Demon Song

floated. That’s never good. Only the really old ones can do that. “This isn’t anywhere close to your side of town, Celia. You don’t make the rules here.”

Oh, crap. I didn’t know the voice, but he knew my name. He floated on power, gleaming with both internal and external light. He’d been killed early in life but long, long ago. The black eyes were ancient, pitiless and remorseless. The slope of the nose and high cheekbones reminded me of high-caste Spanish.

“Do I know you?”

He smiled, but it was really more a baring of fangs. “Lucien was right. You’re just eye candy. You got lucky with Luther and Lilith. But Edgar’s a fool for trusting you. That’s why I decided to start my own flock. We don’t trust anybody.” He moved slowly forward and so did his fledglings, widening their group to flank me.

I guess that meant I wasn’t going to get a name. I pulled my knives from the sheaths. He stopped abruptly and stared at the twin blades. “Are those the blades that killed Luther? They witched?”

“Better than you’ve ever seen. The black one killed Lilith, too. You willing to risk whether I’m faster than you?”

“She’s not bluffing, Marco.” The voice seemed to come from far away and echoed between the buildings like it was everywhere.

Just as Edgar descended onto the scene, Marco hissed. He snarled, showing sharp teeth. “Nobody invited you to this party, Edgar. We’ll all be better off if I just let the fledglings take her down. She’s an abomination. My boys are still feral enough that she won’t be able to handle them if they attack at once.”

Unfortunately, he was probably right. Three against one is just plain bad odds. If I lost even one of the knives, I was probably a goner.

Edgar looked at me and there was something in his eyes that hadn’t been there the previous night. Desire.

It wasn’t sexual, but it was real. “Why kill her fully? She would be an amazing vampire. Tough, fierce, smart. A force to be reckoned with.” He smiled and it made every hair on my body stand at attention.

Now Marco was smiling, too. Shit. “We could call her Lilith in honor of the one we lost. She’ll never know the difference once her memories are gone.”

Five against one, and I’d seen Edgar fight. “I helped you save Kevin.” I was down to bargaining as I tried to find a wall to keep my back safe.

Edgar took another step forward. He wore chino pants, a gray dress shirt, and shining black dress shoes that were more suited to a boardroom than a slaughter on a deserted street. “True. And I’m certain he’s grateful. But you don’t realize just how safe it made you when I believed you were his Vaso. Now he doesn’t have a clue where you are. If you were attacked by three feral new-turns and I saved you by bringing you over, there wouldn’t be much he could do. Would there?”

Marco was licking his lips and drooling all over the ground. “I’ve heard siren blood is like nothing else. Never had the chance to test that rumor.”

I took another step back and my heel caught the edge of a discarded bottle. I lost my balance for one brief moment and the air blurred as they descended. My arms were pulled nearly out of their sockets and my knives disappeared. Where Edgar smelled of expensive cologne and mouthwash, Marco smelled of sweat and leather. They were on either side of me, close enough that one strike would end it.

Edgar’s face moved forward like lightning and I braced myself, waiting for the pain. But it didn’t happen. Instead, I heard his voice in my ear like velvet over steel. “What will you give up for your life, Celia Graves? I can put a stop to this right now.”

I didn’t want to answer, but I heard my own voice, breathy with fear: “What do you want?”

“Kill her,” Marco hissed. I ignored him. Edgar was the one with all the chips at the table.

“I want the artifact. If you swear you’ll bring it to me, I’ll end this and make your favorite cafe nice place for tourists again. If not, then I bring you over and you’ll still bring me the artifact. Except you’ll be just like me—preying on friends, clients, and your saintly old grandmother for your next meal. And this time, I will be your master.”

That set my blood boiling and I pulled away from the young vamps holding my arms. My muscles screamed in agony, but I put the pain aside. Unfortunately, I hadn’t a clue what Edgar was talking about. The only artifact I had in my possession was an ancient divination tool called a Wadjeti that had been given to me by … well, crap. It had been given to me by Eirene and Stefania. If Edgar wanted that, there had to be more to it than I’d thought.

Marco leapt backward when I crouched to fight, but Edgar held his ground and laughed. “You’re definitely a fiery one. But you’ll lose. You can’t win with these odds.”

“She can with a little help!” The male voice had a heavy Mexican accent and was followed by the sharp retort of a shotgun. One of the fledglings caught the blast full in the face. Whatever was in the rounds caused him to scream and race into the darkness before falling to lie still and silent at the edge of the next circle of light.

Pablo carried a double-barrel shotgun, but Marco floated into the air with confidence. “I’ll take care of the little man. You handle the girl.”

“Chicken!” I taunted him, not sure what I could do to help my friend. Then I realized he didn’t need help. Barbara stepped out of the restaurant behind him, also carrying a shotgun, followed by Juan, their oldest son—who looked serious and competent as he jacked a round into the chamber of his pump-action weapon.

Nearby, two more shop doors opened and more shotguns appeared. A trigger was pulled. The young vamp to my right tried to dodge, but his chest exploded and he screamed as liquid fire burned through him. Then the one on my left was hit. I picked up one of the pellets that bounced on the ground and squished it between my fingers. I’ll be damned. I didn’t know they were putting holy water into pellets. It was like a high-powered paintball. Probably wouldn’t kill a regular human, just bruise. But a vamp? Instant agony.

The third new-turn had enough sense to turn on his heel and run. Marco wasn’t so easily dismissed. He descended on Pablo like an eagle, long duster flaring behind him like a cape, fangs as sharp as talons. Without even thinking, I pushed Edgar out of the way and raced forward, knocking Marco out of the air before he could collide with my friend. Juan and Barbara started taking potshots at Edgar. He must have realized he’d lost the upper hand, but he took a flying leap and landed on top of me. My face planted into the asphalt, chin first, as Edgar grabbed Marco with one hand and soared into the sky.

Edgar paused to give me a parting comment, just out of reach of the rounds of holy water blasting out of shotguns from nearly every window on the block: “This isn’t over, Celia. My offer stands. You can’t stay awake forever and I know where you live.”

I was bleeding from nose and mouth as Barbara rushed over to help me up. People were collecting the bodies of the two boys who were from the neighborhood. The people’s faces showed mingled pride and sorrow as they cut a branch from a nearby tree and sharpened the wood into a stake. The vamp with his face shot off was still alive enough to thrash under strong arms as the stake was driven into his heart. A wailing woman in the background was held back as three men struggled to put him down. Then he was still and the woman—probably his mother—was allowed forward to cry over the son she’d actually lost many nights before.

“Celia,” Barbara admonished with both fear and cracking pride in her voice, “I told you he was a bad one. But did you listen?” She dusted off my clothes while handing me her dish towel to mop the blood from my face. I heard a sniffle and looked down to see her eyes wet with tears. “No, you didn’t. And it was a very brave thing. It made everyone feel ashamed that we hadn’t stood up to them earlier.”

That hadn’t been my intent, but I was glad it worked out. Damn, but my mouth hurt. I didn’t think my nose was broken, but I definitely needed to see what my mouth looked like. “Bafrom?” I asked with a mouthful of cotton, and pointed to the open doorway. She let out a surprised sound and hurried me into the building. We were followed by a dozen other people, cheering and shouting my name like I was a conquering hero.

Except the hero isn’t the one who’s supposed to need saving. I felt like a complete idiot. I’d taken the enemy for granted and barely scraped out by the skin of my teeth.

Speaking of my teeth … I turned on the light in the ladies’ room and worriedly held back my lips. My bottom lip was cut in two places where my fangs had dug in. That accounted for the blood. But my two front teeth and one fang were loose. I could wiggle them and it hurt when I did. I didn’t know what would happen if I broke a fang. It was probably worth asking someone about. I was definitely going to have a fat lip in a few minutes. I hoped it wouldn’t last too long.

When I exited the bathroom, cheers went up a second time. Barbara and Pablo bustled forward and guided