Blood Song

the hunger that had drool running from the corner of my mouth.

She tried to back away, shoving herself with her good leg, a trail of smudged blood shocking red

against the stark white linoleum.

I fought not to fol ow, fought every instinct with the one remaining shred of humanity left to me.

The door to the observation room slammed open. Gerry and Dr. Scott burst into the room, both

panting hard from exertion. They took in the scene on the other side of the window with a single

horrified glance.

“Thank God!” Greene shouted. “Save me. She’s gone feral!”

“Liar.” My voice sounded not the least bit human.

“Dr. Greene, please. Don’t antagonize her.” Dr. Scott’s voice was stil a little breathy, but calm, and I

could feel him using his talent to try to reach the part of me that was stil human, to soothe and calm

me. “Celia, you must stay calm. Vicki told me everything. The police are on the way here and to the

church. You’ve done nothing wrong, and we’l find proof of that. But you must hold on.”

I turned to look at him, the movement difficult and disjointed, as if my body were unwil ing to fol ow the

orders my brain was giving it. My skin was glowing.

“I’m going to send Gerry to get you some food, and then I’m coming in to treat Dr. Greene’s injury. I

can’t let her die. Can you let me do that?”

“Yes.” I forced the word through clenched jaws.

“Good. Now if you’l back up to the far corner, please.” He moved past Gerry, who was standing, pale

and shaking, in front of the door. He’d switched off the intercom before turning to leave, but with my

heightened senses I could stil hear them as clearly as if we were in the same room.

“Are you insane? You can’t mean to go in there with that … thing.”

“I would remind you that Ms. Graves could easily have kil ed and eaten the doctor. She hasn’t. In fact,

she’s shown admirable self-control. But it would be foolish to push the issue by leaving her in there with

a bleeding woman. So go to the kitchen and get her some food. Now.”

Gerry left. I heard his footfal s going down the hal at a jog that was not quite a run. And I heard Dr.

Scott’s gentle knock on the door.

I managed to make it through the next few minutes without kil ing anyone, but I don’t know how. It was

one of the hardest things I’d done in my life. I wanted to kil Greene. Not just the beast in me, but the

human part as wel . Because a part of me felt she’d deserved it. Reverend Al was dead—the cops

arrived in time to protect the people in the church from the bad guys, but the drugs in the pizza had

reacted with the pain meds he was on for an old footbal injury. I knew al this because Vicki had Alex

make some cal s.

I’d been kidnapped and set up for a perfect frame. Even if I was proven not guilty in a court of law, I

was a monster. I’d be locked up in one of the state institutions, probably never to see the light of day

again.

But it didn’t happen.

Everything worked out exactly the way I needed it to. To the sound of ocean waves and the cal of

gul s. It wasn’t subtle, and there’d be a price to pay. But I did what I had to do.

Was it wrong to manipulate everyone I dealt with? Hell, yeah. Did I care? No. Because I was running

out of time. Everything, from start to finish, was tied to the plots against King Dahlmar. Good people

were dead, I’d been turned into a monster, and demons were loose in the city. While it seemed to me to

be a lot of trouble just for a pool of natural gas under Rusland, there could wel be things I wasn’t aware

of yet.

Tonight the king would go to the World Series game. Tomorrow, first thing, he was scheduled to fly

back home with his sons and entourage. Security before and after would be incredibly tight, but there’s

only so much you can do in a crowded public venue. It was al going down at the game. I’d have bet my

life on it. Greene’s comment about Kevin had just confirmed what I already suspected.

Gibson pul ed up to the door of Birchwoods administration building in the same midsized Buick sedan

I’d ridden with him in earlier. I was climbing into the front seat almost before the vehicle had come to a

complete stop. I didn’t dare dawdle in case the mojo wore off. That was entirely possible, since I didn’t

real y know what in the hel I was doing.

I pul ed the seat belt tight over my oh-so-chic gray Birchwoods sweats. At least they were clean, and

better than the stuff I’d borrowed from Bruno, even if I was liable to die from heat prostration. “Did you

get everything?” I reached into the bag on the seat next to me and began rifling through its contents.

“Yeah.” Gibson pul ed the car around the circle drive, heading toward the gate. Gerry was there, but

he didn’t smile or wave. No surprise.

“I’ve got to tel you, that little toy of yours is worth damned near as much as this car.” He didn’t bother

to keep the disgust from his voice.

“Yeah, wel , I’m the one paying for it. And if we need it, it wil be worth twice the price.” I pul ed out an

assortment of gaudy holy items and a pair of mirrored sunglasses that I slipped on. Next were an

Angels cap and a new denim jacket. I pul ed the former onto my head and yanked the price tags off the

latter, unbuttoning it to reveal the lining. Sure enough, tacked pockets. Perfect.

I slid a pair of single-shot squirt guns into the slots made by the stitching and began unwrapping the

replacement sensor car. This time I’d splurged on the deluxe model. It looked exactly like the one Matty

used. Taking it from the hinged jewel case it came in, I tucked it into my pocket and began skimming the

directions. It worked basical y the same way as my previous one, but with a few added features. Good

to know.

Last, but not least, I grabbed the smal blue water bottle with a sponge on the end that you can buy at

any office supply store to seal envelopes. Twisting off the cap, I fil ed the bottle with holy water. Sealing

it closed, I tucked it into the right side pocket of my jacket, the opposite side from where I’d put the

gizmo. Taking a deep breath, I told myself I was ready.

I lied.

Gibson had slowed the car nearly to a stop. Not that he had much choice. It was already 4:15 and

traffic to the bal park had things jammed up back onto the highway. “The king’s driver, Ivan, wil meet us

at the giant cap on the right with the replacement tickets.”

“Good.” I didn’t look up, I was too busy checking the water pistols one last time, making sure that

they’d function if I had to fire them. I’ve always had better luck with the actual One Shot brand than with

the imitations, but Gibson had been doing the buying.

“I wish he’d have cal ed it off,” Gibson said. “It’s stupid to deliberately walk into a trap.”

“No chance. He wants to find the traitor and to know whether or not his sons are involved. He figures

his people can handle whatever comes up. They’ve had plenty of warning.” I grinned. “Of course, he

may decide to hire a double. If a spawn does a shapechange, it actual y becomes a double of the

target’s body. Fools fingerprints, voice analysis, lab work. Everything down to DNA.”

“I know,” Gibson said bitterly. “Makes life hard for us cops. Fortunately, there aren’t too many spawn

out there.”