

“Government! We know how the government's going to infiltrate the hub!”

Even Stamp came to a halt.

The wolf cocked her head at what Stamp knew to be a huge lie from Mags. But, good God-all, the half-changed wolf understood what she was saying because the redhead hadn't gone all the way into were-form, and her mind would still be fairly intact.

Would she care about Mags's plea?

Didn't matter, because Mags's appeal hadn't stopped Gabriel yet. He was still crawling down to them, stalking, as if feeding off Mags's fear.

And Stamp knew how another's fear could inspire.

“Hey!” he cried, his voice echoing back at him. “Blood! Gabriel, you and the wolf want
my
blood, not hers!”

His head felt like a toy top, spinning, everything around him a mess of confusion. What the hell was he doing?

The vampire, halfway down the wall now, glanced over his shoulder with those red eyes as Stamp allowed his blood to drip down. A bead of red landed on Gabriel's forehead, marking him, and he reared back, as if reveling in the scent.

Below, the werewolf with the humanlike face was staring at Mags, as if trying to decide whether to chase the blood she scented or hearing out this woman who had information about the government. Mags was sprawled on the ground, not daring to move.

“Blood!” Stamp yelled.

Mags gazed up him, her dark eyes wide under the moonlight.

Don't do this!
she seemed to be thinking.

Gabriel hissed at Stamp, hunching his back.

Come on,
Stamp thought.
Get up here.
He had to remove them from Mags. He was the Shredder, not her.

Gabriel reversed direction, crawling back up to Stamp.

He drew a machete from its holster, hiding it behind his back as he saw the werewolf jumping up the bricks, too.

But then Gabriel hissed and—

Damn.

The vampire cocked his leg and kicked down at the wolf, slamming her to the ground, as if he didn't want to compete for the blood.

Although a second couldn't last forever, this one sure seemed to, as the werewolf looked at the vampire with that eerily human face.

Devastated. Destroyed.

Gabriel didn't seem bothered by it as he kept climbing up. But the wolf sprang from the ground again, grabbing at his ankle.

“Gabriel!” she yelled, a half-howl. “If they know something about the government . . .”

But it was also as if she hated to see him this way. How could that be, though, when these things were only monsters?

Stamp pushed away from the wall, still hiding his machete. If he ran, he wouldn't get but a few feet. Best to make a stand so Mags could do the running.

Gabriel's bloodied forehead appeared over the wall first, slowly, as if the vampire meant to stalk Stamp and take deep pleasure in it. Then came his crazed eyes. His fangy mouth, which smiled.

Then he kicked down again, and the pained howl of a werewolf split the night.

There was a thud, as if Gabriel had kicked hard enough for the were-creature to hit the ground this time.

Stamp gripped the machete and pressed his cut arm to his hip, hiding the blood. Hopefully Mags had run far enough to set herself up in ambush mode, with better weapons drawn if the wolf decided to chase her.

Gabriel focused those awful eyes on Stamp again. Here went nothing.

“We found a working comm outside the hub,” he lied, hoping Gabriel was lucid enough to understand. “We heard the government on it. They're planning to do some real nastiness with you monsters.”

Gabriel must've heard the wolf climbing again, because he levered himself up, sitting on the wall's ledge, looking down, hissing, warning her.

Then the strangest thing happened: The vampire paused, as if his humanity had kicked in again.

Amateur,
Stamp thought.

But, just as quickly, Gabriel fixed his gaze on Stamp and, with a blast of speed, the vampire pushed off the wall, coming down to a graceful landing a few feet away. He touched his forehead, where Stamp's blood reddened his skin, then sniffed his fingers. Shivered.

His whole body was shivering, as if he were . . .

Still fighting himself.

“If you don't want to know what you're in for with the government,” Stamp said, appealing to Gabriel's weakness—his remaining sense—“then go ahead and kill me and Mags. It'll be your last mistake.”

Gabriel tilted his head, his hand quaking as he lowered it from his nose. Then, as if unable to resist, he pressed his bloodied fingers to his mouth.

He groaned.

Stamp had always wondered what a Shredder's last thought might be before getting whacked. And if this was it, he'd go out wondering if Mags had made it, but that was only because she was the only one left around here who was equipped to fight the monsters....

Stamp waited only a second more, the time it took to breathe a prayer, and then he brought out the machete.

But his leg made him slow and without decent balance, and as he lurched forward, swinging, Gabriel simply ducked, then knocked the machete away. The vampire grasped Stamp's bandolier, jerking him closer, his fangs flashing as he reared back his head for a killing bite.

Stamp barely saw that, behind Gabriel, the recovered werewolf had jumped over the wall, reaching out to Gabriel. When she got him in a headlock, pulling him away from Stamp, it was as if she really did want to stop him from destroying a person who had information about a government attack, even if it was a Shredder. Her leg was bleeding, as if Gabriel's last kick had split open her thigh and she'd been were-healing the worst of it before being able to come up here.

Seeing an opportunity, Stamp raised his machete again. Two heads in one.

But then, out of nowhere,
he
was yanked backward, his machete pulled from his grasp, his body weighed down by a tawny were-puma sitting on him and hissing, its short, half-human face and clawed hands showing it hadn't gone into full were-form, either, although its long tail spoke of an eager animal underneath it all.