Moon Sworn

I hobbled forward. The vamp was in the first cell. I couldn’t actually see him from where I was standing, but I could smell and feel him. Not physically but mentally. The wash of power flowed around me like a stream, not aimed at me but at the cop in the other room. He was trying to wake him, trying to make him attack again.

I stopped and peered through the food tray opening. The vamp was sitting on his concrete bed platform and glared my way balefully. He didn’t, however, look too concerned.

“Quit the telepathic attacks,” I said flatly, “or I’ll make you.”

“I think I’ll take the second option,” he said, his expression overconfident, almost jovial. “I can smell your blood and feel your flesh burning, wolf. We both know you won’t come into this room right now because you have neither the physical strength nor the speed to beat me. And with the silver in your flesh, you’re barely keeping your shields at maximum. All I have to do is wait, and you will be mine.”

The bastard was right. Given the fact my leg was already going numb, there was no doubt my shields would weaken as the silver drained more and more of my strength.

But it wasn’t like I had no other options and, given the situation, I wasn’t afraid to take them. I raised the gun, aimed it through the feeding slot, and shot him.

The bullet smashed through his kneecap, spraying blood and flesh and bits of bone across the grimy white walls. He screamed and clutched at his leg. My second shot took him high in the shoulder, and the caress of energy dropped to nothing.

“Try to control anyone else, and I’ll shoot to kill,” I said, and slammed the food tray slot closed. It didn’t do much to muffle his screams.

I knew how he felt. I very much felt like screaming myself.

I hobbled on, all but dragging my right leg. Blood was pouring from the wound, but it was the burning—and the numbness that was spreading like tentacles across my flesh—that was the biggest concern.

A quick look in the next cell told me it contained the pilot. He was lying on the concrete bed, but his eyes were open and his expression was an odd mix of defiance and fear.

The third cell held Harris. He was also lying on the bed, but his eyes were closed and the side of his face was battered and bloody.

“Harris?” I said. “You okay?”

He didn’t respond, and his breathing was shallow and rapid.

“Harris,” I repeated, louder this time. “Wake up.”

He jumped, then groaned and somewhat groggily scrubbed a hand across his bruised and beaten features before turning his head toward the door. “What?” he said, the word coming out a little slurred.

“Where are the keys for the cell?”

He blinked rather owlishly. Concussion, I thought. “Why do you want that?”

“Because you’re stuck inside of one.”

“I am?”

He sat up abruptly, but the movement was too sudden, and he vomited without warning. It splattered across the concrete floor, making me suddenly glad I wasn’t standing inside. The smell was bad enough from out here.

I waited impatiently, watching the blood trickle down his cheek, feeling it pour down my leg. My jeans were saturated, and blood was begi

“Harris, you need to concentrate. Where are the keys?”

“There are none.” His words, though still slurred, seemed a little stronger.

“What?” I glanced down at the door and noticed for the first time it had two methods of locking. One was the traditional key lock, the other electronic.

“What’s the combination?”

“Four oh eight one. Is the vamp neutralized?”

“For the moment, yes.” I pressed the code in and an alarm sounded as the little light flicked from red to green. I twisted the handle and pulled the door open. “Why didn’t he attack you rather than Be

“Because I’m mind-blind, and Be

“I’m afraid I busted his nose and probably some teeth.” I paused for breath. Damn, my chest felt like it was getting heavier. Fear swelled but I pushed it down. I would not die. Not like this. “He shot me with silver and I really didn’t have the time for finesse.”

He glanced at me sharply and I saw his gaze widen fractionally. “We’d better call you a doctor.”

“Call them if you want, but I can’t wait for them to arrive. I’m extremely sensitive to silver, and my leg is already numb. We need to get this bullet out now.”

“Fuck.” He scrubbed a hand across his face, then walked—a little unsteadily—forward. “There’s a first aid kit in the reception area. We’ll need that.”

He wrapped an arm around my waist and half guided, half carried me back down the corridor—though I wasn’t entirely sure who was supporting whom.

His nostrils flared as he passed the vamp’s cell. “I smell blood.”

“As I said, I didn’t have the time for finesse.” I shrugged, and the movement sent pain rippling. “A vamp with two bullet wounds isn’t going to be capable of attacking anyone telepathically for a while.”

Harris grunted. It wasn’t a happy-sounding grunt, but he didn’t actually say anything. Maybe even he could see that tough situations called for tough measures.

Even if they were against police rules.

But then, I wasn’t police. I was Directorate. The damn vamp was lucky he wasn’t dead. I might not want to kill, but all bets were off when the bastards attacked me.

We went through the barred gateway. He paused, briefly releasing me to close the door and punch in a code, then we staggered forward again. Harris guided me through the door then around to the left, behind the reception desk. Be

“How did you manage to get locked in the cell?” I said, as Harris kicked out a chair then dropped me into it.

“I had no idea the vamp was even awake until Be

I grabbed my wounded leg with both hands and hauled it up onto another chair. The damn thing felt like so much dead flesh and, deep in my stomach, the fear of losing the use of my limb gnawed. But I guess I was lucky it was my leg rather than my shoulder. I’d been shot far too many times in that region now, as the numbness and sensitivity in my fingertips indicated. I might have died instantly, rather than merely suffering.

Harris pulled on a pair of surgical gloves, then grabbed a pair of needle-fine scissors. “Why didn’t he simply punch in the code and open the door?”

“Because I have an override locking code that no one else knows. I used it on both the vamp’s cell and my own.”

He began slicing away the material from the wound. Despite the fact he was being careful, the sharp point of the scissors dug into my flesh several times. Luckily, I felt the movement, not the pain. My flesh was too numb to feel anything right now.

“How did you lock the door from the inside the cell?” The keypad was nowhere near the food tray opening, and unless he was Mr. Elastic, there was no way known he would have been able to reach it.

“There’s a time delay on it. You have one minute to close the door before it locks.” He dropped the scissors on the chair next to my foot then reached for the long tweezers. His gaze met mine. “This will probably burn like a bitch.”

“The wound is numb, so it won’t really matter.” But my fingers tightened reflexively around the arms of the chair.

“Numb?” His expression deepened to worry. “That happened fast.”

“As I said, I’m extremely sensitive.”

He grunted and carefully pressed open the sides of the wound with his free hand. Blood poured out over his fingertips and started dripping on the floor. Thanks to the numbness it didn’t actually hurt, but something inside of me trembled anyway.