Brian paused, pondering the man’s words. He truly hadn’t felt himself unleashing power. But the last time he’d been truly angry had been back in Newquay, when the vampire-bitch Cassandra had been brutally beating his soon-to-be girlfriend. As the vampiress, a being of incredible power, had rounded upon him, ready to rip him limb from limb, his rage had summoned power, enough even to stalemate her own hideous strength. So maybe, just maybe, there was something to Heimlich’s words. Still, it wouldn’t help his current situation. No amount of strength would. He had an inkling that this particular love-triangle had the shape of an Aztec pyramid, atop which hearts were ripped from unwilling chests. And he had a suspicion that the heart in question would prove to be his own. He realised, with a start, that had still been staring at Heimlich, and that the Master of Magic had probably heard his every thought.
“Correct,” Heimlich told him. “But I still say live in the moment. You never know, Gertie might surprise you.”
“Scylla said something like that. I didn’t believe it then. Don’t now. Anyway, it’s getting dark and the moon’ll be up soon. I’d best be getting off to The Lizard before any werewolf shenanigans are afoot. And I’ll be taking Scylla with me; the greater the distance I put between them two, the better. And if you need any more dating advice, ask Neil. He’s your man.”
“Duly noted. Good luck in your mission, Helsing.”
“Fuck you.”
Chapter Six:
Seal Of Disapproval
It was only a reasonably short drive from Marazion to The Lizard, that great jutting slab of granite that stuck out from Cornwall’s south shore, but to Brian, tense as he was, it seemed to last a lifetime. As they drove alongside the seemingly miles-long Navy base, just south of Helston, Brian found himself wrapped up in his own thoughts, like some kind of anxiety-burrito. Heimlich knew that Scylla was a Water Nymph? That made an already awkward situation far more awkward. He could only hope that the Master of Magic would honour his word and not tell the other Masters, especially Gertie, Scylla’s secret. All hell would break loose. He would have to play this carefully, if he wanted to continue seeing Scylla. No-one else could know what she truly was.
“You’ve been so quiet since your meeting with Heimlich,” Scylla told him, staring at him from the passenger seat of the Camaro. Suddenly, her eyes widened. “He knows I’m a Water Nymph, doesn’t he?”
“For fuck’s sake,” Brian cursed. “And now so does Neil.”
Neil’s face appeared between the two front seats as he leant forwards from the rear.
“Wait, what? You’re a Water Nymph? Why did no-one tell me? I mean, we’ve hung out and eaten pizza together! I’d have had second thoughts if I knew I could possibly be on the menu myself.”
“She’s a vegan, Neil. And it was on a need to know basis,” Brian sighed. “And you’re the last person that ever needed to know.”
“So,” Neil continued, ignoring Brian, his twinkling blue eyes now filled with excitement as they peered out from beneath his crown of immaculately gelled hair. “Can you do all sorts of supernatural tricks? Like, can you breathe underwater and stuff?”
“Of course I can,” Scylla beamed.
“Awesome. And this whole get up,” he pressed, waving his finger to encompass her pretty face and curvaceous figure. “That’s all because of your shape-shifting, right? You don’t normally look like that?”
“Nope.”
With that, she relaxed her mental control over her shape. A brief shimmer, like that of air over hot tarmac on a summer’s afternoon, and suddenly her image of a normal, beautiful woman vanished… to be replaced by the equally beautiful, if in a completely different way, shape of a Water Nymph. Her hair, once dark brown, was now green like shimmering seaweed, her skin olive, her eyes larger and nigh-pitch black. All her in and out curves, however, remained exactly the same. Thankfully, to Brian’s mind at least, her clothes weren’t part of her disguise, and therefore remained perfectly opaque, preserving her modesty.
“Wow,” Neil breathed. “I don’t know why you even bother disguising yourself. You’re still drop-dead gorgeous, even as a Nymph.”
“Thank you, Neil,” Scylla blushed.
Suddenly Neil’s eyes narrowed.
“Have you two ever… you know… whilst you’re… like this?”
“All the time,” Scylla answered, before Brian could even protest.
“Dude!” Neil exclaimed, punching Brian on the shoulder. “That’s awesome.”
“Shut up. I mean, yes it is, but you can’t tell anyone about Scylla, okay? Heimlich knows, but you can’t tell any of the other Masters. Especially Gertie.”
“Why especially her?”
Brian’s mouth shut quickly, but Scylla wasn’t possessed of as much self-control, and much to Brian’s dismay, she began to explain.
“There’s this thing.”
“There’s no thing,” Brian quickly interrupted.
“Well, I’d like there to be a thing. And I suspect Gertie would, too. But Brian doesn’t want the thing.”
Neil’s mouth dropped open.
“What the hell, mate? You’ve been given green light for a thing!”
“I don’t want the thing.”
“You bloody well do want the thing! You know what they say; you don’t look a gift thing in the mouth.”
“I refer back to my earlier statement of shut up. Gertie is a hunter of supernatural creatures and that is precisely what Scylla happens to be. If she finds out, there’ll be bloodshed. And somehow, I have an idea that the blood shed would probably be mine.”
“You don’t know that for sure.”
“So everyone keeps telling me, but it’s not worth risking it.”
“But…”
“Shut up, Neil. Christ, I don’t even know why I brought you along on this mission in the first place.”
Scylla frowned and turned back to Neil in the rear of the car.
“Why are you coming along anyway? Do you have special powers too?”
“You mean apart from my smouldering good looks and winning personality? No. But I make for good moral support.”
“Really?” drawled Brian. “You could have had me fooled. I’m surprised you even came along anyway, after the whole banshee fiasco.”
“Hey, I got a sweet watch out of the deal, didn’t I? Anyway, I’m always ready to back you up, mate. You know that. What are we hunting tonight, anyway?”
“Werewolves.”
Neil’s excited smile faded in an instant.
“Wait, so like, proper turning into a monster and howling at the moon werewolves? Like that big fucker we saw in the Bestiary?”
“Yup.”
“Oh.” Neil fidgeted for a moment. “Well, I’m not really sure how much use I’m going to be on this one.”
“The same use you were last time,” Brian remarked. “A distraction. You’re good at that.”
“Hey.”
“Plus, I’ll need someone to cover me with the Punisher. And you’re the only other person I know in real life who plays Call of Duty. Well, apart from Scylla now.”
Neil’s beaming grin returned.
“Ah. Now that sounds more like it. A bit of fifty calibre action. Just call me Rambo.”
“Dumbo, more like. Shit, missed the turn.”
Brian wrangled the protesting car all the way round the roundabout, back to the turnoff he’d just missed, before pressing the gas and launching them down the road. Flashing past, a brown sign post signalling Gweek Seal Sanctuary, but five miles ahead.
“Don’t want to be that guy,” Neil ventured. “But won’t the Seal Sanctuary be closed? It’s evening.”
“We’re gonna break in,” Brian replied.
“Then what?”
“Ask the seals for some information.”
“Come again?”
“You heard. Or more specifically, Scylla’s going to.” Brian turned to the Nymph. “You can talk to seals, right?”
“Of course,” sh
e replied with a shrug, as though that were obvious. “They don’t usually have anything interesting to say, mind. Mostly talk about fish.”
“I’m pretty certain these ones will have something more interesting to tell us.”
For several minutes they continued on their journey, Brian trying to concentrate on the manhandling the hulking American muscle car down narrow winding roads, despite the incessant back and forth between his two passengers, Neil constantly grilling Scylla on the various perks of being a supernatural creature, the Nymph only too happy to humour him. Eventually, they descended down, down and further down into a valley. And there, in the tiny little estuary village of Gweek, the Seal Sanctuary. They pulled up before the chained up gates and stared into the darkness, at the car park beyond.
“Ram it,” Neil goaded Brian.
“No.”
“Why not? Bertha’s indestructible.”
“It’s a charity, Neil. I’m not leaving them with a bill to fix their bloody gates. That money could go on… well, whatever it is seal sanctuaries need. I dunno. Fish. And… more fish.”
“Fine. Then how do you propose we get in?”
Brian switched off the engine, before climbing out, the other two following him as he strode up to the gate. He gestured for the two to get closer, before placing a hand on each of their shoulders.
“No way,” Neil breathed excitedly. “You’re gonna Blink us in?”
“Shut up, I need to concentrate. We don’t want to end up buried up to our waists in tarmac.”
“Wait… that can hap-“
An instant’s strange feeling of being in both one place and another, then suddenly a massive release of pressure, a pop in the ears, a smell of acrid smoke. And on the tongue, a peculiar taste of tin.
“-pen?” Neil blinked and looked about. “Oh. We’re in.”
Brian was already striding across the dark car park to the visitors’ centre entrance. The thick door was padlocked shut and he sniffed, before striking a strange pose, standing with his arms outstretched as though holding a massively pregnant belly. Scylla, back in her human-like form, glanced at him sidelong, one eyebrow quizzically raised.
“What are you doing? You look like you’re trying to pass a particularly stubborn shit.”
“Summoning my chi,” he grunted. “Building the strength to break the lock. It should only take me a few moments.”
The Nymph casually sauntered over to the door, reaching for the padlock with slender fingers, before snapping it as though ‘twere made of Ryvita.
“Or you could have just asked me.”
Brian straightened himself with a sigh, dropping his arms.
“Fair enough.”
The trio made their way inside, through the reception area, following the signs to the seal pools. Leaving the building and heading up a steep path through the countryside and into the Sanctuary proper, Neil gazed about, eyes darting from tree to shadowy tree.
“Think there’s any werewolves nearby?”
“Hope not,” Brian replied, keeping his eyes fixed straight ahead. “I didn’t even bring my sword.”
“Why the hell not?”
“Well firstly I didn’t think I’d have any need of it, not unless we got set upon by an angry sea-lion. Secondly, I don’t think it’d be any use anyway. These werewolf motherfuckers are supposed to be really, really tough. And did I say really? Because I mean really.”
Scylla nodded. Brian turned to her questioningly.
“Yeah, I’ve met werewolves before,” she admitted.
“Oh, well at least we’ve some experience between us. How did you beat them?”
“I didn’t,” she told him. “I ran away.”
Brian paused mid-step, face frozen.
“Wait, you ran away? But Water Nymphs are a class five monster. And obviously I mean monster in the loosest possible sense.”
“I know. I read your Welcome Pack. It makes for humorous yet surprisingly accurate reading. But Otto’s grading system seems a little vague. I mean, Cthulu’s also a class five, and there’s entire worlds of difference between me and him.”
“Cthulu…? You… wait, Cthulu?”
He made to press further, mouth opening and closing, but Scylla had already started to walk on.
“Come on, or all the seals will be asleep. They talk nonsense when they’re tired.”
Neil followed, passing by the still motionless Brian.
“What was that about Cthulu?” he asked. “She’s joking right? That thing’s not real, it’s just a meme. Right? Right…?”
Brian didn’t reply, instead merely shivering, before hurrying to catch the Nymph up. Together the three crested the long hill, passing by the seal nursery on the left, where, according to Brian’s hazy memory, the pups and the recently rescued were nursed till they were ready to be either released into the wild or to join the adults in the larger pools. And the larger pools were where they were headed. Suddenly, as they started down the hill towards the sounds of splashing and rippling water in the distance, a bright torch illuminated them.
“Oi. Who’s there? The Sanctuary is closed. You’re trespassing.”
Squinting against the blinding light, Brian made out the shape of a portly security guard, middle-aged with tired eyes and the stout belly of a man who’d rather be in the pub having a pint of Tribute than being out on patrol on a cold night that reeked of fish.
“Take him out, Brian,” Neil whispered urgently. “Blink him up into a tree or something.”
Brian smiled.
“Nah. Scylla’s got this one. Watch her do her thing.”
With a wink Brian’s way, the Nymph strode towards the guard, looking if anything more leggy and sultry than usual. Scylla that was. Not the guard.
“Evening,” she peered at his badge, “Jim. I think we’re lost. We got here this afternoon and had such fun walking about the park that I quite think the staff forgot we were here and closed up with us inside.”
“Oh,” the man replied, a gormless look on his face as his eyes scanned her pretty face and figure that had curves in all the right places. “Oh, I’m sorry to hear that. Shouldn’t have happened. Do you… do you want me to escort you back to the entrance?”
“Well,” Scylla replied, her voice lowered now to a conspiratorial whisper as she leant so close that Jim could feel her breath on his neck. “If it’s all the same with you, we were quite wondering whether we could have a wander round and look at the animals while it’s dark? You know, without all the other tourists around?”
“Well, I really shouldn’t be leaving you alone.”
“Come on, Jim,” she purred, straightening his collar gently as she gazed into his eyes. “We won’t be any trouble. Wouldn’t you rather be down the pub with your friends? It’s such a cold evening to be wandering about outside, especially for a man of your age. We’ll even lock up for you after we’re done.”
Jim paused, as though his mind was conflicted. Then suddenly he nodded, reaching for his keys and handing them over.
“Yeah, a pint sounds good. This cold gets my old bones something awful. You youths take care, and no fooling around. And if you’d just post the keys back through the letterbox when you’re done, that’d be amazing. Night.”
And with that, the man strode off up the hill, whistling merrily to himself. Neil stared at the Nymph in adoration.
“Brian, you’ve certainly got yourself a girl of many talents! Wow.”
“You don’t know the half of it,” Brian grinned, before grimacing at his own words.
True to form, Neil punched Brian on the shoulder with a lascivious grin on his face.
“I bet I don’t, you randy bastard.”
“Come on, let’s go talk to some seals.” Brian strode to Scylla, pausing and reaching out with a kiss, their first public demonstration of affection without a vampire or a dog-straining-at-the-leash Gertie as audience. “Good work.”
“I’m just glad to be of use,” she winked.
The fir
st pool loomed before them now, a vast concrete container with dirty glass sides through which, in broad daylight, seals could probably be seen swimming and frolicking in the water. As it was, being the darkest of Cornish nights, they could only be heard. And certainly smelt.
“Hold fire, a sec,” Scylla told the two, before reaching out to them both with slender fingers. As she touched him, Brian could feel a sudden thrill of icy cool wash through him. “There you go; I’ve lent you my ability to talk to sea-creatures, if only for a while.”
“You can do that?” Brian gasped.
“So I’ve been led to believe,” Scylla shrugged. “Never tried it myself. But we’ll see.”
The trio climbed up the concrete steps to the raised viewing platform at the top, before sliding their way over the partition and dropping down into the enclosure. As they straightened themselves, Neil and Brian both sniffing in distaste at the pungent reek of fish and cloudy water, Scylla seemingly, and for obvious reasons, unaffected, a shape drew near in the darkness, swimming through the water. A huge, dog-like head poked out of the depths, with whiskers on either side, and enormous puppy-dog eyes perched high atop.
“Helsing?” the seal enquired. “About fucking time. We’ve got a situation around here.”
Chapter Seven:
Fishy Business
Brian merely stared at the seal, as though his mind were unable to comprehend the fact that it had just spoke.
“I’m… I’m sorry?” he ventured.
“You heard. There’s beasts on the loose, and no mistake. Took Bill and Phyllis only last night. Dragged ‘em screaming from the pool, despite me honking and clapping my flippers. Didn’t even faze ‘em, would you believe? And by the smell drifting over on the wind, I’d say they’re on the prowl again tonight. Not that you could smell it with that tiny snooter of yours. I mean, what’s even the use of that thing?” Neil laughed in amazement at being able to understand the creature. The seal darted him what was probably a dirty look, though it was hard to tell with the lack of eyebrows. “Something funny, boyo? Good, honest seal lives not mean much to you?”
Brian Helsing: The World's Unlikeliest Vampire Hunter. Mission #3: Howlin' Mad Page 4
