night moves - a holden chancery story (3 page)

Felicia glanced at the empty seats around them and seemed to think better of sitting in any of them. The pungent odor of human waste might have come from anywhere, and standing felt a lot cleaner than taking the risk. It turned out she was as much of a snob about these things as he was.

The only other passenger in the car with them was an elderly black man with a patchy gray beard. His unfocused eyes were milky white, and he stared at the opposite wall without acknowledging he knew they were there.

“What’s the genius plan, here?” Felicia asked. “You going to take me to the end of the line and see if I can make it home in one piece or something?”

“I’m disappointed I didn’t think of that. But no. I’ve got a different idea. I want to see if you have what it takes to work for the Tribunal. And you wanted to get your hands dirty tonight and kill some vampires. So we’re both going to get what we want.”

Her cheeks went pale, and she swallowed hard. Her pulse was hammering with such ferocious intensity he could taste her fear in the back of his throat, and it excited him. Why couldn’t she have just been a quick-and-dirty feed in a back alley somewhere? This hadn’t been how he’d envisioned his night going, but now that he was in the thick of it, he might as well see things through. He had it on good authority the council was down a bounty hunter right now, so bringing them someone he’d seen in action might help him in his lowly warden position.

Recruiting a new hunter might not elevate him to sentry, but it would help the council remember he existed.

“Where are we going, then?”

“Harlem.”

Felicia’s lips tightened into a thin frown, and she shot him an unfriendly glare. She was really good at those. She also didn’t appear to be frightened of him anymore, which he couldn’t decide if he liked or not. In this game, it didn’t hurt to be a little afraid of the things that could kill you.

“And what, pray tell, are we going to Harlem for?”

“Jazz?” He grinned broadly.

The subway lurched, tossing Felicia into him. She braced her hand against his chest to steady herself, and that instant, that one touch, electrified him. There was nothing sexual about it, yet he felt it right into his core, making him awake and alive, like every one of his senses was totally alert.

You’re just hungry
, he told himself, as if that might explain what he was feeling. But it didn’t, not in a satisfactory way. He was feeling something for this girl that had nothing to do with a desire to feed. Why else was he out here helping her? Why did he care so much what became of a girl he’d only known a couple of hours?

“I’m taking you hunting,” he admitted, when his smooth jazz line didn’t work.

“Hunting?”

He nodded, offering her another smile. “The 145
^th
Street Station is a hotbed for rogues. Enough so commuters don’t bother to use it at night. We’re going to stop there, and you’re going to kill something.”

Felicia darted a nervous glance to the old man at the other end of the train. His milky-white eyes were closed now, and the way his head bobbed and his breathing had gone shallow were sure signs he’d nodded off. Holden wasn’t all too worried about him hearing them in the first place.

“Are you out of your mind?” She pushed herself away from him, but her fingers lingered for a moment, toying with one of his buttons before she let go. “I don’t have any weapons. I don’t know what we’re up against. I’ve never killed one vampire, let alone a whole subway station of them.” Her pulse was going wild now, and it was hard to tell if she was more scared or excited.

“A hunter is defined by her ability, not by the weapon she uses.”

“Easy for you to say when you can kill someone by biting them.”

“That’s not altogether accurate.”

She rolled her eyes at him. “I weigh, like, a hundred and twenty pounds. A vampire is going to knock me on my ass in less than a second if I don’t have a weapon.”

“A weapon didn’t do you much good when it came to me, did it. And I’m not even tough.” Okay, maybe that line had bothered him more than he thought.

“Holden…”

“Felicia.”

“Do you want me to die? Is this some weird way for you to get revenge on me for stabbing you? Take me out to Vamp Central Station and toss me to the wolves?” She was speaking faster, too fast. Clearly fear was winning over excitement.

“Darling, I wouldn’t dream of tossing you to the wolves. Those filthy mongrels would give you rabies.” He smirked at her confused expression, but his statement had done the job of calming her down. Evidently werewolves
were
good for something.

He placed a hand on her shoulder and was struck by the same electric thrill as when she’d touched him before. “I’m not trying to kill you. If things go south, I’ll be there to help you, understand? It’s hunting time for them right now. Most of the rogues will be out of the nest. You’ll have two or three tops to take out.”

“Two or three.” She laughed nervously. “I’ve never even taken out one.”

“Then it will be a good night for your scorecard.”

Felicia smacked him.

“See, you’re already getting the hang of it,” he announced.

The train jostled along, and for a few tense moments neither of them spoke. Holden wondered whether or not he was making a sensible decision by dragging her out all this way. It wasn’t her safety he was concerned about. If push came to shove, he’d be able to get her out alive. But was he putting too much pressure on her simply because he
wanted
her to be a hunter? She had a bit of natural skill, but she’d already failed in a relatively easy close-contact fight where she had the element of surprise on her side. The vampires they came up against at the 145
^th
Street Station wouldn’t play fair. They
would
fight to kill. Was she really ready to fight for her life?

“Do you know how to kill a vampire?” he asked.

“Destroy the heart. Cut off the head.”

Good, she wasn’t hopeless. “And do you have some idea of how hard it is to cut off a head?”

Felicia lifted one brow to him as if to say,
Do I look like I was born yesterday?

“Just asking.”

“I was a nurse, remember? I know a thing or two about human anatomy.” She waited for him to say something and when he didn’t she said, “Go for the heart, then?” She touched her own chest thoughtfully, and his gaze followed the movement. He swallowed hard and struggled to look at her face again. This woman was knocking him off-kilter, and he didn’t like it. Typically he had total control over his emotions, and that was the way he felt comfortable. This new feeling was…well, to be honest it was nice, but totally out of place and unwelcome.

Holden reached into the pocket of his coat and handed her what he’d been hiding.

Felicia took the item from him and let out a scoffing laugh. “You want me to hunt vampires with a steak knife?”

“A good hunter wouldn’t even need that. But you’re new, so I’m giving you an advantage.” He offered her his most charming smile.

“Where did you get this?”

“I stole it from the diner.”

She stared at the blade a little longer. It was a surprisingly decent knife considering where it had come from. The blade was heavy, with a serrated edge and a sharp tip. It could probably crack a sternum with a bit of effort. If she could see the potential in a simple weapon like this, there was a chance she could pull this whole thing off.

Her pulse thumped against the taut skin of her neck. Holden licked his dry lips, suddenly very aware of how long it had been since he’d fed and what his original intentions for her that evening had been. Swallowing hard, he pushed the thoughts aside. There would be plenty of time to eat when this was all over. He’d just need to wait.

The train squealed to a stop and the door slid open, presenting them with an empty, darkened subway platform.

Holden swept his arm towards the exit. “Ladies first.”

Chapter Four

The overhead lights flickered on and off, the filaments pinging loudly, like moths battering their bodies against the bulbs. Spray paint was so densely clustered on the walls it was hard to discern one tag from another. The effect made the platform look like something out of a bad adventure through Wonderland, if Lewis Carroll had smoked a lot of crack.

A loud hiss announced the close of the subway car door, and the train sped off, leaving them to their uncertain fate.

At least the air here was cleaner smelling than on the train. The stink of urine was replaced with something more pungent and metallic. Blood. Holden hoped Felicia wouldn’t be able to pick up on it.

Telltale signs were all around that they’d walked headfirst into a vampire den, but it was nothing the average human would notice. The platform was meticulously clean, not a sign of garbage anywhere. So, too, the lack of urine smell was an indicator. No vampire would want to live with that stench, considering their heightened senses. It would be unbearable.

A large stack of clothing in one corner was the only debris present anywhere in the station. To the casual observer it might look like the remnants of a homeless person’s collection, but Holden knew better. Those clothes represented something far more sinister.

Trophies.

They were meant to warn others, but also to brag. Each of those items belonged to a different victim, and there must have been dozens in the heap.

“There’s no one here.” Felicia’s tone was a mix of disappointment and relief.

“Shh. You’re never alone in a place like this, little one. You need to listen and keep your guard up at all times.”

She fell so silent he was sure she was holding her breath. He didn’t need to breathe. They both listened intently. Just because it was quiet didn’t mean they were off the hook. Rogues would never leave a nest completely unattended. There was too much risk of another group moving in to take it over.

A low, rough chuckle announced the presence of company.

“Look at this. Council lackey brought us take out. What’s the special occasion, warden? Tribunal wants to make nice? I don’t think she’s going to be enough to feed everyone.”

Everyone.

Now that they were exposed, Holden could tell how many had been left behind. Just as he’d predicted, there were three of them. A standard number of low-level rogues to keep an eye on things. In spite of the bravado of the guy speaking, Holden was well aware these wouldn’t be the strongest or smartest vamps in the group. They wouldn’t take much work to dispatch, even if he had to do it on his own.

Thankfully his shirt was already ruined. He needn’t worry about getting more blood on it.

Unlike on the train, Felicia wasn’t fidgeting or nervous. She stood straight and rigid and appeared more ready to lunge into an attack than to make a run for it. Holden smiled slightly, thrilled to see which instinct was winning in fight versus flight. The hunter vibe he’d gotten from her was shining through.

She was holding the handle of the blade in the palm of her hand with the blade pressed against her forearm. To the approaching vampires she would appear unarmed. Very smart. It was an ideal tactic to get them to underestimate her.

Taking mental notes to report back to the Tribunal later, Holden took a step away from her, wishing he had an easy way to give her some reassurance but hoping she wouldn’t need it.

Holden thrust a thumb in Felicia’s direction. “This chick has been a massive pain in my ass all night. Groupies, you know? One bite and they’re hooked.”

“Bitches love a good nibble,” the lead vampire replied.

The trio was now more visible, in spite of the flickering overhead lights. The apparent leader, the one speaking to them, had been turned in his late thirties. He was handsome in a way the
GQ
editorial team would call “suggestively threatening.” He was tall with blond hair, and would have looked equally at home on either a runway or in a homeless shelter.

Holden didn’t recognize him, but that wasn’t surprising. Rogues didn’t often mingle with Council vampires, for good reason.

“You want us to get rid of her for you?” This was asked by a young woman, who couldn’t have been more than sixteen when she died. Nowadays it was against the law to turn them so young. Much like voting, eighteen was the earliest age a vampire could be turned in the modern era. That either meant this girl was much older than she looked or had been changed illegally. Both options were plausible, but she didn’t feel old to Holden. Power was almost tactile to vampires. If she were older, she’d radiate more power.

None of these vampires felt more than fifty.

You’ve got this
, he thought in Felicia’s direction.

She’d spread her feet wide and was bracing herself like she expected a blow.

Aside from the teenager and the blond leader, the third vampire was a pudgy middle-aged man. Though he didn’t look like much, his kind were the most dangerous. Pretty people stood out, they got noticed, and people remembered them. Average-looking types could fly below the radar. They could sweep in and kill, and no one would recall having seen them after the fact.

Sometimes it paid to be ordinary.

Holden would keep an eye on the oldest one in case Felicia made the same mistake of underestimating him.

The teenage girl was eyeing Felicia with naked hunger on her face. The vampires who stayed behind had to feast on whatever was left after the hunt, or whoever was unlucky enough to wander onto the platform after hours. Clearly no one had been foolish enough to make their way down here tonight.

No one until Holden and Felicia.

Hunger would make them sloppy, though. It usually did. As long as they didn’t know she was here to kill them, Felicia could probably take one down and be onto the second before they had time to react. Holden hadn’t seen her coming, after all. She’d managed to get the blade into him before he’d recognized her intention.

All he had to do was give her the edge.

“You know how it is with the council.” He hefted an overly dramatic sigh. “You can’t kill them, and turning them is a bureaucratic nightmare. I thought you guys might be able to make my problem…disappear.”