The Eldritch Conspiracy (Blood Song) Read online

  wanted blood. I wanted it like I’ve never

  wanted anything in my life. I heard the

  rattling sound of the bat in a nearby

  alcove taking his first breath of the

  evening and I hissed at him on pure

  instinct. The vampire part of me wanted

  to bite down on the neck of the man I’d

  gutted while the last flicker of life left

  his body, to taste the warm, salt-sweet

  flavor that was like nothing else in this

  world.

  But no. I was human, damn it. I would

  not feed from a human. Never.

  There was a flash of blinding light, a

  whooshing noise, and flame roared out

  of Luis’s homemade flamethrower,

  filling the alcove, setting the waking

  vampire ablaze as Maria and her brother

  stumbled past me.

  The heat was horrendous, breath-

  stealing. I could only whisper a silent

  prayer of thanks that we were near

  enough to the main tunnel that we could

  still breathe after the blast. I gasped, the

  nauseating smell of burning hair and

  flesh filling my nose and lungs, making

  me cough till I gagged. As suddenly as

  the blood lust had come, it was now

  gone. My stomach lurched; I pulled my

  knife from the guard, flinging his body to

  the ground.

  Distant screams echoed through the

  rocky tunnels. The vampires were rising

  and some of the human guards hadn’t

  made it out.

  Oh, fuck a duck.

  I picked Serena up by her waist and

  tossed her over my shoulder like a sack

  of potatoes. She didn’t complain. We

  ran. By the light of flickering flames I

  could see the fork in the passage that led

  to the open desert outside. I could smell

  the sand. Twenty yards to the fork, so

  maybe thirty past that to the outside. We

  were nearly there. But closing fast from

  the other direction were vampires,

  newly risen and hungry for blood.

  Maria stumbled and Luis went down

  with her. Luis struggled to his knees,

  trying to get off a blast from the

  flamethrower. Then a pair of vamps was

  on him. They rode him to the ground.

  Fast, they were so fast. Serena turned

  her head, saw him bleeding, and

  screamed. The bats looked up, eyes

  glowing. I didn’t doubt mine were as

  well

  because

  everything

  was

  in

  hyperfocus. I managed to pull my gun,

  but I was having to aim carefully so as

  not to hit the tank, and with Serena

  kicking in panic, it was hard. Luis’s

  scream of agony cut off abruptly as the

  larger male broke his neck with a single

  vicious twist.

  Another pair of bats, two females,

  surged forward. Maria began firing

  wildly, not aiming—which was useless.

  Grabbing her arm, I flung her ahead of

  me.

  “Run!” I screamed, as I fired blessed

  bullets into the vamps to slow them

  down. It wouldn’t stop them entirely, but

  I needed to buy us enough time to get to

  the cave entrance. Once there, I’d shoot

  the gas tank with a tracer round. The

  explosion would take out the vamps and,

  if we were lucky, block the tunnel

  entrance behind us.

  Just a few more steps. I twisted, firing

  over my shoulder, struggling to stay

  balanced while carrying Serena. I pulled

  the trigger again and again until the gun

  clicked empty. I was almost to the exit. I

  could see the stars above and smell

  cactus and sage. So tantalizingly close

  now—but they were gaining on us.

  A bat grabbed at my leg, causing me

  to stumble and nearly drop Serena. I

  kicked the bat in the face until she let go

  but that gave the others time to get

  closer. There wasn’t time to pull out the

  derringer in my ankle holster.

  Thankfully, I didn’t have to. Maria

  had reached the cave entrance ahead of

  me. She’d pulled herself together, and

  though there were tears streaming down

  her snarling face, she stood, gun drawn,

  feet solid. She wasn’t aiming at me.

  “Go, Graves! Get Serena to safety. They

  won’t follow. I swear.”

  She waved me past, giving me a

  shove in the back with preternatural

  strength that sent both me and Serena

  sprawling a dozen feet from the tunnel

  exit. I pushed to my feet and screamed,

  “Maria! Get out! You can still make it.”

  Even as I yelled, the bats leapt toward

  her. Crap.

  She didn’t go down when they hit.

  They hung on her, fangs embedded in her

  snarling form. One hand braced over the

  other, she took careful aim and sent a

  tracer round back into the tunnel. I

  followed the blaze of fire as it flew

  straight and true, right into the tank of her

  brother’s flamethrower.

  I threw myself over Serena to shield

  her from the blast, but I had to look back.

  The explosion was pretty spectacular,

  imprinting red onto my retinas and

  turning Maria, Luis, the guards, and a

  dozen bats into charcoal.

  Yes, she’d betrayed us, but Maria

  Ruiz Ortega had found her path to

  redemption from Paulo and his cartel.

  2

  The explosion attracted the notice of the

  U.S. authorities. They arrived in record

  time: Border Patrol, DEA, CIA. The

  hole in the desert floor was a popular

  place for the next few hours. I didn’t

  know any of the agents, but I had a few

  friends in high places I could call on to

  convince the guys on-site that I was

  trustworthy and on the side of the angels.

  It also helped that I had my current

  passport, concealed carry permit, and

  FBI consultant badge hidden in zippered

  pockets sewn into my pant legs. Modesty

  be damned. I was out of those jeans in

  two shakes to get to my IDs once I was

  in custody and in a clean, well-

  ventilated holding cell.

  The paperwork helped more than the

  friends, I think.

  “Just one more time, Ms. Graves.

  How were MagnaChem and the drug

  cartel connected?”

  I sighed. “As I have said to the last

  four people who asked, they weren’t. I

  was guarding new management who

  were sent to the MagnaChem plant after

  the CEO was arrested and her board

  was replaced. Paulo Ortega just

  happened to decide to use the same town

  as a base, so the arrival turned into an

  evacuation. Serena Sanchez was the last

  employee out. Paulo was very annoyed

  that I managed to keep him from getting

  his hands on rich Americans to use as

  hostages. He’ll also likely be annoyed

>   that I told the agents on the scene how to

  find the drugs and guns I spotted in the

  tunnel.” The man questioning me

  nodded, just as the four other agency

  representatives had. Then he left, and I

  sat, waiting for the next interrogator.

  Finally, a day later, after painfully

  thorough debriefings by each of the

  agencies, I was allowed to go home. The

  agent who escorted me out of holding let

  me know that Serena had been airlifted

  to a hospital and undergone surgery on

  her broken leg.

  I nearly wept when I saw my beach

  house, I’d been gone so long. This was

  probably my longest out-of-town job to

  date and it had definitely been one of the

  most tiring.

  My first call was to my attorney,

  Roberto Santos. When I’m traveling out

  of the country and have no idea when I’ll

  be back, I have my mail forwarded to his

  offices. For a hefty fee, the nice

  secretaries and accountants attached to

  his firm pay my bills, respond to crank

  letters and fan mail, and deal with most

  other types of problems. Roberto was

  one of my friends in high places—he’s a

  very well-known attorney in government

  circles, which is why he’s my attorney.

  “Anything to report, Roberto?” I

  couldn’t help but smile as I sank into my

  favorite recliner with a tall glass of

  crystal-clear water. After weeks of

  drinking liquids that I tried not to think

  about too hard, I was thrilled to have

  water without things floating in it. I

  mean, really. Water shouldn’t come with

  chunks.

  “Nothing other than what you already

  know. You certainly caused a stir this

  time. Three different agencies are torn

  between giving you a medal and

  charging you with obstruction of a

  government operation.”

  The water took on a bitter taste. “I

  hope you convinced them a medal was

  more appropriate.”

  He chuckled. “What I convinced them

  is that with you involved, all of the

  agencies had both plausible deniability

  of the deaths at MagnaChem and access

  to a large cache of weapons and drugs to

  splash on the front pages. I also

  suggested that you wouldn’t claim any

  credit in the press. I hope I can count on

  that.”

  A snorting noise came out of my nose

  and I nearly spit water across the floor.

  Instead, I swallowed and replied, “No

  problem. They’re welcome to the credit.

  I’d rather nobody even knew I was

  there.”

  “I thought that might be the case.” I

  heard a voice in the background and

  realized I might have interrupted him.

  “If you have an appointment, we’ll

  talk later. I need a few days’ rest

  anyway.”

  “That sounds perfect, Celia. I’ll get

  your mail service restored and include

  our bill in the first batch. Be warned,

  it’ll be rather large.”

  That made me laugh. He’s nothing if

  not honest. Another reason I like him.

  “Well worth it, in my opinion. I’ll be

  adding

  your

  bill

  to my bill to

  MagnaChem. Charge what you will.”

  I drank my water slowly, savoring it,

  and turned on the television to catch the

  latest news. Big shock—there was no

  mention of a small town being overrun

  by drug cartels just over the Mexican

  border. No breaking-news alerts about

  the murderous bastard who intentionally

  herded people into tunnels to be

  slaughtered by vampires. There were

  stories about similar atrocities in Africa,

  Indonesia, and the Middle East. Just not

  too close to home. Heaven forbid.

  I nearly turned off the set, but stopped

  when the next story came on: an update

  on the M. Necrose pandemic that had

  begun sweeping across the country a few

  months earlier. I’d been one of the first

  victims of a bacterium that turned people

  into zombies. I turned up the sound.

  “Mortality rates have dropped for the

  first time since the outbreak started,” the

  silver-haired anchor read from his

  prompter.

  “Los

  Angeles

  General

  reported only five new cases this month

  and all were in early stages, treatable

  with antibiotics. The crematorium here

  in Santa Maria de Luna had only one

  disposal this week.” The anchor took a

  breath as a graphic appeared on the

  screen: a color-coded map of the United

  States,

  showing

  the

  heaviest

  concentrations of the disease. “Every

  U.S. state now has reported cases, with

  the exception of Alaska and Hawaii.

  Officials at the Center for Magical

  Disease Control speculate that extra

  security measures for flights into

  Anchorage and Honolulu might have

  stopped the mages who were hired to

  infiltrate the schools.”

  Wow.

  The

  CMDC

  had

  gone

  mainstream since I’d been gone. That’s

  the problem with having no access to

  television for weeks. It used to be that

  the magical branch of the CDC in

  Atlanta operated in secret. I hadn’t even

  heard of it until I was exposed to the

  disease. The general belief was that the

  public would panic if it learned there

  were magical diseases that could spread

  to the human population, so nobody had

  ever mentioned that the agency existed.

  It was true that there had been mass

  panic when the first cases appeared and

  there was no cure. People died. Lots of

  people. But we’d adapted. It had taken

  months, but parents were sending their

  kids back to school. Church attendance

  was up and telecommuting was giving

  way to heavy traffic. Pity about that part.

  I had liked the lack of traffic jams.

  “The M. Necrose pandemic has now

  become the fourth deadliest disease

  outbreak in history, surpassed only by

  the Black Plague, the Spanish Flu, and

  the Bird Flu. Next up, sports on News

  Center Eighteen.”

  I turned off the TV then and took

  another long drink of water. It was as

  though I’d never been gone. The world

  had gotten along just fine without me. I

  leaned back into the cushions and

  listened to the sounds of the ocean

  through the open screen door. I might

  have dozed off; I’m not sure. Suddenly I

  heard a bang, started, and looked out the

  picture window to see my neighbor,

  Inez, at my door. She was wrapped in a
/>   towel.

  Inez used to be the housekeeper for

  my best friend, Vicki Cooper, who had

  owned both my beach house and Cooper

  Manor, the mansion at the top of the hill.

  When Vicki died, she left me the beach

  house and left the mansion to Inez and

  her husband, David, who had been the

  groundskeeper. I trusted them to keep an

  eye on my place and to water my plants

  in my absence.

  I opened the door with a smile. I

  hadn’t seen her since well before

  leaving for Mexico. “Hey, Inez. How

  have you been?” I opened my arms to

  give her a hug but she just motioned

  behind her with a thumb.

  “I was pretty good until your puppy

  dumped seaweed in my pool. I was

  swimming at the time.”

  That was when I looked outside.

  “Crap!” One of the abilities of a siren,

  besides being able to mentally influence

  some people, is an affinity with the

  ocean. I’d been away from the water too

  long in the Mexican jungles; my control

  was fuzzy.

  So thinking about the ocean just now

  had caused the water to move inland. My

  cousin, Adriana, the Pacific siren

  princess, told me this was a common

  problem when sirens come into their

  power. The sea follows us. The water

  was up to the bumper of my car and had

  indeed dumped seaweed into the lower

  swimming pool. There’s an upper one as

  well, but Inez prefers the lower one

  because it’s on the beach. I doubted that

  seaweed was all that had been dumped

  in it; there were probably a few buckets

  of sand and a variety of small sea

  creatures playing there now. “Oh, man.

  I’m so sorry, Inez. I’ll clean it up.”

  I must have looked pretty stricken at

  the prospect of cleaning up after my

  mistake because she shook her head with

  a note of amusement. “It’s okay. Go

  swimming. It’ll follow you back.” I tried

  to protest, but she was firm. They would

  change the water, and I should go swim.

  “Really. David’s been meaning to scrub

  down the bottom. We’ll open the drains

  and let the water go back out to sea.”

  One of the things I like about David is

  that he never uses chemicals in the

  water, so he could let it drain back to the

  ocean with the blessing of the State of

  California’s

  environmental

  offices.

  Vicki had installed a very expensive

  reverse osmosis filter for the pool, so

  the water going out would be perfectly

  safe

  for

  whatever

  creatures