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Authors: Kristi Charish

Owl and the Japanese Circus (18 page)

BOOK: Owl and the Japanese Circus
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Next on my radar was “Vampire stupid enough to hurt my cat.” I unloaded the rest of the water gun into his face, grabbed Captain—still warm, which was a good sign—and tried for my pack. But the vampire who’d been holding Captain was down, not out. He growled something in French and held onto my pack for dear life. I cut my losses and grabbed my UV flashlight by his feet, turning it on Eurotrash vampire #3. He didn’t go up in flames, but he screamed as I gave him second- and third-degree burns. As soon as he huddled in a fetal position to escape the light, I bolted down the fork.

And slammed right into Red’s six-foot frame.

“Kid, run, run now,” I said, recovering from the impact.

He smiled but didn’t make a move.

A sick feeling hit my stomach. Red had set it up from the start. I shook my head and took a step back. I only had a minute tops before the vampires were back on their feet.

“Out of my way, kid. I don’t want to hurt you.”

“Or what? You’ll shoot me? With your water gun?” To make his point, he swung his dig pickax at my head. I ducked and felt the air stir above as it bit into the wall.

I took another step back, my precious escape window disappearing. Then I remembered Captain concentrating on scent in the jeep: vampire traces, of course.

“You don’t want me on your bad side, and you’ve got no idea what those people are capable of doing. I do. Out of my way and we can both walk out.”

Red just smiled wider and shook his head. I could hear the vampires regrouping behind me. I’m lousy with French, but the words I recognized were not indicative of happy captors. Maybe I could knock Red over. Captain stirred and I folded him into my jacket. I made ready to rush Red. Better the pickax than the vampires.

I faked to either side, and just as Red spaced his legs apart to stop me ducking around him, I kicked up. Really, really hard.

I hopped over him and broke into a full-out run. I didn’t know where this tunnel led, but if I could get ahead, even without my backpack, I was better off in here and better equipped . . .

I sailed a foot into the air as I tripped over the trip wire and landed on all fours. At least I didn’t crush Captain. The wind knocked out of me; it took me a second to stand.

That was all the vampires needed. Before I could get back into a sprint, I heard a growl and was yanked back by my jacket collar.

Funny thing, even though technically I’m a criminal, I’ve never actually been in a fight before. In my life. I’ve always run—
really
fast and
really
far.

Physical altercations are something I’ve always dreaded. I get roughed up occasionally, it goes with the job, but I’ve always managed to make myself scarce by the time people start throwing punches or firing guns.

It was worse than I imagined.

Someone delivered a boot to my head and my mask went flying. Two thoughts ran through my head as I passed out. The first was to cover my mouth with my hand to cut down on the pheromones I’d breathe in. Not useful if I’m passing out. The second was that I’d been so mad at Rynn that I hadn’t bothered setting up a meeting time or plan if I didn’t show up. I had no way to warn him about the vampires . . . Shit.

And this is why I don’t let people come on jobs with me.

8
COCKROACHES, VAMPIRES, AND OTHER ASSORTED PESTS

My face was wet, and I hurt.

Everywhere.

And it smelled like flowers that had been rotting in a pond for a few days. . . .

Bali, the catacombs, vampires—everything flooded back to me like a bad hangover. I lifted my face out of the puddle and groaned. Even with my eyes closed, the world was spinning. I barely had enough strength to hold my head up.

I coughed, and someone prodded me with a sharp stick. Captain wasn’t tucked into my jacket anymore, and a wave of panic hit me. I hoped they hadn’t killed him; vampires like Alexander don’t kill things mercifully. I had to know, so I forced my eyes open and batted the stick away.

My hand connected with it, and a chill crept over me. A wooden stake. Shit.

“I remember hearing that you assholes had a thing for stakes. What, vampire S&M?” I said.

Laughter.

Well, if I kept entertaining them, maybe they’d keep me alive long enough to figure something the hell out.

I propped myself up on my forearms and gritted my teeth through a wave of nausea. My arms wouldn’t hold me up and I fell right back down, face-first, into the puddle.

More laughter.

I started to drift off again, and I forced myself to snap out of it and stay awake. When they’d knocked me out, they must have given me a concussion. Not good. No more drifting off. I had to stay awake, or I might not get up ever again.

Alexander’s expensive leather shoe moved into my line of vision. I noticed it came as close as it could without touching the puddle, followed by Alexander crouching down. I made eye contact, and a flicker of euphoria washed over me. Shit, that meant I’d been breathing in the pheromones for at least half an hour—maybe more. Well, it explained why I was so weak and sick.

I hoped to hell Rynn had started looking for me.

One of Alexander’s goons grabbed my wrists and pinned them behind my back,
tight
. There was no sign of my water gun or backpack. One thing I’ve got to give Alexander is that he learns.

Alexander leaned in close enough that I could smell the blood on his breath, like raw ground beef left on the counter for a few hours. I cringed. From the smile and peek of fang, I think Alexander got off on it.

“Alexander,” I managed, holding my breath. “Why don’t you come a little closer so I can puke on your shoes?” Oh God, I hoped to hell he stopped breathing on me soon.

“Owl,” he said, giving me a little more glimpse of fang. “Fancy meeting you here.”

“Go fuck yourself,” I said as another rotten lily wave hit me. Yup, that’s me with a concussion and high on vampire pheromones. Eloquent.

Alexander just smiled and adjusted his angle so he could get a better look at me without getting mud on his suit. I wished I had something in my stomach so I
could
puke on his shoes.

He took a cell phone out of his pocket—my cell phone.

“Exactly who is this Rynn person? He keeps messaging you. Should we go after him next?”

I kept my mouth shut. If he didn’t know Rynn was in the tunnels with Bindi, I sure as hell wasn’t going to enlighten them.

Alexander continued. “Every time I see a message come in, I wonder to myself, ‘What would the great Owl say in reply?’ Shall I be coy? Offensive? Or ‘smart-alecky,’ I believe you Americans like to say.”

Something must have passed over my face, because Alexander smiled and nodded. “Yes, I think offensive is more your style, is it not?”

He started to click at the tiny keypad and recited each word back to me. “ ‘
I’m still busy. Go to hell. I will let you know when I’m done.
’ Yes? Does that sound enough like you? I would hate to misrepresent you in your own personal dealings.” The smile turned sinister. “Now let’s get down to business, shall we? Maybe then I won’t need to hunt down every one of your friends, so conveniently listed in your device.”

The way his goon held me, all I could see was Alexander. Vampires have a talent for staging if nothing else.

Alexander stood, and the lily of the valley hit me like a wave; part chloroform and part elation. With enough exposure, the pheromones that vampires excrete from their skin can be more addictive than heroin. I nuzzled my mouth and nose into my shirt collar so I’d have a marginal filter at least. I needed to fix a lock on my gas mask straps.

I didn’t trust myself to say anything coherent, so I spit where it would hurt him. On his shoes. Alexander wiped it off on the front of my jacket and backhanded me.

“Always such a pleasant young lady. Now, why don’t you tell me what you are here looking for?”

I shook my head, twice, I think, but it could have been more.
“None of your fucking business,” I said . . . I think. I was still trying to get a grip on the way his words warped into my brain. I closed my eyes and pushed them away, concentrating on my bruises, the wet ground, and the bloody meat breath that was still there.

“I’ll decide what is and isn’t my business. What is so important that the dragon bartered you away from us? My employer is very curious to know this,” he said.

Even through the euphoria—for obvious reasons I’ve spent the last year building up a resistance—I noted the “employer.” Not “we,” not “the council,” but his “employer.”

I looked through the haze that was my head. “Who the fuck are you working for now, Alexander?”

“Why, I’m loyal to the Paris Contingency, of course.”

“Bullshit.” I took a gamble. “When did you jump ship to work for Sabine?”

Alexander stood, laughing, as if I’d made a joke.

“ ‘Jumped ship.’ You Americans have a way of making everything sound so crass. I’ve made a new friend is all. You might want to try it sometime,” he said, and kicked me. “It might keep you from ending up in situations like this.”

It was my turn to laugh. “When the Contingency finds out you broke their treaty with a red dragon, I somehow doubt your new friend is going to be much help—”

He sneered, but his eyes told me I’d spooked him. He was scared of Sabine, whoever the hell she was. Whether
of
her or that she’d hang him out to dry, I wasn’t sure.

“You assume they will find out. But enough talk about me, let us talk about you. Apparently you are still not ready to cooperate. That makes me sad, as we must now come up with another way to persuade you.”

I winced as a stake dug into the side of my lower back.

“I hear humans are quite fond of their kidneys. I’ve also heard they are quite the delicacy. Shall we try out those theories?”

I bit down on my lower lip, hard, but didn’t make a sound. As soon as I told Alexander what he wanted to know, he’d kill me . . . or worse.

The tip of the stake dug in further and broke the skin. I yelled.

“No, Owl? Still not willing to chat? What else can I do to loosen your tongue, hmmm?” Alexander held up his hand in mockery of an epiphany. “Wait, I have an idea.”

The pressure on my upper back eased slightly as the stake was lifted. Alexander flicked his hand. The vampire holding me dropped my bound hands and grabbed my neck like a vise so I couldn’t turn my head.

A new vampire—that made four in total now, this one looking even younger than Alexander—stepped in front of me. My heart jumped up in my throat.

He held a struggling, fully awake and bound Captain. They’d pried open his mouth and gagged him with a medieval-looking bit and ball. With his paws trussed up, he looked like a pig at Christmas. Captain was doing his damn best to get free, but it was no use. With the vampire pheromones coursing through me, I couldn’t stop myself from crying out.

Alexander placed a hand on Captain’s head. “I remembered this cat from the last time I had the pleasure of your company in Egypt, but when he did this . . .” Alexander stroked the thin scar that ran the length of his cheek from under his eye to his mouth. “ . . . small inconvenience, I did not think of him as much more than a nuisance. Imagine my surprise when the scratch did not heal.” I couldn’t do anything but watch as Alexander’s grip tightened around Captain’s neck.

“Even more so when one of my superiors told me, ‘But of course, Alexander! The Egyptians bred Mau cats to hunt us like animals. They attack on sight! Their claws are full of venom.’ ” Alexander’s smile turned into a sneer. “I am so disappointed you would be so cruel as to sic him on me, little bird.”

Actually, that had been luck . . . and complete coincidence. Captain had just happened to be crawling around the same tomb as me when Alexander had caught up. Captain had attacked Alexander on
sight and bought both of us time to get out. I’d taken Captain with me, reasoning that any animal with that much of a grudge against vampires deserved better than starved mice for dinner.

“You can imagine my excitement when I found an attic full of contraptions, like this one, all to deal with this particular breed.” He tightened a strap, and the ball wedged further into my cat’s mouth.

I lost it. “You son of a bitch, I swear to God, Alexander, I’m going to wring your scrawny vampire neck and feed you in pieces to my cat—”

“Tell me what I want to know and maybe I’ll only kill you and let your cat go.” He’d been playing the gentleman, but he dropped the act now and just looked like his vicious self.

The goon holding me gave me a shove. I landed on my side and, while they were laughing, noted something cold and cylindrical against my ankle.

They’d missed my UV laser pointer hidden in the cuff of my boot.

Adrenaline picking up and overriding some of the pheromones, I slid my bound hands into the cuff while I pushed myself back up onto my knees and palmed it into my sleeves. All I had to do now was get out of the rope. Not as hard as you think—big wrists, small hands. I just had to buy some time.

I nodded at the vampire holding Captain by the scruff of his neck as I worked the ropes. “Let the damn cat go and I’ll tell you everything you want to know, including what Mr. Kurosawa has me after.”

BOOK: Owl and the Japanese Circus
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