I think we need to get out of here. I tossed the bottles under the table, then stepped away from it.

In that moment, the magic spiked and the walls exploded, sending a rain of deadly rock shards ricocheting through the room.

I yelped and ducked under the table, using it as a shield against some of the stone as I covered my head with my hands and curled up as small as I could to present less of a target. The sharp little-and not so little-missiles. .h.i.t me regardless, pounding my arms and body, drawing blood wherever they hit.

It was over within minutes, leaving a silence that made my skin crawl. Because there was something within that silence, something that felt old and filled with magic. The same magic that had infused the room before the explosion.

I think the s.h.i.t just hit the fan, Kye said.

I had an odd feeling that he wasn't talking about the explosion. I moved my arms and opened my eyes.

We were no longer alone in the room. At least a dozen bodies had stepped free from the shattered remains of the walls and were moving toward us, their movements reminding me of sleepwalkers.

Only I suspected these walkers were a whole lot more dangerous to us than to each other.

I guess our sorceress wasn't too impressed with me destroying her pentagram and table.

I guess not, Kye said, mind voice calm. A shiver went through me. I had a feeling the switch had been pulled, and he'd just become the perfect killer. I only have six bullets.

Then don't waste them. Bullets wont stop zombies-you can only do that by deprogramming them from the magic.

Then what are our options?

We stop them, which means breaking their limbs. All their limbs. If Kye had been a real telepath rather than just a siphon, it might have been worthwhile trying to break the connection Jessica had with them. Granted, such an attempt would have been hard, considering how many of them there were, but it just might have been possible. But with Kye having no real expertise with telepathy, it wasn't worth the effort.

He didn't reply, simply launched himself at the nearest pack of walking dead men, hitting them feet first and scattered them like so much rotting meat.

Fingers grabbed at my bodice and I spun, grabbing the hand and shoving the zombie back as hard as I could. Then I ran and jumped, kicking one zombie in the head before dropping to the ground and, sweeping with a leg, knocking a second off his feet.

More of them came at me. I broke the fingers off one, then jumped back, pulling him with me and throwing him sideways, into others.

An arm wrapped itself around my neck and the fetid breath of flesh long dead washed over me, making me gag. I tried to pry his fingers away, but his entire hand seemed to be covered with something that was thick and slimy, and it was impossible to get a grip. So I dropped to my knees and tried to flip him over my head. The body went over but the arm remained, and it was still squeezing, still making it harder and harder to breathe. I reached back, grabbed the limb, and forced it away from my neck. His flesh was rotting, covered with a putrid mix of goo that was flesh and body fluids and G.o.d knows what else.I flung it away with a shiver, and wished I had something to wipe my neck with. I could still feel him, still feel his slime on my skin, and it was horrible.

Two more grabbed at me. I punched one, smashing in the side of his face and sending him flying away from me. Then I pushed backward, as hard as I could, crushing the second zombie against the wall. There was a sharp crack of bone, but I didn't bother turning around to see what had broken. I simply finished the job, breaking his arms, then his legs. He dropped to the ground, but still tried to get to me, flopping around like a fish out of water.

Revulsion rolled through me, but I swiftly pushed it to one side as more of the stinkers came at me. I kicked and punched for all I was worth, breaking the limbs of some and shattering the backs of others. Bits of flesh and bone flew, covering me and the floor in their stinky goo, until the stench made me want to throw up.

And the worst part was, all my fighting didn't seem to make a G.o.dd.a.m.n bit of difference. The b.a.s.t.a.r.ds just kept coming at me.

I blew the sweaty strands of hair away from my forehead and cast a brief glance Kye's way. He didn't seem to be doing any better. There were three zombies flopping at his feet, but that still left another three, and those creatures seemed just as fast and just as strong as he was. Maybe they were simply fresher.

I jumped over the leap of a creature, then hit the ground and spun, knocking another on his rotten a.s.s. I jumped on his leg, smashing his kneecap, then spun as another lashed out. Despite the speed with which I could move, I simply wasn't fast enough.

The blow landed on the side of my head and sent me flying toward the wall.

Several of them hit me in the chest and drove me back against the wall. Fingers grabbed at my body, my throat, my hair, until all I could smell and all I could feel was the dead. A scream rolled up my throat but I clamped down on it, hard. The last thing I needed to do was alert anyone still inside the club that someone had gotten into one of their protected pa.s.sages.

Although I'd probably done that the moment I'd destroyed the pentagram and table.

I raised my arms and smashed theirs away, then dropped to the ground and crawled, as fast as I could, between their legs and away.

Kye, I think we need to get the h.e.l.l away from this cavern and regroup.

He didn't answer immediately, punching several zombies away from him before saying, I'm thinking that's a f.u.c.king good idea.

I flipped upright and spun, lashing out with a leg and knocking one charging zombie into another. At least in the hallway they cant come at us from all angles.

And that would give us an advantage. Right now, there were just too many avenues for the things to keep jumping us. And though we'd reduced their numbers, the ones that remained were the least rotten, and the strongest. And they just wouldn't stop.

I grabbed another arm and twisted it backward, hearing bone crack as I kicked out at the creature's kneecap. These things might be dead, but somewhere deep in their brainless skulls, a sense of self-preservation still survived, because it jumped backward, out of the way.

Make the charge, Kye said, I'm right with you.

Then I'm going. I put my head down and ran. Right into a zombie, knocking him down hard, then leaping over him as I raced for the door. Kye appeared beside me, as covered in slime as I was, and reeking to high heaven. We neared the ramp, our steps lost in the pounding of the zombies coming after us.

Up the top of the ramp, the shadows moved, and the scent of humanity-of a woman-washed over me. Jessica, not Hanna.

Then I felt the burn of silver and heard the soft click of a safety being disengaged.I slid to a stop. Kye did the same, barely missing running into my back. The zombies behind us crowded close, providing a wall of flesh through which there'd be no easy escape. Not that there was anywhere to go behind them. Our only way out was the tunnel. If we could get past Jessica and whatever form of backup she'd bought with her.

She rolled out of the shadows, the gun held unwaveringly in her hands. There was a zombie at her back holding a second weapon.

"I underestimated you," she said softly, her voice cool but still holding that edge I'd noticed earlier.

"I get that a lot," I said, even as I added telepathically to Kye, the weapons are loaded with silver. "Tell me, Jessica, why are you killing the teenagers? It makes no sense, given Hanna has already paid them handsomely for their silence."

"No monetary payment ever guarantees silence one hundred percent. If any of them had opened their d.a.m.n mouths about how they got the money, Hanna's game was up."

"But why would you even care? Why would you go to such lengths to protect a woman who's not exactly chummy with sanity?"

"Sane or not, she cared for me when no one else would, and for that I owe her loyalty." She gave me a twisted half-smile that was part sadness, part acceptance. "Which means I get to clean up her mistakes and keep her safe."

Then she pulled the trigger. I threw myself sideways, even as Kye hit me, making me lose my balance. He stumbled then went down, hard. There was blood on his face, blood in his hair, blood on the ramp, and something inside me went numb.

For too many seconds, I couldn't react, couldn't think. I just stared at his unmoving form and thought no, no, no.

Then movement caught my eye. The gun, aimed my way.

I twisted around and lunged for the weapon that had fallen from Kye's hand. I grabbed it and fired, all in one swift motion. Saw the woman jerk, then go limp, as the wound in her forehead began to leak blood and brain matter. I fired a second shot, shattering the wrist of the zombie holding the gun, tearing it clean from his arm.

I closed my eyes for a moment, releasing a deep, shaking breath. But the danger wasn't over yet, I realized as fingers began to dig into my flesh. I twisted around, wrenching myself free, then jumped upright and lunged forward at the rest, hitting them front on and sending them flying.

Then I turned and ran back to Kye, dropping to my knees beside him and feeling for his pulse. It was there, fast but strong, and some of the tension that had been twisting my insides relaxed a little. But only a little. The bullet had hit at an angle, smashing through his right shoulder before making a trench across the side of his head, and both wounds were bleeding profusely. If he didn't wake up, didn't change shape and stop the bleeding soon, he would die.

I pinched his earlobe as hard as I could, then said, "Kye, get up."

A zombie lunged at me, I twisted around, sweeping with my leg, knocking him off his, then pinched Kye's ear harder. "d.a.m.n it, wolf, wake up. You have to shift shape."

He didn't respond, and the fear that had been partially mollified when I realized he was still alive began to rise again. I didn't care for this man, didn't want to get involved with him, but something deep within simply didn't want to see him die, either. But then, my wolf had a bad habit of latching onto-or rather, l.u.s.ting after-totally unsuitable men.

I kicked away more attacking zombies, then jumped to my feet and grabbed Kye's armpits. Jessica had obviously given her creatures final orders before I'd killed her, and I couldn't concentrate on waking Kye with the zombies continuing to attack from all angles. I needed to at least restrict their options. So I hauled him upright and began to walk backward up the ramp.And suddenly I realized that there was someone else in the room. Someone who was alive and who breathed, and whose scent was all too familiar.

Hanna.

I shifted my grip on Kye and twisted around, the gun in one hand and my finger on the trigger. But for the second time that night, I simply wasn't fast enough.

The bullet hit with the force of a hammer, tearing into my shoulder and smashing me sideways, away from Kye and into a wall.

Pain flared, red hot and burning, and I knew then that the bullet was silver.

Then that thought died and there was nothing.

Absolutely nothing.

Chapter Eleven

Waking was a slow and painful process. My head throbbed so badly it made me want to throw up, but it was almost matched by the burning ache in my right shoulder. An ache that pulsed down my arm as it went numb.

Fear hit me-a fear so deep that for several seconds I struggled to breathe.

I knew that burning. Knew it all too well.

I'd been shot with silver and the bullet was still lodged in my flesh.

I forced reluctant eyelids open, needing to know where I was and what had happened while I was out of it. A white ceiling loomed high above me, meaning they'd moved me from the cavern. But that ceiling didn't actually look like one of the club ceilings, either. The cornices were too ornate, the ceiling itself too high.

Plus, the air here smelled different. It was fresher, with undertones of baking and roses rather than the club's seedier aroma of alcohol and l.u.s.t.

Which didn't mean there wasn't magic here. There was, but it wasn't as strong. It was more a wisp of darkness that occasionally stained the fresher scents rather than something that overwhelmed and completely fouled.

I shifted slightly, trying to ease the ache in my hip, and realized I was laying on something cold and hard. I shifted my left fingers and touched the surface.

Metal. And unlike the table in the cavern, this one didn't smell like blood-although that aroma was in the air, if only faintly. I drew in a deeper breath, sifting through the smells in the air, finding strong hints of antiseptic swirling around the tang of old blood. This table and this room had been washed down many, many times.

As full awareness began to return, I also realized that the burning numbness in my right arm was matched-to a lesser degree- by similar sensations at both ankles and my left wrist.

I turned my head, saw the silver shackles and chains attached to my arm, and swore softly.

Behind me, someone chuckled.

"I'm glad you're awake, little werewolf," Hanna said, her voice friendly, almost conspiratorial. "I did so want you to see your death coming."

"That's another mistake in a long line of them, Hanna. Always kill a guardian when you get the chance, because we don't give you a second go."

"Well, this time the bad guy wins, not the guardian. And your blood will provide excellent fuel for my magic and potions."

Like h.e.l.l it would. I twisted around, trying to see her. The movement not only caused chains to pull at my wrist and dig farther into my skin, but sent a stab of agony through the rest of my body as my shot shoulder protested the action. Sweat broke out across my forehead, and my breath hissed out through clenched teeth. It took several seconds for the tears to clear enough to see her.

Hanna was standing behind me, a tall, willowy woman who looked far older than she had in the office. Maybe it was the lack of makeup, or maybe it was the fact that her only items of clothing were a pale green ribbon tying her dark hair away from her face and the thin strand of wire around her neck. Her green eyes had a wild sort of look to them, and her skin was unnaturally shiny, as if she'd covered herself in oil of some kind.

"What have you done with Kye?"

She raised an eyebrow, green eyes cool and amused. "I'm guessing you mean the man who was with you?"

"Yes."

"Oh, he's probably bled to death by now."

Something within me wanted to curl up and die at the thought. It was weird-I might have l.u.s.ted after the man, but I didn't actually like him, and yet here I was, wanting to weep for his loss. The wolf sure was strange at times.

"It's a shame, really," Hanna continued, "to waste all that good blood, but shifting three bodies would have placed too much strain on both my magic and me."

"You'll regret letting him die, Hanna."

"Oh, I'd be a little more worried about your health, if I were you."

I was worried all right, but I'd been in worse situations than this and had survived. And I had no intention of dying today, either.

Whether fate agreed with my decision was another matter entirely, but I wasn't worrying about that right now.

"Tell me, how did you and Jessica meet?"

It obviously wasn't a question she was expecting, because she looked up in surprise. "Why do you want to know?"

"Just curious." I shrugged, the action sending pain rolling across my skin.

"We grew up together," she said after a moment. "Like me, she had a gift for darker powers and was ostracized by her family because of them."

I could understand the two odd peas clinging together for safety and companionship, because in very many ways, that's what Rhoan and I had done. But why go on to become such violent murderers?"And you looked after her when she had her accident and became paraplegic?"

"It was no accident," she said, voice a little tighter.

"What do you mean?"

"I mean," she said tightly, "that the rich young b.a.s.t.a.r.d who paralyzed her first seduced her mother before he beat them both up and drained her mother to death."

I guess that explained why she seemed to be going after the more affluent vamps rather than any old vamp. "Why didn't he kill Jessica?"

"Her back was broken-shattered-so badly that shifting couldn't heal it. She started screaming for help, and their neighbors heard and called the cops. That's the only thing that saved her."

"So you started killing vampires as revenge for what happened to her?" I shifted my head a little more, until my ear pressed against the hard stone. I didn't know if that would actually turn on the com-link's sound, but I had to at least try it. I'd left tracking on as ordered, but the Directorate wouldn't actually come running unless they realized I was in trouble. Sal might be good at guessing when that might be, but with the way fate liked playing games with me, I could place money on the fact that the one time I needed Sal to act would be the one time she didn't.