Bite Me (London Undead) (9 page)

Her heart dropped down to her stomach. She dredged up a smile. “All right.”

Of course he would’ve changed his mind. He’d have lost interest in her eventually in any case.

“I’ve got a text from the pack. I’ve got to head back for a meeting and I don’t know how long it will take. I don’t want to set a time to pick you up then have to cancel later.”

Her heart popped back up into her throat.

“Could I ring you up tonight? After the meeting? And then set a time to pick you up for dinner tomorrow?”

Settle. Calm. Use words, not squees. “Course. And you’ll come in and check on your little friend as well, yeah?”

He smiled for her. Her heart did a skip and a jump.

Could a person die of a heart attack from all the cardiovascular acrobatics?

* * *

Seth meant to pull himself together on the way back to the pack’s headquarters. It’d taken a whole two blocks to wipe the stupid grin off his face. He could still smell Maisie’s scent on his hands, taste her on his lips.

Danny would’ve had too much fun ragging on him, so Seth had stopped in at a shop. By the time he stepped back out—a new coat for Maisie in hand—it was dark. The shopkeeper was eager to close up and hurry home. Seth pondered the coat as he headed back. It was warm and she obviously needed it.

Would she accept a gift from him yet?

His mobile rang in his pocket. He ignored it. It rang again. Only Danny would have called back. And only if it were urgent.

“You are going to want to get here as soon as possible.”

“I’m just down the street. Give me the highlights.”

“At least two other apartment buildings were hit last night. All abandoned. None of them should have had people in them.” The worry in Danny’s voice was nothing compared to the anxiety that struck Seth.

“Squatters.”

Maisie.

Danny rushed on, words terse. “Those buildings were owned by the same man. He’s got half a dozen more and it’s just past nightfall. He has to have something to do with it. You can bet there will be more deaths tonight... I sent the list of addresses to the entire pack.”

Seth cursed. “I’m headed back to Maisie’s clinic. I want you and one patrol to follow me as backup as soon as you can pack your kit. Send two patrols to each of the other buildings. Our most senior team goes after this man. I want him for questioning before dawn.”

“You got it.”

Seth turned on his heel and ran through the darkening evening, the coat dropped and forgotten on the curb.

Chapter Seven

“All right there, Maisie?” Mrs. Wells called as Maisie limped down the hallway. She and her two children kept residence in the small apartment on the same floor as the flat Maisie had chosen for her own.

“Fine.” Though it took effort to keep her voice upbeat. It’d been a long day at the clinic after Seth had left.

At the thought of the lanky werewolf, heat touched her cheeks. She released her left crutch, propping it against her hip, and pushed open the door to her own place. Threading her forearm back through the cuff, she grasped the handle and took her weight evenly on both crutches to get through the door, then nudging it closed with the end of one.

The apartments might be abandoned and fallen into disrepair, but the water still worked for the businesses on the lower levels. Fire wasn’t likely and definitely not the first danger she’d worry about.

Still, she stood there with an idiot grin plastered across her face as she remembered—his concern had made her happy.

It wasn’t as if there weren’t people in the world who cared about her. Not a single one of those people would have forgiven her for shooting them, though. Hell, he seemed amused by it more than anything.

Maisie shook her head and made her way to her corner, setting her back to the wall and letting herself slide slowly down. Tired didn’t cover it. His visit earlier had been a pleasant surprise though. She’d left the kitten sleeping soundly with a rounded belly full of food. After that, every time a man walked past the door of the clinic her heart had leapt. She didn’t want to admit how much she was hoping Seth would have a reason to come back.

He’d said he would.

But then, Mr. Wells had said he’d come back too.

A loud bang startled her out of her roller coaster thoughts.

It had come from downstairs, outside. What in hell could have made such a noise they’d hear it all the way upstairs.

Her first thought was that Wells might have returned, in trouble, banging on the door of the clinic to get inside and out of the night.

“Luv? Is that you?” Apparently Mrs. Wells thought the same.

Maisie struggled to her feet, keeping both crutches with her as she made for the door. There was no answer, only another loud crash, like the sound of something large hitting the front door. Hesitating, Maisie discarded one crutch and grabbed the shotgun she left by the door to her apartment.

“Don’t go down there.” She stopped Mrs. Wells as the other woman stepped out of her apartment.

Being a reasonable woman, and possessed of a fair dose of sensible fear, Mrs. Wells waited for Maisie to limp down the hallway. With a nod, Maisie stepped past her into her apartment and went to the window overlooking the front street. She peered out through the cracks, strained to see into the shadows.

Was something moving?

Mrs. Wells probably hadn’t looked out this window because it didn’t give a direct view of the front of the clinic. A person would have to lean out the window to see the clinic entrance, as it was directly below them. Nevertheless, Maisie wanted to get an idea of what was out there on the street and across in the alley shadows.

There. Darker shadows shuffled back and forth outside the light of the few unbroken streetlamps. Another bang sounded down below and she saw someone, something, fall into view.

“Aw, bleeding hell.” Maisie turned and gestured for Mrs. Wells to come back into the apartment. “It’s not the mister. Quickly now, gather up the children. We need to get them to my apartment. Now.”

Mrs. Wells began to peer out the window. “What—?”

Maisie grabbed the other woman by the arm and stared at her hard. “You do
not
want to look out there. You want to see to the children and I’ll do what I can to get you all out of the building. But you can bet we won’t be going out the front door.”

A crash cut off whatever Mrs. Wells had been about to say.

“No more time. Quick now, before it’s too late.”

Maisie hurried out of the apartment and to the stairwell.

Nothing handy there, nothing she could throw down to slow their progress. Once they found their way through the clinic and up the stairs, the zombies would be on them. The best she could do was take a few of them out to slow the others as they climbed. She desperately hoped none of them were the new sort she’d seen the night before.

“Maisie.”

Stupid git of a woman. Maisie bit back a curse. The first zombie appeared at the bottom of the curved stairwell and she couldn’t afford to turn to the woman and provide any explanations.

“Heaven help us,” Mrs. Wells whispered, backing away. Well, then, no words needed.

Maisie lifted her shotgun, leaned over the railing and took aim. Her first shot took the one she could see in the head. It toppled and from what she could hear, the ones that followed struggled to get past it on the landing.

Good.

For the next four shots, at least, she could litter the stairs with bodies. Maybe even have time to reload...

She doubted it.

What were they doing coming into the building anyway? They’d never seemed to do anything but fall on the unfortunates crossing their paths out in the open. What would possess them to come looking for prey and inside places like theirs? There were other buildings, truly abandoned, that would’ve been easier to access. Why break in through the locked clinic?

Hoping there weren’t many wouldn’t do her any good. The best she could manage was drawing all of them into the building, or at least around to the entry point they’d already made. Then she might have enough time to break past the boards over her window and send the family down the fire escape while she kept the zombies busy upstairs. If she had their attention, Mrs. Wells could slip down the street with her children and find a safer place.

Not much, but it was the best plan she could come up with on short notice.

Damn, she wished she’d had the presence of mind to ask Seth for his mobile number. A werewolf on speed dial might have been handy. Not that it would do her any good—she’d have to make it down to the clinic to use a phone in any case.

Of course, her line of thought bordered on the ridiculous.

Watching zombies make their way up the zigzag flight of stairs could do that to a girl.

She fired her last shot and hurried to her flat.

Mrs. Wells waited for her, helping her shut the door and run the shot gun through two rungs Maisie had installed across the back of the door and the wall as a makeshift way to bar it.

“The window. We need to clear away the boards and get you all on the fire escape.” Maisie kept her voice to an urgent whisper. The zombies shouldn’t be able to understand her, but shouting her plan seemed a daft thing to do all the same.

The nails holding the boards to the windows from the outside were loose and Maisie had the presence of mind to peek through the gaps to make sure no zombies waited outside before shoving the boards off the window. Careful to make as little noise as possible, she brought the boards in through the window and gestured to Mrs. Wells.

“Go. Get the children down and make a run for it.”

“But—”

An overwhelming urge burned through her to shake the woman. “I won’t make it down the fire escape before they come back out the building. Go now and I’ll keep them occupied as long as I can. Send help if you find it.”

Maisie didn’t waste time, taking the boards back to the entry way to swap them with the shotgun. It took longer than it should have to reload, but her hands were shaking. She had enough ammunition to reload it the one time and get off a few shots before she had to switch to her handguns.

Mrs. Wells might have stayed if it’d been only her, but she was a mother. She had her children out on the fire escape as the zombies reached the door.

Maisie backed away as they clawed and threw their weight against the door. Propping herself in the window sill, she spared one last look to Mrs. Wells.

“Coast is clear up and down the street. Run for it.”

Mrs. Wells gave her a nod, her lips pressed in a grim line.

Wood split with a sickening crack and Maisie focused her attention on the dead coming through the door...for her.

One shot, and the first fell in the doorway. It slowed them a fraction of a minute and she shot another. The others stumbled over the fallen. Her third shot came up lucky, the force of it blowing the zombie back into the ones behind it.

And then Mrs. Wells screamed.

Maisie shouldn’t have looked, but she did anyway. She just might be able to pick one or two off from her vantage point. When she turned in the window sill, it wasn’t to see zombies on the street below. No. It was Mrs. Wells clutching her children to her legs, pointing upward.

“Run!” Maisie screamed at the daft woman.

At the same time, a grim sort of realization settled over her. She wouldn’t be seeing Seth again, or Brian.

When the zombie leapt down, landing on the fire escape outside her window, she was ready with a hand gun and fed it a bullet at point-blank range.

“Maisie!”

She thought she heard her name.

Seth’s voice boomed from the street, distorted the same way she’d heard it when they’d first met. He was partially shifted.

Brilliant. Maybe she would see him again.

She lifted her shotgun one more time and fired the last round. Then she propped it next to her and pulled out her second handgun. Too many zombies poured into the room, despite the corpses she’d already given a final death.

Something grabbed her by the back of her shirt, yanking her arse over elbow out the window.

Pointing both guns upward, she blew a hole through the attacking zombie’s face and managed a body shot to another zombie higher up on the fire escape.

Before she could even think of struggling up to a sitting position, something heavy hit the fire escape, shaking the damaged zombie loose to fall to the street. Thanks to her unique point of view, she saw the buggers jumping from the roof. She aimed one gun at the roof and one at the window, but before she got her next shot off a snarl erupted at her shoulder.

Seth surged past her, knocking a zombie out of the air.

Adjusting the angle of her arm before she shot him again, she took out another zombie in the window. A shaky laugh bubbled up out of her throat—the tiny balcony momentarily clear of ravenous dead people.

“Are you mad, woman?” Seth snarled, turning to crouch over her.

“Likely.” She paused. “Was starting to think you wouldn’t be coming back for a second date.” To be honest, she didn’t think she’d survive the next five minutes.

Whatever he’d intended to say got cut short as a fresh batch of zombies hit the fire escape from the roof, one or two even succeeded making the jump. As he turned to deal with them, a cold hand gripped her ankle and yanked.

Cursing, she shot but didn’t catch the thing before it sank teeth into her. Pain ripped through her good leg and her hand shook as she aimed more carefully. Her shot blew off the thing’s head, but as it fell away she could see a few teeth buried in her flesh.

“Seth!” He’d been too busy tossing zombies to see. He needed to leave her and get out. “Seth, you bloody mutt! Listen, or I’ll shoot you again!”

“What?” Seth shouted the word as he turned, ripping another zombie from the window and right over the edge of the fire escape. She hoped they were all landing headfirst.

“I’m done for. I’ve been bitten. Get out while you can and I’ll cover you. There’s a family, Mrs. Wells and her children. Help them!”

He bared his teeth, long canines in his partially shifted form. His jaw and cheekbones had lifted and pulled forward, making his growl even more effective.

“I won’t leave you here.”

Seth barely noticed the scratches as a zombie clawed at his back. Maisie cursed and emptied whatever she had left in her handguns into the mass of arms and heads straining to get out the window. Before she could use her last bullet to carry out her threat, he scooped her up in his arms and leapt off the balcony.

Only one story, and he had no trouble keeping his feet as he hit the pavement. He bent his knees to take the shock and kept her carefully pressed against him.

More werewolves were on the scene as Danny arrived with backup.

“Danny!” The name came out as more of a sharp bark than a word, but the pack medic instantly responded, sprinting to him. The others came at a run to flank them.

Walking fast to get clear of the building, he ignored Maisie’s muffled protests.

“Any others in the building?” Danny asked.

Seth shook his head. “One family escaped, woman and a couple children. Send a pair of wolves to get them to safety. You need to see to Maisie,
now
. She’s been bitten.”

Danny’s face stilled. “Put her here, Seth, on the corner. Let me see.”

A brief, fierce battle warred inside his chest as he put a leash on the urge to protect his woman. Danny gave him space to decide and shouted orders to the other werewolves in the meantime. When Seth opened his arms, setting his precious Maisie down, her face had already gone pale, her skin clammy.

She shook her head. “Too long. There’s not enough time.”

The rot was taking over her leg. Blood vessels darkened under her grayed skin and the torn flesh around the bite had already turned a sickly green-black.

“We didn’t put a tourniquet on it this time.” Maisie’s voice came in a whisper and her eyelids fluttered.

“She’s got a high fever, Seth. Is she serious? This isn’t the first time?” Danny had his kit open, using forceps to remove the grisly teeth and trying to clean the infected skin. “It’s spreading faster than I ever saw it before. Her heart’s racing, accelerating the infection’s progress through her circulatory system.”

Seth’s mind raced, searching for a solution. “Her friend, Brian, he cut away the dying meat the first time.”

“And he used a tourniquet to slow the blood flow?” Danny spit out several curses of his own. “Bloody brilliant.” He moved to do the same. Even as he got the tourniquet on he shook his head. “It won’t work, Seth. It’s spread too fast.”

Something. Something about what Brian said. Werewolves were immune. The vectors of infection weren’t compatible.