“Come on, baby, breathe,” Connor said as he performed mouth-to-mouth on Emily. Somewhere inside him he knew that her brain wasn’t functioning, making her incapable of breathing. No matter how long Connor forced oxygen through her system, she wasn’t going to recover.
Most of Terry’s thugs had fled. Only Murray- Connor forgot his first name- still lay unconscious by the garage entrance. Finally, Connor stood. Kennedy was shocked that he didn’t cry. In fact, the tragic moment barely seemed to register.
Connor walked calmly to the bathroom. He started the bathtub running, filling a bucket with cold water. As the bucket filled, he dumped the contents of a drawer onto the counter. He rummaged through the debris of toiletries until he found a pair of tweezers.
“I’m calling the police,” Kennedy shouted frantically through her tears. “An ambulance is on its way.”
Connor didn’t respond. Without a pain killer or disinfectant, Connor’s quickly pulled the two slugs out and dropped them in the sink. Then, he grabbed the bucket and headed toward Murray, scooping up a sword along the way.
“Connor, what are you doing?” Kennedy asked.
Connor dumped the cold water on Murray and the runner woke up screaming. Then, his screams became louder as Connor drove the sword into Murray’s leg.
“Does Terry have a hideout?” Connor asked in an indifferent voice.
Murray didn’t answer. He only screamed and squirmed. Connor sighed and twisted the sword. “I’m not hurting you, Murray. You’re hurting yourself by not answering.”
“The foothills! Terry’s been having us jump the fence at night. We dug out a pit about a mile west of the satellite.”
“Thanks,” Connor said. He turned to leave finding Kennedy blocking his path.
“I’m not letting you do this. I know you and I have had static, but I still . . . you’re a part of my team, Connor. And I can’t let you go down this path.”
“I don’t need your permission.”
“But you do need me to get out of your way. Which is something I’m not doing.”
“Please don’t make it like this.”
“Sorry,” Kennedy said, folding her arms.
“So am I.”
Connor swept his feet, tripping Kennedy up. As she struggled for her footing, Connor head butted her. Kennedy rolled back, flipping to her feet. She threw a quick punch, nailing Connor’s jaw, but he caught her arm before she could pull it back.
“Do I really have to hurt you?” Connor asked.
“This isn’t the way, Connor.”
“What is? Huh? The police? They’ll bust him and put him in a cell. Maybe even hold him. Until the first full moon, of course. Then their plan kind of goes to shit. I have to handle this, Kennedy.”
“Connor, remember how hard it was after Steven and Todd Radinsky? Do you really want to go through that again?”
“No. But this wasn’t my decision. It was Terry’s.”
“Connor, this would be for revenge. You’d be killing for revenge.”
“No. It’s for survival. Sometimes, Kennedy, if you want to survive, you have to kill.” Connor jerked down and Kennedy could hear the bone in her arm crack. It took another moment for the pain of the broken bone to flood into her.
Connor grabbed the pistol Terry dropped and was out the door.
**
“Dawn, slow down,” Willow said. “I can’t understand you?”
Kennedy took the phone from the distraught teenager and started talking to Willow. “Terry and his gang came. They killed Emily.”
“Oh god!” Willow said, filling with pain. It wasn’t just for Dawn and Connor she felt bad. Willow legitimately liked Emily.
“And Connor’s gone on some manhunt to find Terry,” Kennedy said. “I’m hoping he’ll settle down, but from the look in his eyes . . . Willow, he’s not bringing Trry back alive. Part of me wants to say ‘Go, kid, go.’ But . . . but from what you’ve told me . . .”
“Thank you, Kennedy. Do you think you can track him down?”
“Just as soon as they’re done with me,” Kennedy answered.
“Done?” Willow said. “Who’s done with you?”
Kennedy sighed again. “Dawn and I are at the hospital. On his way out, Connor sort of . . . broke my arm.”
“That little shit!” Willow said angrily.
“Will. I think if I were in his position . . . if someone had done that to you . . . yeah. I get him breaking my arm. He could’ve done a lot worse.”
Willow frowned. “Kenn, I’m in Amy Madison’s old apartment in L.A. I’m going to look for some clues as to where she might be now. Get a hold of Riley Finn. His card is in my address book. He’ll be able to track Terry and catch him.”
“Done.”
“As soon as I get some info here, I’ll be on my way back to Palo Alto.”
“Guess again,” a voice behind Willow said.
A fair fight would have had Willow the hands down winner. But, distracted as she was by the cell phone, the superior witch was completely unprepared for Amy’s spell.
The cell phone hit the ground and Willow hit the back wall of the apartment.
“Should have known you’d come snooping around here,” Amy said, raising her arm and lifting Willow into the air by magic.
Willow spun in mid air and dropped, landing gently on her feet. She threw her hand up and drove Amy back, through the wall behind her. Willow struggled to pull her hand into a fist, then pulled it toward her, pulling Amy back into the room.
Amy, anticipating this move, worked hr own spell to drive her forward. She shot into the room like a rocket, faster than Willow anticipated, and nailed Willow in the head. Willow dropped to the floor. Amy pulled out a dagger and swung it toward Willow. Willow held up her hand and a kind of force field came around her. The knife could get through, but Amy’s arm couldn’t. Amy dropped the knife and it fell straight down, landing in Willow’s arm.
The field dropped and Amy, tired of the magic dual, grabbed a metal lamp from off her desk and slammed it down into Willow’s face. Willow dropped to the floor unconscious.
***
“I’m Special Agent Finn,” Riley said, holding up his badge. “This is Special Agent Graham Miller. We’re with the FBI and we’re taking these women into protective custody. This is now a federal terror investigation. We’ll consult you as needed and give you information when necessary. But make no mistake. When the bureau’s called in, the bureau’s in charge.”
“How many times have you made that speech?” Sheriff Carpenter asked.
“Eleven times,” Riley said with a charming smile. “Including today.”
Stanford Sheriff Melissa Carpenter was an easy going woman who didn’t particularly care for shootings and gang violence on her campus. In truth, it was a relief to hand things over to more experienced law enforcement officials with better resources. She handed Riley her business card.
“My home number’s on the back,” Carpenter said. “I see your wedding ring, so I’m not hitting on you. Just want you to know that if you need help, you can call me day or night. Otherwise, we’ll do our best to stay out of your hair.”
“Thank you, sheriff.”
Graham stood next to Riley and whispered in his ear. “Harris is on my ass for updates every half hour.”
“Sorry about that.”
“You should be,” Graham said.
“How did I know he was going to move up so fast?” Riley looked at Kennedy and Dawn. “How do we find this kid?”
“Which kid?” Kennedy asked.
Dawn, seeing Riley’s confusion, sighed. “We have a friend. Connor.”
“Oh, Jesus,” Graham said. “Him again.”
“Let me guess,” Riley said. “He thinks this case is his personal responsibility, too. Does anything happen that isn’t his fault?”
“It’s not a responsibility,” Kennedy said. “It’s a vendetta.”
“Emily,” Dawn said. She began to get choked up. “The victim. She’s . . . she was Connor’s girlfriend.”
“Why can’t he just summon a vengeance demon like a normal person?” Graham asked.
“I don’t have the details,” Kennedy said. “But he grew up somewhere that killing to survive was apparently the thing to do on Saturday night.”
“This isn’t to survive,” Riley said. “Self-defense is okay. Revenge isn’t.”
“If Connor kills for revenge,” Graham translated. “We take him in.”
“I’m a slayer,” Kennedy said, holding up her cast. “If I couldn’t take him in, you two don’t have too much of a chance.”
“We have lots of chances,” Graham said, pulling back his jacket to reveal his pistol. “Fifteen per clip, in fact.”
****
“Thought you might be calling me,” Connor said into the cell phone.
“Connor, we used to be friends,” Terry said over the phone.
“Then you killed my girlfriend. So if our relationship has deteriorated, I’m thinking it’s more your fault than mine.”
“She killed one of my own.”
“Then you killed one of mine. It’s nice that, even after all that’s happened, we can still at least understand each other.”
“I don’t want it to be like this.”
“Neither do I. But this is what it’s like.” He closed his eyes a moment. “It’s ironic, really. Emily wouldn’t want me to hurt you. She certainly wouldn’t have wanted me to kill you. And I’d never want to upset her.”
Terry sighed, hoping Connor was coming around.
“So you basically killed the one person on earth who could’ve stopped me from killing you. And when I do, Terry, it won’t be quick like it was for Emily. I want to hear you scream. I want to pay attention to each of your breaths so that when your last comes, I’ll remember its beautiful sound for the rest of my life.”
Terry felt an intense dread run through him.
“I’m going to gut your bowels out,” Connor continued. “I’m going to take your eyes as a trophy. I’ll keep them on my night table when I sleep. And every time I wake up from a nightmare about you killing her, all I’ll have to do is look up at your dead eyes and know it’s okay. I’ll know I got justice I got justice. I’ll look at them and remembered how filled with terror they were when I started cutting into your intestines. I’ll remember how they looked when the disgusting flame that is your pathetic life finally flickered out.”
“You think so?” a voice came from behind Connor. It was Jackson, another runner in Terry’s pack. “How you going to do that when you can’t even hear two guys sneaking up behind you?” He raised a shotgun.
Connor turned. “Jackson, I heard you a mile away.”
“Really? Then why didn’t you do anything about it?”
Connor shook his head disappointedly. “I did.” Connor quickly ducked out of the way.
Jackson raised his shotgun and stepped toward Connor. His foot fell through a layer of leaves onto a spike. He screamed in pain as the shotgun discharged blindly into a tree as the runner tumbled to the ground.
Connor grabbed the shotgun and pointed it at Jackson’s compatriot. “Do I even know you?”
“I’m a freshman,” the kid said. “Got red shirted.”
“Sorry to hear that. But with your werewolf speed and the several injuries and fatalities the team seems to be experiencing, I think you’ll make the starting lineup for the next meet. Now go home before I blow your kneecap off.”
“Yeah, man,” the kid said, retreating quickly.
Connor aimed the shotgun at Jackson’s head. “Tell me where Terry is.”
“Go to hell,” Jackson said as he struggled to pull his foot free from the spike.
“Why?” Connor said as he stepped on Jackson’s ankle, pushing the foot further onto the spike. “Why must you all make me hurt you? You know I can sniff him out anyway. Why make it harder on both of us?”
“It’s a mile over 280 into the foothills. Due west of the satellite.”
Connor patted Jackson’s shoulder appreciatively. “Sorry about that,” he said, nodding toward Jackson’s ankle. “Think it’ll heal?”
“Werewolf healing. It’ll be fine.”
“Good,” Connor said coldly, pointing the shotgun at Jackson’s good foot. “Because your other foot’s fucked.” Connor pulled the trigger and blasted Jackson’s heretofore uninjured foot to pulp. Jackson’s screams filled the air as Connor casually turned and walked off toward Terry’s hideout.
*****
“Do you have a twenty on the subject?” Riley asked as the helicopter swept over Stanford’s campus.
“Negative,” came Graham’s response. “But campus security is reporting the sound of gunfire in the foothills. They think it may be local PD hunting mountain lions. We’re checking if they have anyone out there.”
“I can check faster,” Riley said, indicating to the pilot to head for the foothills.
******
“God damn it!” Dawn yelled crumbling the map of the bay area into a ball.
“Take it easy!” Kennedy shouted.
“I don’t tell you to take it easy when you’re trying to slay something that won’t die, do I?”
“Actually, yeah. You do.”
“Well sorry! I’m sure that’s really annoying. Where the hell is Willow?!”
“I don’t know. And I’m probably more upset about that than you are. But my girl can handle herself. We need to find Connor before those army assholes pump him full of lead.”
“I can’t!”
“Come on, Dawn, focus. I’ve seen you do a hundred tracking spells.”
“This one’s different. He’s the child of two vampires, so he’s not coming up when I try spells to track humans. But he’s not coming up when I try to track demons, either. I tried the spell to track slayers, but no dice there.”
“Well . . . how else can we define him? Is there a spell to find track players?”
“It’s got to be here somewhere,” Dawn said, flipping through her books. “Willow found him with a tracking spell when she needed to.”
“Shit. That was . . . that was different. She has a spell to find people on her team, I guess you’d say.”
“Great!” Dawn said. “How’s it work?”
“It’s something you have to prep beforehand.”
Dawn looked down. Every time she felt like she was making progress with the magicks, she hit a bump in the road like this. It should be an easy spell, shouldn’t it? After all, she thought Connor was . . .
“I’ll be right back,” Dawn said as she stood up. She ran to Willow and Kennedy’s room and removed a small idol, a bag of sage, and a pack of matches from a drawer.
She went to the bathroom and set the idol on the floor and surrounded it with the sage. She pricked her finger and trickled blood onto the sage. It was a simple spell, really.
“Aphrodite,” Dawn said to the idol as she lit the sage around it on fire. “Goddess of Love.” Dawn closed her eyes tightly. “Take me to the one who holds my heart.”
*******
“Drop it!” Riley said, training a tranq gun on Connor as he leapt over the fence west of I-280.
Connor turned and faced Riley. Riley’s blood ran cold at the look on Connor’s face. It was farther from human than Riley had seen on the face of any human, vampire, or demon.
Connor dropped the shotgun and pistol. “No problem. I don’t really need them. For Terry. Or for you.”
Riley fired reflexively when Connor moved. Rather than moving forward, however, Connor moved back as swiftly as he could, putting more distance between himself and the tranq gun so that he could . . .
“Shit!” Riley said as Connor swatted the tranq dart from midair. He lowered the pistol to load it with another dart, but Connor was already on top of him. He kicked Riley back toward the highway. The soldier recovered his footing quickly, but Connor was already pressing his advantage, throwing two quick elbows and a kick.
“How’s your shoulder?” Connor asked as he threw two more punches.
“Fine,” Riley answered.
“No it’s not,” Connor said as he grabbed Riley’s right arm and twisted his. He jerked Riley’s arm hard, popping the rotator cuff and dislocating Riley’s shoulder. Riley hit the ground and groaned.
Connor kneeled on Riley’s chest. “How much back up do you have?”
“Connor, you need to stop. I know you think the authorities can’t handle Terry, but we have the facilities to do it. You don’t need to do this.”
“Need? This was never about need. I want to do this. I’ve already picked out the spot on my wall where I’m going to hang his intestines. Yeah, it sounds kind of gross, but they’ll actually fit the color scheme of my dorm room quite nicely.”
“So I guess there is a bit of Angelus in you.”
Connor growled audibly. “Never say that name to me. Now answer my question or your nose will hang right next to Terry’s intestines.”
“I’m a soldier, Connor. I’ve been trained to withstand torture. Even so, eventually you’d be able to break me. But trust me when I tell you, you don’t have enough time.”
Connor nodded sadly as he heard the sound of Riley’s chopper making another pass. “To tell the truth,” he said, his features softening for the first time. “I was bluffing. I don’t think I could’ve actually taken your nose off.”
Connor slammed his fist into Riley’s forehead, knocking the soldier unconscious. Taking the long hunting knife from Riley’s belt, Connor left the firearms behind. This was knife work.
********
“You think I’m afraid of you?” Terry called as Connor entered the cave.
“I know you’re afraid of me. I can smell it. I wish there was a way I could take it as a trophy, too. But the sundry body parts I plan on taking should provide a strong aroma.”
A pistol cocked behind him. Halfway through turning, Connor realized it was Riley’s partner, Graham. But the realization came too late for Connor to stop himself from throwing the knife.
Graham’s pistol fired into the cave wall as the knife sunk in his hand. Connor quickly kicked Graham’s back up pistol out of the soldier’s hand.
“You really ought to spend more time hunting bad guys,” Connor said.
“We have different definitions. To me, a guy who kills humans is a bad guy.”
“I agree. Which is why I’m about to gut the bad guy that killed my girlfriend.”
During this philosophical conversation, Terry leapt several yards and landed on Connor’s back. Graham pulled out a baton and hit Terry in the leg before the werewolf could flee the cave.
Connor elbowed Graham and grabbed Terry. He pushed Terry’s head into a cave wall. Terry spun and slashed twice at Connor with elongated claws.
“Cool trick!” Connor said.
“Been practicing,” Terry snarled, his long teeth apparent as he did.
Connor spun and kicked Terry into the wall. He blindly threw a kick behind him, nailing Graham in the gut. He faked a punch toward Terry, tricking Terry into assuming a defensive posture instead of running. In the same motion, Connor spun and punched Graham in the jaw, cold-cocking him.
Connor pulled his knife out and held it against his wrist with the blade out. When Terry threw his next punch, Connor threw up the hand holding the knife defensively, cutting Terry’s hand open with the blade as he blocked Terry’s punch.
Terry groaned as Connor cut his other arm and then sent a third slash across his chest.
“This is it, Terry,” Connor said as he gripped Terry’s collar. He held the knife to Terry’s throat. “But don’t worry. Your head’ll look great on a spike off the side of Palm Drive.”
“Connor don’t!” a female voice echoed through the cave.
“Great,” Connor said, looking up to see Dawn. “More interference. She was your roommate, Dawn! I know you had your issues, but-”
“Please, Connor. Let Riley and Graham take him. They can handle this.”
“So can I!”
“Please don’t kill him, Connor,” Dawn pleaded, coming closer.
“He deserves to die!”
“I know. But you don’t deserve to be the one to have to kill him.”
Connor’s arm went limp a second. “What?”
“You don’t deserve the guilt, Connor. You don’t deserve the nightmares. I know . . . I know you’ve had bad dreams since . . . the Radinsky brothers.”
“I have. So what’s it mean to add one more to the body count? What’s it mean to have one more ghost stalking me?”
“A lot. And you know it. You shouldn’t have had to be the one to deal with Todd and Steven. But that couldn’t be helped. This can. Please, Connor. You know in a week you’ll regret this. You already beat him. You caught him. That’s your revenge. Now let someone else take care of the rest. For once, make someone else do the dirty work.”
Connor glared at Terry. He raised the knife high so that Terry could see it, then brought it down hard.
*********
Riley’s arm was in a sling and he had a black eye. Graham, on the other hand, had weathered the beating a bit better.
“Where is he?” Graham asked angrily.
Connor, who was sitting on the trunk of his car, banged the trunk below him.
“He’s alive, right?” Riley asked.
“Might have suffocated,” Connor said.
“He’s alive,” Dawn said. “Connor knocked him unconscious with the handle of his knife.”
“His knife?” Riley said annoyed.
“Right,” Connor said, tossing Riley his knife. “Sorry. For stealing your knife and . . . you know. That other thing.”
“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” Riley said. “The report I’m filing states clearly I was attacked by three of Terry’s werewolf pack.”
“Good thing you blew that one guy’s foot off,” Connor said.
“That was me,” Graham said. “Making his the second time we’ve lied on a report to save your ass.”
“Thanks,” Connor said humbly.
“Don’t thank us,” Riley said. “Truth be told, we just don’t want the hassle and injury that would probably involve bringing you in.”
“Makes two of us,” Connor said.
“Three,” Graham corrected. “Now can we please have the guy in the trunk?”
**********
“Still no word on Will?” Dawn said.
“Don’t worry,” Connor told Kennedy in his most reassuring voice. “I can track anyone anywhere. I’ll find her in no time.”
“I thought you were out of this business,” Kennedy said slyly.
“I am. But I want to make sure that once your arm heals, you won’t try to kill me with your thumb or something.”
“Please. I’d at least use my index finger.”
Connor smiled.
“We leave for L.A. tonight,” Dawn said.
***********
Terry sat for what felt like a day in the interrogation cell. Finally, the door opened and three men entered. He recognized Riley Finn and Graham Miller; the injured agents who’d brought him into this strange prison. Between them stood a man wearing an eye patch and holding a briefcase. He seemed to be the boss.
“Agents Finn and Miller you know,” the man with the eye-patch said as he sat at the table. “I’m Deputy Director Harris.”
“I still can’t believe he got promoted so quickly,” Graham whispered to Riley.
“Agent Miller,” Deputy Director Harris said as he turned to face Graham. “When you lose part of your senses, like say vision, the others kind of pick up the slack; like, say, hearing. But even if they didn’t, I’m sitting like three feet away from you. Can you not undermine me in front of the prisoner?”
“Sorry, sir,” Graham said quickly.
Harris turned back to Terry. Terry’s eyes focused on the badge reading “Harris, Alexander L., Deputy Director, Special Operations.”
“So what kind of deal you gonna offer me?” Terry asked, doing his best to sound tough.
Xander put the briefcase on the table and opened it. Terry’s eyes registered shock at the many instruments of torture inside. “You’ve caused some friends of mine a lot of trouble. And I really want to hurt for that. But if you talk to me, I won’t. That is the deal.”
Xander removed a particularly long needle that had a hook that protruded when Xander hit a button on the handle. “The only catch, is that you better talk quick. Now, I hear you’ve already been able to master bringing out certain werewolf qualities during the day.” He began sticking the needle into Terry’s arm. “Who taught you that?”
Terry quickly pulled his arm away. “I’ll tell you!” Xander removed the needle.
“We have a pack master,” Terry said. “He turned us and taught us the ways of the pack. His name is Osborne. Daniel Osborne. But everybody just calls him--"
“Oz,” Xander interrupted. “Everybody just calls him Oz.”
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