A chill crept up my back. When I'd given the school nurse a blood sample, I hadn't known what I was. In fact, I'd been unfamiliar with my new abilities and it had only occurred to me the next day giving them blood was a bad thing. But by then it had been too late to stop it.
"I only discovered how unusual your blood is by accident," the doctor said, his eyes darting nervously between me and Skinner. "When I spilled an acid solution and contaminated your blood sample, your blood literally soaked up the acid like nothing had happened. I tried applying heat to your blood and yet the cells adapted and regenerated. I've never seen anything like it."
"Maybe I just have a great immune system," I said, knowing full well he wouldn't believe me.
The doctor shook his head. "No, that's not it." He placed a finger under his chin, his earlier nervousness seemingly drowned out by the thrill of scientific discovery. "There are minute traces of chemicals in your blood I can't quite identify, but they bear striking similarities to steroids."
Probably demon hormones, I thought. But I couldn't tell them that. "I think you got my blood sample mixed up with someone else's, or else the acid mutated the cells."
"I've seen you in action, boy," the sheriff said. "I can tell you're holding back when you play. We want to know what you're taking and where we can get it."
"You want me for my steroids?" I almost laughed. "Planning to juice up the other football players?"
He chuckled. "Why would we do that when we could sell the stuff for millions to the right organizations?"
"The compound you're using is virtually untraceable," said the doctor. "I could win the Nobel Prize for such a discovery."
I groaned. "Bad news, fellas. I'm not injecting myself with anything. I'm clean."
A flash of black caught my eye and I saw Nightliss slinking across the tops of the lockers against the far wall. She had something in her mouth. Something black and shiny. She vanished behind a wall strut, deep in shadow.
"I think we're using too much stick and not enough carrot," said Principal Perkins. "Mr. Case, how about if we included you in the proceeds? We'd be willing to make you an equal partner."
"Hold on now," said Amerson. "We didn't agree on nothing like that."
Skinner pursed his lips. "Perkins may be right. What do you think, Case?"
"I told you. I'm not taking steroids. I'm not taking drugs. I'm clean. The doctor made a mistake."
Amerson pounded a locker with the bottom of his fist. "I say we make an example of one of his friends." He gripped me by the shirt, his cigarette-stained breath nauseating to my supernatural sense of smell. "You don't appreciate the things we could do to make your life miserable, boy. One word from me and one of your friends vanishes into another unsolved mystery."
Heat pulsed into my face and fury roared through my veins. I clenched my fists tight to keep myself from slamming this bozo against the lockers until his body turned to mush. The reasonable nerd in my head grabbed my demonic fury by the arm and told me killing this man wouldn't guarantee the safety of my friends. It would only make me a murderer. More than anything, I needed Elyssa's brain to sort this out.
"Leave my friends out of this," I said, my voice tight with anger. "Take my blood, do whatever you need to do to find this steroid you're talking about but leave my friends alone."
Amerson slammed me against the lockers. "Son, you've got about ten seconds before I have my men teach you a few new things about pain."
Principal Perkins pulled the police chief off me. "All right, Jim. You've made your point. But I'm starting to believe Mr. Case here might be telling the truth. Why else would he offer up his blood?"
"Because he's protecting someone," Amerson snarled. "Or else he's got plans of his own."
Skinner tilted his head to the side and regarded me for a moment. "I'm inclined to agree with Lee on this. I think the boy would give up a drug before offering his own blood for testing." He looked at the gaunt-faced doctor. "What do you think, Doc?"
"It will take some time—perhaps a great deal of time—but I could probably isolate the chemicals and formulate something. But I'll need a properly equipped lab."
"Jim, didn't your lab boys just get a big upgrade from the state recently?"
Amerson's lip curled into a snarl as he stared me down, but he nodded at the question. "Yeah. State of the art."
Perkins clapped his hands. "Well, there we go. Problem solved."
Sheriff Skinner pursed his lips and regarded me for a moment. "Just to make sure Mr. Case understands how serious we are, I think we should enact our insurance policy." He pulled out a radio that appeared to be separate from the one he wore clipped to his lapel and clicked down the receiver. "Status?"
"Gold," a voice whispered back.
"What the hell are you doing?" I asked.
"Don't worry, son, we're not going to harm any of your friends—not directly at least. Consider this a test."
"A test of what? I told you'll I'll participate. What's going on?"
"Your girlfriend, Elyssa Borathen, I believe? She's about to lose a parent to a tragic run-and-gun robbery. I'm sure you'll be there to comfort her, though, won't you?"
My heart almost stopped. Could they kill Leia by shooting her? She was a dhampyr but for all I knew a headshot would be just as deadly to her as anyone else. I didn't want to find out. "Don't. Please don't do this. I told you I'll do everything you want."
"Maybe we shouldn't do this," Perkins said. "No sense in antagonizing the boy further."
"I say we show the little punk we don't screw around," Amerson said, his voice a low growl. "It'll save us time in the future."
"Mr. Case, I truly regret having to put you through this, but believe me, it'll help us all sleep better at night knowing you're fully on board." Skinner's lips curled into a self-satisfied smile.
"Stop!" I screamed.
The burly men pulled out guns and trained them on me. I didn't care. I couldn't let them do this.
"Status?" Sheriff Skinner said again.
"Subject exiting building. On approach. Green in ten seconds on your go."
The sheriff nodded.
My muscles coiled as rage coalesced into murderous intent. I would stop him. Remembering the spider balls in my pocket, I reached for them. Gripped them, and prepared to launch them. I'd probably take a bullet for this, but it was my only chance.
Sheriff Skinner pressed down the radio button to reply.
A frenzied, almost inhuman voice roared from outside, "Open up, Case! The big bad wolf is home!"
Chapter 34
Skinner released the radio button and stared at the metal door. "Who the hell is that?"
A sick feeling wormed its way up my throat, dispersing my rage. Despite the animalistic anger in the voice, I recognized the owner. Brad Nichols.
Something slammed against the door. The metal hinges groaned and two fist-sized dents formed. Mr. Perkins leapt back with a shout of dismay, his kettle belly jiggling. The two heavies in the room trained their guns on the door instead of me.
"I can smell your blood," Brad said, his voice groaning with sick anticipation. "Let! Me! In!" He slammed the door with each word. Concrete flecks sprang from the wall where it held the metal hinges. The bar across the door bent a little with each impact.
"Get over here and help me," Brad screamed at someone—probably Mortimer and Mick.
Another impact shook the wall and the cinderblocks crumbled around the edges. With a loud twang, the lock bar sprang out of the grooves holding it, whistled through the air, and embedded itself in a nearby locker.
I looked behind me and saw everyone but Principal Perkins aiming a gun at the door as it swung slowly open, warped hinges groaning with the effort. A foot lashed out. The hinges shrieked and broke. The door slammed against the lockers on the back wall. Bounced and collided with one of the benches across the room. Everyone, including me, jumped.
Brad shuffled into the room and a collective gasp rose from the assembly. Blackened veins pulsed and stood out against his pale skin. He'd apparently shed his contacts because his irises pulsed an angry glowing red. His fangs dripped dark crimson trailing down his chin and onto his shirt.
"What the hell?" I said backing away.
Mortimer and Mick walked in behind him. Mortimer's neck hung at terrible angle but he didn't seem to notice. His and Mick's marble-hued skin showed signs of dark-veined corruption.
"Help," Mortimer said in a feeble gasp. "Help."
"Shut up," Brad said, backhanding the smaller vampire across the room where he crunched into a metal shelf. Brad licked his lips and grinned at me before singing in an insanity-laced falsetto voice, "Found you, Case. Time for payback."
I didn't know who shot first, but I threw myself to the floor as all hell broke loose. Guns exploded from all sides. Brad flashed behind the lockers. Bullets sparked off the metal. Mortimer took a dozen hits to his small frame. He shuddered at each impact and collapsed on his back. Mick ducked and blurred away in the same direction Brad had gone.
Someone screamed like a girly-man. I rolled onto my back as Brad's pale black-veined hands wrenched at the head of one of the heavies. The loud crack of a snapping neck filled the air. More guns fired. Brad blurred across the room and leapt on the back of the next heavy. Sank his fangs deep into the man's neck. The stricken thug fired the gun over his shoulder, missing wildly as blood spurted from the holes in his neck. Guns clicked on empty. The sheriff and gang scrambled for more clips.
I took my chance and sped out of the wrecked door, colliding with Elyssa as she arrived from the other direction. We rolled across the grass and landed in a heap against a chain-link fence.