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CHAPTER 22

If the echo started, blam, Phaedra would eat a.45 slug.

No echo. Only her eyes looking back at me. Red and puffy like a pair of bruised welts. They said: Go ahead.

I already had enough guilt over killing one girl. I didn’t need more from killing another.

Where would I go from here? Now that I’ve confirmed the zombie attacks, I was sure I could find them on my own. I no longer needed Phaedra.

The Araneum had ordered me to find the source of the psychic signals. I hadn’t been told what to do next.

But Phaedra knew too much about vampires and the supernatural world. Then again, every human she had shared this information with-her doctors, therapists, family-all thought she was nuts. No one would believe these stories.

I’d use this as wiggle room around the rule.

I lowered the pistol.

Phaedra’s lips crooked in triumph. “Every rule has an exception, right?”

“Always.” I slipped the.45 into its holster.

“I thought so.” Phaedra slammed her door closed.

The rule had only one exception that allowed humans to live with the knowledge of vampires. Those humans must be chalices, sworn to never reveal the Great Secret or else get killed.

Phaedra wasn’t a chalice. I couldn’t bring myself to drink her blood.

The other way would be to turn her into a vampire, a request she’d already made. But she was only sixteen and I’d already decided not to fang her. I haven’t turned anyone yet and I had no plans to, especially a young woman like her.

Every time I dwelled on Phaedra, my thoughts curved back to the memory of the Iraqi girl. In my mind, Phaedra and the Iraqi girl were practically conjoined. I had already killed one, I wouldn’t harm the survivor.

I got in the driver’s seat and started the engine.

Phaedra asked, “Who are the others? What kind of monsters are they?”

“You gotta make a promise.” I drove from Gino’s house. “You have to keep this a secret.”

“And if I don’t?”

I stepped on the brake. “It’s not my rule, okay? You violate this rule, we both die. It’s that simple.”

She gave a petulant sneer.

My talons extended, quick as wasp stingers. My arms were about to snap at her and I fought to keep them close to my side, my hands quaking from the effort.

Terror sparked in Phaedra’s eyes. For a moment she made no motion other than to let out a nervous exhale. Her right eye started that nervous tic. She gulped and said, “Hurt me if that’s what makes you feel better. I won’t stop you.” Her expression hardened in contempt. “You might even like it.”

The words sounded practiced. Evil. I had the image of sadistic uncles and cousins whipping her naked back and ass with belts to punish her for their sins.

I wasn’t one of them, but Phaedra had to know the consequences to both of us.

My talons withdrew and I slowly and carefully put my hand on her knee. “You talk, we die. For me, I know it won’t be pleasant. Understand?”

Phaedra’s eyes said: so what?

“You don’t understand.” I let go of her knee and settled into the driver’s seat. “I’m scared of what could happen. Me. A vampire. Think about that.”

“Scared of what?”

“Other vampires. The ones in charge of keeping us a secret.”

“What would they do?”

“Skin me alive. To a human? Something worse.”

“How many vampires?” she asked.

“Thousands at least.”

She folded her hands on her lap, not in surrender but to bide time. “All right. I’ll do as you tell me.”

Good. I smoothed my coat. I drove the Toyota toward the county road. I felt relieved for two reasons. First, Phaedra understood what was at stake. Second, I’d gotten the point across that her psychic powers couldn’t always protect her.

She put a hand to her blinking eye to keep it still. “You were going to explain about the others.”

Might as well tell her. I was miles past the line I was never supposed to cross. “Zombies.”

Her eyes moved in a searching pattern. She gave a tiny chuckle. “This is all crazy.”

She shut her eyes tight, so tight that her eyelids seemed glued together. “Maybe this is a hallucination.”

“Phaedra,” I said, “open your eyes and deal with this. You wanted to know. Here it is. Gino’s dead. So is Stanley. Zombies killed them. And you wouldn’t have recognized Barrett. None of this is a hallucination. You could be next.”

Phaedra kept silent and stared out the windshield.

We trekked north, down the canyon.

“What are they like?” she asked. “The zombies?”

“Disgusting. Revolting.”

“How are you better than them?”

I laughed. “Don’t put me in the same category. They’re walking bags of septic waste. Besides, Gino asked me for help, right? I’m the good guy in this story, aren’t I?”

“Are you?”

“For your sake, you better hope I am.”

“And your job is to wipe them out?” she asked.

“As extinct as possible.”

“Does the government know about them?”

“Our government knows a lot of stuff.” The feds certainly knew about aliens and UFOs. “But zombies? I don’t think so.”

I better be right. Otherwise our government had their greedy, scheming hands on the supernatural. We’d be enslaved and destroyed.

The rain lifted. The clouds parted and sunbeams bore down from the sky. Where they touched, they illuminated the ground with a searing brilliance. The autumn colors-the yellow aspens, the red cottonwoods, the orange gooseberries and currants-made the landscape as brilliant and lively as a fresh oil painting. My eyes stung from the intense light and I put on my sunglasses.

The clouds dissolved, and when the road turned level and the land flattened into planted fields, the sky was an azure blue.

Phaedra turned off the heater and unzipped her slicker. She squirmed in her seat. Her breasts, round as apples, filled the front of her sweat top. The shoulder belt lay snug between her breasts and emphasized the swell of each firm boob. B-cups for sure. Maybe Cs. The yellow stripe on her sweatpants followed the curve of a shapely thigh. She looked as fertile as the moist farmland.

Her scents-from the damp hair, shampoo, soap, her perspiration-made Phaedra a smorgasbord of temptation.

Bloodsucking pussy hound that I am, I had scruples. Regarding sex, I don’t go where I’m not invited. In Phaedra’s case, I wouldn’t consider an invitation.

“You’re quiet,” she said, not pulling her eyes from the road.

“There’s a lot on my mind.”

“About Gino?” She arched her back and those fine titties pushed against the sweat top. “Or something else?”

That “something else” hovered in the air for longer than I should’ve let it. Minutes ago, Phaedra was buried in sorrow. Now she teased. Was this hot-cold emotional routine a family trait? Maybe growing up around career criminals had taught her how to flip between feelings as easily as turning a page in a book.

I had to change the subject. “How much do you know about your family business?”

“Is that important?”

I let my foot off the gas. “Here’s another rule. I ask a question, you give a straight and complete answer. If I ask, consider it important.”

She put those brown eyes on me and they were stormy with resentment. “I’m not supposed to talk about what I know or don’t know. In our family business, silence is golden. Anything less than golden is…” Phaedra pantomimed putting a gun to her head. “Even for me.”

I pressed the gas. The Toyota lurched forward and we rocked against our seats.

“Your family and the business have new priorities. You saw what happened to Gino. Unless I stop the zombies, keeping the family secrets is going to be easy because all of you will be dead.”

Phaedra’s face softened, then hardened, her eyes moving left and right as thoughts jumbled in her head.