“Tell me,” he says in a low voice. “Is Lucifent truly in danger?”
“God, do you think I would be bothering with all of this if he wasn’t?” I demand. “I mean, no offense, but I have better things to do than get humiliated by arrogant, self-serving vampires. For example, I haven’t even begun to study for my chem test tomorrow.”
“Then I believe you,” Magnus says simply.
“You do?”
He gives me a rueful smile. “You’re my blood mate. Why would you lie?”
I can think of a million reasons, actually. But I’m not going to mention any of them right now. Instead, I’m just going to enjoy the fact that he’s willing to take me at face value, without demanding any proof.
“Except we’re going to need some proof,” he adds gently. “I mean, if you want the others to take you seriously, that is.”
Sigh.
“But I can help you get it,” he adds. “If you know where to look.”
I raise my eyebrows in surprise. This, I wasn’t expecting.
“Okay,” I say, nodding, a plan forming in my mind. “Well, from what I understand, Slayer Inc. is as big on the red tape as you guys are,” I muse aloud. “And they’re bound to have done some kind of investigation. Maybe they’ve even put together an official commission.” I think back to some of Rayne’s past slayer assignments. She always got a folder with background information and photos, along with the slay order. It made sense to think they’d have created one for Lucifent, as well.
“Of course,” Magnus agrees. “And if we could somehow find this order and bring it back to show Lucifent…”
“Then he’d have to take us seriously,” I conclude. “And maybe we can still stop this murder before it’s too late.”
“Well, then what are we waiting for?” the vampire says with a smile. “Let’s go get our proof.”
9
My heart pounds as Magnus pulls the BMW over to the side of the road, just down the street from the spooky old manor at the edge of town that serves as Slayer Inc.’s secret headquarters. (Though evidently not so secret, since the vampire knows exactly how to get there, without so much as a Google Map.) The whole trip I’m furiously texting my sister, whom we left behind at Club Fang, to get any and all information she can give us about breaking into this place, seeing as she used to frequent it quite a bit, back in her slayer days. Thankfully she’s able to give me some alarm codes and information on the layout, so we won’t be completely on a fool’s mission.
“I can’t believe we’re doing this,” I hiss as we slip out of the car and head down the road toward the mansion. It’s pitch-dark, and unlike Magnus, I don’t have vampire night vision. So I clutch his arm and allow him to lead me off-road and through the woods. It’d be kind of romantic, if only my heart weren’t sounding like an 808 drum in my chest. After all, I know from personal experience that Slayer Inc. is no organization to mess around with. And I doubt if I go and get myself killed a second time around, Hades will grant another do-over.
“Well if we’re going to find proof, this is where it’ll be,” Magnus whispers back, gently guiding me over a small bridge that spans a stream. He’s so close I can feel his breath at the back of my neck, which sends a shiver down my spine. I can’t help but wonder if he’s feeling the same attraction to me as I am to him. I mean, he was attracted to me the first time around, so I must still be his type, right? Plus the fact that I’m no longer Gothed out to the max has to score me at least a few extra cuteness points.
I shake my head. What am I thinking? I need to concentrate on my mission here, not lapse into girly-girlness. Distractions will only get us killed. There will be time for flirtation later, after we save Lucifent.
I start to feel like a secret super-spy as we stealthily approach the mansion from behind. We locate the back door that my sister had texted me about. Hands shaking, I manage to type in the alarm code she gave me, praying it works. I can see Magnus’s questioning look, and I know he’s wondering where I acquired such proprietary information, but in the spirit of being silent so as not to get caught, he luckily doesn’t ask.
Once we’re inside, I glance down at my phone again, going through Rayne’s detailed instructions on how to get to Vice President Teifert’s office. If the slay order exists, it’ll probably be there. I motion for Magnus to follow me down a long, cobweb-filled hallway, praying we don’t run into any huge spiders on the way. Seriously, for a multinational organization, they really need to cough up a little more cash for proper custodial services.
As I step on a loose floorboard, a loud groan echoes through the house, causing me to nearly jump out of my skin. Though my sister swore to me that no one stays in this place overnight and they rely on an alarm system rather than real-life security guards, I still get the creepy feeling that someone’s there, watching us in the darkness, waiting for the right moment to pounce. I cuddle up a little closer to Magnus, just in case, as we continue down the hall.
We take a left, then a right, and then another left, and by the time we reach the end of the fourth corridor, I’m feeling kind of lost. All the doors look exactly alike in the darkness and I have no idea how we’re going to figure out which one belongs to Teifert.
“I think this is it,” Magnus points out suddenly, gesturing to yet another nondescript door as we turn the corner.
I squint at the door in question, then back at him. “How do you know? It looks like every other door we’ve passed for the last ten minutes.” I frown. “You don’t have X-ray vision, do you?” Sure, he’s never hinted about anything like that before, when listing his vampire megapowers. But maybe it’s because he wants to keep that particular ability on the down-low. I mean, it’s one thing to brag about super strength or speed. But admitting you can steal a peek at your girlfriend’s Vicky Secret anytime you like could put you in a rather awkward position with the girlfriend in question.
“Um, no,” he says with a small chuckle. “I merely have regular vision, which I used to read the nameplate located on the side of the door.”
Oh. Right. My eyes fall upon the brass plate affixed to the wall next to the door. Duh. For a secret super-spy on a mission to save the world, I really need to work on my basic skills of observation. I guess it’s a good thing Magnus decided to tag along.
Here goes nothing. I wrap my hand around the doorknob and turn.
Unfortunately, it doesn’t budge.
“Hmm,” I whisper, searching the nearby wall for some kind of security panel but coming up empty. This lock appears to be more the old-fashioned type, needing a physical key. “Can you break it down, perhaps?” Not exactly subtle, but I can’t see any other options.
Magnus gestures for me to step aside. “Allow me,” he whispers. But instead of heaving his body against the door, he retrieves a small bag out of his pants pocket and kneels before the doorknob, pulling out what appears to be a silver bobby pin and sliding it into the lock.
I watch him work, amazed. “Since when do you pick locks?” I can’t help but ask. All this time I knew him and he’d never mentioned this particular skill set.
“Since the seventeen hundreds,” he replies, keeping his eyes focused on his work. “Back then there was no Consortium or covens to unite vampires and keep them in the lifestyle they are now accustomed to.” He pulls out another pin from the bag and inserts it in the lock. “So we had to get creative if we wanted to survive.” He gives me a quick glance before going back to his work. “Just be thankful you’ll never have to live in a world like that. The forming of the Consortium is the best thing that ever happened to vampires.”
I frown, getting an icky feeling from the whole “rah-rah Consortium” speech. After all, this is the same Consortium that, in my time, is trying to take over the world. The same Consortium that has accused Magnus of treason and cast out his coven, simply because he spoke out against their dictator of a leader and asked for a return of democracy. Not exactly the kind of organization that makes you feel all warm and fuzzy inside.
r /> But the problem is, I realize, none of this has happened yet, and thus, Magnus is still naively loyal to the group. Heck, it took him a ridiculously long time to see the truth the first time around. And now I’m going to have to start from scratch if I want him on my side to help us take Pyrus down.
But first things first. Save Lucifent now. Prove I know what I’m talking about. Then maybe they’ll listen to me about the rest.
Magnus rises to his feet. “Got it.”
I give him two enthusiastic thumbs up. “Thank God for your misspent vampire youth,” I tease. He flashes me a bashful grin, then grabs the knob, turns it, and pushes open the door.
CREAK!
I cringe. Turns out, even if you are wise enough to go about picking locks instead of using vampire strength to break down the door, if the door in question hasn’t been WD-40’ed in the last fifty years, it’s not going to exactly work in your silent favor. In fact, I couldn’t imagine a louder noise than if we’d detonated some C-4 to blow the door in. If anyone really is here, lurking in the dark, they now know without a doubt they’ve got company.
“Let’s get this and get out of here quick!” I urge.
Magnus doesn’t need a second invitation. I follow him into the office and head straight for the desk at the center of the room, rummaging through drawers as fast as my hands will let me, searching for our proof. Magnus takes the file cabinet at the far wall, dumping out drawers and scanning documents with super-speed, all while keeping a watchful eye on the door.
“Look!” I cry, grabbing a folder marked Lucifent from the pile. Magnus drops the papers he’d been rummaging through and joins me at the desk. With trembling hands, I peel open the folder and examine the contents inside. Could this be our smoking gun?
“Hell,” Magnus swears under his breath, evidently a faster reader than me. “You were right. They really are planning to go through with it.” He grabs the folder from my hands and slaps it shut. “Let’s go,” he says. “We have to get this to Lucifent. Pronto.”
“I don’t think so,” snarls a female voice.
I shriek as a figure steps out of the darkness and stands, silhouetted in the doorway. Oh God. We’ve been caught. And not only caught, but caught by the worst person possible to get caught by.
Bertha the Vampire Slayer. My murderer.
10
Bertha the Vampire Slayer. I’d almost forgotten what she looked like, pre–extreme makeover. But the sight of her now brings it all rushing back to me. A pockmarked face, greasy blond hair, beady little pig eyes, and a body smooshed into tight black leather three sizes too small. The fat oozing out the sides makes me more than a little nauseated. Or maybe it’s the sight of the wooden stake, holstered at her side.
“Who are you?” she growls. “And what do you think you’re doing here?”
My mind races for an answer that will save us. I do not want to face her in a full-on fight after the last time. Then I remember I’m still technically posing as my sister. Maybe that can work out to our advantage.
“My name is Rayne McDonald,” I declare with as much bravado as I can muster on short notice. “I am a vampire slayer, like you, and I have apprehended a prisoner.” I turn to gesture to Magnus, at the same time trying to wink at him without Bertha seeing so he’ll understand this is only a ruse. The last thing I need is for him to believe me and try to take both of us on.
Luckily he seems to get it, bowing his head and looking all submissive-like.
Bertha screws up her face. “That’s impossible. There’s only one girl born in each generation, destined to slay all the—”
“Save it, you Buffy wannabe,” I interrupt. “Do you really think Slayer Inc. wouldn’t have a backup stashed away for emergencies? Especially when their so-called destined slayer can’t seem to keep her cholesterol levels in check.” I give her a pitying smile. “I hate to tell you, Bertha my girl, but you’re not exactly the special snowflake you think you are.” I grab Magnus roughly by the arm, praying he’ll continue to play along. “Now if you’ll excuse me, I have to process my prisoner.” I make a move toward the door.
For a moment Bertha is silent and I start thinking we’re actually going to get away with this nonsense. But just as we reach the door, she leaps in front of us, blocking our path. “If you really are a slayer,” she says, “then you’ll know the secret password.”
Oh crap. Rayne didn’t tell me there was a secret password. Or maybe there isn’t. Maybe she’s trying to fake me out or something.
“Please. There is no password,” I decide to try, seeing as even if there is one, I don’t have a clue as to what it could be. “Now get out of my face before I report you to Teifert for obstruction of slayer justice.”
Bertha calmly stretches out her arm, reaching for a button on the wall. As she depresses it, a steel door comes crashing down over the only exit and an alarm starts blaring. Uh-oh. Guess I guessed wrong on the password thing.
A computerized female voice comes over the airwaves. “Intruder alert. Intruder alert.”
I glance over at Magnus. So much for bluffing our way out of here. Now our only option is to fight. As Bertha lunges at me, I leap aside, dodging her attack while my eyes scan the room desperately for some kind of weapon to even the playing field. But, for a vice president of a vampire-slaying organization, Teifert seems decidedly understocked in the arsenal department, with not even a spare stake to be seen.
Bertha whirls around, her face a mask of anger as she winds up for round two. But this time Magnus is ready for her. He hurdles in front of me, his fangs clicking into place as he grabs her roughly by the shoulders.
“Oh, you want to play, too, vampire?” she snarls.
Quick as lightning she flips herself backward, freeing herself from Magnus’s grip and launching to the other side of the office. For someone so skinny-challenged, the girl can really move when she wants to. Once she’s out of fangs’ way, she whips out her stake, lunging forward at Magnus with a screeching battle cry.
I stare in horror as she rushes him, déjà vu hitting me hard and fast. This was exactly how she took out Lucifent. Quick, decisive, and without a single line of Buffy-esque banter. Just charge, stake, and poof! No more Blood Coven Master.
I can’t let that happen to Magnus.
I step in, shoving the vampire out of her path as Bertha brings her stake down. The sharp wood drives into my forearm instead, causing me to squeal in pain. I may not be a vampire who implodes from a stake to the heart, but let me tell you, it still doesn’t feel like a day at the beach to have a piece of wood jammed into one’s flesh. Not to mention the major sliver potential.
Bertha, evidently startled by my sudden heroics (after all, what vampire slayer jumps in to save a vampire?) seems confused, staring down at the stake embedded in my arm. Before she can manage to rip it out, I take advantage, slamming my fist into her face as hard as I can. Unfortunately I’m no prizefighter, so I’m not a hundred percent sure my valiant efforts will even leave a bruise, but I feel pretty cool for landing my first punch, nonetheless. If only Rayne were here to see me now.
Bertha staggers backward, her hand flying to her face. Magnus springs into action, moving so fast I can barely track it. Gotta love the vampire super-speed. He tackles Bertha, bringing her crashing to the floor, using his weight to pin her down.
I yank the stake out of my arm, trying to ignore the gush of blood that splashes from the open wound onto the floor.
“Go!” Magnus cries, struggling to hold down the writhing slayer beneath him. “Run! Get out of here!”
I have to admit, it’s good advice. But at the same time there’s no way I’m abandoning my boyfriend to a slayer. Sure, he appears to have the upper hand now. But I know how slippery Bertha can be. And if I did jump ship and something ended up happening to him? I’d never be able to forgive myself.
Sure enough, a moment later, Magnus screams in pain, stumbling backward, freeing Bertha from his hold. At first I can’t figure out what happened,
but then I see the knife sticking out of his gut. A knife that I’m pretty sure, from his reaction, is made of pure silver. Just as iron is poison to some fairies, so silver is to vampires. Bertha rises to her feet, straddling Magnus’s prostrate frame, her back to me.
“Time to die,” she growls, reaching for the knife.
Rage explodes inside me. Once again the slayer has gone too far. With a bellowing, Braveheart-esque shriek, I charge, slamming the stake into Bertha’s back. Again, I know it probably won’t do any permanent damage, but a piece of wood stuck in your back is a piece of wood, when all’s said and done.
She screams in pain, whirling around to face me, her beady eyes bulging with anger. “Oh, I’m sorry,” she says. “Did you want to go first?” She stalks toward me, her steps eating up the room with a frightening pace. I back up, now weaponless, until I’m flush against the wall. I steal a glance at Magnus, hoping for a last-minute rescue, but something tells me that’s not going to happen, what with him thrashing on the floor in pain and all.
Bertha reaches me. I try to shove her away, but she’s too strong, wrapping her meaty hands around my neck and squeezing tight, cutting off my air passageways. I latch on to her hands with my own, desperate to pull them away as I struggle for breath. But I can’t seem to pry them off, no matter how hard I try. My vision starts to blur. My lungs are empty. Could this be it? Could this be game over once again? That would be so unfair, to allow Bertha to kill me a second time.
“Wait!” a male voice booms. As Bertha releases her grip in surprise, I glance over to the doorway. The metal wall has lifted and standing there in a bathrobe and bunny rabbit slippers is none other than Vice President Teifert himself.
What, is everyone having a Slayer Inc. sleepover or something?
Teifert steps calmly into the room, as if all hell isn’t currently breaking loose. He presses the alarm button on the wall and the sirens fade to oblivion. The room is now eerily silent as he surveys the scene.