And she heard a shot. It was a warning shot, one that whizzed by her head.
Either that, or the person was horrible at aiming.
But she had a gun, and so did this new arrival—also wearing one of the ridiculous capes.
“What a sweet treat you will be, the blood of such a beauty! Out vampire nation will love every sweet ounce of the blood you will provide!” he said.
“Oh, not likely,” Angela assured him. “Have you friend drop his weapon. I really hate killing people, but if I’m forced—”
“Then another of our number will step from the vault! Toss your weapon down. I can see to it that you’re not in any pain, and through you, others may live!” the leader announced.
To prove his point, yet another of the cloaked figures stepped from the vault.
But she wasn’t really outnumbered, and she knew it. She knew it because there was something beyond the bonds of the mortal world that she had and they did not.
“They’re here, they’re here, Jackson and Jaden!” Alain whispered to her.
She gave the so-called witches a sweet smile. “Really? You can make this all so much easier for me?” she asked.
Time.
She was playing for time. Because of the help she was receiving from a dead man, she knew to play it all out.
“Come, sweet beauty, come to me!” the leader said. “Come to me, and I will teach you all that can be truly beautiful!”
She took a hesitant step, hopefully making him believe she was doing as told.
“Come, come, closer . . . closer.”
Tiny step by tiny step . . .
And then, she could end all pretense. Because she heard Jackson shout out, and she saw he had slipped behind one of the armed figures just as Jaden had stepped behind the others. They had the noses of their weapons pressed to the hooded heads.
“Yeah, you got it. Drop it. Drop it now!” Jackson ordered.
With two guns at their heads and another across the tombs, the caped figures immediately did as they had been ordered.
And even as they did so, a burst of sirens could be heard in the night.
The leader began to swear; he turned to run.
“Oh, no, no, no!” Angela said, taking after him in a flash.
He was fast, but she was faster. She flew against his back, forcing him down to the ground. He tried to fight her. She used all that she had learned in the academy and slammed one elbow against his chin, almost knocking him out.
“I know who you are!” she said, shaking her head. “You’re Judd Gantry!”
“What? You can’t know—” he said, stuttering.
“Okay, you didn’t cut it in medical school, so you decided you should become a witch? Oh, come on!” Angela said, shaking her head. It was so senseless. The man was young, late twenties, maybe. Dark haired and fit and . . . he should have been able to make a life for himself!
“What are you, an idiot? Certain people need to let themselves become monsters—then they can get rid of those who need to die!” he told her. “And you think you know! You think you’re the great defender of all, even if they’re horrible! No, no, no, lady, you can’t begin to imagine just how many monsters you may not be remembering! You’re crazy, you’re crazy!”
She just shook her head again and realized Jackson was standing behind her, and the police were now flooding the cemetery. The hooded figures were all being taken into custody. She let Jackson help her up as an officer in uniform came to cuff the man she’d taken down.
“The woman on the tomb—” she began.
“EMTs are on the way,” Jackson assured her. “And that other woman Jaden is helping from the ground . . . she’s been given some kind of major hallucinatory drug, I think.”
