Hunt the Moon

Page 22

“Then we’ll have to do it the old-fashioned way,” he told me. And before I could ask what that meant, his arm went around my waist and we were running for the side for the bridge, and then we were—
“Oh, shiiit!” I screamed, as Mircea threw us over the side just as mother’s coach thundered underneath.
Only she must have moved again, because when we landed, hard enough to rattle my teeth, it was on the top of the bus.
Mircea managed to keep his feet, but I went sprawling into a big woman clutching a little dog, which tried its best to bite my nose off. And then I was pushed backward onto the lap of an astonished-looking man, who appeared less flabbergasted by my sudden appearance than by the brief outfit I was wearing.
“What? You’ve never seen a calf before?” I demanded, as Mircea pulled me up. Only to get us almost trampled by a crowd of panicked people trying to get down the stairs.
Several managed it by falling off, several more almost did and a lot of parcels and umbrellas and hats went flying. That included someone’s bicycle, which bounced riderless off the back of the bus and continued down the street, looking oddly steady. Or at least it did until the mage’s vehicle crashed into it, sending it sailing into a storefront and then careening into us.
The bus shuddered under the impact, and most of the people who had gotten back to their feet were thrown onto their butts again. But the mages hadn’t emerged unscathed from the crash, either. The light gray horse pulling their ride broke free of its harness, neighed in terror and then took off back down the road.
So they grabbed the next convenient means of transportation.
Which happened to be ours.
It was Mircea’s turn to swear as they jumped onto the bus, knocking people aside, and, in some cases, off the side as they vaulted up the stairs and onto the roof. And then flew off it again as Mircea grabbed the backs of two seats, swung up and kicked. A couple thousand bucks’ worth of fine leather left muddy imprints on their shirts as they rocketed backward, arms flailing and bodies flying.
They landed what looked like half a block down the street, which should have ended that. But they’d no sooner hit pavement than they were back on their feet. I saw them shake their heads, dart into the crowd and kick into enhanced speed—and then I didn’t see anything else, because Mircea was dragging me toward the front of the bus. “Did they have shields?” I asked, confused, because I hadn’t seen any.
“No.”
“Then how did they—” I began, only to stagger and go down when the bus suddenly swerved dangerously.
It was racing down the road like there was no driver, which was sort of true, since I didn’t think the guy in the driver’s seat was supposed to be there. A third mage had appeared out of nowhere and knocked the real driver aside, just in time for Mircea to vault down the length of the bus and do the same to him. Only when a master vampire knocks you aside, you don’t end up on the floor.
The guy sailed off the bus, flew through the air and slammed face-first into the second story of a nearby building. Which I’d kind of expected. And then he twisted, kicked off the bricks like gravity didn’t apply to him and jumped back on the bus. Which I hadn’t.
I had a second to think that the guy looked a lot like the mage I’d last seen running a marathon inside a time bubble—tall, dark hair, red face—only that couldn’t be right. And then he lunged for Mircea, who had turned his back to grab the reins, and I decided to worry about it later. I jumped after him, yelling a warning I doubted even vampire ears could hear over the galloping horses and the creaking bus and the screaming people.
But it didn’t matter, because some of the passengers had clearly had enough. One fine-looking gent with a monocle tripped the mage with his cane, a burly-looking guy in a butcher’s apron smashed him in the face, and a couple of other men helped flip him over the side and into the street. Which all things considered, probably didn’t hurt him much.
And then he was run over by a speeding coach, which probably did.
At least, I didn’t see him vault back on board before Mircea pulled the real driver back into his seat and grabbed me. “We aren’t going to catch up to her this way,” he yelled.
I nodded, feeling a little dizzy. The Clydesdales pulling the bus were already going as fast as they could, and they weren’t bred for speed anyway. We weren’t going to catch up to Mom on a heavy bus loaded with people, and neither were the mages.
“What’s the alternative?” I yelled back.
“This!” he told me. And flung us over the side.
It happened so fast I didn’t have time to scream before we landed in a mostly empty wagon. The lack of weight was probably why it was beating the bus in the race to get the hell out of Dodge. But it wasn’t beating it by much, particularly after the driver turned around to shout at us and rammed into the next vehicle in line.
But it looked like Mircea hadn’t planned on staying long, because before I could get a breath, we were jumping onto another wagon and then into a four-wheeled cab, which had gotten close enough for him to grab the door. And then through the back, trying not to step on the occupants’ toes, and out the other side into—
Well, I guess it was a car. Except it looked more like a roofless carriage with no horses and a big stick coming out of the floorboard. It also had a huge, bulbous horn, a couple of foot pedals and a freaked-out driver who was currently dangling from the hand of a master vampire.
“You know, I could use a little more warning next time!” I told Mircea breathlessly, as he dropped the man gently into the road.
He shot me a glance. “Now you know how I feel whenever you shift.”
“I tell you when we’re about to shift!”
“When you remember.” He picked me up and deposited me in what I guess was the passenger’s seat, since it didn’t have a stick. “Fair warning: this is going to be a bumpy ride.”
Yeah, like it hadn’t been so far, I didn’t say, because my ass had no sooner touched leather than we barreled onto the sidewalk, slung around a bunch of people, clipped the side of a shop and then shot ahead.
“Are you sure you know how to operate this thing?” I demanded, trying to get my limbs sorted out.
“This is a Lutzmann. I used to own one.”
“Yeah, but did you actually drive it?”
He just raised an eyebrow and shot ahead, as I frantically searched for a seat belt. Which I didn’t find, because, apparently, they hadn’t been invented yet. Maybe because the car’s top speed appeared to be about thirty miles an hour, which sounds like nothing unless you’re in a vehicle with no sides, a high center of gravity and a stick for steering. I don’t think all four wheels were ever on the ground at the same time as we careened down a street littered with obstacles, half of them living and all of them disapproving.
But however pathetic, our speed was constant, while it looked like the horses pulling Mother’s coach were getting tired. Because a moment later I spotted them, just up ahead.
Mircea must have seen them, too, because he floored it, taking us up to maybe a whopping thirty-five. But it was lucky he had. Because a second later, red lightning lit up the night, shooting just behind us to explode against a building, blackening the bricks and taking out a window.
I whipped my neck around and saw what I’d expected—three damn mages in a coach they’d stolen somewhere. It had two horses and a lightweight body, and damned if they weren’t gaining. And it looked like they held a grudge, because a lot of the bolts blistering through the air were aimed at us.
One took out a row of streetlamps, popping them one after another as a bolt leapt from light to light to light, burning through the night right alongside us. Another hit a swinging pub sign, appropriately named the Fiery Phoenix. The Phoenix went up in smoke and then so did we, as a spell crashed into the back of the car, picking it up and sending it sailing through the air, straight at—
I screamed and grabbed Mircea, shifting us just as he grabbed me back and jumped. The result was a confusing few seconds of shifting and then flying through the air, as his jump ended up taking place on the other side of the shift. And then we landed in a heap, half in the street and half in the gutter, before rolling onto the sidewalk and a lot of unhappy pedestrians.
I barely noticed, too busy watching the car smash into the front of a church. And wedge between two of the pillars. And explode.
And then the bastard mages zipped by us, splashing us with filthy water from a ditch in the street. The one we’d already rolled through. And the next thing I knew, we were clinging to the back of their vehicle as it pelted down the road, past the remains of the little car and into a street on the right.
Mircea must have done it, moving us with that vampire speed that sometimes seemed almost as fast as shifting. Because I sure as hell hadn’t. I wasn’t up to doing much, frankly, except clinging to the leather-bound trunk on the back of the coach and trying not to puke. And then it started raining.
Of course it did.
Mircea was making some kinds of signs at me, probably afraid the mages would hear if he said anything. Which would have worked great, except that my eyes kept crossing. But I guess he must have meant I’m going to leave you for a minute to go do something insanely stupid. Because the next second, he vaulted around the side of the coach, kicked in the door and disappeared into the small, covered area.
And then things started to get interesting. At least, they did if you consider cursing and kicking and a wildly rocking coach and a spell that blew off the roof to be interesting. It wasn’t doing so much for me, but I didn’t have time to worry about it, because a fist punched through the back of the coach, almost in my face.
Since it was a left one and wasn’t wearing Mircea’s OMEGA watch, I had no compunction at all about slipping off the one shoe I hadn’t yet managed to lose and using the stiletto heel to try to sever it at the wrist. It didn’t work as well as its namesake, but it must have been a distraction, at least. Because somebody cursed and somebody grunted, and then somebody went sailing out the side of the carriage to splat against one thundering along right next to us.