The Becoming (Anna Strong Chronicles #1)

The Becoming (Anna Strong Chronicles #1) Page 14

He's human; I feel it. One of those anti-watchers Avery warned me about? I stop fighting and let him manhandle me into the back seat of the car. I don't know what a bullet will do to me, and I'm not sure this is the time to find out. I figure my best chance to get away will be when we get to wherever it is he plans to take me. I'm willing to bet it won't be jail.

He's stopped talking. He sweeps the cap off his head and tosses it into the back seat beside me. Then he's behind the wheel. He throws me an over-the-shoulder glance through the mesh of the wire partition separating us. "Relax," he says. "We're going for a ride."

I settle back into the seat, working at the cuffs. They're standard police issue. If I had my purse, I could use my own handcuff key to free myself. Unfortunately, it's in the trunk of my car.

"Aren't you going to let me get my purse?" I ask. "It's in the car."

He ignores the request as he guides the police car back onto the road. He makes a U-turn at the first opportunity, and we're soon cruising north on Torrey Pines road. Away from downtown San Diego and jail.

"Where are you taking me?"

I may as well be talking to myself. Once again, he doesn't answer. He doesn't even act as if he's heard.

"Somewhere dark and deserted, I imagine," I continue anyway. "You'll need privacy for what you have in mind. Around here that would be what-the State Park?"

His eyes flash back in the mirror, but then he must remember-vampire-and he stops looking.

But I can see him. The streetlights cast enough illumination for me to study his face. He's younger than I am, with short-cropped blond hair and a jutting chin. "Are you even a real cop?"

That brings a smile to his full lips. "Yeah. I'm a real cop. I'm here to protect and serve. Getting rid of vermin like you is my favorite part of the job."

I think back to what Avery said. "And you get a bounty for each vampire you dust, right? How do you prove the kill? Is there a little red Dustbuster back here somewhere?"

"You're a real smart-ass, aren't you?" The blue eyes harden. "They'll find your car tomorrow morning. Your ID is inside. When it's learned that you've vanished, that will be all the confirmation I need."

"So it's only been forty-eight hours, and I've already been identified as a vampire," I say. "I'm impressed. How do you get your information?"

But he doesn't reply. In fact, the rest of the ride he remains silent, doesn't even glance back again. So I use the time to test the cuffs, twisting my wrists to see if I can slip my hands out. No dice. I try to wriggle myself down in the seat, thinking if I can maneuver my hands in front, I'll have a better chance to defend myself. But I can't do that without making it obvious what I'm up to, and then I'll lose the element of surprise.

I remain slouched, watching his eyes in the mirror. The mirror. I can see him but he can't see me. I've transformed enough to have lost my reflection. Let's see if I can make that work for me.

I've never been especially limber. I take Yoga more for the mental benefits than physical, but damned if I don't manage to get my hands under my butt, then gradually to pull one leg at a time through my handcuffed wrists. I move slowly, so slowly not even a rustle of silk gives away what I'm doing in that back seat. The cop never glances back. It's so easy, I wonder if flexibility isn't another vampire physiological anomaly.

I scoot over so that I'm sitting in the corner, close to the door. "So, how many vampire notches do you have on your gun belt?"

He doesn't answer.

I'm going to bet it's not many or I wouldn't have been able to do what I just did. I almost wish this mind thing worked with humans so I could get inside his head and tell him what a stupid asshole he really is. I'm going to enjoy springing myself on him, seeing the shocked look in those baby blues as I-

My thoughts are cut short as we take the turnoff to Torrey Pines State Park. The cop cruises by the gate with a two-finger salute to the ranger on duty. I almost yell out, knowing the dark tint of the windows in the back of the cruiser prevents the ranger from seeing that this cop is taking a civilian into the park. Not an everyday occurrence, I would think. But the cop doesn't slow down and the opportunity is gone before I can.

Just another thing I'll have to thank this idiot for when I get out of here. I wonder what a cop's blood tastes like-

Wait a minute. What am I doing? I'm just going to get away. I'm not going to linger for a midnight snack, even though he certainly deserves a little bite.

The car pulls deeper into the park. We're off the main road and through the campground, winding through the sparse forest of spectral shapes known as the Torrey Pines. These trees are frozen in perpetual static motion, bent as though buffeted by ghostly sea winds, even on a still night. It's a dark, creepy place and a feeling of foreboding settles in my bones. I've never been this far into the forest, but I hear the ocean pounding somewhere far below and know we must be coming to the end of the road. My recollection of a map of the park showed it dead ends at the cliffs. This would certainly be a private enough spot to perform whatever ghastly ritual this guy had in mind.

I sit up straighter in the seat, prepare myself for the get away. The best time to make a run for it will be the minute he opens the door, before he has time to register the fact that I have the use of my hands. I will throw my weight upon it as soon as I hear the lock release and push it hard enough to make him lose his balance. Then I'll beat it into the trees. I remember how fast Donaldson and Avery were. I can only hope that's a hereditary trait among vampires.

I compose myself. I'm immortal now, according to Avery. Kin to Lestat, and Count Dracula. Hell, maybe even a cousin of Spike-

my favorite vampire character. And he's cute, too, to boot. Buffy never treated him right. Maybe it's not an act with James Marsters. Look at those cheekbones. Maybe he really is-

You're not taking this very seriously.

The voice is so unexpected, I literally jump in the seat. "What?" I squeak before I realize that I've spoken out loud.

My eyes spring to the cop, but if he heard me, he isn't acting like it. His eyes are still on the road.

Avery?

No, not Avery. And I said, you're not taking this very seriously. What's the matter with you?

The tone is offensive. I have a short attention span , I shoot back. It's been a problem my whole life.

Well, if you don't pull yourself together, it won't be a problem much longer.

My head is reeling with this new intrusion into my thoughts. My eyes find the mirror. It's not the cop. He's staring straight ahead.

Besides, what sense would that make?

I try to probe, but nothing comes through. Who are you?

Not important. What is important is that you get your wits about you. This guy will not be alone. They never are.

Where are you? Are you here to help?

I'm not close enough to be of physical aid. You're going to have to do this on your own. Do you have a plan?

I tell him what I've come up with.

It might work. But you'll have to act quickly, and once you're free, run like hell. Don't look back. I'll be waiting for you on the road outside the park entrance.

How will I know who you are?

I'll be driving your car.

What? That's a ninety thousand dollar automobile. You'd better not-

But the car is slowing and I'm jerked out of my dimwitted retort. I must be crazy, worried about my car when there's a bunch of lunatics waiting to make sure I never drive the damned thing again.

He's right, I scold myself. Pull yourself together.

It's a good thing I do. The unfamiliar voice in my brain warned me that the cop would not be acting alone. He is right about that, too. There are three figures outlined in the car headlights as we approach. One is holding a burning torch.

Is that how they plan to kill me?

Adrenaline and rage turn my blood to fire. I watch the cop's face as he stops the car and turns in the seat to look at me. Surprise flashes, replaced by a smug contempt.

"Well, you've been busy, haven't you? But no matter. We're about to have a little bonfire. It's chilly out there, but I'm sure you'll be warm enough."

He's stalling while his pals advance on the car. Two on the left, one on the right. A little hint of fear replaces some of the anger churning my stomach. Can I take two of these guys at once? I hadn't planned on a welcoming party.

Your strength, the voice reassures me. Use your strength.

All at once, I know. Instead of waiting for them to get to the car, I turn. I brace myself against the front seat and kick at the back window as hard as I can.

Nothing.

I hear the cop yelling in my ear. He can't reach me through the wire partition. I kick out again, this time willing every ounce of strength into my legs. With a sharp crack, the window pops out. I see from the corner of my eye the two men on my left. One of them is shouting and fumbling at the door.

But I'm already vaulting out the back window, scooting over the trunk, scrambling toward the trees. I feel a rush of air and hear angry voices behind me.

Then I'm running, flying over and through the forest.

The voice said not to look back. That's no problem. I'm too afraid to look back.