The proprietor nodded.
I hesitated. "Can I...look at the dagger?"
The proprietor opened the case and removed the dagger. He held it out to me.
I took it by the handle. I drew in a breath as my fingers wrapped around it. It seemed to belong there like no other knife I've ever held.
"Beautiful steel." I held the knife up and sighted down the blade, appreciating its clean lines. "What's the bone from?"
"Don't know," the proprietor said. "It's from an estate collection."
I stared at it for a moment longer, sucking air over my teeth. "I'll take it. But I'd like to pay for it with a different card."
"Not a problem."
He boxed up the two elaborate bowies and the folder then ran Matei's card through an attachment on his phone. He then packed the dagger—it came with a leather sheath, also beautiful in its stark simplicity—and I gave him my personal card for that one.
I walked the show before selecting one vendor and doubling back to him. He had several nice antique guns, including several cap and ball revolvers and a double action Smith and Wesson top break revolver.
"Can I look at that one?" I pointed to the Smith and Wesson.
The older man behind the table, wearing blue jeans and a burgundy polo shirt unlocked the revolver from its display and handed it to me.
"Pre-89?" I asked.
The dealer nodded.
I examined it. The finish was a little worn but otherwise it was in good shape. I pulled back the latch at the top of the frame and opened it. By pointing the muzzle at one of the overhead lights I could look up the barrel and see that it seemed to be clean.
"Thirty-Eight Smith and Wesson?" I asked, wanting the dealer to confirm what I thought was the proper ammo.
"It is."
I closed the revolver and worked the action, catching the hammer with my thumb so it didn't slam into the frame. The action seemed tight.
"Can it handle modern ammo?"
"I wouldn't risk it."
I cocked my head to the side and sighed. "I'm looking for a shooter, not a display piece."
"Ed over there can set you up. He sells black powder reloads."
I thought for a moment. Thirty Eight Smith and Wesson was not a powerful round, not in black powder. Although the bullets were a little bit larger, the round had quite a bit less energy than my usual nine millimeter. But it would be legal for me to buy and that made all the difference.
The limitations I had—a gun old enough to qualify as an antique and therefore legal for me to buy, using ammunition I could get in hollow point, and small enough to conceal—left few choices. This would have to do.
"Let's do it," I said and pulled out the company card.
A few minutes later I had the gun, tagged as a purchase at the show, and worked my way over to the ammo dealer indicated as "Ed".
I made my purchase of ammo. Strangely enough they did have black powder thirty-eight Smith and Wesson in hollow point.
Another dealer sold gun leather. I found an inexpensive general-purpose holster that would fit the revolver and ride inside my waistband.
Purchases made, I worked my way out of the show and back to the car. It was late, the sun starting to set, as I crossed the street to the parking lot.
In the car I set my gun show purchases aside and opened the bag from the home improvement store. First, two oak dowels.
Rowan was the best wood for staking vampires. It wasn't a matter of strength or hardness, it just worked better. No one knew why. Ash was next. That almost made sense since rowan had the alternate name of mountain ash. After them came oak. You needed a thicker stake to reliably immobilize a vampire with oak, but with anything else, you needed the equivalent of a sharpened baseball bat. And then I'd need a good-sized mallet to drive such a thick stake in.
The folding knife was sharp and sturdy enough to carve a point on one end of each of the dowels. Rubber bands held one dowel on the outside of each forearm, point toward the elbow. My jacket would cover them. They would be harder to drive in than my steel-tipped stakes, but they would have to do.
Next, I opened a box of ammunition. From the other bag I removed a tube of silver solder paste and used that to fill the cavities in five hollow points which I loaded into the revolver. In these old revolvers you want to carry them with an empty chamber under the hammer, otherwise a sharp blow might set it off.
The revolver went into the holster and the holster inside the waist of my skirt.
I filled the engravings on the Bowies with the silver solder. Later I would use a torch to melt it more permanently into place. Not as good as a proper silver inlay, but at least it would give me something that would work against vampires.
For now, I had one more place to go before returning to the hotel.
I had noted the location of where the police found Danny Smalls' body. While I could trust the police to do a good job investigating, they did not know to look for vampires. While I did not expect to find anything in particular, I thought there was some small chance I could find some clue that could lead me to where the vampires hid.
I found an open-air parking lot not far from the site. I did not know what the local laws were on concealed blades. I made a mental note to check that. Nevertheless, I needed to carry a sharp knife. Concealment was awkward. I managed to hang one of the bowies from my bra strap in back. My shoulders were flexible enough thanks to long hours of martial arts training that I could just reach the handle. I could not get it fast, but better there than nothing at all. The other Bowie I left in the glove compartment of the car to deal with later.
I found the site of the shooting without trouble. Remains of police tape still hung from one of the parking meters.
Blood still stained the sidewalk despite someone's hasty attempt to clean it. Boards covered the windows at street level on the buildings behind the stains.
I squatted next to one of the stains looking down at it in the light of the streetlamps. I did not know what I expected to find. I was no a trained criminal investigator. Following cheating husbands and repossessing cars, even the occasional bail jumper, was not the same thing. Nor was hunting vampires.
If Twenty-First Street was involved, then finding one of their members and leaning on him was my best bet.
I moved to where the stains indicated another body had fallen. As I squatted to examine this one, something seemed wrong.
"Hey!"
I looked up. An older man, mid-fifties, in a gray pinstriped suit stared down at me. "What are you? Some kind of ghoul?"
I stood and pulled out my wallet. I flipped it to my company ID that said in big letters "Investigator."
"Private Investigator," I said. "There are some questions about what happened here."
The man stared at my ID. Of course, my license was not valid in Indiana, but he would not know that. And there was nothing stopping me from poking my nose into anything anyone else could look at. I just could not do it for hire.
The man looked from my ID to my face, suspicion narrowed his eyes.
"Did you see what happened? Would you be willing to make a statement?" I fumbled in an inner pocket of the jacket as though reaching for a notebook or recording device.
The man stepped back and raised his hands. "I didn't see anything."
"Then if you'll let me get back to my job?"
"Oh. Right." The man veered around me, giving me a wide berth, and continued down the street.
I looked back down at the bloodstains. I chewed on my lower lip. I squatted again and looked once more. Finally it dawned on me. A spray of spots led away from the body. Arterial spurting would have made that kind of spray. No signs the body was moved, not until the blood had mostly congealed. Was this where Smalls had died? But there wasn't enough blood for that.
Before I could ponder that, every sense went alert. My head snapped up. Vampire.
I stood and did a slow pivot, searching. I could sense the presence of the vampire, but I could not f
eel direction or even distance. I could only tell that it was within a hundred yards or so.
There was little car traffic in this out-of-the-way corner and nobody stopped for longer than it took a traffic light to change. If the vampire were in one of the cars it would soon pass out of range. It didn't.
No foot traffic, not visible. That left the buildings nearby or... I looked up. The roofs. I did not see anything but then, I wouldn't. Vampires would not be so foolish as to stand silhouetted against the night sky. But one was up there, I knew it.
I started walking toward where I had parked my car, only I affected a heavy limp. If this were one of the vampires I'd fought before, and they recognized me, they would know I'd been hurt. They would not know Matei had provided blood for me nor had they been here when I had arrived or I would have felt their presence. So if the vampire thinks I'm still hurt then...
I heard the light tap of something hitting the ground behind me.
I turned and saw a human form crouched on the sidewalk. I glanced up and saw that he had made a three floor drop to land with no more noise than a human would make hopping off a fence.
I backed up a step. "Oh. You startled me."
The vampire took a step forward, saying nothing.
"What...what do you want?" I put all the fear I could muster into my voice.
That's right, I thought. See the nice, helpless, prey.
The vampire grinned, showing fangs. I let my hand fall to my waist, by my right kidney where I had the gun holstered.
"No, little Dhampyre," it said. "I don't think so. I am not here to fight."
I stopped. "What makes you think you have a choice? Are you going to just fall on my stake?"
I judged the distance between us. There were too many places he could go. Fast as I was, I could not cross the distance between us before he could turn and use his own speed. There were too many places we could go, places with people. I did not want another public fight and the ensuing bodies on my conscience.
"You have chosen the wrong side," it said. "Leave, while you still can. Or let us turn you, show you what true power is."
I shook my head. "I'm dhampyre. I can't be turned."
"So you have been told," it said. "Ask yourself if your master tells you true."
I shrugged. I did not know what the vampire's game was. Offering to turn me was a stupid ploy. Did he think that would appeal?
My hand closed on the grip of my gun. The feeble rounds and their small load of silver would slow the vampire at best. The noise would attract attention, perhaps drawing onlookers who...no, I did not want more bodies, more victims for the vampire. I let go and dropped my hand to my side.
I took a step forward as though attracted by his offer. He grinned a fangy grin at me.
"Another time, Dhampyre." And with that he was gone.
I swore. Something was wrong. I usually had no trouble getting the vampires to come to me.
First, four vampires working together had ambushed me. Then the wanton and very public slaughter, the implied threat against a political leader's family. And now one comes to taunt me and leave.
These vampires were acting very unlike the vampires I had fought before, and I did not know why.
Something told me that was something I needed to know.
CHAPTER ELEVEN
On the way back to the hotel I received a text. A quick glance at the display showed Ware's number. I pulled over to the side of the road and hit the flashers then unlocked the phone and opened the text.
*Meeting with the mayor. Pick you up tomorrow morning to continue?*
I started to text back when the phone rang. Ware again. I answered.
"Herzeg. I was just reading your text."
"Yeah," Ware said. "Turns out I was left alone for a bit right after I sent it. Have you had any further thoughts that can help find this cult?"
"I take it you can't speak freely?" I said.
"Door's open, people just outside, so we may want to make this quick."
"Okay," I said. "I encountered one of the vampires. Unfortunately, he ran before I could get close to him. Can we get together after your meeting?"
"I'd love to join you for dinner. Meet at the same restaurant?"
"Sure and..."
"One minute, somebody just brought me a courier envelope."
I waited.
"Shit." The voice sounded faint, like he'd set the phone down.
"Detective?" I asked.
"I've got to go." Again, Ware's voice was faint.
"You will sit right there and wait for the Mayor," another voice said.
"You don't understand. I..."
"Sit, detective."
"James!" I shouted.
A scraping noise, as of the phone sliding on a hard surface, then Ware spoke. "I just got a picture of my daughter. There's a red marker slash on her throat."
"What's the address?" I asked.
"Look, I can get the Captain to send..."
"To send people who aren't prepared to deal with vampires? What's the address?"
He gave the address. I punched it into the GPS. Estimated time, fifteen minutes.
"Got it," I said. "I'm on my way. I may need you to fix a few tickets later."
The humor felt flat in my own ears as I checked traffic before pulling out.
"Just get my little girl safe," Ware said. "I'll pay the fines myself if I have to."
I sped down the street.
Ware's daughter. He had a daughter. And a daughter meant a mother, a wife or lover.
I shook my head. Stupid thought to be having. An innocent threatened by vampires. That should be my only thought.
That, and killing the vampires, was my only concern.
I broke just about every traffic law on the books. The GPS estimated fifteen minutes. I made it in twelve. Sheer chance protected me from encountering any police on the way. A gamble that had been. Being stopped would have lost more time than any I gained from speed.
I knew before I reached the house that I was too late. The sense of vampire hit me as I turned down the last street.
I screeched to a halt in the street in front of the house and burst out of the car running. The door was open, and the sense of vampire was still strong. It was still here. I pulled the gun as I sprinted up the walkway.
I paused for a moment at the doorway, gun at low ready, eyes closed to give them the moment I needed to adjust to the dark. I lunged sideways into the door, hard, so that it would fly back and slam into anyone standing behind it.
I swept the room with my gaze. There, in the far corner I could see the vampire. He held a girl; quick guess was somewhere between ten and thirteen years of age. He turned to face me, holding the girl in front of him. One hand held her throat just under the jaw, the other wrapped around her waist.
The hand on the girl's throat only held, not squeezed. The girl screamed. I raised the gun, taking careful aim. I held my breath. Without a chance to sight in the gun I could not be confident to hit the vampire and not the girl.
"Put the girl down."
The vampire shifted the girl in its grip. My target area had just gotten smaller.
"I don't think so, Dhampyre."
"If the girl is harmed, you don't walk out of here." I pulled back the hammer. While I could not trust my aim, the vampire need not know that.
"I know you." the vampire opened his mouth in a fangy snarl. "If I let her go, I don't walk out of here either. We..." He looked at the girl in irritation as she continued to scream.
"Be silent." His hand tightened.
The girl's screams ceased. Her mouth still worked and she continued to struggle in his grasp.
I breathed a quick sigh of relief. He had only cut off her wind, not broken her neck. Still, that would not matter if we did not end this soon.
"We are at an impasse," he said.
I smiled. "Perhaps."
I lowered the gun.
"Perhaps," I said again. "But you don't want the girl, not
when there's much more succulent blood available."
Slowly, I squatted and set the gun on the floor.
"There is no blood so sweet as dhampyre blood." I stood. I pulled the stake from my left arm, feeling the rubber bands snap back against my skin. I tossed the stake aside.
"You'd much rather have me." I pulled free the other stake and tossed it aside. I held my arms up and to the sides.
"You fool, I can have you both." He tossed the girl aside. She hit a couch and rolled over it to land out of sight.
I could not spend any time for her. The vampire lunged in my direction.
I swung my left hand in a circle before me, knocking the vampire's grasping hand aside. I had to do this right. Vampires are stronger than I am. I turned and shifted, inside the grab of its other hand. They are faster than I am. The vampire clawed at the back of my head, trying to get a purchase in my hair. My left hand twisted, snagging the vampire's right arm at the wrist. The vampire gave up grasping at my hair and shifted his hand to my neck. I could not stop him. I had less than a second before his inexorable strength would draw me to his mouth.
My right hand drove up and forward, catching the vampire just under the jaw.
Vampires don't need to breathe. There is no point in choking them. I continued to turn, moving in the direction of his pull. I drove my hip into the vampire's gut. He bent over me. More turn, twisting at the waist. The vampire's feet flew upwards. He crashed flat on his back on the floor.
I followed him down, landing on his chest. A quick lift and swing of leg and I sat astride him. I released his wrist. I drove my left hand up under his jaw, bouncing his head off the floor.
Such a blow would leave a human dazed or unconscious. It would only give a vampire a moment's pause. But I only needed a moment. I reached back with my right hand and grabbed the hilt of the knife between my shoulder blades. I pulled it free and brought it down in a chopping swing against the vampire's throat. Blood sprayed.
The damn blade broke.
I swore. I had managed to cut deep, but the vampire's spine had defeated the cheap steel of the decorative bowie. I had seconds before the vampire regenerated enough to resume its attack.
The Unmasking (Dhampyre the Hunter Book 1) Page 8
