Page 52 of The Lunatics

“I can’t do anything,” the witch said from beside me. I’d forgotten she was there. She must have tried to cast a spell. “They’re too close. I might hit your friend.”

“It’s okay. Stay here,” I told her. I’d had just about enough of watching a vampire try to hurt my mate.

The vamp in question was back on its feet. Michael stepped in and dropped low, aiming a sweeping kick at its ankles. The bloodsucker saw the move coming and leapt up on legs that seemed made of springs. It shot straight into the air, back arched, knees drawn to its chest. A murderous gleam appeared in its eyes as it started to fall.

Oh no you don’t.

I raced forward and grabbed it out of the air, using its momentum to turn its big body and slam it down into the concrete. I didn’t have Michael’s grace, but what I lacked in training, I made up for in raw, brute strength. The vampire’s bones shuddered. The pavement groaned beneath it. I dropped to one knee and held it down by the throat, my claws digging in, blood for blood.

“How’s it feel, asshole?” I growled.

It squirmed beneath me and tore at my hand, ripping my skinto ribbons. Shit, that hurt! I gritted my teeth against the searing pain and squeezed harder, cutting off its airway. It stopped scratching and started trying to pull my fingers off.

Through the bond, I felt Michael move, and I looked up just in time to see him drive a wicked length of rebar straight through the vampire’s chest. Undead blood sprayed the side of my face, viscous and hot. The creature shuddered, eyes bulging out of their sockets. Michael wore a look of dark satisfaction as he gripped the top of the metal bar and wrenched it back and forth, mangling the vampire’s heart. The vampire spasmed once and fell still, staring past me with dead eyes up into the night sky.

I released it and stumbled back, falling on my ass. My concentration evaporated as I bounced off the pavement, and I shrank back to my human form. Warmth dripped down my right cheek. I wiped at it with shaking fingers that came away sticky and crimson.

Oh, Goddess. We’d killed it.

The witch sprinted forward and kicked the vamp’s ribs. Her face was a mask of fury. “Fuck you, you fucking fuck!” She pulled back and kicked it again, so hard the body jerked. The next time she did it, the toes of her sneaker squelched into its flesh. “Oh,gross,” she said, hopping back.

I scuttled away from the corpse. When vampires died, the magic animating their undead bodies disappeared, returning them to their natural state. For a vampire that was less than a year undead, that meant we were treated to a horror show of advanced decomposition. Its skin turned sallow, yellow in some places and puce in others. A wet sheen spread over it, taking on a glossy green hue. Its mouth popped open and a foul wind spilled out that smelled like methane and sulfur.

I stared, transfixed by the nightmare unfolding in front of me. The creature’s exposed flesh roiled just beneath the surface, collapsing down and then ballooning back up before popping openin sores and pustules. Its limbs quickly lost their mass, shrinking within its clothes. Liquid stained the fabric of its shirt and pants, a dark river of putrescent yuck draining out from its sleeves and pant legs. Its stomach bloated outward like a beached whale. Those nacreous eyes turned pale and milky before bursting open like overripe grapes. White slime spilled down its cheeks.

I scrambled to my feet and turned away from the sight, trying not to gag. Behind me, the witch vomited noisily. Meanwhile, Michael felt calm and composed. Why wasn’t he freaked out by this? Was this a common sight for a city wolf? I tried to latch onto his calm, make it my own, but it remained just out of reach.

A few seconds later, the sibilant shifting of fabric reached my ears, and Michael’s jacket came into view, dangling off his finger.

“Here,” he said.

Oh, right. I’d ripped my dress.

He stepped close and took a deep, measured breath through his nose, scenting me. I was so freaked out right now that the reek of my fear must have been overpowering. The Goddess only knew what I sent over the bond. To Michael, I probably felt close to going into shock. I took the jacket from him and slipped it on, fingers shaking, limbs trembling. Maybe Iwasclose to going into shock.

Michael pulled his phone out and made a call.

“Where are you?” Ronald rumbled through the speaker.

Michael relayed our location. “We have a problem. Code red. Teams one and seven to me now.”

“Roger,” Ronald said, then hung up.

The witch straightened, dragged the back of her hand across her mouth, and stumbled over to us. “Jesus fucking Christ, they’re gross when they die.”

Michael reached toward me and pulled the cotton pocket square from his suit jacket. He offered it to her. “You’re still bleeding.”

She took it and pressed it to her neck. “Thank you.”

“Can you cloak the alleyway?” he asked her.

“Way ahead of you,” she said. “The humans can’t see or hear anything in here.”

He tilted his head and inspected her. “What were you doing in the alley in the first place?”

“What I was told.”

“And what were you told?”