By David Wellington
The entire legit experiences say they're dead-extinct because the overdue ’80s, while a fed named Arkeley nailed the final vampire in a struggle that almost killed him. however the proof proves otherwise.
When a nation trooper named Caxton calls the FBI trying to find assist in the center of the evening, it really is Arkeley who will get the assignment-who else? He’s been awaiting any such name to return ultimately. certain, it's been years seeing that any symptoms of an assault, yet Arkeley is aware what most folk don’t: there's one left. In an deserted asylum she is rotting, plotting, and biding her time in a fashion that in simple terms the undead can.
Caxton is out of her league in this case and greater than a bit afraid, however the fed made it undeniable that there's just one means out. however the worst factor is the sensation that the vampires wish greater than simply her blood. they wish her for a cause, one she can’t bet; a cause her sphinxlike companion is familiar with yet won’t say; a cause she has to discover out-or die trying.
Now there are just thirteen bullets among Caxton and Arkeley and the vampires. There are just 13 bullets among us, the residing, and them, the damned.
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Additional resources for 13 Bullets
Didn’t you hear? They are coming. ” He started to go around the larger man, and Theron tensed. He could not allow the pair to leave, which meant he would have to kill the human first and deal with Ephraim, by far the more dangerous of the two, afterward. He readied himself to spring as Ephraim tried to squirm his way around the huge man. But Malachi would have none of it. He reached down and grabbed hold of Ephraim’s shoulder. The thick, corded muscles on his arm twitched as he casually tossed the smaller man back into the room.
Theron’s very existence proved that. After all, why would a forgiving Council need Enforcers? Malachi sighed, his face troubled but resolute. “We must get you out of here, Ephraim. There’s a merchant caravan going out with the first light. We can put you in a strong box so the sun will not touch you. The driver’s name is Paul. They are heading west to Lydda. ” Ephraim stood, his face brightening with renewed hope. “Thank you, Malachi. ” Theron had heard enough. “I can,” he said as he dropped from the rafters.
What in the Father's Name was going on? Malachi stepped in, ducking his head and twisting a bit to the side in order to maneuver his broad shoulders through the doorway. He wore his shoulder-length brown hair tied back with a leather thong, leaving his craggy, olive-skinned face exposed from forehead to chin, and he didn’t look pleased. He fixed his stern features squarely on the much smaller Ephraim. “Thank ‘the Father,’ Ephraim? Why would you offer thanks to a demon? ” “My apologies, my friend.