Lissa? Gavin's voice dropped into my mind, a note of surprise accompanying it. Did vampires have telepathy? Could they send and receive thoughts? I didn't have time to ponder that. Gavin, they're about to blast the wall down! North side! That was the best I could do while attempting to materialize at the same time. The attackers were nearly at the wall and preparing to shoot when I became myself.
The man at the rear of the small army had his gun yanked out of his hands and the stock of it smashing against his head in less than a blink. The ones in front of him turned toward me but I was already doing the same to them. It had taken too long for me to become solid, however. The rocket launcher fired and a gaping hole was blasted in the wall with a resounding boom, sending bricks and debris flying and bouncing across Winkler's manicured lawn. The attacking termites up front were shooting now, while answering gunfire was erupting right back at them. If I'd stopped to think about it, I would have realized that staying where I was placed me in just as much jeopardy as the termites. Bullets were flying all around me.
I was still punching and smashing as I watched the vehicle (which was armored heavily against rifle attacks), drive through the blasted opening and into Winkler's yard. Chaos erupted around me as the attackers realized that something was moving among them so quickly they couldn't put their hands on it. I grabbed one man's gun and caved his face in with the butt of it before flinging the rifle toward the man operating the rocket launcher. He stood behind a shield of some sort, preparing to fire the weapon at Winkler's house. I have no idea how hard I threw the gun but it was enough to separate the man's head from his body. The head rolled far into the yard as the body slumped over where it stood.
More gunfire erupted and I felt something sting my right shoulder, but that didn't slow me down at all. Sirens sounded nearby; the police were coming. I kicked one man in the stomach and sent him sailing. Somebody else was now climbing toward the rocket launcher. I jumped at least twenty feet, landing right behind him and tossing him far into the yard. He didn't get up. Then, just to make sure of things, I wrapped my arms around the barrel of the launcher and bent it downward. No way was it going to shoot again. The sirens were now shrieking in the alley behind us—time to get the hell out of there. I had no idea where Gavin was, whether he'd heard me or if I'd imagined his voice inside my head earlier. I leapt off the vehicle and the termites, what was left of them, were now shouting and scattering. Taking off at a run, I blazed toward the back wall as fast as I could go. No way was I going to hang around and answer questions for the police. That would be disastrous, as well as exposing my face on national news programs. Definitely didn't need that.
Climbing high into one of the trees in the neighbor's back yard, I sat there for a while, waiting for the anthill to settle down. Winkler and the others came home a little after dawn, but I'd misted into my guesthouse bedroom by that time. The police had already searched it and the perimeter was secured. I was out like a light.
* * *
Winkler wanted to grumble as he was forced to make a statement for the media the morning following the attack, although he had no desire to do so. The house was still intact but police tape was everywhere and officers, detectives and even the FBI were on the scene. Three of Winkler's security guards had been killed and he'd already released their names to the media. The authorities were still trying to sort out whom the attackers were and how they'd managed to do what they'd done. Twenty-three of those were dead, some from blows to the head. Three others who'd survived were babbling incoherently and no sense could be gotten from any of them.
Whitney and Sam were closely guarded inside the media room—Glen and Phil were seeing to that while Davis stood beside Winkler in April sunlight as he answered a few questions for reporters. "My security team performed above expectations," Winkler took the opportunity to promote his business as cameras clicked all around him and video was recorded.
"I hear that the barrel of the rocket launcher was bent," one reporter said.
"We think they ran into a portion of the wall with it, possibly bringing down some of the concrete when they did so. You can see the rubble lying all over my yard," Winkler was smiling slightly.
"How do you feel about all this?" another reporter asked.
"Lucky. Very, very lucky. That I had such well-trained personnel, who acted bravely and efficiently in the face of these terrorists."
"You consider them terrorists?"
"They caused me to feel terror. Wouldn't they you?" Winkler asked. Winkler had to deal with police and the FBI for the remainder of the day and then had to call in workmen to place a temporary patch over the hole in his wall. When he was finally alone just before sunset, he sighed and went to see about Whitney and the others. Winkler was exhausted but refused to allow anyone to see it.
"We haven't been able to check on Lissa; too many cops crawling around," Davis grumbled.
"Then come with me now," Winkler took off at a trot toward the front door, Davis following close behind.
* * *
My shoulder hurt. I noticed it was hurting before I could unglue my eyes and open them at sundown. "Lie still or I'll tie you down," Gavin was growling. He was digging in my shoulder, stabbing into it with something. My eyes popped wide open then. "Never go to sleep with a bullet inside your body, your tissue will heal around it," Gavin gritted, probing my shoulder with tweezers that looked about a foot long. Of course, they were right next to my face and they looked huge from that distance.
"Ow," I said as he stabbed into me.
"Shut up and let me do this," he grunted. "There." He pulled those things out of me, showing me the slug that had been embedded in my shoulder.
"Lovely," I muttered ungratefully, staring at the bloody piece of metal.
Gavin dumped half a bottle of peroxide into the wound next, getting me and my bed wet. That's when I discovered I was naked. "Hey," I swatted at him, trying to get him away from me. Who knows how long he'd been there, digging around? Winkler and Davis walked in right about then, so they enjoyed the show, too.
"I had to make sure you hadn't been hit anywhere else," Gavin said, getting off the bed. "You'll heal now and not have a slug inside your body forever."
"Lucky me," I mumbled, grabbing the sheet from the bed and trying to wrap myself in it.
* * *
"Honored One, she is capable of mindspeech. She sent a warning to me that lodged inside my head somehow, but my attempts to send back to her were unsuccessful. I am sorry to disappoint in that way. I am sure you have seen the news reports by now and have drawn the conclusion that she was mostly responsible for thwarting the attack for the most part. I only caught a few glimpses of her as she fought off nearly thirty attackers, but she was moving so swiftly even I could not follow her movements at times. None of the three who survived required more than a small amount of compulsion.