Given the Van Helsings' reputation for zealotry and the Old Bloods' tendency for vindictiveness, both were extremely dangerous foes. Cally was glad her grand-mother had .nally relented and taught her a couple of spells before she died. At least she could defend her-self, to a certain extent. Still, she'd been extremely lucky that the Old Bloods were .edglings like herself. Had they been adults, she probably would have been killed, stormgatherer or not.

As she strode toward the stairs leading to the plat-forms, she looked around for signs of pursuit. Since Van Helsings and vampires never liked to call attention to themselves in public places, she was probably safe as long as she made sure there were plenty of witnesses nearby.

As she leaned out from the platform in hopes of spotting the next outbound, she noticed a hot guy in fashionably distressed skinny jeans and a denim jacket waiting for the train. He was buff, judging by the . t of his vintage T-shirt. He was pretending to read a paperback, but Cally could tell he was secretly checking her out.

He was clean-shaven with a large, expressive mouth, dark brown eyes, and wavy, reddish-brown hair. Although he looked to be about eighteen or nineteen, he exuded the kind of serious, mature vibe Cally usually a.s.sociated with dudes in their twenties. Maybe he was just emo.

When he glanced up from his reading yet again, Cally met his gaze. As their eyes locked, she felt a slight tingling inside her, not unlike the one she got as she called down lightning. For the briefest of heartbeats, it was as if the air between them crackled with energy. She .ashed the handsome stranger a smile, only to have him blush and bury his nose in his paperback. Yeah, de. nitely emo.

At any other time she would have . irted with him-at least a little-but when the tunnel lights switched from red to green, Cally quickly forgot about her admirer. As her train pulled in, she slipped inside and stood near the door. There were a handful of com-muters in the car with her, mostly partyers headed home after a long night at the clubs.

When she got off the train a couple of stops later, she thought she saw the guy in skinny jeans getting out onto the platform one car down from her. She turned around to make sure, but no one was there. She put him out of her mind and hurried down the pa.s.sageway to her next train.

Now that she had enough s.p.a.ce between herself and her potential enemies, Cally took the time to quickly count her earnings for the night. She was disappointed to .nd she had barely two hundred dollars. Normally she could score at least twice that off the dealers in the park. She frowned in dismay as she tucked the bills back inside her bra.

She needed cash for the next emergency. And she didn't need a fortune-teller to know there'd be one.

Although her father sent money on a regular basis, her mother had a way of blowing it all on things she "had" to have, like a giant .at-screen TV or a two-day spa treatment. So paying the electric bill or the mortgage on the condo often fell to Cally. Cally wondered for a moment what might become of her mother if she had been the one to catch the crossbow bolt earlier, but the thought was so distressing she instantly blocked it from her mind.

There's no point in worrying about things that haven't happened, she told herself. Focus on getting back home; that's all that matters. Just one more train, and I'm home free.

There was the sound of a shoe scuf.ng against con-crete behind her. Cally turned to see the .gure of a man headed down the stairs from the concourse above. Panic rose in her like .oodwater as she looked around the platform and realized that she was totally alone.

She ducked behind one of the narrow steel support columns that lined the platform, pressing herself against its cold metal surface as the footsteps drew closer. She frantically searched the platform for better cover, but there was nowhere else she could possibly hide.

If only she were more experienced in this kind of thing. She still hadn't recovered enough since the park to gather up more than a stiff breeze. That meant she would have to rely on what weapons were closest at hand. Cally reached out with her mind and made contact with something brown, furry, and very nearby.

As the man reached the bottom of the stairs, a rat the size of a kitten darted out of nowhere, its beady eyes gleaming like tiny polished stones. The animal reared up on its hind legs and made an angry, squealing noise.

"What the h.e.l.l-?!?" the stranger cried as the rat suddenly raced up his leg. "Ah! Get off me! Help!" He swatted at the angry rodent as it tore at him with its gleaming yellow teeth, but it refused to be frightened away and was at his throat within seconds. As he tried to shield his eyes from its slashing fangs and . lthy claws, he lost his balance and toppled off the edge of the platform. On striking the ground below, the rat jumped off and scurried back into the darkness of the tunnel, leaving its victim lying dazed on the tracks, moaning as blood oozed from the numerous wounds to his face and hands.

Cally peered over the platform and, with a start, recognized the young man as the one she had seen earlier, the one with whom she had experienced an unexpected connection. The fear that she had for her own life suddenly turned into alarm. She had sicced the rat on the stranger, hoping she could run away while he was distracted. It hadn't occurred to her that he would end up seriously injured as a result of the attack.

"What have I done?" She groaned.

A distant rumbling, a burst of air, and a swirl of trash from the tunnel signaled an oncoming train. Realizing there was no time to lose, Cally leaped off the platform onto the wounded stranger below.

"Hold still! Don't move!" she shouted, pulling him more evenly between the rails.

"What are you doing?" he cried, his brown eyes wide with fear as Cally pressed her face as close to his as a lover's.

"Saving your life!" Cally could smell the blood leak-ing from his wounds and fought to ignore the hunger it aroused in her. This was no time to get distracted. "If you don't keep still, we're both gonna lose a leg in a second!"

The ground beneath them began to tremble as they lay there wrapped in each other's arms. The man-made thunder .lled their ears and rattled their bones. Cally pressed her head against the young man's chest as he lay motionless beneath her, staring up at the speed-ing undercarriage of the subway cars pa.s.sing inches above his face. After what seemed like an eternity, the train . nally came to a stop above them.

"What do we do now?" he asked in a hoa.r.s.e whisper.

"Wait until it leaves," Cally whispered back. "No one knows we're down here. Even if someone's on the plat-form, I doubt they could hear us if we yelled for help."

The young man didn't say anything but instead tightened his grip on Cally, pulling her as close to him as possible. As she listened to his heart pounding in his chest, she breathed in the scent of his skin. She found it strangely comforting, even soothing.

After a long minute the doors chimed closed and the subway train's wheels began to turn. Cally held perfectly still as the cars click-clacked by over her head, fearful that the slightest movement might end in disaster. She marveled at how warm the young man's .esh felt against her own. She closed her eyes and took another, deeper breath, savoring his smell so she could remember it later.

After the last car pa.s.sed by, she .nally lifted her head and looked around.

"It's okay," she said rea.s.suringly. "You can let go of me now."

"And I was having such a wonderful time," he said with a weak laugh.

"We've got to get you out of here before another train shows up," Cally said as she stood up.

"Sounds like a good idea to me."

"h.e.l.lo? Anybody there?" she called out. "Man on the tracks!"

Cally listened for a response, but all she heard was her own echo.

"Can you stand?" she asked.

"Yeah," he said, nodding. "I think so."

As Cally helped him to his feet, the young man grimaced and fell into her. She staggered slightly as his body became deadweight and then effortlessly scooped him into her arms. She easily jumped back onto the train platform, carrying him over one shoulder. Moving with the grace of a cat, she propped his body upright on a nearby bench and gently stroked his left cheek, wiping away a smear of blood.

"Hey! What are you doing there?"

A transit worker was hurrying toward them with an alarmed look. Suddenly realizing she was covered in grease and .lth from the tracks, Cally .gured he had mistaken her for a runaway trying to roll a commuter.

"My friend needs an ambulance," she said quickly. "I think he's hurt. He fell off the platform onto the tracks."

"Holy Christ! How'd he manage to get back up?"

"I went and got him."

The transit worker gave her a dubious glance. "A young lady like you dragged this guy back up onto the platform all by yourself? Gedoutta here!"

"I guess it must have been adrenaline or something," Cally said with a shrug. "You know, like that woman who picked up the car to save her kid."

"Oh, yeah! I remember reading about that." Appar-ently satis.ed by Cally's explanation, the transit worker pulled a walkie-talkie out of his jacket pocket. "Central, this is Colina; I've got a situation here. Over." He hit the receive b.u.t.ton, but all that came out of the earpiece was a howl of static. "The reception down here is c.r.a.p. We're .fty feet under the street. I'll have to go to the upper concourse to make the call. Are you sure you'll be all right?"

"I'm perfectly .ne. I'll keep an eye on him until you get back."

"Okay-wait right here!"

As the transit worker ran back up the stairs, the young man gave a low moan of pain. Cally placed a hand on his shoulder, gently restraining him as he attempted to sit upright.

"Take it easy. You must have busted something when you fell."

He took a deep breath and grimaced. "You're right," he groaned. "I think I might have cracked a rib or two." He lifted his head. "I owe you my life," he whispered, his brown eyes drinking in her lips, her face, her hair. "You didn't have to do what you did."

"My grandmother once told me the worst thing anyone can do is nothing."

"Your grandmother sounds like a very wise woman."

"She was," Cally agreed. "Besides, I'm sure you would have done the same for me if our roles were reversed."

Something .ickered in the young man's eyes and he quickly looked away. "Perhaps you're right."

Cally turned toward the Brooklyn-bound side of the platform. "I think I hear my train coming."

"You're not going to leave me, are you?" he asked, reaching for her hand.

"Don't worry, there's an ambulance on the way. You'll be all right."

"Please-don't go. Stay with me."

"Look, I'm gonna get in a lot of trouble if I don't leave!" she said earnestly.

"But you haven't told me your name! I should at least know the name of the girl who saved my life, shouldn't I?"

"It's Cally."

"I like that." He smiled. "My name's Peter."

Cally returned his smile as she squeezed his hand. "I like that, too. Take care of yourself."

"I'll try."

Peter Van Helsing watched as Cally hopped inside the J train and waved good-bye from her window seat. As he raised a bloodied hand to return her farewell, he wondered how he would explain things to his father. Tonight had been his .rst solo mission; he had been a.s.signed to watch the subway station nearest the park in case the target escaped Big Ike's crew.

He reached inside his denim jacket and withdrew the wooden stake hidden inside, tossing it in the trash can next to the bench, just as he had been trained to do. The EMTs would be there soon, and it wouldn't do to have outsiders sticking their noses into the family business.

Chapter 5.

"Hurry up!" Oliver yelled over his shoulder as he ran from the park. "We've got to get back to the cars before the Van Helsings call in support!"

"But I broke my heel!" Carmen whined, limping after him like a hobbled horse.

Oliver bent down and snapped the heel off the remaining slingback. "There! Now they match again!"

"Those were my new Pradas!" she wailed.

"So you'll be well dressed when they drive a stake through your heart and cut off your head!" Oliver growled. "If you slow me down again, I swear I'll leave you behind for the Van Helsings to take care of! Don't think I won't!"

The look in Oliver's eyes made Carmen stop argu ing. She kicked off the ruined shoes, her bare feet streets as she hurried after him.

Sergei slowed his run down to a trot and looked around. "Where's Tanith?" he asked. "Did anyone see her?"

"The last time I saw her, she was with Jules," Melinda answered. "Ollie, have you seen Jules?"

"He went after Lilith-that's all I know," Oliver replied.

"It looks like we might have to .y out of here. Until Jules or Tanith shows up, there's no way we can get back into the cars," Melinda said, pointing across the street at the parked limousines they had arrived in. The Graves driver was leaning against the hood of the Mercedes, his arms crossed over his chest, staring into s.p.a.ce, while the de Laval driver busied himself by polishing the windshield of his vehicle.

"Fly?" Carmen frowned. "Are you serious? I can only stay in winged form for .ve minutes, tops! It'll take at least twenty minutes to get back uptown!"

"I realize it's dangerous. None of us are particularly strong .iers yet," Melinda replied. "But we have to get home as fast as we can."

"But what if they've already deployed their inter-ceptors?" Oliver asked anxiously. "I heard that Van Helsings have specially trained eagles and condors to take out vampires on the wing."

"I've heard that too," Carmen agreed. "My aunt says some of them even use pet gargoyles they've raised from eggs! Gargoyles, Melly! An eagle would be bad enough-how are we supposed to .ght off a gargoyle in midair?"

"You're getting yourself worked up over nothing, Carm," Melinda said, trying to calm her down. "It's just rumors, that's all, urban myths, that kinda stuff."

"Yeah, well, I've heard that before. Lilith and Tanith said the same thing about Van Helsings, and now look what's happened." Carmen's voice was quivering. "All I know is that I'm scared, my feet hurt, and I want to go home!"

"Let me try talking to Tanith's chauffeur," Sergei suggested. "I've been dating her for a few months. Maybe he'll recognize my scent. . . ."