It was obvious that I’d just missed a fight, but something felt wrong to me, too still. Then I realized that no one was breathing hard, because they didn’t have to. I swallowed, my mouth suddenly dry. “Hello, Lex,” Maven said pleasantly. “Thank you for coming.” She looked up at me, and I almost gasped. Gone were the enormous soda-bottle glasses, and her orange hair was slicked back against her skull, possibly with blood. She was stunning, probably the most beautiful person I had ever seen. Her power was practically pulsing out of her, and I had to resist the urge to fall to my knees.
“Hi, Maven,” I managed to say. “I like the new look.”
In a sublimely human gesture, Maven looked down at herself. “Oh, thanks,” she said, giving me a little what, this old thing? shrug. “When in Rome.”
“Uh-huh.” There were bodies on the floor, at least five of them, mostly close to the bar area. Blood was sloshed over the walls and tables, and I heard whispers coming from the far side of the room, behind Maven. I circled slowly into the center of the space, and saw that Quinn was crouched in the corner next to the bar with a dozen or so terrified-looking college kids. Judging by their wide eyes, and a few urine stains on their clothes, they were human. Quinn gave me a quick nod, and turned back to the group, keeping them calm. He was obviously awaiting further instructions.
So was I. “What exactly can I do for you, Maven?” I asked.
“These two,” she said, tilting her head at the two male vampires she was restraining, “broke the peace in my territory. They started a bar fight”—she spat the words distastefully—“and killed humans, revealing themselves to the human world. Their punishment is death.” Her fingers must have tightened on the bigger vamp’s scalp, because his face twisted into an agonized grimace.
“Oh-kay,” I said cautiously. I had no problem with putting down vampires who’d killed humans, but it kind of seemed like she had all this under control. Why was I here?
“Before they die,” Maven went on, “I want you to press their minds and find out who compelled them to do this.”
Oh. “But . . . they’re vampires. Isn’t this kind of what they do?”
Across the room, I could see Quinn wince. Maven hissed, “No. Week-old vampires have better control than this. Someone put them up to it, in an effort to further destabilize my territory. I will have that name.”
Her voice chilled me, and I found myself glancing at Opal for some reason. Vampire expressions were usually pretty impassive, but her face flooded with pure fear as she looked at Maven. Oh, good. It wasn’t just me then. “Yes, ma’am,” I said, stepping forward.
As I moved closer, the kneeling vampire gave an anguished cry and twisted out of Maven’s grasp. I heard the sound of his hair ripping out by its roots as he did a neat roll onto the floor and charged straight for me.
Quinn’s voice rang out, screaming my name, but I ignored it and shifted my weight. Vampires were fast, much faster than humans, but I’d had years of combat training, and this guy clearly hadn’t. He just raced straight toward me, intending a simple tackle, so I stepped aside and thrust out my right arm, clotheslining him with my forearm. It nearly dislocated my shoulder, but he crashed to the floor. Curly shook his head hard and popped back up within seconds, faster than I could see.
Luckily I’d already picked up a high-legged bar stool, and before he rushed me again I wielded it toward him like a lion tamer, throwing all my weight against it. Three of the four metal legs drove into Curly’s torso, drawing blood and forcing him back a few steps, but I’d come nowhere near the heart. I clenched the seat and twisted as hard as I could, but with a scream of pain he tugged the stool legs out of his torso and threw his weight back against it, sending the seat straight into my chest.
I flew backward, my back hitting the edge of a table as my feet lost purchase. Ow. While I was still struggling to get back up, the vampire spun to my right, apparently deciding to cut his losses and flee.
I may not have had a stake, but that didn’t mean I was unarmed. I dropped to the floor and pulled the Springfield subcompact out of the ankle holster on my right foot. There’s no point in threatening werewolves with silver bullets unless you have the means to back it up.
I’m fast, but by the time I stood Curly was throwing Opal aside—the female vamp had apparently tried to slow him down. As soon as she was out of my line of fire, I raised my weapon and put three shots into his spine.
Curly went tumbling to the floor, and I came after him, sticking the Springfield in my jacket pocket as I walked. “Lex!” Quinn called out from the other end of the room. I turned my head to look at him, and just managed to catch the spelled stake he’d thrown in a soft underhand toss. I nodded my thanks and glanced quickly at Maven, who was watching me with widened eyes. She hadn’t moved from her position on the bar, except to lean a little harder on the pool cue—the prone vampire’s eyes were bulging with pain.
Maven gave me a curt nod—permission—and I stalked over to Curly, who was writhing on the floor, on his stomach. Only his arms seemed to be working at the moment—I’d severed his spine. Good. My back hurt too. I kicked him over and plopped down on his chest, pressing my hands against his face so the tips of my griffin tattoos made contact. “Hi. What’s your name?” I said conversationally.
Glaring and cursing at me, he tried to shove me off with his arms, but his body was so busy trying to heal the bullet wounds, he didn’t have the strength. I fended him off easily and put my hands back. “Name?” I asked again.