Biting Bad (Chicagoland Vampires 8) - Page 80

His army moved closer toward us, the circle growing tighter.

My stomach knotted with nerves, already taut from the spill of nervous magic that permeated the room.

"Catcher?" Ethan prompted.

"We're out of mojo at the moment," he said. "Currently refueling." Sorcerers had a limited amount of magical draw at any one time.

"Then I think we do this the old-fashioned way," Ethan said. "Novitiates?"

"Ready," we said together.

"Jeff, you want to get busy?" I asked.

"Done and done," Jeff said, and a blinding flash of light shot across the space, as human man turned into gigantic, stalking white tiger.

It was just the distraction we needed.

"Go!" Ethan said, and like the soldiers in a centuries-old battle, we rushed toward each other, weapons raised.

Ethan ran toward McKetrick. I took the minion closest to me. Creatively, he dodged immediately for my feet. Unfortunately for him, I brought the butt of my sword down onto his head, sending him flat to the floor.

Two former vampires, both in snug T-shirts and stylish sheepskin boots, came at me from either side, both with box cutters in hand. There was something pitiful about the weaponry, not just because McKetrick hadn't trusted them enough, but because he also clearly hadn't cared enough to make them anything other than expendable.

"You don't have to fight us, you know," I said, dodging one strike and sending my sword wheeling around to try to catch the other girl off-kilter.

"You're the enemy," she said, dodging the strike and kicking me in the ribs. "You think I wanted to be a monster? My family kicked me out. I got fired. You think this is any way to live? Crawling around in the dark like a snake?"

"You have immortality," I reminded her, as the other girl tried to box my ears. I got her in the stomach with the butt of the sword, a classic move, and offered the mouthy one a spinning crescent kick. She moved backward but stumbled over a box and hit the ground, skittering away. . . . Unfortunately, she skittered right into the face of a Siberian tiger, who dared her to move.

She fainted dead away, which saved us both the trouble.

But her friend wasn't impressed. "Vampire whore!" she screamed out, jumping on my back and wrapping her arms around my neck. I tried to shake her off, but she was strong and nimble.

"Mouth!" I warned her, maneuvering backward toward a stack of the boxes, and mashing her backward into them until she finally fell away.

Then she got a kick to the head for her trouble.

Sirens suddenly wailed outside, audible because the doors had been thrown open. A swarm of men and women in black uniforms with guns moved inside.

I guessed our time was up. The CPD had arrived.

"Chicago Police Department!" cried the leader. "All weapons on the ground!" they said. "Right now, all weapons on the ground. Hands on the back of your heads. All of you!"

To a one, humans and sups alike dropped their weapons.

Except for one man.

Ethan stood over McKetrick, sword in hand. "It would be so easy, you know. So easy for me to do this, to take your life as you've taken the lives of so many others."

"Do it," McKetrick gritted out. "Do it." McKetrick dared him to murder, expecting, of course, that Ethan would oblige him. McKetrick might be dead, but his vengeance and his plan would be utterly validated. He'd have proved that vampires were merciless killing machines.

"The problem is," Ethan said, "I'm not you."

He tossed his sword away and stepped back, raising his arms as the CPD surrounded McKetrick.

"It's over," Ethan said. "And good riddance to you."

Detective Jacobs had given us a head start, just enough to work out some aggression against McKetrick and the others, but not so long that we'd have to make too many excuses.

Detective Jacobs whistled when he saw the processing equipment in the back. But despite the equipment, there wasn't a single syringe in sight. Apparently, McKetrick hadn't actually been able to get the assembly line working. He'd manufactured the serum a syringe at a time, and Brooklyn had gotten the last one.

A top-of-the-line computer sat on a top-of-the-line desk, and when Jacobs's tech guys booted it up, they found information aplenty: e-mails to and from McKetrick and the rioters, a copy of the chemical analysis Alan Bryant had given him, copies of the materials he'd stolen from Bryant Industries, and years of records regarding his attempts to sabotage and assassinate vampires across the country.

When the debriefing was over, with its very satisfying result, we were officially dismissed; we walked across the warehouse floor to the front door.

I happened to glance down, where a glint of silver caught my eye. There on the ground, resting halfway beneath a wooden pallet, was a single syringe, filled with a pale green fluid. It gleamed like a jewel and promised things I hadn't thought to ask for in a very long time.

Humanity.

The allure was stronger than I would have imagined, as memories plucked at my heartstrings: Sunshine. Summer boat rides on the lake. Morning jogs in the chill of spring. Shopping at noon on a Saturday. Spending my remaining human years with my family, instead of living long past them. Finishing my dissertation, becoming a professor.

Having children.

Generally, leaving my life as a vampire behind.

Leaving Ethan behind. For even if we stayed together despite our differences, I would age and die, and he would not. I would leave him alone to face the centuries, to find another. I would leave him in the hands of another Sentinel, someone who would have the responsibility of watching over him, of keeping him safe.

And not just Ethan. My grandfather. Mallory. My nieces and nephews. Their children, and their children's children.

I wasn't leaving their lives to chance. Not when I had the choice.

I had a choice . . . and I took it.

I picked up the syringe and hurried to catch up with the rest of them.

"Jonah," I said, getting his attention and handing it to him.

He looked quizzically up at me.

"For Brooklyn," I explained. "Maybe Dr. Gianakous can use it to find a cure for her condition."

He smiled. "Thanks, Merit."

The deed done, I took Ethan's hand, and walked into the life I'd chosen.

Malik met us in the foyer when we walked into the House.

"Congratulations on a successful mission," he said. "And Lakshmi Rao is on the phone."

"I swear to God, it never ends!" Ethan roared.

"Not when you're immortal," Malik agreed. "That's actually the point."

Tags: Chloe Neill Chicagoland Vampires Vampires
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