The Watcher

Burke raises the staff again. The coven responds. The chanting is louder, more compelling, filled with the zealousness of renewed purpose. Burke's voice floats out over the others, intoning the summoning spell. The fire leaps higher as if in response to her words. The ground begins to shake beneath our feet.

It's two minutes to midnight. Think. What did Williams say? There is only an instant when the summoning can be completed, when the worlds of the living and dead overlap. We have to interrupt at that instant.

The fire parts, dividing itself to form a chasm in the pit. Burke's face is wild with desire, her voice shakes with emotion. She is caught up in a frenzy of excitement and joy. Her feelings reach out across the coven, sucking them in, increasing their own passion. I feel it, too. Watch in wonder at the power that springs forth from the gathering. I'm drawn in, thrilled by an almost sexual longing to be a part of what is happening. I stand up, ready to join them, ready to raise my voice in welcome to—

Frey snaps at me, biting down hard on my arm.

I jump at the pain, whirl to face my attacker.

Frey growls and snaps again.

Blood, my blood, runs freely down the length of my right arm. The sight and smell of it clears my head in an instant.

The minute hand of my watch sweeps toward midnight. Thirty seconds.

I start to run, across the ground, clearing the distance in a heartbeat. Frey is in front of me. He hesitates only a second and I point to the person closest to him, just yards away. He launches himself at the same time I throw all my weight against the circle, breaking the bond between outstretched hands. A lightning bolt of power passes through me and I stumble from the impact. Then it flows out of me and into the ground, and the chanting stops.

There is a roar. Animal-like and ferocious. I whirl toward the sound. The fire in the pit closes around something scrambling to escape. A huge creature, black, red eyes, sharp-tipped horns glistening. The mouth is open, screaming in rage and fear. Its eyes turn in my direction, its gaze burning into my soul, knowing, blaming me for what is happening. It reaches a clawlike hand toward me, to draw me into the pit. I feel myself moving forward. I dig in my heels, but I can't stop. It smiles, a ghastly grin that shows fangs and a forked tongue, and I know. It recognizes that I am vampire and it will have its revenge. I'm at the very edge of the pit. My clothes are burning, the heat singes my skin.

With an explosion of ash and flame, the fire collapses in on itself. The demon is drawn down, howling with frustration, back into the pit. I'm thrown to the ground with bone jarring force. The earth beneath our feet roils and stirs as if revolting against the demon it's being forced to take back. With one last violent shudder, it grows still.

I collapse back, relieved, and rest my head against the ground while I collect my thoughts. We stopped the demon. Frey and I.

Where is Frey?

I push myself up on my elbows and look around.

I'm surrounded by an angry coven, pushing closer, their rage palpable as they close the circle around me.

"Vampire."

Burke's voice draws my eyes to the altar.

She's standing at the foot of the cross, a crossbow in her hand. At her feet, a still, dark form.

My heart leaps.

Frey.

She nudges him with her foot. But he doesn't move or make a sound. The bolt in his side says it all.

CHAPTER 32

FREY IS NOT MOVING, BUT HE'S ALIVE. I KNOW BEcause his form has not changed. He remains a panther. When a shape-shifter dies he reverts to human form. I can't remember whether it was Culebra or Frey who told me this, but the important thing is, he's alive. But for how long?

My gaze shifts to the witch. She holds the crossbow to her shoulder, the bolt pointed at my chest. I'm fast, but can I out run an arrow?

Muscles tense to try.

Burke smiles and shifts the crossbow. The bolt is pointed now at Frey. "If you run, I shoot him again. Then I kill the woman. Then I kill Culebra. It's your choice.'"

I relax, letting the energy drain out of my system like water down a pipe. "What do you want?"

She gestures with the crossbow. "Join me."

I hold up my hands to indicate acquiescence and start for the stage. The coven follows at my back, snapping and growling like a pack of wild dogs. Their animosity shimmers around me, a black energy I can feel on my skin and taste in my mouth like acid or vomit. They want nothing more than to tear me apart. Perhaps that's what the witch has in mind.

She's taller than I remember, her lean body glows in the moonless night. She's stands erect and unashamed, her nakedness a challenge. She watches me come up the steps, the crossbow pointed at my chest and held with a steady hand. She has a smile on her face as she motions for me to come closer.

"You are A

If she expects that I will react in shock that she knows my name, she is disappointed. After all, I know now the warning she so dramatically delivered when I'd crashed into her wall was aimed specifically at me. To achieve this very result.

"Do you know what you have interrupted here?"

We are face-to-face. Her expression is calm, untroubled. She speaks as if to a recalcitrant child. I think I'd prefer it if she screamed. This air of mild a

I gesture at the people below. "Looks like they've been stood up. I don't think they're very happy about that."

She looks down at them. "They are angry. Understandably. The opportunity to raise Aswah will not come again for a decade. What do you suppose they would do if I threw you to them?"

But she makes no move to do it. Her tone is lazy, indulgent, a woman who likes the sound of her own voice.

"Pretty good special effects, Burke," I snap back. "But a little over-the-top, don't you think?"

She raises her chin and smiles. "You know my name?"

I nod. "I saw your mug shot at SDPD the other day. It was a very unflattering picture. You look short with clothes on."

"Foley was right about you. He said you have a smart mouth."

For the first time, she says something that surprises me. "Foley knows about"—I wave a hand around—"this?"

"Why don't you ask him?"

From the shadow behind the cross steps a figure. He, too, is smiling and he holds out a hand as if we're meeting in the most mundane of social occasions.

Agent Foley drops his hand when he realizes I have no intention of shaking it. Instead he puts one hand on Belinda Burke's shoulder while taking the crossbow from her with the other. It remains pointed at my chest.

"Well, A

CHAPTER 33

“SO, FOLEY?" I ASK. "DID YOU ARRANGE ALL THIS? You've been following me around for two days. If you wanted a date, all you had to do was ask."

Foley frowns. "Following you? What makes you think that?"

"Come on. Don't be coy. The telephone calls? The shooting in the canyon? I know it was you. Were you having fun?"

I remember what Frey said about Martinez having Max and wanting me. "Well, here we are." I turn to Burke and gesture to the unmoving, silent figures hanging from the cross. "Why not let them go? The demon is snacking on whatever they snack on in hell. You have no need to keep them."

Burke shrugs. "My followers will want to take their revenge on someone. It may as well be those two. Unless, of course, you are volunteering to take Culebra's place?"