He grunted and gunned the engine, sliding out and through the traffic like it wasn't jamming up around us. Headlights and billboards lit up the dark of the night, making it feel like it wasn't really night at all. But that wasn't where my head was. Bioengineering with vampires. A s.h.i.+ver slid through me. The humans were going to get us all killed, if that was true.

And then there was Caine. I didn't know him, but the more I thought about him, the more certain I was I'd heard of him. The auburn hair was what had twigged my memory. We'd caught rumors of a red-headed vampire, one who liked to feast on little boys as he sodomized them. Rage lit my senses, urging me to pull him from the trunk and ram a telephone pole up his a.s.s while he begged for mercy I would never give. Calvin tensed.

"Lea, easy, I feel your energy from here, and it's wigging me out."

"Sorry," I gritted the word out.

Somewhere behind us, a sound of a gunshot caught my ears. Calvin didn't twitch. I wasn't surprised he hadn't heard it. Did the gunshot have anything to do with us? The chances were slim, yet I knew better. On a night like tonight, I had no doubt the shot was somehow tied to us.

I ripped off the seat cus.h.i.+on and punched a hole through to the trunk. Calvin didn't even yell at me. He knew me well enough to trust that I had my reasons.

After tearing through the layers of material and metal, I stared down at Caine, who was trying to work around the filament to grab at one of my guns. The silver netting had cut through to the bone, and the smell of burning flesh was starting to fill the small s.p.a.ce. "Caine, you'd think at your age you'd know better than to fight the inevitable." I reached past him, fingers twitching to bury themselves into his eye sockets, and pulled out my rifle.

My 30-06 Winchester. The old school hunting rifle's wood stock was worn from use-she was one of my first guns and she still shot straight and true. I knelt on the back seat, tucked the gun against my shoulder, and looked through the scope. Another gunshot echoed, this one closer than before.

"Lea, who's after us?"

"Keep steady, Cal. I don't think those shots are meant for us." But the two vehicles weaving in and out of traffic-the obvious source of the firefight-were drawing closer. I didn't recognize the driver of the one in the lead. Long blond hair and a death grip on the wheel was all I really saw as she jerked the car over the curb to avoid smas.h.i.+ng into the jam in front of her. "Good driver."

I s.h.i.+fted to get a look at her pa.s.senger.

The journalist.

I wanted to talk to him. Which meant keeping them alive was a good idea. The second vehicle was the cla.s.sic black sedan used by most government officials.

I punched the back window, wanting as clear a shot as possible. The gla.s.s spider-cracked rather than shattered. With a snarl, I ripped out what remained of it. The woman driving the journalist barely dodged the hunk of window.

Settling the gun stock tight into my shoulder, I sighted down the scope. My crosshairs settled on the forehead of the driver in the black sedan. "Easy as pie," I whispered, breathing out and squeezing the trigger.

The gun bucked, the shot m.u.f.fled by the roar of traffic and honking of p.i.s.sed off drivers. The driver of the black sedan slumped forward, a spray of blood hitting the winds.h.i.+eld, and a second set of hands reached forward to try and steer. They weren't successful, of course-the sedan veered off the road and slammed into a row of oncoming traffic. Less than ten seconds later, sirens and lights were coming in from all directions. The cavalry was arriving.

"We still have a tail," Calvin pointed out. "Or are we leading them on a chase?"

"I still want to speak to the journalist." I leaned into the trunk, grabbed Caine by the hair and dragged him toward me. "Unless you want to talk?"

He spit a gob of blood and bile on me, hitting me in the chest. I wiped it off. "You're lucky that didn't go any higher."

"Or what, you'd torture me?" he sneered.

I leaned close enough that our noses touched. "There are worse things than torture, Caine. I could make you my pet, make you love me even as you wish me dead. I could take your greatest fears and make you want them so much you beg for them on your hands and knees. That is a gift of mine." I slid my fingers around his cheek and dug them into his thick hair. I gripped him hard. "I could make you my b.i.t.c.h."

Horror flickered through his eyes, followed fast by l.u.s.t. That was the problem with this particular threat. It either worked like a charm or it turned the a.s.sholes on.

"Do it then."

I shoved him back into the trunk, kicking him for good measure. I didn't care that he was still wrapped in the mesh. Being 'fair' was not my game when it came to vampires.

"Lea, we're here." Calvin's voice held more than a hint of displeasure. He didn't like to be reminded of how bad I could be. Neither did I, if I were being honest. But this was the calling I had. I was a Cazador, the last of the hunters, and I would wipe out the vampire blood lines even if it cost me my soul and what was left of my humanity.

If there was even any left inside me.

I looked out the window to see just where we'd stopped. We were parked on the curb in front of an abandoned building in the south end of Harlem.

I stepped out of the car, strode to the trunk and popped it open. Caine grinned up at me. "You aren't so tough. You want to make me love you. You're lonely, just like the rest of us."

Tipping my head to one side, I listened for the sound of tires, ignoring Caine and the words that were too close to the truth for my comfort. "d.a.m.n, you lost our tail, Calvin."

He grunted. "I can only go so slow. Get your bloodsucker and let's get this done." Calvin hefted a bag that held my fletchettes and an array of other unpleasant things. Silver pins, holy water, wooden splinters...the perfect tools for torturing a vampire.

Calvin had taken us to a building that was run-down and very obviously empty. Gang tags littered the exterior and the doors were missing; even the stairs leading to the entrance were partially destroyed. A chain link fence surrounded the property, warning signs hanging off it.

"Condemned. They're demolis.h.i.+ng it soon." Calvin pointed at the sign on the chain link fence that said exactly that. The date was only a week away. Which meant it was perfect for our uses. We pushed our way through the fence, me dragging the groaning vampire behind us.

Up the broken stairs and into the main hall we went. I wondered briefly what the place had once been. Huge double-wide stairs with ornate railings led up and down, but there was really no question as to which direction we were going.

I jogged ahead of Calvin, letting Caine's body bounce down the stairs. This would just be the warmup.

The bas.e.m.e.nt was dank and smelled like s.h.i.+t and p.i.s.s. I curled my nose. "Good place for you to die, Caine?"

"f.u.c.k you."

I crouched beside him. "In your dreams." I twisted a gloved hand into the filament and turned it, twisting it deeper into the flesh of his chest. He screamed, finally giving way to the pain.

"It's bad, isn't it? Is this how the little boys scream when you rape them?" I whispered as my guts churned with acid. As good as I was at this, I hated it. Hated the crying, the pleading. Hated feeling like I'd finally become the type of monster I'd sworn to wipe off the face of the earth.

And yet, this a.s.shole deserved this and so, so much more.

His blue-green eyes flew to mine, and I saw the truth there. "You don't know anything about me." But the lie trembled on his lips.

I leaned in and put my lips to his neck, fighting the urge to cringe. "It can be over in an instant. You and I both know I need your permission to access your memories. Give it, and I will show you mercy." d.a.m.n, I didn't really want permission, I didn't need more horrors to fill my mind.

He head-b.u.t.ted me, breaking my nose. I rolled back, holding a hand to my face as I choked and gagged on the heavy blood flow. Spitting a gob of it out, I nodded. "Fine. Then we do this the hard way."

Calvin reached the bottom step and shoved my bag across the floor to me. Neither of us liked this part, but this time I was going to make an exception. This sodomizing b.a.s.t.a.r.d deserved everything I could think up.

From my bag, I pulled a twenty-foot length of rope. Feeling Caine's eyes on me, I flipped the rope up over an exposed beam in the ceiling. A few quick knots and I had a noose settled over Caine's neck.

"Now, we all know you don't really need to breathe; that's not what this is for." I played with the rope a bit, loosening and tightening it until I had Caine on his tiptoes, dangling in the air in front of me. "Don't worry, that's just a plain old rope. No silver in it. Wouldn't want you to end yourself before I'm done with you." I smiled at him, baring my fangs. With one quick jerk, I yanked the net off. The movement spun him around and I was able to grab his hands and tie them behind his back with a section of the netting.

Long ago, I had realized a hard truth about myself. I hated this torture.

But the vampire in me-the monster-loved it.

After a few more minutes, I had his arms and legs tied so he was spread-eagled in front of me. Behind me, Calvin set up the folded-down dog crate I'd had made specifically for vampires. The wires were thick, hardened steel wrapped in silver. I pointed at it, barely two feet by three feet by three feet. "That's for you when you don't want to give up the answers I like. That's your home, dog."

Caine s.h.i.+vered and I stripped his pants off him. He was naked in front of me, but he didn't look away; there was no shame. His muscles rippled as I put a hand over his belly b.u.t.ton, avoiding the welts and wounds that the netting had caused. For now, anyway.

"Tell me about the bioengineering."

"f.u.c.k off and die."

"Not quite the answer I wanted." I pressed a finger into the hollow of his belly b.u.t.ton, feeling the hard knot that had been his tie to a mother who'd been dead for hundreds of years. A s.h.i.+ver ran through his body. I lifted an eyebrow. "You tell me when you want me to stop and chat."

I pressed, slowly pus.h.i.+ng him until the ropes restraining him stopped his body. Yet I kept pressing. My finger popped through the belly b.u.t.ton and he grunted. I didn't look at him. I hooked my finger and dragged him back with me, the wound somewhat superficial at that point. "Calvin, hand me-"

"This is stupid, I don't need my stomach any more than you do. I don't need any of my organs," Caine snapped, fear making his voice waver.

"Oh, I know. But it hurts the same as if you did need them. The one thing," I held up a pair of pinchers with my free hand as I fished around in his gut for a line of intestine, "no one tells vampires is that along with their increased sensitivity to hearing, smelling, touching, and f.u.c.king, they also are blessed with an increased sensitivity to pain. But you already know that, being as old as you are."

I tugged a loop of his guts out through his belly b.u.t.ton. I hooked it with the pinchers and rolled the tool 360 degrees. Caine's jaw dropped open and his eyes stared at his innards as they dripped fluid onto the floor. I didn't flinch. All I had to do was think about all the children he'd hurt, how many of them had suffered so terribly, their last minutes filled with horror and pain.

Yes, this time I was going to enjoy getting my answers.

I twisted the pincher again and tugged at the same time, spooling the guts as if they were pasta. "I think even when you're ready to talk, Caine, I might not be."

He looked at me, and I smiled up at him. "For your sins, Caine. Though I doubt this will help your soul go anywhere but h.e.l.l."

CHAPTER 8.

RACHEL.

Self-defense wasn't the only thing I'd learned from my dad and my brothers. They'd helped me develop all kinds of skills my other friends had never dreamed of acquiring.

How to track just about anything.

How to use firearms.

How to drive like a NASCAR pro. That third one was coming in handy at the moment, although the streets of Ohio were a h.e.l.l of a lot easier to maneuver than midtown Manhattan.

"How'd you know where to find me?" Derrick rested a hand on the dash as he juggled his attention between the black government-issue car behind us and the older sedan ahead.

"Please," I groaned, swerving around a stopped taxi. An oncoming car jerked away from us and laid on the horn, its tires squealing. "We've moved long past that s.h.i.+t, Derrick. Who the h.e.l.l am I chasing and why is the government on us like white on rice?"

He let out a low moan as I veered around another taxi and into oncoming traffic, barely missing a Volvo before swinging back into the appropriate lane. I snuck a glance at Derrick, about to chastise him for his stubbornness, but I saw blood seeping through the s.h.i.+rt he'd taken off and wrapped around his thigh.

"s.h.i.+t. That's bad."

He untied the s.h.i.+rt, moved it around to a dry spot, then retied it, trying to hide his cringe from pain. "Flesh wound. Don't lose that car."

I looked into the rearview mirror. "I'm more worried about losing them." I motioned my head toward the black vehicle still chasing us.

Derrick paled even more when he saw how close they were. "My bag. My research...is it..."

"Hidden. They sacked my place trying to find it, but they didn't. It's safe."

"Thank you." He paused. "If they catch us..." His words came out breathy. "If they do, you have to leave me behind, Rachel." He grabbed my arm. "Promise me."

"Absolutely not." I shrugged him off with more force than intended, but I wanted the message to come across loud and clear.

"Rachel."

I s.h.i.+fted a quick glance his way before looking back at the road. "No. This is like the desert, you d.i.c.khead. No man left behind."

"This isn't like the desert, Rach. This is bigger than the both of us. What I've uncovered... One of us has to get out of this and get this information to someone who can do something about it."

"And who is that?"

He was quiet for several seconds. "I haven't figured that out yet. This stretches into the higher levels of government."

I remembered the circled area on the Iraqi map. "The Pentagon?"

He remained silent.

My anger surged. "I know you're trying to pull some macho save-the-chick bulls.h.i.+t right now, but the car riding my f.u.c.king a.s.s proves that I'm in this. They know where I live, Derrick."

He let out a deep sigh. "Yes, I think someone in the Pentagon is involved."

"Then go to the CIA or the FBI. Those guys hate each other."

"They're in it, too."

"What?"

The government car smashed into my back b.u.mper, slamming us forward. I whipped the wheel and skidded around the car in front of us, barely missing an oncoming vehicle. The driver screamed at us with his horn while jamming his middle finger into the air.

Gunshots rang out behind us and Derrick and I both ducked.

My heart skipped a beat, then kicked into overdrive. "Those f.u.c.kers aren't playing around."

"They want this quiet. They'll blow off this car chase by calling us terrorists." He groaned. "This is exactly why I stayed away from you the past two years. I knew you'd catch wind of it and end up in the thick of it. But when I saw you in the alley..." He turned to look at me, fear in his eyes. "I never should have come to your apartment."

"What you should or should not have done is a moot point. I am in this now, so deal with it. I take it they want your information. Is it backed up anywhere?"

"Like on the cloud?" he asked in disbelief, but his voice was weaker than before. "I'm not a f.u.c.king idiot."

"So the stuff in your bag is all we've got?"

"No. There's a backup in a safety deposit box in New Jersey. Under an alias."

The back window of the car I was chasing burst out and landed on the road. I swerved to miss the debris as I saw a rifle tip extend out the open window. The woman from the park was holding it up.