injured leg gave way, and she collapsed in a heap on the floor. She howled with frustration and pounded the Old One’s corpse with her fists.
“Hold these.” I handed her the bottles of blood and then scooped her up in my arms like a child. I tucked Brown Robe’s sword under my arm. As I carried Juliet out of the cell, she twisted around to stare at the headless, dried-out yellow corpse that lay on the floor. Then we were down the hall, up the stairs, and breathing the frosty air of a cold March night.
6
THE ALLEY BEHIND CREATURE COMFORTS, A MONSTER BAR in the New Combat Zone, is narrow and dark, piled high with trash and reeking with the scents of urine and vomit. Not the kind of place where you want to hang out at one o’clock in the morning.
Lucky for us. I was planning to hide Juliet here until I could talk to Axel, the bar’s owner, about giving her refuge. The scarier and more deserted the alley, the better.
After we’d slipped out of the Goon Squad building, I headed straight for this alley, hugging the buildings and staying in the shadows. I was pretty sure no one had seen us. Now, I looked up and down the deserted alley. Certainly no one had followed us.
I set Juliet down gently, but her leg buckled and she collapsed on the sidewalk. She lay on her side, her face hidden by the robe’s hood.
I checked her injured leg, unwinding the blood-and-pussoaked bandage. The silver burn looked better—the blisters were gone, and taut, shiny skin covered the burned-raw places—but the gash looked worse than it had before. The stench of it made me gag, though I tried not to let Juliet see. The skin at the edges of the cut, a sickly shade of purplishgreen, was ragged, like something had been eating at the wound. This wasn’t right. Juliet should be healing. Had the Old One’s blade been poisoned? What could poison a vampire?
Juliet struggled to sit up. I slid my hands beneath her arms and lifted her to a seated position. The hood fell back as she rested her head against the brick wall. Sweat plastered her tangled hair to her face. I wouldn’t have guessed vampires could sweat—but when they did, it obviously wasn’t good.
“Juliet, I’m going to go inside and ask Axel if he’ll let you stay here.” Creature Comforts was her best hope for a hiding place. The New Combat Zone was like Boston’s version of the Wild West. Although the Goon Squad patrolled here, the Zone operated by its own rules. And nobody messed with Axel, the owner of Creature Comforts. Or if they tried to mess with him, they never tried a second time. Axel wasn’t human—seven feet tall and solidly built, he looked more like a mountain than a man. Nobody knew what he was. There was a story that when government workers came to get a blood sample to analyze his DNA and determine his species—something everyone was subjected to in the months after the plague that had created Boston’s zombies—one scowl from Axel’s shaggy brow had sent the workers scurrying away, their vials empty.
Juliet needed protection, and I couldn’t think of anyone better than Axel to give it.
Juliet was shaking her head. “Axel lets no one into his lair.”
True. I’d seen him win a standoff with the Goon Squad when they’d threatened to break down his door. Yet that was precisely why Creature Comforts was the safest place in Boston for Juliet right now.
“Let me talk to him. He likes you.” At the very least, he’d set up a cot for her in the storage room until I could come up with a plan B. I tried the back door, the one that led into Creature Comforts’ storage room. Damn. It was locked. Well, I’d look at that as more evidence of Axel’s first-rate security.
“I’m going to hide you behind some boxes here,” I said. “Just for a few minutes, while I go talk to Axel.” I couldn’t risk carrying Juliet through the bar. Business throughout the Zone had been slow lately, with the code-red restrictions on zombies and fears of the Reaper
“Hold these.” I handed her the bottles of blood and then scooped her up in my arms like a child. I tucked Brown Robe’s sword under my arm. As I carried Juliet out of the cell, she twisted around to stare at the headless, dried-out yellow corpse that lay on the floor. Then we were down the hall, up the stairs, and breathing the frosty air of a cold March night.
6
THE ALLEY BEHIND CREATURE COMFORTS, A MONSTER BAR in the New Combat Zone, is narrow and dark, piled high with trash and reeking with the scents of urine and vomit. Not the kind of place where you want to hang out at one o’clock in the morning.
Lucky for us. I was planning to hide Juliet here until I could talk to Axel, the bar’s owner, about giving her refuge. The scarier and more deserted the alley, the better.
After we’d slipped out of the Goon Squad building, I headed straight for this alley, hugging the buildings and staying in the shadows. I was pretty sure no one had seen us. Now, I looked up and down the deserted alley. Certainly no one had followed us.
I set Juliet down gently, but her leg buckled and she collapsed on the sidewalk. She lay on her side, her face hidden by the robe’s hood.
I checked her injured leg, unwinding the blood-and-pussoaked bandage. The silver burn looked better—the blisters were gone, and taut, shiny skin covered the burned-raw places—but the gash looked worse than it had before. The stench of it made me gag, though I tried not to let Juliet see. The skin at the edges of the cut, a sickly shade of purplishgreen, was ragged, like something had been eating at the wound. This wasn’t right. Juliet should be healing. Had the Old One’s blade been poisoned? What could poison a vampire?
Juliet struggled to sit up. I slid my hands beneath her arms and lifted her to a seated position. The hood fell back as she rested her head against the brick wall. Sweat plastered her tangled hair to her face. I wouldn’t have guessed vampires could sweat—but when they did, it obviously wasn’t good.
“Juliet, I’m going to go inside and ask Axel if he’ll let you stay here.” Creature Comforts was her best hope for a hiding place. The New Combat Zone was like Boston’s version of the Wild West. Although the Goon Squad patrolled here, the Zone operated by its own rules. And nobody messed with Axel, the owner of Creature Comforts. Or if they tried to mess with him, they never tried a second time. Axel wasn’t human—seven feet tall and solidly built, he looked more like a mountain than a man. Nobody knew what he was. There was a story that when government workers came to get a blood sample to analyze his DNA and determine his species—something everyone was subjected to in the months after the plague that had created Boston’s zombies—one scowl from Axel’s shaggy brow had sent the workers scurrying away, their vials empty.
Juliet needed protection, and I couldn’t think of anyone better than Axel to give it.
Juliet was shaking her head. “Axel lets no one into his lair.”
True. I’d seen him win a standoff with the Goon Squad when they’d threatened to break down his door. Yet that was precisely why Creature Comforts was the safest place in Boston for Juliet right now.
“Let me talk to him. He likes you.” At the very least, he’d set up a cot for her in the storage room until I could come up with a plan B. I tried the back door, the one that led into Creature Comforts’ storage room. Damn. It was locked. Well, I’d look at that as more evidence of Axel’s first-rate security.
“I’m going to hide you behind some boxes here,” I said. “Just for a few minutes, while I go talk to Axel.” I couldn’t risk carrying Juliet through the bar. Business throughout the Zone had been slow lately, with the code-red restrictions on zombies and fears of the Reaper
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