Blood Trail

of, but this I know; whatever happens tonight will be for the grace of God. You will not profit from it." He swung the rifle around until it pointed at Mark. "Put down the gun and get over there with them."

    Mark opened his mouth and closed it, but no sound came out.

    "What are you going to do?" Celluci asked, voice and expression carefully neutral.

    "I don't know. But he isn't going to be a part of it."

    "You can't do this to me." Mark found his tongue. "I'm family. Your own flesh and blood."

    "Put down the gun and go over there with them." Carl knew now where he'd made his mistake, where he'd left the path the Lord had shown him. The burden was his to bear alone, he should never have shared it.

    "No." Mark shot a horrified glance at Henry, whose expression invited him to come as close as he liked. "I can't ... I won't ... you can't make me."

    Carl gestured with the rifle. "I can."

    Mark saw the death he'd been holding off approaching as Henry's smile broadened. "NO!" He swung the shotgun around at the one who drove him to it.

    Carl Biehn saw the muzzle come around and prepared to die. He couldn't, not even to save himself, shoot his only sister's only son. Into your hands, I commend my spir ...

    Cloud reacted without thinking and flung herself through the air. Her front paws hit the middle of the old man's chest and the shot sprayed harmlessly over the east wall as the two of them hit the ground together.

    Then Henry moved.

    One moment, almost ten feet between them. The next, Henry ripped the shotgun out of Mark's grasp and threw it with such force it broke through the wall of the barn. His fingers closed around the mortal's throat and tightened, blood welling around his fingertips where his nails pierced the skin.

    "No!" Celluci charged forward. "You can't!"

    "I'm not going to," Henry said quietly. And he backed his burden up; one step, two. The trap snapped closed and Henry released his grip.

    The arm that stopped Celluci was an impassable barrier. He couldn't move it. He couldn't get around it.

    It took a moment for the pain to penetrate through the terror. With both hands at his throat, Mark pulled his eyes from Henry's face and looked down. Soft leather deck shoes had done little to protect against the steel bite; his blood welled up thick and red. He cried out, a hoarse, strangled sound, and dropped to his knees, pushing at the hinge with nerveless fingers. Then the convulsions started. Three minutes later, he was dead.

    Henry dropped his arm.

    Mike Celluci looked from the body to Henry and said, through a mouth dry with fear. "You aren't human, are you?"

    "Not exactly, no." The two men stared at each other.

    "Are you going to kill me, too?" Celluci asked at last.

    Henry shook his head and smiled. It wasn't the smile Mark Williams took with him into death.
    It was the smile of a man who had survived for four hundred and fifty years by knowing when he could turn his back. He did so now, joining Cloud and Stuart beside Storm's body.

    Now what? Celluci wondered. Do I just go away and forget all this happened? Do I deal with the body? What? Technically, he'd just been a witness to a murder. "Hang on, if Storm's still alive, maybe ..."

    "You've seen enough death to recognize it, Detective."

    Fitzroy was right. He had seen enough death to know he saw it sprawled at his feet on the dirt floor; not even the flickering lamplight could hide it. "But why so quickly?"

    "He," Stuart snarled, "was only human." The last word sounded like a curse.

    "Jesus H. Christ, what happened?"

    Celluci whirled around, hands curling into fists, even though - or perhaps because - he recognized the voice. "What the hell are you doing here? You're stone blind in the dark!"
    Vicki ignored him.

    Colin pushed past her, into the barn, desperate to get to his brother.

    Barry moved to follow. One step, two, and the floor shifted under his foot. He felt the impact of steel teeth slamming into a leather police boot all the way up his leg. "Colin!"

    Colin stopped and half turned back toward his partner, caught in the beam of the flashlight Vicki had pulled from her purse, his face twisted with the need to be in two places at once.
    Vicki couldn't make him choose. "Go," she commanded. "I'll take care of Barry."

    He went.

    Dropping carefully to one knee, Vicki trained the light on Barry's foot. The muscles of his leg trembled where they rested against her shoulder. Tucking the flashlight securely under her chin, she