She stepped inside. Nothing stirred the blackness except the wild beat of her heart. Yet she wasn't alone. The vampire and the soul sucker were both here — along with someone new. Another shapeshifter.
Two was tempting fate. Three was inviting a trip to the nearest morgue. But she couldn't retreat. Not when the image of little Daniel Baker rose in her mind like an accusation.
She edged forward. The farther she moved into the warehouse, the heavier the air became. The scents of age and rotting rubbish mingled with the ripe aroma of evil, turning her stomach and making it difficult to breathe. It didn't help breathing through her mouth, either. The air tasted as flavoursome as it smelled.
Her foot hit something solid, and metal rattled across the concrete floor, the noise pealing like a bell through the silence. She cursed under her breath, but the night seemed to amplify her words and echo them across emptiness.
Laughter answered, deep but feminine.
She hesitated, her gaze sweeping the night. The soul sucker wasn't running any more. It was out there, watching Kat struggle through the ink. Waiting for the slightest mistake to be made.
Despite the chill in the air, sweat trickled down her back.
A white ash stake suddenly seemed woefully inadequate as a weapon against the creatures that waited ahead.
Her fingertips touched a wall. It was wet, slimy, even though there didn't appear to be any water running down its surface. She skated her hand across it, using it as a guide as she moved deeper into the darkness. Concrete eventually gave way to metal — a staircase, leading down into a deeper gloom.
Down to where they waited.
God, she so didn't want to go down there. Didn't want to confront these things. In ten years of fighting evil, she'd never been this scared, and she'd faced some pretty foul beings over that time. But none of them had the power to suck her essence from her body and totally destroy all that she was, all that she could be, both now and in future reincarnations.
Once again the image of Daniel rose, and she took a shuddering breath. He would have been just as scared.
And he'd certainly deserved more than four years of life.
While Gran and she had been placed on the trail of these things too late to save him and the other two kids, they were here in Springfield, Oregon now. They had a chance stop them.
All she had to do was go down into that darkness.
She took another deep breath then felt for the edge of the step with her toes. She kept hold of the banister for guidance and repeated the process, moving down slowly.
The chill in the air grew until it felt like she was breathing ice. Her fingers were so cold they ached and despite the fact she'd put on extra thick socks, her toes felt numb.
Or maybe it was just fear, paralysing her from the extremities up.
She reached the bottom and stopped. Nothing moved.
Her breathing rattled across the silence, and the wild beat of her heart echoed in time. The vampire and the soul sucker stood to her left. The shapeshifter was more distant and around to her right. There was no sense of evil coming from his direction, just wave after wave of anger and hostility. It didn't seem to be aimed at her, or even the duo she chased. It seemed to be aimed at the world in general.
And it was odd she was getting such a strong impression of a man she hadn't even met.
Evil stirred, splitting up as it moved forward. She backed away until she hit a wall, her grip on the stake so fierce her knuckles damn near glowed.
Air rushed at her from the left. She slashed the stake across the night, felt the slight resistance as the sharp point tore into flesh. The vampire howled but didn't stop.
She dove out of his way, hit the concrete with a grunt and rolled back to her feet. Tendrils of softly glowing smoke reached for her. She hit it with kinetic energy, momentarily fragmenting it.
The darkness stirred then lashed out, connecting hard.
The force of the blow against her chin sent her sprawling backwards. Her back hit the floor, and her breath left in a whoosh of air. For a moment, stars danced.
Then, the weight of another hit her, pinning her in place.
Though gasping for breath and fighting the blackness invading her mind, she still heard the vampire's snarl. She looked up in time to see the shadows unravel around him.
His dead brown eyes were inches from hers, and his teeth were extending, dripping blood in expectation of a feed.
Tendrils of smoke gathered above him, pulsing red.
Excitement, she thought. Need.
With as much force as she could muster, she smacked the heel of her palm into the vamp's nose. At the same time, she sent a surge of kinetic energy at the vapour, again tearing it apart.
"Bitch." The vampire's voice was hoarse, his breath full of dead things.
"Bite me," she said and yelped when the bastard did. She stabbed the stake into his side, using kinetic energy to force it deep.
Blue fire flickered, and the smell of burning flesh rent the night. The vampire howled and slashed at her, not with his teeth but with hands as sharp as nails. They tore across her face, and she cursed him fluently. Kinetic energy surged, again but before she could release her weapon, the vampire was torn from her.
"You all right?"
The voice was rich, husky, and called forth fantasies of long nights and silk sheets. She blinked, wondering where the hell her mind was. "Yeah."
A hand appeared in front of her eyes. "Then get the hell up, because that thing is coming back."
The shifter's fingers were a furnace compared to hers, and he pulled her up with an ease that spoke of strength.
He was a warm, solid presence she could feel but not see.
A man whose emotions she could taste as easily as she tasted the evil of the other two.
And she had no idea why. Empathy with the living was not one of her talents.
"Thanks." She pulled her hand from his, and the emotive swirl died a little. But his hostility lingered, mixed with some deeper emotion she couldn't quite define. Yet it stirred her senses. Made her pulse race.
"Get out of here," he said. "This place is too dangerous for a woman. I'll keep it occupied."
"It's not alone," she retorted. "And this place is just as dangerous for a man who has no idea what he's up against."
"Listen lady — " "No."
Tendrils of smoke formed behind the shifter's solid presence, ready to caress and kill. She hit the soul sucker kinetically, dissipating it yet again, then was flung sideways by the shifter.
She flailed her arms, battling to keep her balance. Heard a grunt as the shifter was hit by the vampire. Blue fire flickered across the deep darkness, evidence that the stake was still buried deep in the vampire's flesh. So why didn't he damn well die, like all bad little vampires should?
She dragged free the second stake and clenched it tight.
The two men were slugging it out, the shifter apparently giving as good as he got. She wondered if he had any idea it was a vampire he fought — and that the only reason he could even hit the vampire was the stake holding him in human form.
She shifted her weight from one foot to the other and fought the need to move. She didn't dare attack until the shifter was clear. The stake she held was just as deadly to him as the vampire, and the slightest mistake could prove costly.
The mist began forming again. She swore and slashed it with the stake. The air howled, an inhuman sound that sent a chill down her spine. The vapour disappeared, and the sense of old evil retreated, flowing up the stairs and out the door.
If she didn't follow it, she'd lose it. But she couldn't leave the shifter here alone, either. Not when he appeared to have no idea what it was he faced.