Page 137 of Tin God

The female vampire crashed to the deck, then popped up like she was made of rubber, only to be lassoed around the neck by Jennie, who pulled the vampire across the deck kicking and screaming before Jennie bent down, pulled the harpoon spear from the sequined vampire’s hand, and plunged it into her neck, stilling her kicking feet.

“Have you seen Paulson?” Jennie wiped away the spray of blood across her cheek before the persistent flow of rain washed it away. “My people have the decks nearly cleared, but there’s no sign of that bastard.”

“Have you found any living humans?” Ben shouted the question in the roaring wind. He held up a hand and the wind stilled.

Carwyn was focused on finding Brigid. “Ben, you need to take me to that island.”

Jennie shook her head. “We haven’t found the humans. We’re clearing the decks; then we’ll go below.”

“They could be killing them right now!” Ben shouted. “We need to get?—”

He was cut off by an explosion off the port side.

“Fuck!” Jennie ran to the railing, and her eyes went wide when she saw one of Katya’s boats go up in flames. “What the hell happened?”

Ben searched through the darkness and the smoke and saw a flash of bright red hair. “Zasha?”

Carwyn grabbed the front of Ben’s shirt and lifted him in the air. “You fly me to that boat. Right the hell now.”

ChapterThirty-Five

Tenzin walked up to the house, her feet stepping lightly on the damp cushion of needles that blanketed the perimeter of the clearing.

“You have no quarrel with her. Your fight is with me, Saraal.”

“Sida, I do not know that name.”

She stood at a distance, watching the windows for movement. For light. For any sign of life. She heard a bolt turn, and the heavy front door of the wooden house creaked open a few inches.

Nothing else moved.

“Her name is Zasha. She has nothing to do with us.”

“You know why I am here.”

“I am not my sire.”

“Your god is a jealous god,” Tenzin whispered, “visiting the sins of the fathers upon the children to the third and fourth generation.”

She pushed the door open and walked inside.

Tenzin cast her amnis into the darkness of a room that was lit only by a small fire in a stone hearth. She could sense another vampire in the room, but there was no sound. No movement. Only the fire crackling and the motes of dust floating in the red-gold light.

Red-gold like the memory of long hair splayed across a floor, mixing with dirt and bloody tears.

“I’m here.” She stood still and waited.

“Why?” The voice came from the darkness, a flat, dull intonation from a figure hidden in the periphery of her vision. “You found Paulson’s guests,” the voice said. “Is Brigid on theNautilus, wagging her finger at the naughty, naughty vampires?”

“I don’t know.” The lie came easily to her lips. “I don’t really care about them.”

A spark in the low, wooden voice. “Now you’re justtryingto make me feel special.”

Tenzin almost smiled. “I came to apologize, Zasha.”

“For killing Purev?”

“I found you because there were rumors of an Eastern wind vampire who was stealing children from the trade routes.”

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