The Nyte Patrol

by Alex P. Berg

“Hey. Cheyev, right?” said Larry. “We met once before, I think.”

  The man turned, still fiddling with his black tie, though it looked fine to me. “Mr. Stuttgart, of Nyte Patrol. I remember.” His accent was as thick as Romanov’s. In fact, he sounded exactly like the man. “What can I do for you?”

  “We’re looking for Ivan,” said Larry. “It’s about an item he told us to procure for him.”

  “Yes, book,” said Cheyev. “How goes hunt?”

  “We’re, uh… working on it.” Larry gave me an exaggerated wink. “But we have some questions about it, and about some of the other items we’ve obtained for him.”

  Cheyev spread his thin, delicate, overly veiny hands. “I’m familiar with, ah… employer’s affairs. Please. Ask away.”

  “No offense, Cheyev,” said Larry. “But the spell will only work on Romanov.”

  “Dude.” Was Larry incapable of keeping the existence of any spell under wraps?

  “Spell?” said Cheyev. “What spell?”

  Larry looked like he’d stepped in dog crap. “I mean… You know. The spell. That we’re using to track the tome. It’ll only work with Ivan’s express approval. It’s critical we speak with him.”

  Somewhere in the distance, a bell tolled, filling the room with a haunting melody. Cheyev perked at the sound, his eyes shifting to the open door. “I see. Well, I am terribly sorry, but Mr. Romanov isn’t available at moment. Perhaps another time. Now if you excuse me, I have pressing matter to attend to. You can see yourselves out, I am sure. Do svidaniya.”

  22

  Cheyev walked briskly to the door, then flickered and disappeared. It was a little disconcerting, but not as much as Larry’s idiocy.

  “Nice save, Larry,” I said. “You play a lot of hockey growing up?”

  “Sorry,” he said. “I’m not used to being all cloak and dagger. Like I said, I’ve always played it straight with Romanov. He’s always come across as a stand up guy.”

  “Yes, I’m sure the Russian oligarch head of a mysterious vampire academy with a penchant for ancient objects of power is a veritable saint.”

  The bell continued to toll as we exited the study and headed down the stairs, its ringing filling the corridors. Not a soul bumped into us, and even the whistling moan seemed to have fled the halls.

  “So, are we going to ignore the bell, too?” I asked as we approached the entrance hall. “Just like how nobody batted an eye at this place being called Goatboil?”

  “To be fair, Lexie,” said Dawn, “all supernatural and wizarding academies have bizarre names. I mean, Miss Marglecluck’s Institute for Witchcraft and Wizardry? Quacknog’s College for Paranormal Pedagogy? Come on.”

  “Yeah, I’ve never heard of either of those,” I said.

  Larry paused in the middle of the corridor. “You know, she makes a good point about the bell. It is ominous, and I never heard it on any of my prior visits.”

  “And it’s kind of weird that Cheyev had to dart off like that,” said Dawn.

  “And that Romanov is nowhere to be seen,” said Larry.

  “And that the halls are suddenly empty,” said Tank.

  I glanced from one member of the trio to the next. “So you’re saying we should investigate it.”

  “I’m not saying that at all,” said Larry. “We’re paid to deliver magical items, not to snoop.”

  “Oh, for crying out loud,” I said. “We’re here to get the scoop on Romanov, aren’t we? Then I’m pretty sure we need to figure out what’s up with the haunting bell that cleared the mansion. Come on. I’ll lead the way.”

  I followed the sound toward what I presumed was the back of the house, cracking a door onto the estate grounds. The sound rang clearer through the crisp night air as I led our team down a gravel path lined with neatly manicured shrubs and oversized junipers, but I quickly realized that despite the sound being clearer, it wasn’t particularly directional. I had a general sense of the ringing originating away from the house rather than close to it, so I followed the path, picking directions at random when it forked, and hoped Larry, Dawn, and Tank didn’t call me out on my choices.

  As we reached a dead end with a marble statue of a cherub circled by trees, I realized the jig was up. It also didn’t help that the ringing abruptly stopped, fading from the air like a bad dream.

  “Um. Yeah…” I said.

  Larry held up a finger. “Hold on. Do you hear that?”

  Come to think of it, silence hadn’t replaced the bell’s ringing. Instead, a soft hum filled the air. A chanting of sorts.

  Larry pointed toward the trees. “It’s coming from there.”

  He pushed his way into the forest, past the edge of the trees and down a shallow escarpment. Dawn, Tank, and I followed him down the gentle slope before stopping at the edge of another treeline.

  “Just to be clear, Lexie,” said Larry in a hushed voice. “When you called Romanov a saint—you meant that as sarcasm, right?”

  I gaped at the sight before me. Not at the buffet tables in front of us, decorated with glistening ice sculptures and laid out with scores of bite-sized appetizers and a massive bowl of blood red punch, but beyond that, to a throng dressed in hooded robes crowded together in a circular plaza, humming a soft indecipherable chant. Torches mounted on long poles blazed merrily at the perimeter while in the center, separated from the crowd by ten feet of solitude, a young woman in a pink blouse and torn jeans stood tied to a wooden stake. She struggled against her bonds, and though she grimaced as she did so, staring at the crowd in wide eyed fear, she didn’t scream.

  “Dear God,” I muttered. “I thought you said this was a training academy, Larry.”

  “Yeah. For vampires, not aspiring tennis players. What did you expect?”

  “Well, after what happened indoors, I was expecting the cute, socially-challenged kind of blood-suckers, not the murderous sort.”

  “Look,” said Dawn, pointing at the woman’s feet. “Those are the crystals we obtained for Romanov, aren’t they?”

  Indeed, a coral-colored set of multifaceted crystals had been carefully arranged under the woman in the shape of a five-pointed star. They glowed erratically, pulsing with a hidden energy. I presumed the flickering light was due to the power focusing magic Tank had alluded to, be it just as easily could’ve been the result of violent radioactivity.

  A pair of hooded individuals separated from the crowd and approached the young woman on both sides. The young woman’s head darted from one to the other as they closed to within striking range.

  Arms flashed, and the hoods slid down, revealing Gavin and Tristan. In the light of the torches, their skin seemed paler, their lips redder, their eyes brighter. They smiled, evil white flashes in the dark of night. The woman gasped. The glowing crystals at her feet gained in strength, and her eyes widened.

  “Jesus,” I said. “Larry, Dawn—we need to do something!”

  “Maybe if Larry hadn’t insisted I leave my swords behind…” said Dawn.

  “Or my guns,” said Tank.

  “Larry has magic,” I said. “Maybe if you cast a garlic spell, or summon a shower of holy water—”

  It was too late. The two vampires dove onto the young woman, teeth flashing and tongues flicking. Gavin pressed his mouth against her neck, and Tristan began tearing at her clothes with superhuman speed and strength. The crystals flashed, bright pink in color now, and the electric murmur from the crowd intensified. Scraps of clothes flew. In moments, the young woman was naked as a newborn babe.

  I wanted to turn away, to shield my eyes from the violent murder of the poor young woman, but my eyes were riveted to the B-grade horror flick come to life. The young lady gasped and moaned. Gavin pulled back. I expected a gout of aerosolized blood to spray across the crowd, but nothing flew other than a fleck of spittle. From a distance, the woman’s neck appeared fine, if perhaps wet and red from overaggressive sucking.

  “What the…?”

  Gavin and Tristan’s arms shot back.
Their robes dropped to the ground, revealing every square inch of their chiseled bodies. They pressed into the young woman, gyrating against her with their naked bodies. Her face appeared to be one of pleasure, not pain, and the wide eyes which I’d initially thought were a byproduct of fear might as easily have indicated she was high as a kite.

  The pink crystals flared again, and bright beams of collimated light shot into the night sky, sweeping across the heavens in a coordinated rhythm. The torches at the perimeter shot gouts of flame into the air, orange and yellow and red alongside other stranger colors, too—purples and blues and greens. A thumping beat swallowed the crowd’s chanting, not of drums but of dubstep. I blinked and noticed a DJ booth at the far side of the plaza, one manned by none other than Cheyev, who’d switched out of his suit into a mesh shirt, neon green visor, and comically oversized headphones.

  I blinked. “Well, this is unexpected.”

  The music grew louder. Fog rolled in from machines hidden among the surrounding brush. The crowd threw up their hands, and all of their robes dropped to the ground. In the blink of an eye they’d transformed from a hooded mob into a naked, gyrating mass, slicked with sweat and without a shred of inhibition among them.

  “Oh god,” I said. “This is absolutely not what I expected.”

  “Really?” said Larry. “Given how Gav and Trist came on to you out front, this is exactly what I expected.”

  Dawn perked. “Hey, is that Skrillex? I love Skrillex.”

  Larry snorted. “Fine, Dawn. Go ahead. We all know what’s on your mind.”

  “I resent that,” she said. “Just because I’m a nymphomaniac doesn’t make me an exhibitionist. I like the music, that’s all. Besides, I made my opinion of those two androcentric dipsticks perfectly clear.”

  I turned away from the orgy. “Well, given all Romanov seems to be using his crystals for is creating laser light shows, I think it’s safe to get the heck out of here, which I’d suggest we do before any unwanted bodily fluids spray in our general direction.”

  “Agreed,” said Larry. “Might be worth checking out the mansion in greater detail given that everyone is otherwise occupied. Lead the way, Lexie.”

  I blinked. Had he asked me because I’d been the one who led us into the clearing, or was it a more broad reaching statement? “Yeah. About that. I think I lost track of where we are. Can anyone spot the castle from here?”

  Tank shook his head. “Should’ve brought Bill.”

  Larry pointed toward a path leading from the plaza. “Follow that. Should be safe enough. But move quick. Who knows how long this party will last—or how long the male vampires will, if you get my drift.”

  I groaned as I stepped from the woods onto the path—or tried to, anyway. Before I’d taken half a step, I caught my foot on a root and went tumbling, slamming hard against the paving stones.

  “Son of a…!” I rolled over and grasped my knee, which now sported a glistening scratch that stretched halfway down my shin.

  The dubstep kept thumping, but something rippled through the air, as if the vampire orgy had taken a collective gasp. I looked up to find the gyrating and thrusting had come to a standstill. All the vampires were looking my way—or rather, at my bloody knee.

  23

  The vampires stood frozen, staring at me in unison with wide eyes. I felt like Lindsay Lohan’s character in Mean Girls after being called to the front of the assembly hall, but the vampires weren’t eyeing me with hatred or even disdain. A few licked their lips, while others ran tongues across pearly white exposed fangs.

  Larry grimaced. “Has anyone ever told you your timing is impeccable, Lexie?”

  I winced as I stood. “What did I do?”

  “Don’t you know anything about vampires?”

  “What do I look like? An Anne Rice groupie?”

  “Your shin, girl. The scent of blood sends vampires into a frenzy.”

  As if on cue, the naked herd turned toward us, moving slowly, deliberately, with looks of absolute focus chiseled onto their faces.

  Larry shook out his arms and crouched into a defensive stance. He cast me a quick glance. “Well? What are you waiting for? Get the hell out of here. Now! I’ll hold them off.”

  “The hell you will,” said Dawn. “Lexie, stay there. You’ve got your bat, right?”

  “Dawn, I can handle this,” said Larry. “Don’t be a hero. Either of you.”

  “I’m not trying to protect you. I’m protecting Lexie.” She fixed me with a steely glare. “You’ve seen these things move. You can’t outrun them. If we split up, we die. Christ, Larry, why the hell did I listen to you and leave my swords in the truck?”

  “It was a logical move,” he said. “How was I supposed to know this trip would end in a violent dubstep orgy?”

  The vampires picked up the pace, moving toward us at a trot. Their tongues flicked, their teeth flashed, and I saw hunger in their eyes.

  Dawn leapfrogged the buffet table and ripped a carving knife and a two-pronged fork from a side of roast beef. “Tank, we could really use your special skills about now.”

  He grunted and shook his head. “I prefer guns, you know. They’re much more civilized.”

  The vampires hissed like a quiver of angry cobras and broke into a run.

  “Screw civility,” said Larry. “We need brutality!”

  I reached into my pocket for the demon tooth, but I was too slow. The vampires’ superhuman speed turned them into a blur as I wrapped my fingers around the magical weapon, and I spoke a silent prayer as I prepared to have my throat torn to ribbons.

  Larry stuck his arms out. The air rippled, and I heard a wet pop combined with a metallic ring. Vampires materialized out of thin air, bouncing off an invisible shield before us. Others were caught in the middle of it, reaching toward us in slow motion with outstretched arms.

  Dawn leapt forth and slashed one of them with her carving knife before spearing a frozen vampire in the eye with her meat fork. “What did you do?”

  “Stasis field,” said Larry as a ball of lightning grew in his hands. “It’ll only slow them. Don’t get cocky.”

  Shaking with adrenaline, I pulled my tooth from my pocket and squeezed. As it grew, I noticed something on the other side of the barrier. “Tank! He’s outside the field!”

  “He’ll be fine.” Larry chucked his ball lightning into a group of vampires stuck in the field. They shook as electricity played over their bodies.

  “Fine?” I said. “What the hell do you mean he’ll be—”

  Tank hunched over, his muscles bulging, his arms shaking, a pained grimace on his face. I was sure he’d already taken a deadly wound, but the vampires seemed to be ignoring him. Actually, it was the opposite. They were deliberately giving him a wide birth, maybe for good reason. Tank was growing.

  “Lexie, move it,” said Dawn as she forked and filleted another vampire. “The field slows them, not stops them.”

  A vampire near me stumbled and hissed, having mostly pushed through the barrier. He leapt at me, mouth wide, junk swinging in the air—god, why did every supernatural creature that tried to kill me have to be naked? Luckily, the thing’s ankle remained caught. I blasted him across the temple with my bat and his limbs turned to jelly.

  By the time I turned back to Tank, the big man had grown another four feet and added a half ton of mass. His clothes lay in tatters at his feet, but unlike the vampires, he’d grown fur to cover his nakedness. He’d also acquired an enormous snout, teeth as big as sausages, and paws the size of toaster ovens.

  “Holy shit,” I said. “Tank’s a wearbear?”

  Tank’s roar shook the trees and sent a ripple through the stasis field. He lurched forward and slammed a meaty paw into a vampire, sending him flying into the night sky, though I probably could’ve done better with my demon bat.

  “Were-Kodiak, to be precise.” Larry bundled another lightning ball among his fingers. “He gets testy when you call him a mere bear—about as testy as when he has to t
urn unexpectedly and take on a horde of angry vamps.”

  Tank bellowed again and dove into the hoard, batting vampires to the sides like bowling pins.

  I smashed another vampire over the head with my bat. “Is it the turning he hates or the vampires?”

  “Both,” said Larry, shooting lighting through the field. “Turning’s incredibly painful, and vampires are natural enemies of werebears.”

  I thought that was werewolves, but I didn’t have time to ask. Dawn jumped through the air, carving knife whistling and meat fork jabbing. “Guys, is it me, or is the stasis field getting less stasis-y?”

  Vampires crowded around us, pushing from all sides. The field flickered and whined, and I saw the same thing as Dawn. The vampires were moving faster, as if battling a strong wind rather than a wall of molasses.

  “The spell can’t handle that much supernatural counter pressure,” said Larry. “Maybe if I compartmentalize the field and use more localized targeting I can achieve a better result. I don’t know if I can cycle spells that quickly, though.”

  Dawn’s meat fork snicker-snacked. “Which means what, in practical terms?”

  “I shoot each vampire down with an individual stasis spell.”

  I pictured the sweaty, naked vampires as gatorade jugs and went to town. “Are you making this shit up as you go along?”

  “More or less.” Larry pointed at a nearby vampire, a burst of rippling air shooting from his finger. The vampire froze and keeled over. Larry did it again and again. “You get a stasis field, and you get a stasis field. Hah! I feel like Oprah!”

  “Faster, Larry,” said Dawn. “The main field is failing!”

  “I’m working on it.” Larry kept downing vampires with stasis blasts from his finger guns. Dawn and I hacked and slashed at the hungry undead trying to break through the weakening shield, but for every head I bashed and every eyeball Dawn speared, more vampires appeared. They shrieked and howled, pushing at the shield even harder in response to the fading magic.

  A vampire with a mouth the size of a grapefruit flew through the barrier. I blasted him full strength in the jaw. His head flopped to the side, but I think all I did was daze him. “Guys…?”