Hellforged by Nancy Holzner

was silent, waiting for the explosion that would come when one of these two made his move.
    Then Sykes stepped back and shook his head. “No.”
    “No?” Norden’s face invented a whole new shade of purple. “Whaddaya mean, ‘no’?”
    “There’s no need. I’ve heard about this place. The bartender’s right: Nobody goes through that door. And that means no illegal vampire activity is happening in there.”
    “That door could be hiding anything, damn it!”
    “Then you break it down.” Sykes moved aside, giving Norden room for a clear run at Axel. The idea of the short, wiry norm shoving Axel out of the way, let alone knocking down the solid door, was ludicrous. Down the bar from me, someone sniggered.
    Norden looked ready to pop. If he’d been a cartoon character, he’d have steam shooting out both ears. But he said, “Aw, the hell with it”—loudly, so everyone in the bar could hear—like he’d changed his mind himself.
    “C’mon, Sykes. We’re outta here.” Norden stormed through the room. T.J. walked toward the bar carrying a tray of empty glasses. Norden stuck his foot out and tripped the zombie. Glasses flew everywhere, shattering as they hit the ground. T.J. sprawled facedown on the floor.
    He pushed himself onto his hands and knees and, from there, reared up into a kneeling position. “Hey,” he said to Norden, looking genuinely puzzled, “what’d you do that for?”
    Norden laughed nastily and went outside. Sykes helped T.J. up, gave a “What can I say?” shrug, and followed his partner. He didn’t look at Carlos or his other friends on the way out.
    T.J. fetched a broom to sweep up the broken glass. I got down from my stool and retrieved his tray, then picked up a couple of intact glasses and empty bottles. T.J. was pushing the broom near the front door when it opened. Norden came in, his head twisting over his shoulder as he said something to his partner outside.
    I don’t think T.J. tripped him on purpose. The kid didn’t seem like the vindictive type, and Norden wasn’t watching where he was going. But somehow the broom got tangled up with Norden’s feet. Norden took three faltering steps and nearly went down. But he caught himself, and when he straightened, his gun was in his hand. Pointed at T.J.
    Goons packed the exploding ammo that could take out a zombie.
    I’d never seen a zombie go pale, but T.J. did. He dropped the broom and held out his hands, palms out, like they could ward off a bullet. “Sorry, man. It was an accident, all right?”
    “You assaulted an officer of the law,” Norden said. “A human officer of the law. Do you know what that means?”
    Everyone in the bar knew what it meant. Norden could blast a hole the size of the Sumner Tunnel through T.J., with no repercussions. I glanced around the bar. All of the human customers had gone, so no one here counted as a witness. T.J. looked sick with fear.
    No one moved.
    I put down the tray and stood in front of T.J., getting between him and Norden’s gun. “He said it was an accident, Norden. No harm done.”
    Norden could kill me with impunity as easily as he could shoot T.J., but I was hoping he’d find it harder to pull the trigger when the target was unarmed and hadn’t done anything. From the look in Norden’s eyes, I couldn’t count on that. He didn’t lower the gun.
    Then, suddenly, Axel loomed between us. I didn’t know he could move that fast, almost as fast as a vampire. A second ago, he’d been behind the bar.
    “No guns,” Axel growled, his quiet monotone more menacing than a shout.
    I wasn’t going to hide behind Axel, even though there was room for three of me back there. I stepped out and stood beside him.
    Norden’s eyes shone with an ugly light. He lifted the gun and pressed it against Axel’s chest, right over his heart. Axel stood stonelike. The gun’s barrel made an indentation in his shirt.
    I gauged the distance from where we stood to the front door. Sykes was outside, waiting