Tainted Blood

by Martin Sharlow

  “That ain’t gonna happen in my truck!” Bobby raged as he turned on his equally angry niece.

  “You have no right to tell me who I can see!” Her voice rose to match the old trucker, and Brian was starting to feel like he was in someone else’s nightmare.

  How did he get himself into it, though, and more importantly, how was he going to get out of it? A quick look around the area revealed the coffee shop just down the street. They were less than a block from its location, and he hoped to God that the truck’s screaming tires hadn't alerted Jason to their presence.

  “Now, you listen here!” Bobby began to rage at the girl.

  The fighting had to stop immediately, and Brian couldn't wait for them to get control of themselves. They were sitting in the middle of the street and the last thing they needed were other cars to come along and honk at them, or worse, for the police show up. Those red and blue lights would attract anyone’s attention, if nothing else did.

  Brian reached out with his will and found Bobby's and Meryl's. Both of them were swollen up and red with indignation, he could almost visualize the two of them like great Sumo wrestlers battling it out against each other, both of them pushing until the other either backed down or fell over. It was ridiculous to view.

  With just a slight nudge to both of them, he forced their wills to shrink and change colors to a soothing green.

  The entire process was almost instantaneous. The link he had with both of them from the earlier suggestion was still in place to protect them from Jason’s control, and gave him easy access. He didn't even have to look at them, which was something he had figured out just a few short weeks before. It bothered him that he had to use that control on them, but he didn't have time to argue.

  Bobby was going to kill him if he ever figured out what had just happened, but what else was he going to do? Seconds later the three climbed out of the truck, once Bobby found a convenient spot to park the rig in.

  Who’d ever heard of trying to sneak up on anyone driving a semi-truck?

  The walk to the shop was thankfully quiet. Once or twice Brian had been worried that someone might notice the shotgun Bobby barely concealed with his jacket. The whole plan seemed more and more foolhardy the closer it came to being done. Yet, what choice did he have? Heather had been in that place far too long, and it was time to take her out by force.

  Hopefully no one besides Jason would be hurt, but whatever way, Heather’s kidnapping was coming to an end. When they finally reached the place, Bobby tried the front door. Brian had intended on sneaking around the back, perhaps forcing a window open and climbing in, but he had no chance to say so.

  To his surprise, the coffee shops door was unlocked. Bobby looked back to Brian for the word to go. Brian signaled for him to wait as he pulled out one of the silver knives that he had been sharpening for the werewolf.

  The idea of cutting himself really made Brian feel a bit queasy. It really was silly that a vampire should fear seeing his own blood, but the reality was, Brian really hadn't given the cutting part too much thought. He really didn’t like the idea now that he was faced with it. Short of cutting his wrist, the only way he could come up with to get a workable amount of blood and not seriously injure himself was to slice his hand like he had always seen in movies and like Klingons did in Star Trek.

  Brian placed the sharpened silverware into the palm of his left hand so that the blade was touching the inside of it. Its cold touch felt surreal as he closed his hand around it. He was going to have to hurry up and do it quickly. Not just to stop wasting precious time, which he was conscious of doing, but to also keep himself from backing out.

  The blade bit into his flesh and stung and burned at the same time as he pulled the knife out of his hand while still gripping it tightly with his palm. He wouldn't say it felt like fire, but it sure hurt like hell. He squeezed his now dripping hand over where the barrier presumably should be, splashing as much as he could towards the door on each side of it.

  Then, he quickly wrapped his hand in a small towel that they brought for just that purpose. The desire to drink just a little of Meryl's blood and refresh himself was even stronger upon him now. He wasn't sure if it was the injury, the smell of his own blood, or her close proximity, but whatever it was, he was going to have to control it and hope that his fast healing actually worked on what he was sure was a deep cut. If not, he was going to have to feed on someone to fix it.

  “Well?” Bobby said in what amounted to a whisper for him, but sounded more like what a normal person would sound while talking normally.

  Brian held his breath as he tried to step through where he was sure it was. Nothing stopped him as he walked up next to Bobby. Apparently the bit of information his aunt had supplied actually worked. Meryl followed directly behind him, and Bobby gave him a thumb up with a smile. Brian couldn’t even begin to tell him the relief he felt that that part of the plan actually worked. He’d been afraid that if it hadn't he would be left out of the mix, or worse, be forced to call off the rescue.

  “Alright,” Brian said, “stay behind me. Remember to shoot to kill when you see Jason.”

  “What about Heather?” Bobby stopped him. “What if she's not here? Shouldn't we keep him alive?”

  Brian shook his head. He’d decided at the last minute the night before. He couldn't risk Jason getting away, or worse, using Heather as a hostage. He was sure she had to be there, anyway, after all there was nowhere else in the city shielded from him. No, the shop had to be the place, and if it wasn't...well, they would just have to cross that bridge if they came to it.

  One thing was going to happen for certain, and that was his aunt was going to owe him big time. Hopefully that meant finding Heather, too. If not, then he’d just keep looking until he found her.

  The door opened with next to no sound, and he assumed the thing must have been oiled regularly. Brian couldn't remember if the door had a buzzer or a bell on it. Either way, he didn't let it open all the way. He slipped through the partially opened door first. His enhanced vision allowing him to see the entire length of the dark room.

  He doubted either of his two companions could have seen anything. The place was quiet, and as far as he could see, there was no one guarding the room. It seemed strange that the door had been left open and unattended. That just didn't seem like the paranoid person Jason seemed to be. After a moment, Brian entered the dark room even further. He wasn't willing to let the others come in quite yet, because something about the setup said it was a trap. It was far too easy.

  Halfway through the main serving room, Brian caught scent of something.

  He paused for a second, surprised by what he found. Brian never thought of himself as one who could smell out someone or even for that matter differentiate between different perfumes or any other scent. Yet, as a vampire there was one scent he was more than familiar with, one that was unmistakable from everything else. Blood. The scent was everywhere in the room, it was almost as if someone had literally painted the rooms walls with it, and yet he failed to even slightly detect it when he first arrived. Even now there was something masking its actual presence from him. Almost as if someone didn't want him to know it was there. It was all wrong. Brian hadn't smelled this blood the last time he was there. It was new, including whatever was masking it.

  “You know, we’re very good at cleaning up a job.” A deep voice, almost like a growl rumbled through out the room. “It's what we’re trained to do. Did you know that a full team of forensic experts wouldn't find a drop of blood here after I'm done?”

  “Yet, leave it to a vampire to sniff it out.” The voice laughed. “I suppose it should be expected. You blood suckers live for it, after all.”

  Brian scanned the room for any sign of movement, and he listened for any sign of life besides the voice that taunted him from the darkness. It wasn't Jason, that was certain. He would have recognized his voice immediately. Still, after consideration, he knew that voice. He was certain of it.

&nbs
p; He had heard it before, not that long ago. Only it was different now, it sounded more...human.

  A panel in the wall across from where he stood popped out and then slid aside. A large, naked man walked out of the newly made aperture, carrying the form of a limp man over his shoulder like a rolled up carpet. Brian watched as the new arrival threw the limp figure to the floor in front of him. The man pointed at the unconscious one.

  “I really don't see what all the fuss was about this one. He put up a pathetic fight. I highly doubt he would have been able to even resist you and your team.”

  “Who are you, and why are you here?” Brian asked as he squinted his eyes, trying to see anything that brought some recognition to him. Even without any, though, he was pretty sure who was standing before him.

  “Come now, surely you’re not that dimwitted. You killed my nephew, does that ring a bell?”

  Brian put his hand on the handle of the knife he had just recently cut himself with. His body tensed as he realized this was about to become a much tougher fight than he had expected. “If you just wanted to kill me, why did you help me with Jason?” Brian asked.

  He was sure he wasn't going to like the answer, but at the moment, he needed time to think. Hopefully Bobby had brought some silver bullets, and was taking the time to change ammo. He could feel Bobby just outside the door, and he was definitely doing something out there in preparation of coming in. Brian would have focused harder on the two, except he couldn't take the chance of losing track of this werewolf. Any drop of his guard could be fatal, and this time there were no men in black to feed on if he were mortally injured.

  “Help you?” The naked man laughed. “I think not Brian, I'm not helping you.”

  “There’s Jason. Unconscious, if not dead from the looks of it. How is that not helping me?” Brian began to slowly move closer to the man as he talked, his grip on his knife tightening as he did so. If he could get just one clean thrust into the man’s chest, maybe into his heart if he were lucky, he could end all it now. If he could just keep him talking, maybe, just maybe it could work. If not, there was still Bobby who should provide enough distraction this time.

  “I'm a hunter, Brian, and in your own way, so are you. I know the frustration of having one’s prey stolen from them, especially one that has hurt you so deeply, attacking the ones you care about. Oh yes, Vampire, I can see it in your eyes, in your walk day to day. Nothing has been on your mind more than this man’s destruction, and I'm going to take it from you.” The man smiled.

  “Go ahead, you’re just making my job easier.” Brian laughed. He needed to keep him talking, he was almost close enough to rush him. He might have a chance as long as he stayed in human form if not well. “I don’t care who kills him, as long as he’s dead.”

  “Maybe so.” The man said. “You are a vampire. Perhaps I gave you too much credit and supposed one of your kind could understand family and honor.” The man’s form shifted and changed to almost three times its previous mass so quickly that Brian didn't have time to react. Evidently that part was utterly contrary to the stories.

  The newly formed werewolf bent down then, its large maw open wide enough to encompass Jason’s head. Brian’s knife sunk into the wolf with all of his strength and speed just as the beast’s jaws snapped shut and severed Jason's head from his body. The knife tore out of the wolf’s chest as Brian ripped it out and plunged it in again in an attempt to find the creature’s heart, buried somewhere in its massive barrel chest.

  The second stab was all he could manage even with his vampire enhanced speed. Before he could try another the lycanthrope smashed his fist into Brian’s chest, sending him flying backwards, and sailing into a nearby support beam. Said beam cracked loudly as he impacted it. The room swam and blurred in his sight as the sound of a shotgun rang out in the room.

  20

  Pain screamed through Brian's chest as his eyes began to clear again. The sounds of snarls and yelps filled his ears as he struggled to rise from the ground. The inside of the cafe was now a scene of chaos. Tables and chairs were smashed throughout the whole place. as three massive were-beasts snapped and struggled with each other, and kindling that had once been furniture littered the ground around their feet. The dark gray wolf Garn was on his back, biting at a brown wolf of equal size, while a black wolf snapped at the back of Garn's neck each time he raised his head to try and bite the brown one.

  Mack and Carl. The names raced across Brian's mind as he sat on the floor watching the titanic struggle unfolding before him. Blood smeared across the chest of the old gray wolf as it struggled to get off its back.

  Brian was certain that if either of the other two wolves wanted to, they could have sunk their dripping fangs into the soft areas of Garn's underbelly. That fact alone should have caused Garn to surrender in Brian's opinion, but maybe the old wolf knew they didn't intend to kill him, as he continued to fight even wounded as he was. Brian heard movement near him which caused him to look and see Bobby working his way toward him with Meryl following close behind.

  Grabbing the side of the support beam that he had just recently crashed off of, Brian attempted to pull himself up, only to drop back down to the floor as pain caused the room to blacken and spin before him.

  “Just a damn minute!” Bobby hollered as he moved faster to get to his side.

  Brian could see no reason to argue with him. His insides had screamed in pain when he had tried to stand, and even now they ached in agony as he sat there, hunched over. All that he could think was that the blow broke his ribs. What else could cause so much pain? Now how was he going to get to Heather? He had hoped to show up at her cage triumphant, like the white knight he was supposed to be. Now it was beginning to look as if the only way he was going to get to her was if Bobby helped support his weight, or maybe even carried him.

  Yeah, that was going to look impressive.

  “Where's it hurt?” Bobby asked as he knelt down in front of Brian. The smell of Bobby's blood drifted to Brian nose as he leaned forward and lifted his shirt.

  “Where doesn't it hurt?” Brian groaned.

  Bobby pushed against Brian’s chest sending shock waves of pain causing him to jerk back.

  “Thought so. You're pretty broken up inside, Kid.”

  The look in Bobby's face pretty much said it all. Things weren't going to turn out well if Brian couldn't get some blood soon. A yelp of pain rang across the room from the three werewolf’s as the fight abruptly came to a stop. The old gray wolf now lay on its back, its paws pointing straight up in the air, as the black wolf mouth engulfed the gray's throat.

  “Is it dead?” Meryl whispered at Brian’s side. A part of him hoped so, as he really couldn't deal with the old wolf at this point. In response, the black released the gray, which then quickly stood then lowered it's head in submission to the two.

  “Guess not.” Bobby said, then turned back to Brian. “I don't think you're going anywhere, Kid, except maybe the hospital.”

  Brian shook his head in frustration, tears welling up in his eyes. “We need to rescue Heather.”

  “And how do you propose to do that? You can't even walk.” Bobby said it more like a statement of fact than a question.

  “Blood.” Brian said flatly, knowing all too well what Bobby's reaction would be.

  “Now listen here!” The old man began as he stood up and took a step back. “I'm all for rescuing Heather and taking one for the cause and all, but I'm drawing a line when it comes to letting some blood sucker sink his teeth into my neck.”

  “That's the spirit,” Carl said as he walked up behind Bobby and patted him on the shoulder, causing the old man to jump. “One less blood sucker in the world can't be a bad thing.”

  “What the hell is that supposed to mean?” Bobby knocked the young man's hand away from him.

  “Just what it sounds like.” Carl gave him a wolfish smile, then turned to Brian. ”Mack says to tell you that our mutual problem is taken care of, and to let your people know
.”

  “And just how the hell is he supposed to do that if he's dead?” Bobby shot back at him as Brian watched. He could see Garn being led out of the building by Mack. The older werewolf had no rope or chains or anything that would force the lycan to do anything the other wolf wanted, and yet the older wolf just followed sheepishly behind him.

  “Not my problem.” Carl grinned at Bobby then turned and followed after the two other departing lycanthropes.