"That's toward the woman," Hermes said.
"Is he aiming?" Sutton asked.
"I can't tell that," I said, "but he's stopped moving. He's still, very still."
"Sight it for me, Blake," Sutton said.
I opened my eyes and did maybe the hardest part. I had to use real, solid, visual landmarks on the house to pinpoint what the inside of my head that would never see anything solid was sensing. I fought to hold on to the feel of the vampire, as I looked with my eyes, and said, "Edge of window, five feet to my right."
"Aiming," Sutton said.
The side of the house was white siding; he needed marks. Fuck! I described a discoloration on the side of the house. "His head's in line with it."
"Can't see it," Sutton said, "my color vision at night isn't as good as yours, Blake." His voice was losing that edge of calm. You could hear the adrenaline tightening through his words; not good.
"Woman has her hands thrown up, like she sees something bad coming. What's the vamp doing, Blake?" Hermes said.
"I think he's moved closer to her."
"You think?" Hills said.
"This isn't like seeing with eyes, damn it." I reached out to the vampire a little further, like the metaphysical equivalent of standing on a ledge, and just a little farther out in space is what you need, so you stretch out your hand toward it, but it's still out of reach. You stretch a little bit farther and... anger, rage, such rage. It was like a red fire, blazing, consuming, filling my brain for a second. It was the vampire. I was feeling his emotion. "God, he's so angry," I said.
"Blake, give me something!" Sutton said.
There were no landmarks to give him. If I could have touched the vampire, maybe I could have eaten his anger like I did to Billings, but from a distance, I didn't know how to do that. I did the only thing I could think of; I dropped my shields and called the vampire. It was like I was still on that ledge, but the thing just out of reach was so important that I leaned too far, and if you lean too far, you fall. I hadn't allowed myself to drop shields like this in months. I called the dead, and I felt that vampire turn and look at me. He was too young, too weak - my necromancy could call really old shit - and he turned and looked at me, because I willed him to see me. Vampires used to kill necromancers on sight, and there was a good reason for that, because all the dead like us, respond to us at some level.
"He's looking at us," I said, "but I can't hold him like this forever."
"Give him to me, Blake," Sutton said.
"Laser-sight him for Sutton," Hill said.
I was concentrating so hard on the vampire in front of us that it took me a second to come back to myself and realize that he was right; I had a laser sight on my AR. I looked down at it as if it had just appeared in my hand.
"Can you hold concentration on the vampire and use the gun?" Hill asked.
It was a good question. I could feel the vampire motionless in the house, feel him struggle a little as I split more of my concentration between him and the reality of the gun in my hands. "We'll find out. I'll know if I lose him, and he's moving again."
But sighting for Sutton wasn't as simple as me aiming at the vampire with my gun while I was standing. That wouldn't help the prone officer aim; I needed to be in his physical space to aim right for him.
Hill said it. "You're small enough, and he's big enough; just lie across him and sight your gun down his barrel."
It was the best idea we had, so I put my body on top of the big officer where he lay on the ground. I held the vampire in my head but had to move my body more, so my concentration was less pure on the vampire. He started to struggle free of me; his rage, that I could have eaten if I'd touched him, now acted like a pry bar to work me away from him. I fought to concentrate on the inside of my head, and the outside with my body, and hold both together. Sutton was so much bigger than me that most of my body was on just his upper body when I lay down, but I couldn't get the angle I needed to aim along the long barrel.
"I can't hold the shot with you on me like this," Sutton said.
"It's not working for the spot either," I said. The vampire was struggling now; I threw a little more concentration his way and he quieted, but I couldn't keep this up forever. I had a smart idea. "Tell the woman to try to leave the room while I hold the vampire. Maybe we don't have to shoot to save her."
Hill didn't argue, just spoke into his mike. Hermes said, "She's up, and moving."
The vampire's rage flared like gasoline thrown on a fire. "Stop," I said, "stop moving her. It's pissing him off. He'll break free of me before she can exit the room."
We were back to our original idea. "Sit up," Hill said.
I tried sitting at Sutton's waist, but I was too short to reach what I needed to with my gun, so finally I ended up half-kneeling, half-sitting on Sutton's lower back and leaning over his shoulder.
"Put less weight on my shoulders if you can," Sutton said.
It was like leaning on him, and not, a careful balance of being so close, so that the heat and rhythm of him was just below me, and yet not touching too much, not putting too much weight so I didn't f**k with his hold, his aim, his sniper mojo. It took too much concentration. I leaned over his shoulder, sliding my AR down his Barrett, but not directly on top; there was too much on the bottom of the AR to make it a smooth slide.
The vampire was almost free. I fought to hold him, and hit the AR against the Barrett. "Don't do that," Sutton said in a tight voice.
"Sorry," I muttered. I called out to the vampire, threw my power into him like a spear. I felt it stagger him, but I also knew that I'd have to let him go to do the other part. Fuck. I hit him one more time; all that necromancy aimed at him staggered him, so that I think he had to grab the kitchen cabinets to stay upright, and in that split second I leaned over Sutton's body, married my gun along his as close as I could, and aimed where I knew the vampire's head would be. Sutton's point of light followed mine like a red-and-green game of tag on the side of the house. I held my red dot steady, and breathed, "There."
Sutton's green dot covered mine. I held my breath, willed my body still, even as I felt his go still underneath me. We held our breaths together, and in that moment of sinking stillness and concentration at that one bright dot, the vampire ripped himself free of me. Sutton fired, and the recoil moved him enough that I slid off, tumbling to one side. I got to my knees, sighting at the house, to find a surprisingly small hole in the white siding.
I could hear the woman screaming inside.
"Did we get him?" Hill said, almost yelling.
"Blake," Sutton said.
I reached out to the vampire, and found... "Dead, down, done."
And they accepted that. They gave the all clear, and let officers enter the house from the front, and the only confirmation they had that the vampire was dead was me and my psychic abilities. There were other police officers in St. Louis and elsewhere who didn't trust me or my abilities, but this team did. Sutton, Hermes, and Hill trusted me enough to send the rest of their team into a house with a rogue vampire, with only my say-so that it was no longer a threat.
I heard the other SWAT team members over the radio moving through the house room by room, calling "Clear" as they moved. Hill started up the yard toward the house with his gun at his shoulder. I put my AR to mine and followed Hill, because when your team moves, you move; when they put their guns to their shoulders and start into a house, you go with them. Sutton and Hermes brought up the rear, because they'd packed the Barrett up, and the four of us moved toward the house, guns up, watching for threats. Over the radios we heard, "House secure. Hostage secured... Suspect down."
There were no other bad guys in the house. The pregnant ex-wife was being taken out to the waiting ambulance. The vampire was dead. It was a good night.
Chapter Nineteen
DAWN HAD WASHED the world in soft, golden light by the time I started driving for home. I had texted before I got in the car, letting Nathaniel and Micah know that I was headed their way. I got a typed "kisses" back from Nathaniel, and a "Putting on coffee now." I'd sent "kisses" back, and started driving.
Micah's ring tone sounded. I actually had a Bluetooth earpiece; it made me feel all high-tech. "Hey, my Nimir-Raj, I'll be home in about thirty."