Anita Blake, Vampire Hunter Colletion_ Books 11-15 - Laurell K. Hamilton [1029]
Olaf was beside Edward. He had a can of WD-40 in his hand and a torch made of rags bound to what looked like the end of a metal mop handle. There was a sharp oily smell from it all. He said in that deep voice, “I was going to go for the ordnance in the car, but the janitor’s closet was closer.”
I almost asked what he meant by ordnance, but was probably glad I didn’t know. Though maybe what they had in their car would have been quicker than what we were about to do to her. Olaf had Edward light the torch. Apparently he’d soaked it in something, because it burned clear and bright.
Claudia told the people on the far side of the room to clear a space. They parted like a curtain and left Soledad in a clear kill space. The guards formed two lines, one kneeling and one standing. They took their stances, and Edward joined them.
Claudia yelled, “Head or heart!”
Soledad leapt, not toward the double line of doors and freedom, or the firing squad, but the thinner line that led back down the hall. The guns all seemed to sound at once. That liquid leap of gold and silver crumbled to the floor. She could heal, but the initial injury was real. They fired into her until she twitched, but didn’t try to rise again.
Olaf turned so I could see the gun tucked in the back of his belt. “Cover me.”
I kept expecting my wound to catch up with me, but the adrenaline was carrying me. I’d pay for it later, but right now I felt fine. I wrapped my hand around the gun and pulled it free of the inner pants holster. I’d expected Olaf to go for something big, but it wasn’t. It was an H & K USP Compact. I’d looked at one before I settled on the Kahr. I clasped it in a two-handed grip and aimed it at the fallen weretiger. “Ready when you are,” I said.
Olaf glided into the circle with his torch and his squeezy can of accelerant. I didn’t glide, I just walked, but I was at his side when he got to her. I was at his side when he sprayed accelerant over her ruined face and chest. The world suddenly smelled thick and oily. She reacted to the liquid or the smell, reaching out at us. I shot her in the face. The gun jumped in my hands, so it was pointed at the ceiling before it came back down to point at her.
“What the fuck is in this?” I asked.
He shoved the torch into the wound I’d made, and she started to scream. The smell of burning hair was strong and bitter. It began to overwhelm the scent of the accelerant. He set her afire. He covered her in the thick oily liquid and burned her. She was too hurt to do much, but she could scream, and writhe. It looked like it hurt. It smelled like burning hair, and finally, when she stopped moving, it smelled like burning meat, and oil. She made a high-pitched keening noise for a very, very long time.
Edward had moved up beside me to aim his gun with the one Olaf had loaned me. The three of us stood there while Soledad died by pieces. When she stopped moving, stopped making noise, I said, “Get an axe.” I think I actually said it in a normal voice. I could hear out of one ear at least. The one that Peter had shot beside was still out for the count. It made sound echo oddly in my head.
“What?” Edward asked.
“She heals like one of the vampires that descends from the Lover of Death.”
“I do not know this name,” Olaf said.
“Rotting vampires, she heals like one of the rotting vamps. Even sunlight isn’t a sure thing. I need an axe, and a knife, a big, sharp one.”
“You will take her head,” Olaf asked.
“Yeah, you can do the heart, if you want.”
He looked down at the body. She was human now, lying on her back, legs spread. Most of her face was gone, and her lower chest; one breast was burned and blasted away, but the other one was still pale and perky. One side of her hair, the yellow of her tiger fur, was still there. There was no face, no eyes to stare up at us. I might have been grateful for that except