The Mercado Municipal’s back hall was a fever dream of rot and steam. The fluorescent tubes buzzed overhead. Their lights struggled through the haze of smoke that clung to the air in greasy ribbons. That part of the market was wet and warm, alive with the stench of brine and blood. The gutter under the concrete floor carried a sluggish slurry of melted ice and fish blood toward a clogged drain that burped every couple of seconds.

  Sawyer and Cormac stood between a table stacked high with shark fins. A wall hung with sagging burlap sacks of dried octopus. Ahead of them, the two suited vampires slipped out from between the curtains of hanging plastic tarp. Their leather jackets shone damp under the lights. Their hair was slicked back, eyes rimmed in the red. They stopped a handful of feet in from of Sawyer and Cormac.

  The vampire who was all neck and looked like a dropout boxer said, “I’m Rocko, this is Jinx, and you’re not getting out of here alive. Remember our names as you bleed out and die.” Jinx was a scrawny rat, the kind of guy you wouldn’t leave with your kids.

  Rocko pulled a thick wad of American hundreds from his pocket and let it dangle between his fingers. He exhaled as if bored. “We wanted to just kill you and get this party over with, but the boss says twenty grand to leave Panama. Stop sniffing around Harland Morrow. He’s only giving you one chance.”

  Sawyer didn’t blink. “We’re not leaving. Not until I reverse what he did to me.”

  Jinx barked a smoker’s laugh. Rocko joined in.

  “Reverse?” Jinx asked. “Why would anyone reverse this? You’re stronger, faster…and deadlier than any human.”

  Sawyer shot back. “To be human is to be normal. Vampires are monsters.”

  Jinx grinned. His fangs glistened under the buzzing light. “Humans are a subspecies. Monsters are the new way in this world. Get with the program.”

  Cormac took half a step forward. “Your program sucks.”

  “No deal,” Sawyer said. He readied his silver dagger.

  The smirks dropped.

  Rocko tucked the cash away. “After we kill you, I’m going to blow all this money in Panama City.”

  The steam hung in the air for a half second. Then they moved.

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  Rocko and Sawyer slammed together. They knocked over a stack of plastic tubs filled with shrimp. Pink bodies scattered across the floor. Sawyer brought his dagger up in a short arc, but Rocko caught his wrist and twisted it. Pain flared and then there was a sudden burn deep in Sawyer’s arm. It felt as if acid had been poured under the skin. He gasped and tore himself away, in shock.

  A few isles over, Cormac met Jinx in a storm of swinging fists and elbows. They crashed into a stall where whole tuna hung from steel hooks. Jinx shoved Cormac’s face into the flank of a half-butchered tuna before smashing a knee into his ribs.

  Sawyer ducked under a wild hook from Rocko. The force drove him back against a pile of crates. One toppled and spilled ice slush and sardines. The fish slid under Sawyer and Rocko’s boots and sent them skidding and crashing into a rack of crab traps. The rusted cage rattled violently as Rocko slammed Sawyer’s head into it and snarled.

  Cormac and Jinx smashed through a swinging door into the prep area. Barrels of fish heads and offal lined the walls. Jinx gripped Cormac by the back of his neck and tried to dunk him into a drainage trench of slow moving rust colored sludge. Cormac fought like hell. His boots slipped across the slick floor, but he found traction and rammed his elbow into Jinx’s gut.

  Back in the main hall between stalls, Rocko slashed his silver dagger across Sawyer’s chest. His shirt ripped open. Hot and searing pain flared where the silver blade tore his skin and burned. He staggered back, breathing hard. The panic flickered in his eyes, believing he would die. Rocko grinned wide at the sight of it. He drooled like a mad dog. It hurt like being slashed for real, and his skin didn’t regenerate, but he didn’t flare up into flames just yet.

  Cormac slashed his silver dagger across Jinx’s jaw line. The torn flesh smoked. Jinx roared and knocked over a barrel of fish guts. The slurry cascaded onto the floor and slopped over their boots.

  The fight pushed over to the live tanks.

  A lobster tank shattered as Rocko crashed into it after Sawyer body-checked him. Seawater, glass, and angry lobsters spilled onto the floor. One latched onto Rocko’s wrist. He ripped it free and hurled it at Sawyer’s head. Sawyer batted it aside with his forearm.

  Cormac drove Jinx into a support pillar hung with steel meat hooks. One punched clean through the vampire’s shoulder and pinned him like a carcass. Cormac didn’t hesitate. He buried his silver dagger into Jinx’s heart. The vampire’s scream ended in a hiss as his body transformed into a column of white ash which sprinkled down and piled onto the gore-slicked trench.

  So that was the trick…stab them in the heart.

  Rocko backed into a corner. His boots slipped on a smear of squid ink. Sawyer feinted high then dove his silver dagger down into the vampire’s chest with a grunt of effort. Rocko’s eyes went wide in surprise before his body unraveled into fine white ash which was then whisked away by the market’s ceiling fans.

  The sudden silence was jarring.

  Only the clink of knives in the front stalls and the hiss of boiling crab pots carried through.

  Sawyer wiped his blade on the hanging tarp. He grimaced as the fish slime smeared along it. “We’re never meeting here again.”

  Cormac scraped ash off his boot. “Don’t bet on it.”