“I see it,” I said.
“The biggest sign that Considine is under the cement is this.” The Rivera slayer circled lower, nearly colliding with what looked like some kind of hose system that ran from an oxygen system into the ground. “This must be how they’re filtering his air. The siren confirmed they were ordered to make sure the pump was in working order and that it fed into the ground, but that was all they’d been told about it.”
“Here.” Peri landed his drone and tilted the cameras. “You can even see the slightly raised impression on the cement—looks like they buried him in something rectangular.”
“Gisila put him in acoffin,” I said, my anger burning at my chest.
“Yeah.” Jasper circled around behind me so he could place his hands on my shoulders and squeeze. “That dragon shifter is sick and twisted.”
“Was,” Orrin said. “She’s dead.”
The Klein slayer took her drone up, getting a view of the factory floor. “We’ve got guards incoming.”
“Pull out,” I ordered. “And prepare to clear the factory.”
“East Team,I want you coming in from here,” I said, pointing to a side door on the factory blueprint Granny had brought up on a tablet. “Which covers the last of the doors.”
“Good.” The Cooper slayer tested her rappelling harness. “With our superior numbers and training, we’ll overwhelm the guards. It’s a good plan.”
“It is,” a middle-aged Ackermann slayer agreed. “And we will follow it. However, Slayer Jade O’Neilcannotengage in battle.” His steely gaze rested on me, and he gestured at me with the slayer mask he held. “Youmustbe free to stop your vampire when the Excavation Team digs him out.”
Except it’s my stake—it would feel weird if I didn’t fight in it.
I opened my mouth to argue, but Dad shook his head.
“He’s right, Jade,” Dad said. “There’s no way a vampire—even one as powerful as Considine Maledictus—wouldn’t be mostly ravenous by this point. You are the only chance we have at getting through to him—he’s strong enough that he’ll hopefully still recognize you.”
“I don’t like that ‘hopefully’ tag,” Uncle Dennis said as he velcroed on two of the O’Neil crests Paddy and Alex were passing around—one on his left arm and one on his right. “We’re relyingon his love for her, and that he’ll recognize the O’Neil crest and will abstain from gutting us all because of it.”
“Considine isn’t going to go on a killing spree.” I exhaled and briefly shut my eyes. “But I agree it would be wisest if I’m on hand when he gets out. It will be the fastest way to assure him we’re not foes.”
“Don’t worry, lass. Handling the guards will be like shooting fish in a barrel,” Nan loudly kissed me on the cheek. “You just worry about your vampire and make sure he doesn’t kill us all.” She zipped up her tactical vest and slid a magazine of bullets into her handgun.
I tried to muster a smile for her sake, but it was taking everything I had not to bust down the factory door and go in, guns blazing.
Considine…
I took a deep breath to ground myself, and when Orrin shifted next to me, it served to remind me of the task force.
I should text Sarge. There’s going to be gunfire, and the Cloisters would probably appreciate the heads up. But first…I need to dismiss everyone.
I sucked in a breath and tried to fight off my anxiety. It had been easier discussing the infiltration plan. Closing out the discussion was more difficult, as I knew from experience that you were supposed to end on an encouraging/more personal note.
I can do this. I’ve heard Dad end mission briefings for years, and Sarge does it every night, too.
I adopted an attentive stance—which was somehow easier than attempting to relax.
The slayers—who’d been murmuring to one another, trading observations about their part in the battle—fell silent.
This is important for mission cohesion, and I’ll do whatever it takes if it makes Considine even a tiny bit safer.
“I’m going to update the Cloisters by text,” I started in a voice that was too weak. I cleared my throat and pushed on. “While I’m doing that, I want all teams to move into position.” I made myself look at the slayers crowded around us. “Thank you for your cooperation and the use of your resources for this slayer stake. Please wait for the signal, and good luck in the upcoming fight.”
The sea of slayers either saluted to me or bowed their head, recognizing my leadership. Then they dispersed, snapping their slayer masks into place inside their hoods and dividing up into the assigned strike teams.
I heaved a sigh of relief, then fumbled to pull my phone out of my pocket—I’d peeled off the shattered screen protector, so it was easy to read as I typed out a short warning text to Sarge.
The slayers cleared out fast, so it was only the team that was going to storm the large shipping entrance of the factory that lingered—the team I’d be accompanying that was comprised mostly of Mom’s family and my nuclear family (my O’Neil aunts, uncles, cousins, and great aunts and great uncles were sprinkled around the other teams for leadership purposes.)
