Fourteen. In a sea of how many? “How many of our men did we lose?”
“One, only. Another wounded, but he’s still able to fight. We’re ready to move out.” Check straightened his shoulders. “At your command.”
I glanced at Rhia. She gave me a nod.
“Then let’s get a move on. We’ve got to get into town and rout them from the police station so the officers who are still alive can return to their headquarters and regroup. How many patrols are still out there?” I turned to Lannan. “Do your men know?”
“I will find out.” He took off. One thing I could say about the vampire. When we were pressed to the wall, he focused on business and getting things done. He kept his sleazy nature for when we weren’t in immediate danger.
As we headed downstairs, the smell of blood was overwhelming and my stomach lurched. But what made me queasier was the fact that I was getting used to it. The sight of shattered corpses and the slick feel of blood under my feet were beginning to feel like a normal way of life.
The room was thick with bits of offal scattered here and there, along with splintered bones, arms and feet and hands that had been severed and tossed aside. Rhiannon stood as steady as I, and I reached out and took her hand. Together, we entered the room and surveyed the damage.
Nothing had been left standing—the furniture was gone, all of it. But over near the fireplace, I caught sight of a small trinket box. I picked it up. The glass was intact, and inside was the diorama of a small child skating on a pond near a winter landscape. As I lifted the lid, the Skater’s Waltz tinkled out, the tinny sound catching at my heart. This was important to someone who had died here—it had been a birthday gift or a Christmas gift, or some such token. I slowly shut the lid and handed it to Rhiannon.
“Save it for Andy—give it to him, to remember his life by.”
“He’s magic-born, you know.” She cocked her head, running her fingers over the box. “I don’t know what gifts he’ll have, but I could feel the magic around him.” As she slid the box into the bag she’d slung over her shoulder, she gave me a sad smile. “I wish we knew his parents’ names . . . to tell him when he gets older and wants to know.”
“We don’t have much time, but let’s . . . Here . . . look.” I picked up an envelope that had fluttered off one of the tables or desks. It was a doctor’s bill, from a pediatrician. A bill for treating Andy for a cold. “His mother and father were Roy and Rebecca Chase. That much you can give him. Later on, we can check the city records and find out if he had any brothers or sisters, and hopefully figure out who the others here were.”
Lannan sauntered back over. “We put out a call. There are fourteen units, each with two men, still prowling the town. So we have at least twenty-eight officers alive. We should go. We are nearing the police station, and the sooner we evict the Shadow Hunters, the sooner they can return and secure it. I’ll have some of my men stay through most of the night to help them reinforce it.”
We headed out, our makeshift army of vampires and Fae marching through the street. True to his statement, we were only about six blocks from the precinct headquarters. As we jogged through the snowy streets, no cars glided down the roads, and the signs of struggle were everywhere. Houses with their lights on stood silent, some obviously barricaded, some plundered. I thought I saw once a face staring at me from an upstairs window—watching us as we hurried through the night, an army to fight back the darkness.
About a block away from police headquarters, one brave—or perhaps foolhardy—man raced out of his house. He was older, and he was carrying a shotgun. “You’re going to fight them, aren’t you? I want to help.”
I looked at him. He was old enough to be a grizzled grandpa, but his gaze told me he’d seen his fair share of trouble. “It’s dangerous out here. You should go back inside and bar the door.”
“If we don’t stop them, there won’t be any door they can’t break down, or any barricade strong enough to withstand them. I want to help. I’ll take orders.” His jaw set, he gave me a steely-eyed stare.
I glanced at Check, who nodded.
“Fine, but you do as you’re told. Is anybody inside your house?” I nodded at the open door.
“No. Bastards took my wife this morning. I managed to get inside before they caught up to me. There wasn’t anything I could do to help her.” His voice quavered. “Forty years. Maddy and I withstood fights, we broke up three times and got back together. Our son died overseas, and our daughter was in and out of jail all through her teen years, but now we have three grandchildren from her. I bounced back from a heart attack, and Maddy made it through breast cancer. But here, in what’s supposed to be a safe and cozy town . . . in our front yard . . .” His voice trailed off, and he dashed his hand across his eyes.
“What’s your name?”
“Trevor. Trevor Grant. My wife was named Maddy.”
“Welcome to the front lines, Trevor.” I would have smiled, but there wasn’t much of anything to smile about at this point. He gave me a short bow, and I realized he knew who I was.
“Thank you, Your Majesty.”
“Get in line, soldier.” Grieve clapped him on the shoulder. “You’re with us now.”
The older man seemed to appreciate the order, and he proudly marched back to Fearless, who showed him where to go. Chances were he wouldn’t make it through this alive, but if he did, he’d have a place in my Court if he wanted one. Yummanii though Trevor might be, he had what it took to be a member of the Winter Court.
As he worked his way to the center of the line where Fearless had assigned him, another call startled me. I turned, as did the guards, in time to see several men and women straggling out from behind a thick patch of brambles. They were scratched and bruised, with some bleeding, but they were alive.
“We want to join you, too.” The man in front stepped forward. “We’re magic-born and have a smattering of spells that might help. We’ll do whatever you need.”
Grieve tapped me on the shoulder. “They could be spies.”
I gave them the once-over. Could be, might be . . . But if they were, what better place than to have them where we could see them?
“Report to Fearless. You do what he says—that’s the one order. You break it, I won’t vouch for the consequences.” I held the man’s gaze, challenging him slightly, but he merely nodded and led the brigade of ten back along the line, where Fearless interspersed them, making certain our guards were surrounding each one of them. He also perfunctorily patted them all down to make certain nobody was carrying anything like explosives. Once they were in place, we quickly covered the remaining distance to the edge of police headquarters.
The building was functional, yes, but the architect had also had vision. New Forest’s police headquarters was crafted out of concrete, but with pillars and an embellished façade that gave it a feeling of importance. No run-of-the-mill building, this. A statue of a woman holding the scales of justice stood out front, ten feet tall and towering over the courtyard. Because the police were headquartered in city hall, there were concrete benches and picnic tables surrounding the courtyard, and what looked like sculptures—all buried under the heaping mounds of snow.
The lights were blazing from inside, through the open double doors. One of the heavy metal doors had been ripped off its hinges, and an uneasy feeling hit the pit of my stomach. There were bound to be Shadow Hunters still in there, though I doubted they would deliberately set out to occupy the building. They weren’t like a regular militia, and Myst wasn’t attempting a political coup. At least, not in the usual sense of the word. No, she was out to destroy the existing structure, not just take over. Myst wanted a new world order, where her people were free to hunt as they desired.