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  Kirkbride did not reply.

  * * * *

  Brandon didn’t say much on the walk to the church beyond telling the vampire all of their names in an attempt to make friendly introductions. He was about to ask hers when Haywood gave him a choice between shutting up or bleeding from several places. He shut up. In his early days as a reporter he had attended the most dismally boring civic meetings imaginable and still managed to not only come up with good questions for the officials involved, he’d turned in decent write-ups of the meetings. Now, though, he was coming up empty. He had witnessed the demise of two otherworldly creatures, vampires no less. And the beautiful woman who had taken out both of them was apparently a vampire herself. There were ten million things he wanted to know but all his questions balled up in the back of his throat. All he could do was stare at her.

  Their footfalls echoed in the empty church. Jessie sat on the back of a pew, her feet in the seat. She replaced the tanto in her boot and fished a pack of cigarettes from her jacket pocket. “Anybody got a light?”

  Haywood gave a snort of disgust from his position at the altar. Rowdy ignored her, busy checking out the exits and making sure no squatters were present. Lenny gave Kirkbride a questioning look that went unnoticed then shrugged to himself and took a lighter out of his jeans pocket, tossing it to the vampire. She caught it easily, lit her cigarette, and took a deep drag. She tossed the lighter back with a wink and a thank you.

  Lenny stared. She curled her friendly smile into a seductive one and Lenny made a noise as if to say something, but nothing came out.

  Kirkbride came to his side. “Why don’t you go help Rowdy?” His voice was kind but clearly it was not a request. The boy gave Kirkbride a guilty look and walked away.

  Kirkbride spoke. “I’m guessing your name isn’t Lisa Taylor and you’re not actually a reporter.”

  That broke through Brandon’s reverie. He looked from her to Kirkbride and back, trying to get a read on the situation.

  “Good guess,” she answered.

  “Would you tell us your name, please?”

  “How polite of you, Brother William. I appreciate that.” She watched him through the smoke of her cigarette. “Jessamine.” She extended her arm, her hand hanging there for a long moment. He showed no inclination to shake it, so she finally let it drop. “Call me Jessie, if you like.”

  “I want you to tell us why you’re here. You should know you’re going to have to convince me to let you leave this building.”

  “So much for neutral ground.” She flicked her cigarette away and sank into the pew. Pulling her hair out of its ponytail, she let it fall in a dark cloud over her shoulders. The mockery left her face and she looked tired, worn down. Kirkbride approached her with care, the cross held out in his left hand, the shotgun in his right hand and propped across his body on his left arm, aimed at her head. She looked at him dully, rubbing her face with her hands.

  “You’re coming down.”

  She sneered. “You say that like I’m some kind of junkie. You think I’m addicted to killing?”

  “Are you?”

  “No.” She glared at him. “I don’t like killing my own kind. It upsets me.” She spat the words out.

  “But you did it anyway.”

  She nodded.

  He said nothing, waiting for her to continue.

  Finally she spoke again. “There was no sense to what he was doing. No reason to it. We don’t have to kill to survive and we certainly don’t have to kill the innocent.”

  He drew in his breath sharply. “You have a code of ethics?”

  Another glare. “You’ve been watching too much TV.”

  “So you don’t kill innocent people.”

  “No, I don’t,” she said with a toss of her hair. “What can I say? I dig the bad boys, murderers, rapists. Rapists are fun. The fear and adrenaline makes their blood spicy. First they fight, then they beg, then they die. Delicious. You know what’s even better than that? You know what’s the only thing better than a rapist?” She leaned forward with a wicked grin. “A pedophile. I like to play with them, make the meal last longer.”

  Kirkbride was silent for a long moment, his eyes never leaving hers. “You believe in vengeance.”

  “I believe in justice.”

  “You killed two of your own kind for justice?”

  She stood. “I killed two of my own kind because they were a couple of low-life sloppy idiots attracting too much attention. It’s one thing for a handful of crazy nut jobs like you to know too much. Who’s going to believe you if you start talking about vampires? The same people who believed you after you started talking about demons?”

  Shock flooded Kirkbride’s face. “What?”

  “What, you think I came into this situation cold? I checked you out. I know who you are, and I know what happened to you. I know why you go out in the night and hunt monsters. Do they?” She gestured at the others, all unabashedly paying close attention.

  Brandon decided he’d sat this out long enough. “This doesn’t really tell us why you’re here.” All eyes turned to him. “Is it because those two, the ones you killed, are the ones responsible for the murders here on the waterfront?”

  Jessie addressed the reporter. “If I tell you the truth what are you going to do with it? What are you going to do with what you already know?”

  Brandon blinked, shifting in his seat. “I’m not sure what you mean.”

  “You think your paper’s going to print stories about vampires? Come on.” Pointing at the minister, she added, “You should ask him what happens after you start talking about monsters in polite company.”

  Kirkbride backed farther away, his face stricken. Brandon glanced at him then back at Jessie. “You’re right. The paper’s not going to touch this and I’d probably lose my job if I tried to tell anybody. Or if I didn’t lose my job right away, I’d for sure get a rep as a nut case. But none of that has anything to do with what I asked you. If this is the work of vampires...” His voice trailed off as he realized he didn’t have any idea how they would deal with that possibility. Go monster hunting? “Look, if it’s not vampires then I know I need to keep pressuring the cops to take the idea of a serial killer seriously, because either way, I still don’t believe these murders are gang-related.”

  “It’s vampires,” Kirkbride said quietly. “I know it is.”

  Jessie looked at the two of them, at the rest of Kirkbride’s crew. “What do you guys think? None of you have said much.” She made eye contact with each of them, first Haywood, Rowdy then Lenny. “Monsters or gangbangers?”

  “If we didn’t believe the same as him,” Rowdy said, pointing with her chin at the minister, “we wouldn’t follow him.”

  Jessie flared her nostrils. She spun around, looking at windows and doors and the size of the room. She snapped her fingers at Kirkbride. “What kind of monsters have you fought?”

  He came to her side. “What’s out there?”

  She faced him. “The funny thing is, you’re right, and so are the cops. It’s monsters, a gang of them. That’s why I was sent here, to stop the big monster gangbang.”

  Haywood, Rowdy, and Lenny closed ranks alongside Kirkbride. Brandon walked to one of the large stained glass windows, trying to see out.

  Haywood asked, “Are they outside right now?”

  Jessie nodded. “By the smell of it.”

  “We might have to fight our way out,” Kirkbride said. He grabbed Jessie and looked her in the eyes. “Are you with us? Even though it means killing more of your own kind?”

  “I told you, that’s why I was sent here, and it’s not just my own kind.”

  Brandon saw movement in the dark. More vampires? What else could it be? Suddenly he wasn’t so sure he wanted to know. “There’s definitely something moving out there,” he called from the window.

  “What else?” Kirkbride demanded.

  Brandon heard her say the word “werewolves” as one crashed through the window and came d
own on top of him in a snarling fury of fur, muscle and flying glass.

  Chapter 5

  Jessie launched herself at the werewolf, too late to stop its claws from slicing through the flesh of Brandon’s shoulder like razor blades. He screamed, thrashing at the beast with Haywood’s nun-chucks with as much affect as a child slapping at a football player. Jessie sent the werewolf skidding across the room, planting herself between it and where Brandon had slumped to the floor. Lenny and Rowdy dragged him behind a pew.

  The vampire and the wolf faced each other for a long moment, eyes meeting in appraisal. The creature looked like a wolf, yet not. Thick black fur covered its body, its eyes glowing a bright blue. The wolf gave a threatening snarl and ran at Jessie, its powerful legs sending it across the floor in seconds: too powerful, too fast. At the last second, the moment the wolf should have been slamming into her, she dropped and flattened to the floor, the wolf sailing over her and crashing into the altar. Dazed, it stayed down long enough for Kirkbride to aim at its head and pull the trigger. A flash of movement came between the wolf and the shotgun, the blast slamming into the chest of a dark-clad man, sending him toppling backward against the wolf. They fell tangled together in a bloody heap on the floor, a shrieking howl of grief ripping from the wolf’s throat.

  Kirkbride lowered the shotgun, staring at the man in horror. He turned to Jessie. “I didn’t see him.” His voice was barely above a whisper.

  “He’s a vampire,” she said, her eyes on the two monsters. The wolf, growling and mewling, began to quiver. Its thick black fur began to slide into its flesh like needles, muscles contorting, stretching, collapsing and reforming. At the end of it the wolf’s body was replaced by that of a woman, her nakedness barely hidden by the vampire she cradled in her arms. She murmured to him, a susurrus of comfort.

  Jessie blinked, not sure she could trust what she was seeing. She pointed at the couple on the floor, her hand waving indistinctly. “Wh-what the freaking hell?” she stammered.

  Brandon rose from behind the pew, walking stiffly, clutching his bleeding shoulder. He stood between Kirkbride and Jessie, gawking unabashedly at the injured vampire and the naked werewolf.

  Leaning slightly toward Jessie, Brandon said in a helpful tone, “Looks to me like they’re a couple.”

  “A couple of what?” Jessie said, her lip curled. She snapped her fingers. “Hey, Lassie. Tell Timmy to wake up. We need to talk.”

  The wolf glared at them, hate flashing in her eyes as she growled low and menacing. Kirkbride raised his shotgun while Brandon took a discrete step back. Jessie rolled her eyes, unimpressed. She moved closer and squatted, elbows on her knees. She raised one eyebrow and said, “Wake. Him. Up.”

  “He’s weak,” the wolf snapped. “He was poisoned, and he hasn’t regained his full strength yet.”

  “Vampires can be poisoned?” Kirkbride asked.

  Jessie ignored him. The wolf met her eyes, fury battling with desperation. She opened her mouth to speak but the vampire in her arms began to stir. “Baby,” she cooed to him, running her fingers across his face. “Can you hear me, baby?” She clutched at him tighter, her long black hair spilling over them, sticking in the blood drying on his chest. She raised her head to face Jessie, pleading in her face. “He needs blood!”

  Kirkbride rushed forward, bringing his shotgun down past Jessie’s shoulder. “No way are we feeding him.”

  Jessie pushed the barrel away from her and stood. “Why don’t you keep your big phallic weapon out of my face? And no, we’re not feeding him.”

  Kirkbride lowered the shotgun and gave her an embarrassed look. Jessie held his gaze for a moment before dropping her eyes back to the werewolf. “If you want him fed, you’re going to have to take care of it yourself.”

  The werewolf snarled, glancing from Jessie to Kirkbride and the others, lingering on Brandon. He backed away farther, shaking his head in alarm. “Hell no. Stop looking at me like I’m today’s special.”

  Jessie stepped in front of him. “He’s not on the menu, Precious.”

  The injured vampire cried out softly, reaching for the werewolf.

  “It’s okay, baby,” she purred. She pulled the long fall of her hair from her shoulder and brought his mouth to her exposed neck. “I’ve got what you need.”

  His fangs slid out and sank into her flesh. Her head fell back and she moaned, a deep sound of pleasure. Almost immediately her blood seemed to give him strength. He moved their bodies until they lay on the floor, the vampire on top, his werewolf writhing under him as he drank her blood. Her cries became steadily louder.

  For a moment no one said anything. An awed whisper of “damn” slipped out of Brandon. Kirkbride shook his head, grabbing the reporter and dragging him away.

  “Hey, easy,” Brandon complained, holding his shoulder.

  “Sorry,” Kirkbride replied. He gave Haywood a look and Haywood motioned for Lenny and Rowdy to close ranks and turn their backs.

  “Oh, for crying out loud!” Jessie snapped. “Am I gonna have to turn a water hose on you two? Maybe a flamethrower?” She turned on her heel and walked to Kirkbride’s side. “This is disgusting. I may hurl.” She glanced back at the pair on the floor. “Get a room!”

  Haywood said, “Why aren’t we killing them, exactly?”

  Kirkbride started to speak but Jessie cut him off. “Because I want to know what the hell is going on. Then you can kill them. Hell, I’ll even help you.”

  “What’s going on is this vampire and his...girlfriend have been having themselves a nice little feeding frenzy, and now it’s time for it to stop.”

  Jessie looked up at Haywood, quirking an eyebrow at him. “You don’t seem like a guy who suffers from a lot of moral ambiguities. I like that.” She jerked a thumb over her shoulder at the couple in question. “And their feeding frenzy is over, but part of my job is to question them. Then they die.”

  Kirkbride asked, “What sort of details are you looking for?”

  “Yeah,” said Brandon. “I thought you said it was just a big monster gangbang.”

  The werewolf gave a loud, drawn out cry, like something from a pay-per-view channel.

  “Oh, vomit a lot,” Jessie muttered, rolling her eyes. “Vampires and werewolves are enemies. The battle isn’t what you’d call hot right now, but our monarch and theirs don’t see eye to eye, so no peace agreement. There hasn’t been a major conflict in years, just a dust-up every now and then. My king wants to keep it that way.”

  “Then isn’t this a good thing?” Brandon asked, to shocked stares from the mortals present. “I mean, those two seem to get along.”

  Jessie sneered. “Those two are disgusting and unnatural.”

  “And you’re a bigot,” said the male vampire.

  The group turned to find the injured vampire standing, albeit unsteadily. Tall and lean, he had a well-muscled build obvious under black cargo pants and dark-blue hoodie, which were covered in bloodstains and torn from the shotgun blast. Close-cropped dark blond hair, light brown eyes and Nordic cheekbones would have made him handsome, if he weren’t dirty and rather sickly looking. Even so, there was no fear in his face, just a sort of tired resignation. Addressing Jessie, he said, “Did the king really send you?”

  “Of course he did! This kind of mayhem attracts way too much attention. It’s going to stop, now.”

  “Who’s going to stop us?” The werewolf rose from the floor to stand with her vampire, wrapping her arms around his waist, heedless of her nudity. Almost as tall as him, her long black hair flowed down her back, honey-colored skin marred here and there with scars and smeared with blood. The fresh bite wound on her neck still bleeding, she stared at them with defiance. Generous curves and an almost tangible inner heat gave her an incredibly sexual aura, tempered by an undercurrent of savagery. “You and these weak humans?” Her lips curled into a feral smile.

  “Trust me, Toto, I can do it all by myself,” Jessie answered with a smile of her own. “But if they want to have some
fun too, who am I to argue?”

  Kirkbride motioned to Rowdy to take the shotgun and keep it aimed at the wolf. He took off his trench coat, quickly emptied the pockets, and took a few steps forward, holding it out to the wolf. She gave him a disdainful glare but the male vampire accepted the coat with a nod of thanks and gave her a look. Reluctant, she shrugged into it and buttoned half the buttons after another look from her boyfriend.

  “What if we leave? Disappear?” said the vampire. “Would the king have you hunt us down?”

  Jessie stared, too stunned to speak.

  “I heard you tell them you want to know what’s going on. Do you really?” His amber eyes glowed with intensity. He was not quite pleading but definitely looking for an opening.

  Jessie knew it would be a mistake to give him one, but her curiosity got the best of her. She sighed deeply. “It’s a whole big sordid soap opera, isn’t it?”

  “Do you want to know or not?” he snapped.

  Jessie felt a cloud of anger bloom then relaxed. She took a seat on the top step to the altar and motioned for him to sit at the opposite pew. He did, pulling the werewolf to his side. After a moment, Kirkbride seated himself next to Jessie then Brandon moved to her other side. Lenny and Rowdy arranged themselves on the next lowest step, Rowdy still holding the shotgun in the monster’s direction. Haywood swore quietly under his breath and after a moment, finally joined them.

  “Okay. Let’s hear it,” Jessie said. “Start with names. Or should I just call you Garfield and Odie?”

  The werewolf growled, lips pulling back from her teeth. Jessie peeked at Brandon out of the corner of her eye. He looked like he wanted to take notes and ask questions. Good, better than freaking out.

  The male vampire glared at Jessie for a moment before speaking. “Her name is Margot.” He took her hand in his, raising it to his lips and kissing the back of her hand, her palm. For a long moment the two gazed at each other as if no one else was in the room. Before Jessie was about to speak, he continued. “My name is Draven.”