33

WE WERE OUT the door and going down the steps when my phone rang again, that peal of church bells. I said a little prayer and picked up. "Blake, here."

"Check your email, Marshal." It was Clayton.

"What did you send me?"

"A video. I do love these new gadgets, don't you?" He hung up.

I sighed. "Go talk to your tigers. I've got to see what the bad guy sent me."

"What bad guy?" Jake asked.

I shook my head and handed the phone to Nicky. "Help me play the video he sent me."

"You know we do have spies in almost every major city, Anita. We have us in every major city."

I turned and looked at him. "What are you offering?"

He glanced back at his tigers with their circle of our guards around them. "Tell me what's happening, and I'll tell you if we have anyone or anything that can help."

"I've got it open, Anita," Nicky cut in.

"Hold that thought," I said to Jake, and turned to Nicky. He handed me the phone but stayed close so he could look over my shoulder. I didn't complain. If I needed to pause it or run it back, I'd need his help anyway. I really had to learn to work this damn thing.

The screen was surprisingly clear, like a little TV. There was a figure in white crime scene scrubs top to bottom, even with a hood on, and a face mask. She was crawling on the ground in front of the camera. I knew it was a she, because she was crying out, "No, please, no!"

A decayed hand with bones showing through the putrid flesh reached past the camera. She screamed, scrambling faster on her arms and one  good leg. The other leg was covered in blood, the coverall torn so we could see the spurt of blood timed to the beat of her heart in the back of her knee. Something had attacked her down in the crypt. The other vampires were alive and still crazed, and once daylight stopped they'd come out. Only their master could brave the daylight.

He grabbed her by her wounded leg and dragged her back to him, while she screamed. He sat on her waist, pinning her to the ground. She just screamed, one long ragged scream after another as he jerked her hood down, spilling long brown hair, and tore her mask off with his rotting hand so her face was bare to the camera. He wanted me to see how afraid she was.

I was whispering something under my breath over and over as he reached for her throat. He gripped the front of her throat and squeezed until her face turned dark, purplish with lack of air, and then he let her go. He let her breathe, and then he reached for her throat again.

"Don't," I whispered.

"He killed her before he sent this, Anita. It's not happening now. You can't save her," Nicky said.

"How do you know?"

"He'd need both hands to send the video," he said.

It was such a practical reason for the woman to be dead that it calmed me a little. It helped me watch, but he didn't strangle her this time; he dug his thick, decaying fingers into the front of her throat and tore it out like you'd rip open a ripe piece of fruit. Blood gushed up and out. Her eyes rolled, and she made sounds, horrible, wet, choking sounds.

The camera stayed on her until her eyes glazed and the only movement was involuntary twitches. She was dead; she just hadn't stopped moving yet.

He put the camera on his face so I could see the Halloween mask that was all he could have for a face in the daylight. Even the rotting vampires that could brave the light couldn't pass for human in the day, but it didn't matter now, because Clayton wasn't trying to pass anymore. The face that stared back at me was a monster and happy with it.

"Come and get me, Anita Blake. Come and get me, because I and my vampires will kill as many as we can for as long as we can." His cheek was collapsed on one side, and I could see his tongue working in his mouth. It shouldn't have bothered me, but it did. With everything he'd done, that sickened me. You never know what will push you over the edge until you see it.

A gunshot exploded over the speakers and his body jerked. He moved the phone so I saw the second shot go through his chest. "Oh, look, more police to kill." He turned and the camera swung so that I saw the uniformed officer shooting into him as the vampire strode toward him, no hesitating, as if the bullets meant nothing. A shotgun roared off camera, and the vampire's body rocked and turned to an older uniform aiming at him over the hood of their car. The vampire laughed at them both and said, "Bullets can't hurt me while I'm like this." He laughed again, and the screen went dead as more gunshots sounded.

I stared at the screen. "Fuck, fuck, fuck!"

Jake came back to me. "What has happened now?"

I dialed Finnegan's phone number, wondering if he was alive to pick up. It went to voice mail and my stomach fell into my feet. When the phone rang I made a little squeak. Fuck. "Blake," I said.

"Returning your call." It was Finnegan.

"Is the vampire still at the cemetery?" I asked.

"No. He broke through the officers and he's gone. He's a rotting corpse and he just disappeared. How can we not find him?" He was almost yelling.

"He sent me a video," I said.

"What?"

"I think he used Morgan's phone to send me a video."

"Send it to me."

"You don't want to see it."

"Send it."

"It's him killing one of your techs and about to kill some uniforms. While he's in rotted corpse form he's almost invincible to bullets. Once he looks solid, human, then bullets will work again."

"Why?" Finnegan asked.

"I don't know. I just know that's how this kind of vampire works."

"How do we find him, Blake? And what the fuck do we do when we find him?"

"Burn him. Flamethrowers."

"We've got an extermination crew on its way. We'll burn the vampires in the crypt. Why did he leave them behind?"

"I think he's insane. Vampires go crazy just like living people. Think of him as serial killer who's devolved into a spree killer."

"So he'll just kill everything he sees."

"Probably," I said.

"How do we find him?"

"Follow the trail of bodies. If he hides, then use dogs. He's a decayed corpse, Finnegan. Right now that's what he is; get some dogs and track the son of a bitch."

"Cadaver dogs?" He made it a question.

"Yeah."

"That's the best idea I've heard from anyone. I'll get them."

"Bullets won't hurt him until after dark. Only fire, so every team of dogs needs a flamer with them."

"We don't have that many cadaver dogs, or that many flamethrower teams."

"No city does. Like Morgan said, this type of vampire is very rare in the U.S."

"I'll call for the dogs. Send me the video, Blake."

"Will do. I could be on the ground in a couple of hours."

"In a couple of hours it'll be over."

"Finnegan," I said.

"No, the dogs are a great idea. You couldn't do anything but follow the dogs and the flamethrower crew around like the rest of us." He hung up.

I thought, Actually I might be able to track the vampire. I was a necromancer, but the other marshals weren't always comfortable with my psychic abilities, so I let it lie. Besides, it was a trap. If I went to Atlanta the vampire would either try to kill me or try to open me for the Mother of All Darkness. Without my people to touch and get all metaphysical with, I wouldn't be as safe against Mommie Darkest. I knew it was too dangerous to go, even if there hadn't been assassins out to get us.

"You know it's a trap," Nicky said.

"I know."

"Would you really go if they asked you?"

"I don't know." I handed him my phone. "Send the video to Marshal Finnegan."

Jake asked, "What is it?"

I told him, because there was no way to keep this out of the media. Too much death, too much sensationalism, and they had to warn everyone. It probably wouldn't do anything but make the entire city panic, but if the  police didn't warn the general populace and people died, they'd get sued, because everyone would believe that if they'd known they would have been able to keep themselves safe. I knew better, but sometimes the illusion of safety is all people have. I didn't even have that, and hadn't had it for years.