Memory Zero, Page 2

  Especially when it was as gruesome as this.

  The old man’s eyes were wide with fear, his mouth locked in a scream that would never be heard. His flesh had been stripped from his face, leaving a bloody mass of raw veins and muscle. No vampire had done this. In fact, none of the nonhuman species currently on record were capable of an act like this.

  She took another deep breath, then knelt by the old man’s side and felt his neck. No pulse, as expected, but his skin was still very warm. The murderer had to be close.

  Really close.

  Metal creaked above her. Her pulse rate zooming, she grabbed her gun and twisted around, sights aimed at the landing above her. Nothing moved. No one came down the stairs. The wind moaned loudly, but nothing else could be heard beyond the harsh echo of her breathing.

  Cautiously, she rose and walked back to the ladder. One more flight and she’d reach the rooftop. Whoever, or whatever, had done that to the old man might still be up there.

  She had to call for backup. There was no other choice, not in a situation like this. Pressing the communication switch, she waited for a response and quickly asked for help. The closest unit was seven minutes away.

  Her gaze went back to the landing above her and she bit her lip. Was there anyone up there? Was Jack up there? Or was this all some sort of weird setup? No, she thought. He wouldn’t do that to her. And it had been him on the comlink. Her security system had identified his voice. So the fact that the old man had been murdered at the same time she was supposed to have met her partner had to be coincidence.

  But where was Jack?

  She glanced down at her wristcom. It was twenty-nine minutes past three. It wasn’t unusual for him to be late. In the five years she’d known him, the only thing he’d managed to be on time for was his wedding.

  Maybe he was here. Maybe he was a victim of the creature who’d destroyed the old man.

  Panic surged at the thought. God, she couldn’t risk the wait for backup, not when Jack’s life might be at stake. She had to go on. She had to try and find him. If the department decided to discipline her for leaving a crime scene, then so be it. As long as she found her partner safe and sound, she didn’t really give a damn.

  As she reached the rooftop, the full force of the wind hit her, thrusting her back a step before she regained her balance. Shivering, she dragged her coat zipper all the way up her neck, but it didn’t stop the rain from getting past the collar and trickling down her back.

  “This is great, just great,” she muttered, wiping the water from her eyes—a totally useless gesture, given the conditions.

  Visibility was practically zero. If there was someone up here with her, all he had to do was remain still and she’d never even see him. With a final, regretful glance at the alley below her, she moved forward across the rooftop. After a dozen steps, a dark, boxlike shape loomed out of the grayness. Stairs to the rooms below, presumably.

  She found a door and tested it cautiously. The handle turned. With her back to the wall, gun raised, she pushed the door open and listened for any sign of movement. Still nothing.

  Yet instinct told her the murderer had to be inside. There was nowhere else he could be, nowhere else he really could have come from. Unless, of course, he could fly. But if he could fly, why would he have used the fire escape? Why wouldn’t he have just dragged the old man’s body down to the end of the alley rather than up the stairs, then flown away?

  No, he was here, down those stairs, somewhere.

  She switched the com-unit’s light back on, then crossed her wrists, holding the gun and light to one side of her body as she edged forward.

  The light gleamed off the metal stairs and puddled against the deeper darkness of the room. Three steps down, she halted again, listening. The silence was so intense it felt as if she could reach out and touch it. With unease growing, she frowned and edged down the remaining steps.

  In the small circle of light she could see several stacks of chairs lined up against the wall. Beyond that were the vague shapes of upturned tables. Obviously, someone was using the empty floor as a storage facility. She moved across to the first stack of chairs and stopped again.

  Something hit her—an invisible force that came out of the darkness to slam her back against the wall. Her breath left in a whoosh of air, and for several heartbeats, she saw stars. Then her senses seemed to explode outward. Just for an instant, the darkness became something that was real, something that had flavor and taste and body. And then she realized that it did have bodies, and that she was sensing its inhabitants through every pore and fiber of her being. As if, in that one moment, she inhabited the skins of the beings out there in the shadows, learning their secrets, feeling their thoughts.

  One of those who hid in the shadows was a vampire.

  The other wasn’t human, wasn’t vampire, and wasn’t anything she actually recognized. But it was filled with an evil so complete it seemed to seep into her very bones and made her soul shake.

  The sensation then disappeared with a snap that left her weak and shaking. She collapsed onto her knees and took a deep, shuddering breath. What the hell had happened? Never in her life had she experienced anything so weird … or so frightening. For a brief moment, she’d become one with those others. Had felt the uneven pounding of their hearts, the rush of blood through their veins. Had felt their desire to kill seep through her being and become her own.

  She wiped a trembling hand across her brow. The sooner backup got here, the better. A vampire intent on grievous bodily harm she could handle. That other thing, whatever it was, tipped the odds way too far in favor of the bad guys.

  She forced herself upright, pressing her back against the wall as she listened to the silence. Still no sound or movement. Warily, she took a step toward the stairs and then stopped. A light prickling sensation ran across her skin.

  Someone approached.

  Not understanding what was happening, she nevertheless clicked the safety off her gun and held it at the ready. “Police! Come out with your hands up.”

  Laughter ran across the stillness, soft and warm. Laughter she’d heard before. Laughter she knew.

  “I never could sneak up on you, Ryan.”

  Jack stepped into the small circle of light and stopped. She lowered her weapon, but she didn’t relax or reapply the safety. Not until she knew what the hell her partner was up to. Not until she knew whether he was with those other two she’d sensed. Trust was one thing, complete stupidity another. “What the hell is going on? And why haven’t you phoned Suzy or the department?”

  He smiled, and there was something decidedly odd about it. “I didn’t come here to talk about Suzy. Or the department.”

  There was a chill in his green eyes she’d never noticed before, an edge to his voice that spoke of violence. This was the Jack she knew—and yet, in many ways, it wasn’t. “Why not? What are you up to?”

  He smiled and lowered his gaze, silently studying the floor. She had an odd notion that time was running out—that this man, her partner, had come here to kill her. It was a ridiculous thought, it really was, but it was one she just couldn’t shake. Licking dry lips, she raised her gun a little.

  Just in case.

  “There’s a war about to begin, Ryan.”

  The abrupt sound of his voice made her jump slightly. She met his gaze squarely and saw in the green depths only death and determination. She felt no safer about his intentions.

  “What sort of war?”

  He shrugged. “A war in which man will play no part, and yet will ultimately be the loser. The wise will choose sides.”

  She frowned. Since when had Jack begun speaking in weird riddles? “And that’s what you’ve done? Chosen a side?” She shifted her feet a little, strengthening her stance. If Jack came one step closer, she’d fire, partner or not.

  So much for trusting this man beyond all others.

  He smiled his strange smile. “Yes. And now it’s your turn.”

  She star
ed at him, wondering what was really going on. Surely he hadn’t called her down here just to pick a side in some upcoming mythical war. “We’re cops, Jack. We’re supposed to be impartial.”

  He snorted heavily. “Yeah, right. Tell that to someone who doesn’t know the truth.”

  The cynical edge to his voice made her feel no easier. If there was one thing Jack had always been proud of, it was his badge. “So why do I have to choose?”

  “Because, for you, there can be no standing in the middle. It’s one side or the other.”

  She wondered if pinching herself would wake her from this weird dream, or make sense of what Jack was saying. “That doesn’t actually answer the question. I mean, why me? Why not the thousands of others who work for the department?”

  “Most of them don’t have your intuitive nature, or your determination to act on a hunch.” He shrugged. “And we need more people who can move around in the daylight.”

  Right now, her so-called intuitive nature was telling her he was lying through his teeth—at least when it came to the reasons for wanting her to join them. “Who are you actually working for, if not the department?”

  She might not have spoken, for all the notice he took. “We could continue as partners,” he added.

  God, how deep did he think their partnership had become? “Sorry. But it still doesn’t appeal to me.”

  “That’s unfortunate. Already, too many good men and women have gone missing.”

  A chill ran down her spine. “So you know about the disappearances?”

  “Of course. And they are, unfortunately, dead. It does not pay to be too inquisitive in this world.”

  “Meaning what? That they knew about you? About whatever it is you are up to?”

  “Something like that.”

  His smile sent more chills down her spine. There was nothing pleasant about that smile. Nothing rational. She licked her lips and tried to remain calm. “I really think you should come back to headquarters with me—”

  She hesitated. The odd, prickling sensation ran across her skin again, whispering dark secrets to her mind. She stared at Jack, her gaze widening. Her partner, and friend of five years, was the vampire she’d sensed earlier.

  And that thing out there in the darkness, the creature she could not name, was with him.

  He studied her for a moment, then sighed, almost sadly. “So, you know.”

  Her finger curled around the trigger, and it took every ounce of strength she had to resist the urge to shoot him. Not all vampires were evil—how often had he told her that? Certainly she had no evidence that Jack himself had crossed the line between good and evil when he’d taken the step from life to death.

  Only her instinct, and the oddly ferocious look in his eyes, said that he had.

  “Yes. But I still don’t know why,” she said.

  “Why does one normally undertake the ceremony?” Amusement touched his green eyes. “I have no wish to die, Ryan. With the eve of the war at hand, I had no option but to cross over. Humans have no place in what is coming.”

  Well, that, at least, explained his recent absence. While it took only a couple of days for a human to become a vampire, it could take anywhere between a week and a year for the newly turned to master the sensations and control the bloodlust that came with being a vamp. Some people never mastered it, and it was generally these few who were responsible for the rampages that sometimes swept the city. Given the relatively short length of time Jack had been missing, he’d obviously fallen into the lower end of the time and control spectrum.

  The sensation of danger was becoming so strong her muscles were twitching under the force of it. She took a deep breath, trying to calm down. Yet if Jack were a vampire, he would know her fear, her uncertainty. Would hear it in the thunderous pounding of her heart. “So why call me here?”

  “Because, as I said earlier, it’s your time to choose.”

  “I made my choice long ago.” And her badge was all she really had. She wasn’t about to walk away from it, even for her best friend. “I intend to stick to that choice.”

  Sadness briefly touched his eyes. “I’m asking you, as a friend, to join me.”

  Her finger tightened reflexively on the trigger, and once again it was all she could do not to fire the weapon. “No.”

  “One last chance.” He took a slight step forward. The touch of sadness in his eyes was quickly giving way to the certainty of death.

  “One more step, and I’ll shoot.”

  He smiled. “I don’t think so.”

  Sweat trickled down the side of her face. “I mean it. Stay where you are.”

  He took another step forward. “We’re friends, Ryan. Partners. You can’t shoot me.”

  There was no humanity in his eyes now, only the promise of death. It was a look she’d seen before, and she knew it preceded an attack. “Please, Jack. Don’t make me shoot you.”

  He raised an eyebrow. “You won’t. You can’t,” he said, and took another step.

  She aimed low and pulled the trigger.

  Through the booming retort of the gun, she heard his curse, heard him stagger away. She lowered her weapon, hit the panic button on her wristcom, and ran for the stairs.

  Heat flowed over her, whispering secrets. The thing with Jack was after her, running swiftly and silently through the darkness. If it caught her, she would die, as the old man had died. Quickly, but horribly.

  She grabbed the railing with her free hand and took the stairs two at a time. At the top, she hesitated and glanced down. A shadow flowed across the bottom step, then stopped and looked up. For just a second she found herself staring into eyes that were milky white and as bright as the stars. In them was a hunger unlike any she’d ever seen.

  Get out, she thought. Just get the hell out of here.

  She scrambled through the door and slammed it shut behind her. An inhuman roar followed her into the wildness of the night. She ran for the fire escape stairs, but the wind hit her with the force of a gale, thrusting her sideways. Somehow, she managed to stay on her feet and keep running. Behind her, the door slammed open, the sound like a gunshot ricocheting across the force of the storm. Swearing, she leapt onto the fire escape and scrambled down the slick metal stairs.

  One flight down. The old man stared up at her, a grim reminder of her fate if she wasn’t fast enough. Onto the second flight. Was that a footfall? She didn’t dare look up; she just kept on running.

  She hit the lower landing, then grabbed the rail and leapt over it. She landed awkwardly, and pain curled like fire up her leg. But she ignored it and ran for her car.

  A sighing sound carried across the howl of the wind. She caught a hint of movement out of the corner of her eye, but before she could react, something hit her hard and flung her sideways.

  She struck the ground with a grunt of pain, her weapon flying from her hand. She twisted, throwing punches at the heavy weight that had landed on top of her. His curses stung the night, and then he caught her hands, his grip like iron as he held her still. She found herself staring into eyes that were an odd, green-flecked hazel, and not entirely human.

  Not Jack or the creature. Someone else entirely. Someone she hadn’t sensed.

  “If you want to live, remain still and be quiet,” he ordered, his gaze burning into hers for a second before flicking away.

  “Get the hell off me and I may consider it,” she muttered, twisting left and right in an effort to dislodge his weight.

  “That creature hunts by sound and movement alone. Remain still, and we might escape with our lives.”

  A soft snarl ran across the wind. She stopped fighting and turned her gaze to the fire escape. A kitelike shape leapt off the second flight of stairs and landed awkwardly near the boxes. It made several odd snuffling noises before turning blind eyes in their direction. Her fingers twitched, pressing the trigger of a weapon she no longer held. The stranger glanced down at her, his odd-colored eyes holding a warning.

  It went again
st her every instinct to remain still, to resist fighting, and her muscles quivered as she fought to do both. The creature took a lumbering step in their direction. Her breath caught somewhere in her throat. At the other end of the alley, the howling wind tugged at the garbage bins. One fell and rattled toward the road, spewing paper and food scraps across the pavement before rolling away. The creature roared, then swung around and ran out of the alley.

  The stranger released her and scrambled to his feet. She lurched forward and grabbed his wrist.

  “Oh, no, you don’t. You’re not leaving until you tell me what the hell that thing is.”

  A slight smile creased the corners of his lush mouth. “And what gives you the right to detain me?”

  “I’m a cop, mister. You’re under arrest.”

  “For what? Saving your life?” He pried her fingers away from his wrist, his own fingers warm and slightly rough against hers. “Sorry, but I have a creature to stop. Arrests will have to wait.”

  He moved so swiftly that he almost seemed to blur. One blink and he was gone.

  The night didn’t appear to be getting any saner, she thought sourly. First her partner had become a vampire, and then she was hunted by a kitelike monster, only to be rescued by a man who could blur his form and soar into the wind. Even shapechangers didn’t move that fast—did they? She didn’t really know much about them, despite her years on the force.

  Knowing she probably didn’t want an answer to that question, she slowly climbed to her feet. Pain fired up her right leg, and her ankle suddenly felt encased in iron. Great, just great. The night from hell and a busted ankle to boot. Maybe the best idea is to just sit here and wait for the cavalry to arrive. The thought made her frown, and she glanced at her wristcom. Four minutes had passed since she’d pressed the emergency beacon, and nine since she’d first requested help. Why wasn’t anyone here?

  She glanced around for her weapon and saw it sitting in a puddle ten feet away. She hobbled to it, doing her best to ignore the protests from her ankle. As she bent down, that weird sliver of heat prickled a warning across her skin.