Part 7 (1/2)
Lacey and Lethal.
Chapter One.
Lacey held her breath. She wrapped her hand tighter around the weapon, knowing she couldn't afford to miss the target. She would only get one shot and if she blew it, it would be a deadly mistake. The wind stirred and she nearly backed away from the edge of the building. A breeze wasn't her friend.
The back door of the club swung open, hit the wall, and one of them stepped outside. He stood in the shadows, paused while the door closed at his back, and light flared from a small source. A grimace twisted her lips. Of course he wouldn't be worried about getting cancer from smoking a cigarette.
”Do it,” a male voice whispered from the earpiece wedged inside her left ear. ”Take the shot and bring that b.a.s.t.a.r.d down.”
Her boss stating the obvious annoyed her. She'd climbed a rickety fire escape to the top of what should be a condemned building to do exactly that. She adjusted the barrel just enough to get a bead on the shadowy figure of the tall man, took aim, and pulled the trigger.
The rifle barely made a sound but she could have sworn he heard it when his gaze turned her way, as if he was curious to identify the noise.
Just before he collapsed, she glimpsed long, muscular legs encased in black leather. She shot him again in the muscle of his calf, the silvery dart visible against the black.
”Go! He's down. Move it!”
An engine roared to life and headlights blinked on from farther down the alley. Tires squealed as a van shot forward then skidded to a stop as the side door rolled open and two burly men jumped out. They grabbed the motionless, drugged man on the ground, moving fast to scoop him up and dump him inside. The driver punched the gas and the van took off.
Lacey backed away from where she'd hidden, keeping low and quiet in case the guy's friends heard the commotion and rushed out of the club. She shoved her rifle into the holster that was slung across her back. She gripped the rope she'd tied to the air-conditioning unit and jumped, praying it would hold her weight.
Her body slammed against brick but she eased her grip and quickly slid lower, leather gloves protecting her skin. She reached the ground safely, heard the roar of the engine coming at her, and turned her head.
”s.h.i.+t. I hate this part,” she muttered. Jeff wouldn't stop but he'd slow down. She hesitated, gauged the speed of the van and began running ahead of it, keeping as close to the wall as possible.
Fear made her heart race. The guy they'd tagged didn't live alone inside that club. If the others had heard anything, they'd be coming outside, searching for him. They could be hot on her a.s.s and she wouldn't know it until they had her. The b.a.s.t.a.r.ds moved lightning fast.
She turned her head and threw out her hand when the van slowed. Matt reached from the open doorway, one strong arm thrust outward while he clung to an interior handle.
Their hands clasped and he yanked hard. Pain shot through her shoulder as she was hoisted off her feet and jerked inside the van. He released her as soon as she was inside. She landed on something soft. Something large and warm was sprawled out under her.
Her gloved hand felt crushed from Matt's grip but she flexed her fingers and knew nothing was broken. The van door slammed closed and darkness reigned as the vehicle picked up speed.
”Brace!” Jeff, her boss, yelled.
The van turned sharply, the tires protesting as the van tilted toward the left. Lacey tensed, tried to grab hold of something, but rolled and slammed into the opposite wall. A heavy weight flopped over her legs. She grimaced, her shoulder aching. The van righted, picking up even more speed.
An interior light came on. She glanced at a pale Matt and a frightened-looking newbie. She looked down while removing her gloves and cursed. The guy they'd taken was facedown now, his legs tangled with hers. She sat up to stop the rifle from digging into her shoulder blade.
”That was easy.” Matt grinned.
”Screw you. Next time you can be the one who scales down a building without a safety harness and feels like a fish being yanked onto a moving boat.” She rolled her shoulder. ”You'd have dislocated my shoulder if you were any stronger.”
A loud bang from the top of the van startled them.
Lacey's gaze jerked to the roof and she watched in stunned shock as something sharp pierced the top of the vehicle. The long blade sliced it as easily as a can opener.
Is that a d.a.m.n sword? Really?
The newbie screamed in a high-pitched girly wail as he scrambled to the back of the van. Matt kept his cool, tossing a handgun at Lacey. She caught it, leaned back flat, and began firing at the roof.
”We have a pa.s.senger!” Matt bellowed.
The sword withdrew and the van lurched wildly as Jeff spun the wheel sharply in an attempt to knock the person off the roof. Something thumped and rolled away. Lacey stopped firing, ejected the empty clip, and held out her hand. Matt threw her a fresh one. She barely caught it, slammed it home, and waited.
The long blade didn't tear through the roof again. She looked at Matt and he nodded. He gripped the side door, shoved it hard, and then dived toward the back. The door rolled open.
Lacey scrambled back against the opposite side, her gun trained on the opening-but nothing happened.
She relaxed, watching the buildings fly by as the van picked up speed. Matt crawled forward to close the door.
”I hate our job,” he muttered.
”Jesus,” the newbie sobbed.
Lacey held Matt's gaze. ”You shouldn't have brought your brother along.”
He shrugged. ”We're a man down and we needed an extra pair of hands. I couldn't haul that b.a.s.t.a.r.d inside the van by myself. It would have slowed us down, and we just barely got out of there alive.”
She turned her focus on their unwilling guest. He took up a lot of floor s.p.a.ce. His boots were black leather, which matched his tight pants. The jacket was black leather too-one she'd probably keep. It was kick-a.s.s, but would be extremely baggy on her much smaller frame. His hair held her attention next as she studied the long, black, silky strands that lay in a messy ma.s.s that covered his face.
”He has chick hair. It must almost reach his a.s.s.” Matt snorted. ”What a wuss.”
She disagreed as her gaze slowly examined his broad back, trim waist and bulky, muscular thighs. He was ma.s.sive-and would be extremely deadly if the drugs wore off. Lacey climbed to her knees. She slipped her hand into her vest pocket, found another dart, and jabbed it into the guy's nicely rounded a.s.s.
”Three?” Matt crouched on the other side of the unconscious male. ”Do you want to kill him now?”
”He's got to weigh close to two hundred-fifty pounds. They don't stay down long. It's not as if we could kill him with an overdose, and I sure don't want him waking up before dawn.” She shuddered at the thought. They'd all be dead within a minute if that happened. It was a confined s.p.a.ce. He'd take her gun away before she could say ”oh s.h.i.+t,” snap her neck, and make mincemeat out of the rest of the team.
”True.” Matt paled further, probably thinking along the same lines.
”I want to go home,” the newbie sniffed. ”This is some seriously screwed-up s.h.i.+t.”
Matt glared at his brother. ”We're at war. One of these monsters killed our mom. Don't forget that.”
”What if they are following us?”
”That's why we're driving around,” Matt explained. ”To make certain we've lost them.”
Sadness gripped Lacey as she settled down on her a.s.s. Their ragtag group was small, one of numerous teams out there trying to stop the hidden killers who stepped out of the shadows and took many loved ones. She'd lost her sister, Beth, to one of the monsters. Vampires were a menace to humans and deserved to be exterminated.
Ten minutes later, the van finally stopped and the engine died. Jeff opened the side door to examine their catch. ”Good job.”