1305 & 1306 The Oracle & the Vampire (The 13th Floor) by Christine Rains Read Free Book Online

to be at Miller’s apartment. No one would travel through the city right now. They just had to walk three blocks.
    And three very long blocks they were. The dark seemed too dark even with the random fires. His keen eyes caught people and other things in the shadows. He steered the old woman away from them and frowned when he finally saw the store. Human greed knew no bounds.
    “There’s the store,” Kiral whispered. “Looters have broken in. Is the entrance to the apartments in the rear or on the side?”
    Harriet shook her head. “No. The door that looks like another entrance to the store leads to the stairs—”
    Her body seized with the assault of another vision. Kiral didn’t ask what it was. The crone would tell him whatever he needed to know. She motioned to the right. “Let’s go around and come down the street so we don’t cross in front of the store.”
    “There’s nothing to worry about, Grandmother.” Wishing she would move faster, Kiral ushered her across the street. He should leave her here. He could find Harriet himself now, but then what would she think of him leaving her grandmother alone outside?
    A woman screamed and leapt through the broken plate glass window. Her shrieks didn’t cease as she ran down the street.
    Kiral ignored her and darted forward. “The door’s here. What apartment does the woman live? I’ll run up—”
    He saw it too late. A hand snatched Harriet by the hair and yanked her into the shop. She screeched and kicked, raking her nails over the hand. A hand with no flesh.
    Without thought, he was suddenly beside her, and with one swipe, he beheaded her attacker. Yet the hand didn’t let her thick waves of white hair go. No blood. Not a drop came from the thing.
    “It’s not alive!” Kiral growled as he tore the opposite arm off from the shoulder and held it up. “It’s a bloody manikin!”
    A man’s cry was cut off from somewhere else in the store. The sound was one he knew too well. Death walked the streets tonight.
    Kiral pried the fingers from her hair and kicked the headless manikin into the racks. “This is a foul night to be about.”
    Rubbing her head, Harriet stood straight. “That it is. Even for those of us who belong to the night.”
    Clothes racks toppled as a pair of stiff legged manikins marched toward them with arms out-stretched. Fighting would get them nowhere. Kiral picked her up over one shoulder and raced out of the shop. The door to the apartments was slightly ajar, and he bounded up the stairs.
    So close. He could feel it.
    “What apartment?”
    The old woman gasped as she paused to catch a breath. “2C.”
    Kiral left her standing there. He needed Harriet.
    Unable to think of anything else other than her, he was in front of the door and tore it off the hinges. He tossed the door to the side. Something slammed into his stomach and pain flared through his body before he heard the telltale boom. It sounded so much like thunder.
    Fighting to keep conscious, he laid a hand on his gut. He didn’t need to breathe to live, but taking in a great whiff enhanced his keen sense of smell. Gunpowder. Someone had shot him.
    “Kiral!” Harriet stumbled down the hall and knelt beside him.
    He groaned and coughed, lips splattering with blood. His body was already pushing out the buckshots as his tongue collected the drops. He would need to feed.
    “Stay out, you bastards! I’ve already reloaded.” A woman’s shrill bark came from 2C.
    “It’s okay. I can heal you.” Harriet brushed her fingers over Kiral’s cheek. She then cleared her dry throat. “Ms. Miller. Can you hear me? We don’t mean you any harm.”
    “Eh? Who’s there?” The voice didn’t sound as menacing this time.
    “Stay here for a moment.” Harriet squeezed Kiral’s hand and stood. She crossed into the apartment and held up her hands. Kiral leaned to one side. A gray-haired woman sat in a chair with her back against the wall facing the door. “Ms. Miller, please, we