Eternal Samurai

by B. D. Heywood

  The big vampire smelled the new human crowding beside him—young, nervous, male. Excitement poured in warm, delicious waves from the kid’s skin. The vampire shifted his bulk and looked down at the youth ordering a drink in that unmistakable trying-to-fake-adult kind of way.

  The bull eyed his companion, the unspoken command in his eyes. The fem squirmed in beside Tatsu, rubbed her hip against his thigh. As she leaned over to pick up her drink, she mashed her breast against Tatsu’s arm and smiled when he turned toward her. She was a head shorter than Tatsu. Thin-featured, maybe mid-twenties. Her auburn hair, swept up in a French knot, revealed an elegant neck. The sophistication ended there sullied by makeup layered on to make her skin appear flush and pink. Her breasts spilled out of the low-cut, red blouse. Cheap micro-skirt and thigh-high faux-leather boots revealed nothing appealing.

  Tatsu licked his lips and pretended interest as he ogled her chest. He felt a slight revulsion at the sight of those fleshy mounds. He almost gagged at her too-flowery cologne that could not disguise her coppery vampire scent.

  “You looking for some real action, cutie?” She giggled and stared straight into those unusual jade eyes. As her tongue wet her thin lips, her gaze roamed over the kid’s gorgeous face, down the slim neck and lingered at the ripple of abs showing beneath the torn tee. Her fangs almost dropped at sight curly brown hair peeking above the half-opened fly of his pants.

  “Umm, not sure.” Tatsu faked a slight quaver in his voice, prayed it sounded convincing.

  “Sugar, we got something you can be sure about.” The fem smiled, no sign of fangs, just even white teeth in a full, redlipsticked mouth. “Don’t we Cabe?” The bull ignored her. He couldn’t take his eyes off the delicate curve of the youth’s hipbones or the flat belly between them. Hell, this kid was prettier than his fem. The vampire’s cock filled.

  Sweat slicked under the hank of hair falling over Tatsu’s forehead. His heartbeat revved up a few notches, and knew the male vampire heard it. But Tatsu’s reactions were not from fear, they were from anger. Still, he played dumb and gawky, stammering out he was looking for some real action. He looked into the red eyes of the male and pretended to sink under the vampire’s thrall. The bull’s pheromonal power was strong, a normal human would be a witless idiot. Tatsu did his best imitation of dazed and stupid.

  Tatsu suppressed his shudder when the fem hooked her hand through his elbow and guided him outside. He was aware of the bull crowding behind him. Feigning confusion, he looked up and down the street. “Um, can we get away from everyone?” He forced a dreamy tone into his voice and waved vaguely in the direction of the alley behind the club.

  The female vampire all but sang her agreement as she wrapped her arm around Tatsu’s waist. With every stride, she bumped her hip against Tatsu as she guided him into the shadows between two buildings. The bull followed, amazed at their luck in scoring such tasty prey. He smacked his lips with anticipation, and his fangs slid from their channels. He crowded behind his fem and the boy, herding them deeper into an alley that was scarcely wider than the bull’s shoulders..

  “After we feed, let’s add him in with those girls,” he growled into the fem’s ear, sure the youth was too caught up in the thrall to understand.

  The electroshock from the Agonizer short-circuited the bull’s sympathetic nervous system. He crashed face first on the wet pavement, his muscles frozen. His fangs retracted so fast they sliced through his tongue. He pissed himself and bloody saliva drooled from his mouth.

  The fem spun around with a startled squawk. At the sight of her mate on the ground, she screeched with rage. Her fangs stretched her mouth into an ugly lipstick-smeared maw. Howling with blood-rage, she launched herself at Bana. Two bolts from Passebon’s bow slammed through her breastbone and throat. The sodium fluoroacetate raced through her blood. Her convulsing body hit the ground with a meaty thud.

  Galloway tossed the katana to Tatsu who snatched it from the air and pulled it from its saya in a single fluid movement. Tatsu spun, the tip of the sword leveled toward the bull’s head.

  Bana reset the Taser and hit the vampire with another shock that sent him into spasms. The Lepers heard a sharp crack as the vampire’s vertebra snapped. The air filled with the foul stench of excrement. The Irishman kicked the semiconscious vampire over onto his back “Yer girlfriend’s now a puddle of jelly, and you’re in yer own shit. So talk.” He squatted beside the convulsing body, the Taser hovering just over the vampire’s face.

  The vampire glared up at the crouching hunter through eyes filled with hate and fear. Bana zapped him again. The bull arched off the pavement, his back bowed at a strange angle. Blood poured from his mouth where he bit through his tongue. His hate spilled out in a wet burble.

  “Doesn’t look like he wants to make polite conversation with you, Mick,” Galloway grinned. That Irishman was a piece of work. Not much longer and the bloodsucker would talk.

  Bana shocked the vampire again then dropped the Agonizer, shaking his hand. “Ach, sodding thing zapped me, piece of shit.” Bana yanked his serrated K-bar from his belt and jabbed the vampire in the crotch. “Maybe we’ll turn ya into a eunuch. Or maybe we’ll be nice and let you go with yer clackers still attached. Or maybe I’ll let me little Jap friend have a go at ya.” In voice ladened with menace, the Irishman listed each body part his “little Jap friend” would remove unless they got what they wanted.

  The vampire’s eyes jittered from Bana’s sneering mouth to Tatsu’s katana shining in the light. The terrified creature babbled out the information.

  “Let’s go. We’re done here.” Bana stepped back from the broken creature sprawled in its own waste.

  “I’m not.” The quiet menace lay thick in Tatsu’s voice. He pressed the tip of the sword against the creature’s cheek under the lower eyelid. Drew a minute, scalpel-thin line. Blood oozed.

  “We ain’t got time fer this shite, boyo.”

  Tatsu ignored his partner. With delicate precision, he moved his blade a fraction higher. “You know of a kyūketsuki, a Japanese vampire, with a scarred back?”

  The vampire dared not shake his head for fear the blade would slice his eyelid. “No, never,” he whined. “I swear.”

  “Convince me.” That deadly tip hovered above the creature’s dilated pupil. “Hurry up, my arm’s getting tired.”

  The vampire moaned his denial again and again. Truth filled those terror-widened crimson eyes. Tatsu relented and stepped back. “Now I’m done.”

  The four Lepers turned toward the street. With a roar, the vampire levered his crippled torso off the pavement and flung himself at Bana’s legs. His fangs sank into the back of the Irishman’s calf. Bana howled and twisted around, pulling out his K-bar to drive it into the bull’s neck. Before the serrated blade began its descent, Tatsu removed the vampire’s head.

  Bana jumped back, shaking his drenched leg. “Watch it, boyo. These are me new trousers!”

  Tatsu said nothing, merely cleaned the sword on the corpse’s shirt. Galloway and Passebon stared in dismay at the pitiless look on Tatsu Cobb’s face.

  The Lepers were oblivious to the observer hidden in the shadows at the far end of the alley. Arisada felt no remorse at the death of two of his kind. The mercenaries had delivered a just punishment. But that cold look in Tatsu’s face as he decapitated the rogue shocked Arisada. Tatsu Cobb was so young to be this ruthless.

  Sadly, Arisada remembered another youth as coldblooded in his ambitions. Nowaki, had that same single mindedness. And it had destroyed him.

  Wakatta, perhaps Tatsu would fulfill his blood debt. Or perhaps he might die. Only one thing was certain to Arisada—he had Tatsu in his bed if only the once.

  The four men surveyed the hotel where the girls were held. The building was a dark, boarded-up shell. No sign of life.

  “I think the bloodsucker lied to you, Mick.” Passebon muttered as he racked fresh bolts into his crossbow.

  “No one lies to me when I use Fiona on ’em.”r />
  “How do you know? This is first time you’ve tried it.” Galloway grinned and pointed with his chin in the direction of the defunct Taser shoved in Bana’s waistband.

  “Sod you, fag.”

  “No thanks, you’re not my type.” Galloway laughed.

  “If you two girls are through with your bitch fight, we’ve got to figure a way in.” Passebon’s gaze, all business, surveilled the building.

  “That fire ladder’s our best bet. ’Cept I’d lay odds it’s rusted stuck.” Galloway gave his partner a lopsided grin.

  “D’accord. It’ll make a hell of a lot of noise. They’ll know we’re here,” the Cajun grunted.

  “Shite, man, yer foul-stinkin’ French smokes has already announced us,” Bana grumbled.

  Passebon merely snorted. Just as he flicked the butt onto the wet pavement, screams of terror ripped through the air. “Merde! Les enfants.” Before the others reacted, he had covered the width of the street in two giant strides and vaulted. One hand snagged the lowest rung of the ladder at least twenty feet above the ground. With a painful screech, the rusted hinges gave way. He let his weight pull the ladder down until it locked above his upturned face.

  “Sonofabitch, Passebon, if they didn’t know we’re here, they do now.” Bana waved at the darkened building.

  The Cajun led them up the shaky ladder to the top-floor landing. They crouched before a grime-covered window. Bana drew one of his Berettas from its holster and chambered a round. His eyes glowed with anticipation. “Stay behind me kid,” he ordered. Tatsu nodded and exchanged the katana in favor of the shorter wakizashi.

  The Cajun smashed the window with the butt of his crossbow and climbed into the darkened room. Galloway slipped in beside his partner just as the door burst inward. Three vampires simultaneously tried to enter the room. They got stuck. Three bolts from Passebon’s crossbow punched into three chests. Gurgling in their own blood, the creatures fell in a tangle of limbs. Galloway put a round in each vampire’s brain.

  As junior man on the team, Tatsu went through the window last. Despite his superior eyesight, he landed on Bana who was scrambling around on his knees looking for the dropped Tazer.

  “Get off me, ya clumsy git,” Bana yelled as he shoved Tatsu back. By the time they untangled themselves, the fight was over.

  “Shite, missed it,” the Irishman snapped.

  “Tough break.” Galloway said. Passebon shrugged.

  Another scream rent the air. Passebon stepped over the dead vampire and scanned the hallway then darted across. The others followed, Tatsu still last. The Cajun shattered the opposite door with a powerful kick. Leveled his bow. Before anyone else moved, Tatsu ducked under Passebon’s arm into the pitch-black room.

  The two girls tied to filthy beds writhed in terror. Their shrieks climbed into ear-splitting levels when a man brandishing a sword charged into the room. The third girl hung in the arms of a rogue bull. Her head flopped back from a neck bent in the wrong direction. Her unseeing brown eyes met her rescuer. “Too late,” they accused.

  The huge bull, deep within his feeding frenzy, ignored the Lepers. Blood and spittle spraying from his mouth, the vampire turned toward his attackers. The creature snarled and dropped the girl.

  Tatsu sliced the wakizashi across the bull’s torso, separating fabric and flesh. The vampire’s roar turned into an unholy screech as his bowels slithered out of his slashed belly. The stench of offal and copper filled the room.

  Twin thunders from Galloway’s Colts took off the top of the vampire’s head. The vampire’s torso folded on top of the dead girl, blood and intestines spilling over them both.

  “Fuck, it stinks in here,” Passebon remarked as he stepped over the kyūketsuki’s twitching corpse. He crouched between the cots and spoke nonsense in his singsong patois until the two girls calmed down. With a quick slash of his K-bar, he cut though their bindings. Lifting one girl in his arms, he turned toward the door. “Let’s get les bébés home.”

  “Two of ’em anyway,” Galloway murmured looking down at the dead girl. “Cobb, call Cooperhayes for a clean-up.”

  Relief filled Arisada when the mercenaries escorted two of the girls from the building. The beautiful boy was unharmed. The vampire sped home, barely beating the dawn sun.

  The first pale rays of sunlight filtering through Tatsu’s window brought him no comfort as he lay on his rumpled bed, one arm covering his eyes. The images from last night’s rescue flashed strobe-like through his mind. Without thought, Tatsu had killed that bull vampire. Worse, he had slain ten vampires in as many days, creatures who at one time were human beings. Where was the honor in that kind of slaughter?

  Shivers wracked his sweat-drenched body. Sobs fought their way up from his chest only to be trapped behind his teeth, biting down on his bottom lip. Just in time, he bolted off the bed and into the bathroom. His stomach tried to turn itself inside out, his vomiting so violent his belly muscles almost tore. Bile splashed into the porcelain bowl while his tears rolled down his drawn cheeks.

  His teammates thought of him as a cold-blooded killer. It was in their faces. They knew nothing of this guilt-driven evisceration of his soul. The samurai code, ingrained in him since birth, provided no relief from the remorse now tearing him apart.

  .

  Twelve

  The staccato of automatic gunfire echoed through the vast foundry. Tatsu trotted the half-klick past the massive disused equipment to the center of the building. He’d postponed this moment for three days since he joined the Leper Colony. Couldn’t put it off any longer. He punched the code to the roll-up door that separated the firing range from the rest of the facility.

  Tatsu paused and admired Galloway’s technique. The blond dodged among the wooden pop-up targets, firing short bursts before running or rolling to the next safe spot. With split-second timing, Galloway hit every enemy dead center or held fire on a Friendly.

  The gun spent itself with an empty rattle. With a move almost too fast for Tatsu to see, the blond switched magazines. Tatsu noticed Galloway used a double-stack two clips taped back to back that allows the shooter to reload in a fraction of a second. The automatic weapon discharged with incredible recoil, yet the Leper’s arm barely moved.

  A shiver of arousal rippled over Tatsu watching the lithe, play of the blond mercenary’s muscles, the bunch and roll of his ass, the swivel of hips. Damn, no denying it, that was one gorgeous man.

  Within a few minutes, Galloway finished his run. He turned off the target program and sauntered over to Tatsu. “Konnichi wa, Ninja Boy,” he grinned.

  Tatsu hid his distaste of the nickname. The tall blond was just being friendly. “Konnichi wa, Galloway-san,” he replied.

  Galloway’s grin widened. “Learned a little Japanese for my second movie. Here, you might like this baby,” he tossed his weapon toward Tatsu.

  With barely a flick of his arm, Tatsu caught the assault rifle in mid-flight. He hefted the weapon surprised by its light weight and admired its sleek design of composite and metal.

  “Doesn’t weigh much, does it? It’s an Israeli IMI MTAR-21, nice little assault piece. Perfect for urban combat. Doubt if we’ll use them on regular assignment, but they may come in handy if things heat up.” Galloway winked at Tatsu’s reaction to the latest in urban mayhem.

  “The Pueblo Militia tried to acquire some of these. Never had any luck.”

  “Not surprised. If it weren’t for the Major’s contacts, we’d be fighting vamps with bows and arrows.”

  “Or swords.”

  “Yeah, or swords.” Galloway gave Tatsu a long stare that somehow was not at all about weapons. “Come on. Let’s get you some range time. Heard you don’t really need it but the Major knows you’re not exactly fond of guns. Wants you to be a bit more accepting of the concept, so to speak.”

  “Wakatta, I agreed to his rules. And he isn’t being unreasonable.”

  “Don’t take off your swords. Get used to doing this with ’em on. We’ll start on
the silhouettes in the first lane, move over to pop-ups later. First, I want to outfit you with a sidearm.” Galloway took back the rifle and slung it by its strap over one shoulder. “Show me your hands.”

  Puzzled, Tatsu held out his hands. Galloway held them for one sizzling moment as he rubbed his thumbs over the calluses.

  “Good, hard in all the right places.” The blond nodded his approval.

  Tatsu’s face heated. That’s not all that’s hard! He pulled his hands away, aware of his rapidly developing erection crowding his pants. Knew also that Galloway sensed it as the blond led the way over to the steel cabinets lining one wall.

  “I know you’re stronger than you look, but my Colts are too big for your hands.” He looked over the racks of guns in the cabinet then handed Tatsu a small automatic. “This should fit you better.”

  “Sig Sauer P230?” Tatsu racked back the slide, checked that it was empty before dropping out the full magazine and checking the ammunition. “Hollow points,” he grunted. This kind of bullet was designed to tumble around inside its target, shattering bone and shredding tissue.

  “Yup, stays inside what you hit. No dead bystanders. I know you don’t want it, but take it anyway or the Major will have my nuts in a wringer. Now, let’s get some range time in.”

  Three grueling hours later, Galloway called it a halt. They were both drenched in sweat and panting. The tall blond pulled cold water from a refrigerator near outside the range wall, and poured them both a glass. “You’re an excellent shot, Ninja Boy.”

  “Arigatō, Galloway-san.” Tatsu warmed at the compliment. “Still prefer my swords.” He swallowed his drink in long thirsty gulps. Realized when he placed his empty glass on the nearby table that Galloway had been studying him the entire time. Tatsu felt that embarrassing pink dust the tops of his cheeks.