“Hell,” Calaphase said. “We need to get out of here.”
“Why?” I said. “We need the help, and we’ve done nothing wrong-”
“ You maybe,” Gettyson spat, tearing off his jacket. “But the werekin here just got outed!”
“But… ” I said. “But I never gave away the werehouse’s location.”
“You idiot! You let them track you! ” Gettyson shouted, throwing his jacket at me.
The moment he said it, I knew he was right. Stunned, I watched him tear off into the distance as DEI agents slid down from two of the helicopters on wires. Several followed him, and a team of four converged upon us as the Shadowhawks swung round and settled towards the ground. They had their guns out. They had their guns out. I had to stop this.
“Let me handle this,” Calaphase said, starting forward. “I-”
“No,” I said sharply. “Stay here. Cop doesn’t mix well with vamp. You too, honey, you just lie here,” I said, patting Cinnamon’s head. “Let me deal with the police.”
“Mom?” she asked, then sat up sharply. “ Mom! ”
“Hey, hey,” I cried, waving my arms at the flak-jacketed agents. “Thank God you’re here, but what’s with the ordinance? We need fire fighters, not a fire fight.”
“On the ground!” the lead agent shouted, a big, tough black man with close-trimmed hair and a no-nonsense demeanor-but his eyes were a bit wild. “On the ground now!”
I was appalled, but I didn’t let him stop me. He was a cop, and, fundamentally, we were on the same side. All I had to do was keep everyone talking until we were all calmed down.
“Whoa, gentlemen. I’m the official representative of the Little-of the Oakdale vampire clan,” I said, spreading my hands. “We provide security on this site under the umbrella of the Vampire Consulates of Atlanta, and as you can see we’ve got a situation here-”
“Shut it!” the agent shouted-enraged, buzz cut, jaaaar head. “On the ground.”
“Where the hell do you think you are, federal land?” I said. “Maybe you didn’t notice zip-lining down from Shamu the Flying Leafblower there, but it’s posted-you’re trespassing. If you ain’t here to help, I sure as hell hope you have a no-knock warrant-”
“What the hell’s this?” a second DEI agent said, training his shotgun on me. It was a Benelli, the kind Philip used. “A street lawyer?”
“More importantly, what the hell’s that? ” a third agent said, pointing behind me. “It’s like she’s half tiger or something.”
“Oh, shit,” the second one said. “We’ve got a lyke changing here.”
Oh, hell no. “What you’ve got is more than you can handle,” I said, raising my hands towards them and sliding one foot back, “unless you cough up a warrant-”
“Shut it!” the first agent said, as the others tried to flank me. “All right, street lawyer, back to law school. Myers, cuff her. Johann, Briggs, secure the lyke before she changes.”
“ Spirit of justice, shield my stand,” I said-and shot both hands out wide.
My vines unfolded, and in shock the agent fired. The blast scattered off my growing shield, stung my skin- what were they using? silver? salt? a mixture? -and knocked me back. I was shocked by the noise and impact and my face flushed in terror-but there was no way the agents could see that through the green glow of my vines shining on their astonished faces.
I settled into a solid karate stance, extending my vines out into a thicket to bar their path to my child and friends. As I settled and my vines thickened, they glowed brighter, their green overpowering the red light of the flames-and the officers backed up. Apparently skindancing was rare enough they simply weren’t prepared, and just looked dumbfounded.
“Settle down, gentlemen,” I said, trying not to let my shaking show. Jesus Christ. I just got shot in the chest. But these men had been coming after my child, and if I’d learned anything from Taido, it was this: don’t initiate violence, but once your guard’s up, never let it down. “Until I see a warrant, you aren’t badges, you’re just trespassers on private property.”
“Down, Dakota,” said Special Agent Philip Davidson, striding briskly forward from the now-landed copter, shotgun over his shoulders. He wore a flak jacket over one of his thousand-dollar suits, his brown hair looked black in the dying light of the flames, and his goatee made him look like a villain-but he was smiling. Part of me was glad to see him; the rest wanted to punch him for letting his officers get this far out of hand. “And stand down, gentlemen.”
“This ain’t your op, Davidson,” the first officer cracked. “And Namura said-”
“ I’m the ranking officer,” Philip said, “and I’ll deal with the Director. Stand down.”
“Philip,” I said, easing down, furling my vines-slowly. “I’m so glad to see you.”
“Dakota, you should know better than to interfere with Federal agents. I should arrest you on general principles.” But he stopped next to the agent who’d fired, radiating the calm disapproval he was so good at. “I said there would be civilians on scene. Did you just discharge your weapon point-blank onto my unarmed girlfriend while her hands were empty?”
“But there’s a lyke-and she was-” the agent began. “Uh, no, well, uh, sir-”
“Make that ‘uh, yes sir’-he did shoot little old unarmed me,” I said, not giving Philip ‘girlfriend’ after the ‘valuable resource’ crack-but folding my arms so he wouldn’t see my hands tremble. “And yes, my hands were indeed up-”
“But she was resisting,” the agent said, as Philip just stared at him.
“Standing with my hands out pleading for calm?” I said, glaring. “Look, maybe I was being hardnosed; but that’s my daughter back there. You didn’t leave me any choice.”
“Only you, Dakota, could take a shotgun blast to the chest and then apologize for being hardnosed,” Philip said, amazed, stepping right up to me, hands touching a hole in my vest.
“Holy shit,” I murmured; my vines had protected me, but not my clothes. I deflated a little. “I didn’t expect that.”
“Lucky woman is the phrase I’d use,” Philip said. “After your ‘emotional experience’ you had toned your bravado down; I take it the volume’s back up?”
“I wish you hadn’t brought that up,” I said. ‘Emotional experience’ was a bit of Fed jargon for getting the shit kicked out of you-in my case, by the vampire Transomnia. It didn’t take much for me to see his cold red eyes, to feel my fingers in those garden clippers, to remember that I could tattoo now only because he’d let me go. “I was trying to forget.”
“I was trying to make you remember,” Philip said, finger picking at a hole in my corset. “You’ve got to think things through. No agent will take chances arresting a werekin-at the first sign of resistance they’ll shoot first and sort it out later. What if you’d been a half second slower with your shield? You’d be dead and probably would everyone else on your side.”
“What was I supposed to do?” I said. “Lie down and hope?”
“That’s the law,” Philip said firmly. “Anything else is resisting arrest-”
“The phrase I’d use is defending my daughter,” I said hotly. “Philip, I was raised on the force and I reject the idea cops can’t listen to reason. Why didn’t you prep the agents?”
“I tried, but I can’t be everywhere watching over every agent’s shoulder-and what if I hadn’t been here at all?” He reached out and briefly squeezed my shaking hand. “You can’t count on me to always ride to your rescue, no matter how much I’d like to.”
“I know,” I said. I was still steamed, but I still tingled at the brief brush of his fingers. Then Calaphase shifted behind me uncomfortably-and Philip caught it.
“That your new beau?” he asked, leaning slightly so he could stare around my shoulder. Philip was shorter than most, though it didn’t show, given how he carried himself. “The fang? ”
“If you mean the blond vampire,” I said, frowning, “we’ve had one half -date, and if you feel jealous, you should have seen the look on Saffron’s face when she ran into us.”
Philip looked up sharply, saw the missing collar. “Oh, I’m sorry,” he said. “Though I could see how she would see it as a breach of trust.”
“Breach of trust?” I said. “ You had me tailed-”
“I’d never have you tailed,” Philip said, glancing over his shoulder, “and you have to know sending an assault unit into a werehouse filled with children was not my idea.”
