Something burned past us, then a woman screamed. It was a high-pitched, wailing sound of horror and utter disbelief.
Gut churning, I broke free of Kellen's grip and twisted around. The bullet intended for me had found the head of the man behind me. And by found, I meant smashed into, and basically obliterated. Blood and bone and bits of god knows what else covered the woman who'd been walking beside him. She didn't even seem to notice, just stood there screaming and staring at the shattered remains of the man at her feet.
"Oh fuck," Kellen said.
Oh fuck, indeed. I pulled free of his arms and scrambled to my feet. After freeing my gun, I shoved my bag at him. "Grab my phone and call the Directorate. Tell them someone's had another potshot at me and taken out a civilian. Tell them I'm hunting the shooter."
"Another potshot?" He made a grab for my arm, his fingers slipping down the leather of my jacket before he gripped my wrist. "What the hell is going on?"
"I don't have time to explain." I stepped back and pulled free of his grip. Saw the surprise flicker in his eyes. Despite knowing what I was, he hadn't really realized the strength that it gave me. "Just ring the Directorate and look after that woman. I'll be back."
"But—"
I didn't hear the rest of his sentence. I simply turned and ran, following the faint scent of death and decay. The shot had come from behind and above, and that was where his scent was still coming from, I scanned the rooftops as I ran, and saw a shadow flicker on one. This time the bastard wasn't going to get away from me.
I ran into the restaurant. Waiters and patrons were already lining the windows, ogling the carnage. Only a few of them turned to look at me.
"Rooftop stairs?" I said to the nearest waiter.
He pointed to the corner. "But it's locked."
"Not for long." I ripped my badge from the pocket of my jeans and showed him. "Directorate. You have a shooter on your roof. Keep everyone here and calm."
He nodded. I ran between the tables and up the back stairs. Luckily, this building was only three stories high, so I wasn't even puffing by the time I crashed through the fire door up top. There was no time for finesse because that would only give the bastard more time to escape.
Bits of wood went flying and the thick scent of unwashed vampire stung the night. I swung around, following the scent. Had a brief glimpse of metal gleaming softly in moonlight before there was an explosion of air and something the size of a Mack truck smashed into my leg, sending me spinning.
I hit the ground with a grunt. Pain bloomed, flooding my body until it felt like every inch of me was burning.
Silver. The bastard was still using silver. And this time the bullet was lodged in my leg.
Meaning I couldn't shift shape, couldn't run. With nothing else to do—besides crawl, and that was never a fast means of escape—I lay still and played dead. Given the shooter was a vamp, he'd know I wasn't, of course, but he couldn't be entirely sure I wasn't unconscious. And given the stairwell walls were giving me cover, he'd actually have to come within sighting distance if he wanted to finish me off.
His undead aroma stained the night, neither retreating nor moving closer. My fingers twitched against the laser's trigger and the scent of blood—my blood—filled the night. It had to be calling to him, and there were few vamps in this world who could resist such a tempting little treat.
For several heartbeats, nothing happened. Neither of us moved. I tried to keep my breathing steady, tried to ignore the burning in my leg, tried not to acknowledge the fact that the bullet would soon begin to numb and deaden my flesh. Sweat broke out across my forehead, running down my cheeks, and stinging my eyes. Sweat caused by the heat of silver in my body, by fear of the consequences if I didn't remove it.
Then the vampire moved. I blinked, switching to infrared, and the dark heat of his body leapt into focus. He was walking oh so carefully toward the stairwell, his gun up and ready to fire. The minute I twitched, he'd shoot. Of that I had no doubt. And I really didn't want another piece of silver in my body.
Better by far not to give him the chance.
I carefully cranked the laser up to full strength. Rhoan had once told me that these lasers had the power to blast a hole through several brick walls and still kill someone on the far side. I hoped to God he hadn't been bullshitting. My life might very well depend on what happened next.
I sighted the laser on the vampire's dark form and pressed the trigger. The bright beam shot across the night, powering through the walls with as little effort as it powered through flesh. Only he moved, so instead of slicing off his head, I cut off a leg and a part of one arm.
His limbs plopped to the ground and he screamed—a high, inhuman sound. He fell, and flopped around like a fish out of water. I couldn't feel sorry for him. Not when his silver bullet was burning inside me.
And not when he was dragging himself toward me, the thick scent of burned flesh mingling with the reek of his anger, filling the night with his need for revenge.
I took a deep breath, then rolled sideways. Pain unlike anything I've ever felt ripped through my body, followed by a white-hot burning sensation. Dizziness swept through me, leaving me weak and ready to throw up.
I hissed, sucking in air, furiously blinking away the sweat dripping into my eyes as I tried to sight my would-be assassin. He was heading to the right of the stairwell, so I now had a better angle at his neck.
I pulled the trigger without hesitation. The bright beam flashed out, once more slicing through concrete and flesh and bone with equal ease.
The vampire's head rolled to one side, and his body stopped moving.
I was safe but not out of danger. I blew out a breath and pushed into a sitting position. The entire length of my left leg was a mess. Thankfully, the bullet had smashed through the fleshy section, not bone. Blood still pulsed from the wound, and with my jeans already saturated, there was nowhere else for the blood to go but on the ground. And the pool was spreading fast.
I had to get the bullet out. Had to get help. Fast.
I pressed the corn-link button and said, "I hope to God someone is listening, because I need help."
"We got Kellen's call," Jack said, in a voice that hinted at annoyance. Probably because I had the corn-link off once again. "Rhoan's already on his way, as well as a med team. What's the situation?"
"I've been shot with silver. The vampire is down and out. And I need to get the bullet out."
"Rhoan's two minutes away."
"I'm on the roof above Tivoli's." I sucked in a breath, gathering courage, trying to ease the sick sensation of fear. "And I need this bullet out now."
Already the numbness was beginning. I'd been shot too often with silver in the past, and as a result, I'd developed a hypersensitivity to its presence. For most wolves, there was at least some breathing space before the effects truly started to roll in. But for me, the minute silver lodged in my flesh, my body started reacting. I couldn't afford to wait for help. The numbness, and the creeping death, might have already taken hold by then.
"Riley—" Jack said, concern suddenly overriding the anger.
"Boss, give me five, I need to remove this bullet."
I took another deep breath, and released it slowly. My whole body was shaking with the knowledge of what I was about to do. What I had to do if I wanted to survive. I ripped the sodden jeans away from the wound, to get a clearer view. God, the wound seemed positively huge …
Probably just as well. It gave me plenty of room to maneuver.
Giving myself no more time to think, I stiffened two fingers then drove them into the wound's opening. Deep into my own flesh. Heat flashed white-hot through my entire body and a scream tore through me, only to lodge somewhere in my throat. Sweat became a torrent pouring down my face and suddenly I couldn't breathe, couldn't see, could only feel. And it hurt. Oh God, how it hurt.