The Undead Pool

“I thought that was the end of it, but I came in this morning to find they went to the top floor to take more readings.” Edden gestured at the destruction. “And then this happened. There should be thirty people up here handling this, and I’ve got two. I was lucky to get the dogs up here to look for survivors.” Softer, he added, “Most of our resources are at a gymnasium full of high school kids being detained by vampires because some idiot kid yelled ‘Free Vampires rule.’ I’m running out of lies, Rachel, but the truth will ignite forty years of hidden hatred and fear.”

“My God,” I whispered, thinking of Ivy, and Edden held up a hand.

“We’ve got it under control,” he said, but I didn’t feel any better. “The I.S. has a couple of agents over there helping us defuse the situation, but eventually someone is going to do something stupid we can’t come back from.” He looked over the pile of desks and chairs to where Bancroft shouted. “It was a mistake to name the Free Vampires as the reason for the masters being asleep. I don’t know why I went along with it except that everyone is afraid of a plague, and only half the population is afraid of vampires.”

My eyes slid to Landon, who was ignoring me with a stiff-jawed determination. I could tell by the slant of his shoulders that he’d pushed for it. My frustration deepened, tinged with fear for Ivy. We had to find these guys and get the master vampires awake before the vampires started staking each other first and asking questions later.

Trent’s feet shifted, the thick grit soundless between his feet and the flat carpet. “Edden, can I talk to him? Something triggered this. Maybe I can find out what.”

“You’re not going closer,” I said, glancing up at what used to be the ceiling. “Jenks?”

“I was thinking more along the lines of a bullhorn?” Trent said as the pixy dropped down.

“Rachel is right,” Edden said as he gestured for one of the officers to hand it over. “It’s unclear if he killed the negotiator intentionally or not, but I don’t like his talk about goats. Newman, call and stop the ambulance crew from coming back up. I don’t want any misunderstanding.”

Goats? Trent took the bullhorn, and I put a hand on his arm, stopping him. “Hold on a sec. Jenks? What does it look like in there?”

The pixy’s face was screwed up in a puzzled expression. “It’s as weird as a troll living in his mother’s basement, Rache,” he said, and the officers working the monitor turned to him. Even Landon was watching, and knowing it, Jenks’s dust shifted to a nervous pink. “That pile of stuff is a big hollow ball, with lights inside everywhere making it brighter than day.”

“Hostages?” Edden asked.

“No. Just him.”

Clearly relieved, Trent rested the bullhorn on the top of the uppermost desk. Landon was watching him with an unnerving intensity that tightened my suspicion. The elf knew something. He just wasn’t saying. Frowning, I toyed with the idea of asking Edden to beat it out of him before his silence killed us. Instead, I inched closer to Trent and renewed my grip on the ley line.

The bullhorn popped as Trent thumbed the circuit open. “Bancroft?”

“Too bright!” Bancroft was shouting, his voice muffled. “Need to be higher, higher than the light. Must get between it where it’s dark. Stop looking at me, you damn harlots!”

Trent’s brow furrowed, and I edged even closer. “Bancroft, it’s Trent.”

“Trent?” Bancroft’s tirade cut off. From the pile in the corner came a sliding crash. “Trent! Did you bring your goat?”

The officers swore as Bancroft stumbled out. He was ragged, his face stubbled and his cylindrical hat sitting askew. His hands hid his eyes as if the light pained him. “Trent, we were right,” he said as he tripped over the debris, seemingly oblivious that he could walk around them. “The mystics have splintered, gone insane. I can hear them. They have to be freed so the Goddess can make them whole again.”

Jenks’s wings hummed. “He’s nuts,” he said. I agreed, but when the officer next to me rested a long-range dart rifle on the desktop, I turned to Edden.

“You’re going to dart him?” I said, appalled.

“Easy now,” Edden said, his eyes on Bancroft. “It can take thirty seconds to work. I don’t want tomorrow’s headlines to read ‘Elven Holy Man Jumps from FIB Tower.’ Wait until he’s away from the edge.”

“He’s not an animal!” I protested, and Edden’s eyes flicked from mine to Trent’s.

“The last person who tried magic on him is dead.”

“Well, thanks for the heads-up,” I said sarcastically, seriously thinking about dropping the line, but I didn’t. A protection circle was fairly innocuous. My skin was prickling. Bancroft had stopped moving and was tugging chairs and chunks of wallboard into a circle around him as if instinctively starting another nest.

“Rache, something wicked is coming,” Jenks said as he tucked back in at my shoulder.

I stifled a shudder as the feeling of cat feet walked through my soul. “I feel it too.”