by Hunter
Lucimal was limping towards her, the glowing sword in his hands, lighting his colorless eyes with a hellish glow. Leaf scrambled to her feet, gulping back tears. She turned and ran towards the park, the blade whistling through the air just behind her, his curses seemingly in her ear.
Ahead she could see Sander’s van, ahead on the street, a clean red under the yellow streetlight. She gasped for air as she ran, the whistling sword and snarled curses reminding her not to look back. She sprinted for the van, for an illusory safety.
A car screeched to a halt just in front of her, blue and red lights blazing. Leaf smacked into the right front quarter panel, rolled across the hood. The driver door opened in front of her, nearly hitting her in the head.
“Freeze, asshole! ” a voice above Leaf yelled. “This is the police! Don’t you fuckin’ move! ”
“Mine is the flesh! ” Lucimal screamed, just before two pistols opened up. Leaf the sound of bullets striking flesh, and the tinkle of shell casings hitting concrete. Leaf flinched as a hot cartridge struck her hand. She was too dazed to do anything else.
Silence.
“Where’s that fucking glowing sword? ” one voice called out after what seemed an eternity. The smell of gunpowder was thick in her nostrils.
“I dunno, ” the voice above Leaf replied. “We’ll find it later. We got somebody right here, though. ”
“Streetwalker? “
Leaf felt a strong hand grasp her collar, lifting her up. She saw a fleshy face staring at her
from close range. The smell of cheap coffee and donuts hit her like a blast. “Naw, ” the cop holding her reported. “She’s uptown. Taxpayer. ” Leaf tried to find her feet and place them on the ground. She heard the first cop say something that sounded like, “Pity. ”
“You all right, Ma’am? ” the other cop asked her, not unkindly. Leaf nodded quickly. Out of reflex, she looked at the cop with her second sight. She fought her reflexive horror when she saw the corruption in his face. “You mind telling me what’s going on here? ” the cop asked as she propped herself against the car.
“I was… I was walking home, ” Leaf gasped, “when—”
“Not a good neighborhood to be taking an evening stroll through, Lady, ” the cop holding Leaf interrupted, giving her a suspicious look.
“I was walking home when—”
“Shit, Bob, you gotta check this out, ” his equally-corrupt partner interrupted. He was standing over Lucimal, his flashlight illuminating the dead man’s face. “This guy liked his vittles raw. ” “Whaddya talking about, Vern? ” Bob turned away from Leaf. Leaf held onto the Ford Crown Victoria, thinking furiously. She was grateful she wasn’t wearing anything identifying her as a hunter.
“I think this guy was eating something that wasn’t quite done living yet, ” Vern replied. “There’s blood all over his teeth. ” He leaned down and ripped open Lucimal’s coat. “Just as I thought. Body armor. Good thing I aimed for the head. ”
“You know anything about this, Ma’am? ” Bob turned to Leaf.
“I saw— I heard shots, I went to go look and I saw… I saw him eating — over there—” The lies came easily to her. She pointed down the alley.
“Jesus H. Frankenchrist. Vern, go check it out, ” Bob ordered. “We gotta call this one in. ” “Ten-four. ” Vern pulled out his pistol, replaced the clip. He headed down the alley, his flashlight held over his pistol, leading his eyes.
“Stay here, Ma’am, ” Bob ordered as he slipped back into the car. ”I still got some questions for you. ” Leaf leaned against the cruiser’s hood, grateful she no longer had the. 38. She surreptitiously tucked her knit gloves into her poncho, to conceal the powder bums. She could hear Bob talking on the car radio.
She heard the sound of running footsteps. “Her story checks out, Bob, ” the other cop reported between heaving breaths. “Man, it’s a fucking slaughterhouse back there, and it looks like the guy we bagged was a wannabe Lecter, too. ”
Bob relayed the information, then stepped out of the car. He glanced over at Leaf. He’ll remember my face, she thought, I’m known to them all now.
“Can I go? ” Leaf called out. She saw Bob look over to the other cop. Vern shrugged.
“Sure Lady, ” Bob replied. “But I’m gonna have to get your name and address first. ” He flipped out his notebook.
Leaf gave him the name and address on her fake ID, showing it to him as corroboration. She was amazed at how easily the lies tumbled from her lips. The cop took it all down carefully, accepting the forged driver’s license as genuine. I have to disappear, go into hiding, she realized.
“You want a ride home, Ma’am? ” Bob asked when he was done.
Leaf shook her head. “I’ll be fine. The cross-town bus stops about a block from here. ”
“Yeah, there’ll be one there, ” he checked his watch, “in about fifteen minutes. You sure you’re okay, though? ”
“Yeah. I got money, too. ” Leaf turned away. She could see Sander’s van, parked at the side of the road. Useless. She didn’t have the keys.
“We’ll be in touch, Ma’am, ” Bob promised. Leaf numbly stumbled away from the police car, carefully walking towards the other side of the street. Wailing sirens pierced the night, growing closer. Leaf crossed the road, hugging the shadows as she walked away from the scene. Nothing would ever be the same again.
Carleton Van Wyk ran headlong down the shadowy service stairs of the old hotel, his clattering footsteps echoing in the shaft. Somewhere above him, a jovial voice called, “I’m gonna get you, old man! ”
As he staggered across the landing connecting one flight of steps to the next, the slight, silver-haired physician wondered grimly how the investigation had gone wrong so quickly and completely. When one of his sources on the Net had informed him of an upcoming gathering of vampires, he had carefully planned how to conceal himself in the venue and observe them. But somehow, one of the monsters had sniffed out his hiding place almost immediately.
He hurtled off the bottom of the stairs into a crooked little corridor. To his left was an exit. He flung himself at it, threw it open, and nearly fell into the arms of the vampire waiting on the other side.
Eyes burning in his white, lean face, his grin revealing two ivory fangs, the creature reached for him. Van Wyk pointed his Sig Sauer Model 226 and fired. The bullet — his last, if he’d counted correctly — caught the monster in the chest and knocked him backward.
Blood flowing from his wound, the vampire snarled and lurched forward again. Van Wyk momentarily considered trying to freeze the blooddrinker in place with his gaze, but decided that trick couldn’t save him. Not with the creature still blocking the doorway and its comrade racing down the stairs at his back. He dropped the now useless pistol, turned, and dashed back down the hallway and through the door at the other end.
Laughter rippled through the air. The doctor saw that he’d blundered into the hotel bar, and that many of the twenty or so vampires in the building had been waiting here to intercept him. He realized with a sick, sinking feeling that his pursuers probably could have caught him at any time, but had been running him around the building for fun. Until finally, when they’d had enough, they’d herded him here for the kill.
Leering, moving without haste, the vampires closed in on him from all sides. Their leisurely advance gave him a moment to concentrate, and a haze of shimmering blue light cocooned his body. Since the nimbus was invisible to others, his assailants kept on coming. When a slinking blooddrinker collided with it, the radiance sparked, crackled, and slammed the creature backward.
Wary of Van Wyk’s aura, the other vampires hung back for a moment, and then a glass ashtray flew out of the shadows, missing the his head by an inch. As he’d feared would happen, one of the blooddrinkers had thrown something at him, and now the creatures knew that even if they couldn’t reach him, their missiles could. They reached for whatever was handy, in some cases effortlessly hefting tables and chairs.
T
his was it, then. Van Wyk had watched supernatural entities of various sorts slaughter a dozen of his fellow hunters, and now, as he’d always known would happen someday, it was his turn. Dry-mouthed with fear, he felt an urge to close his eyes, but he didn’t. He stood up straight, composed his features, and gazed coldly at the monsters that were about to kill him.
At that moment, two newcomers marched into the bar. One was a tall, blond vampire, his fierce scowl looking out place on his pleasant, boyish face. Judging from his tanned complexion and beefy frame, the blooddrinker’s companion was a human minion. The servant looked exceedingly upset.
“Mr. Saraceno is dead! ” the human cried. The vampires menacing Van Wyk jerked around in shock.
The blond creature grimaced. “I actually wanted to announce the news myself, Wilson, somewhat less abruptly. ”
Wilson flinched. “I’m sorry, Mr. Rand. I wasn’t thinking. ”
“It’s all right. I know you’re upset. ” Rand looked toward the other vampires. “Well, you heard it. The prince is gone. ”
A short, voluptuous, black-haired vampire wearing cheap, heart-shaped sunglasses nervously turned a throwing knife in her hand. The weapon gleamed in the muted light as if it was made of silver. “Vampires don’t just die, ” she said in a husky voice. “If Saraceno is dead, somebody had to kill him. “
Rand nodded. “I’m afraid you’re right. He was murdered in his suite by a person or persons unknown. “
The raven-haired vampire sneered. “But I can guess who you’re going to accuse. ”
“I’m not accusing anyone yet, ” Rand replied. “The facts are… peculiar. ”
“Whatever, ” she said, “you’re not pinning this on us. ”
“I don’t see why not, ” someone called. “You bastards are the ones with the motive. You’ve hated the prince for years, and now he was in a position to denounce you at the next conclave! ” “We aren’t afraid of any stinking conclave, ” someone else retorted, “and we’re not the only ones with a reason. What about the kids? They were scared shitless of what Saraceno might do to them. ” “Forget the newborns, ” came another voice, “it was probably one of his own people. They’re the ones who could get close to him and take him by surprise. ”
Everyone started babbling at once. To Van Wyk, it genuinely appeared that everyone had forgotten him, and he wondered if he could make a discreet exit while they bickered. It was exceedingly unlikely, but on the other hand, what did he have to lose by trying?
He quelled his aura to make himself less conspicuous — though invisible, if it brushed up against one of the vampires, it would spark — then slowly began to turn toward the door through which he’d entered. When he got all the way around, he found himself facing a youthful— and rather scruffy-looking vampire clad in a T-shirt and tom, faded jeans. Whereas many bloodsuckers appeared lean and graceful, this one seemed skinny and awkward. But if he himself wasn’t impressive, the revolver he was pointing straight at Van Wyk made up for it. He gave the human an ironic, fang-baring smile.
Stripped of his last forlorn hope, Van Wyk turned back around to watch the other vampires argue. He might as well go out observing the blooddrinkers like the scientist he was, if only because that objective, dispassionate mindset would help him resist the gnawing dread that threatened to break him down.
Actually, the argument seemed likely to escalate into a brawl. A number of the creatures were brandishing weapons, and they all had their retractable fangs extended. Up at the front of the room, Rand climbed up on top of the bar.
“Stop this! ” he shouted, and something more than sound exploded forth from him, a palpable force of will that shocked everyone into silence. “You’re all behaving like idiots. You’re assuming some particular one of us is guilty, but at this point, we don’t know who’s to blame. ”
Suddenly, Van Wyk had a final, lunatic idea. “How do you propose to find out? ” he called.
Rand peered at him as if noticing him for the first time. “Who the devil are your
“Besides supper, ” said the vampire in the heart-shaped sunglasses. A couple of the other monsters chuckled, but the room was too tense for any great outpouring of mirth.
“My name doesn’t matter, ” said Van Wyk, knowing it might mean his death to give it, if not tonight, then in the future. With everyone now peering at him, not as prey but to hear what he had to say, he suddenly became conscious of his disheveled appearance. There was nothing to be done about the stinking, clammy sweat stains under his arms, or the tear in his slacks. But he straightened his tweed jacket, adjusted his how tie, pushed his spectacles back up to the bridge of his nose, and ran his fingers through his hair, talking the while. “But I’m one of the new breed of humans that studies beings like you, and puts them down when necessary. Your compatriots just witnessed one of my powers. ”
“Yeah, ” someone said. “Gives us even more reason to put you down, van Helsing. ”
“Go ahead, ” Van Wyk replied, “if you’re sure you can identify your prince’s murderer by yourselves. Are you? Are any of you trained investigators? I am. I’m a pathologist, and before I became involved in your world, I sometimes worked in the coroner’s office. I helped the police solve some particularly perplexing homicides. ”
“You may be Sherlock fucking Holmes among the donors, ” said the black-haired vampire, “but you couldn’t catch a killer on our turf. You don’t know anything about us. ”
“You underestimate me, ” the doctor replied. “I’ve already discerned that two very different groups of vampires are met here tonight. One faction affects a tough, blue-collar look: boots, denim, black leather, PVC, and gaudy jewelry. It’s rowdy and uninhibited. The other side dresses expensively and conservatively, like corporate executives. Its representatives are polite and reserved, or at least they were until news of Mr. Saraceno’s death robbed them of their composure. But the differences between the groups run deeper than taste in clothes or demeanor. As I was being chivvied about, I noticed the Blue Collars sometimes moved with superhuman speed. Here in the lounge, I’ve observed that they’re the ones who lifted heavy furniture as if it were weightless. The Executives did neither of those things, but Mr. Rand has demonstrated a preternatural ability to impose his will on others, which I take to be characteristic of his group. Thus I infer that your two parties represent two distinct subspecies of vampire. ”
He gazed at the black-haired blooddrinker. “You, Miss, are clearly at least the unofficial leader of the Blue Collars. Mr. Saraceno led the Executives, and apparently had some claim to final authority over both groups. Mr. Rand was manifestly his enclave’s second-in-command, and with the prince gone, he ascends to the primary position.
“Finally, your two groups have longstanding differences. Nonetheless, you arranged this meeting to resolve a problem involving certain young people, perhaps because the alternative was war. ” A surprised murmuring ran through the crowd. The raven-haired vampire grinned. “I have to admit, Doc, that was pretty good. My name’s Polly, by the way. ”
“Insightful or not, it’s irrelevant, ” said Rand. “We aren’t going to let a mortal poke around in our affairs. ”
“Why not? ” Polly replied. “Afraid of what he might find out about you? ”
“Of course not. But we protect our secrets, always. ” “Your gang believes in ‘always. ’ Mine is more flexible. Finding out who offed Saraceno is more important than keeping one mortal from learning a little
bit more about us. Because if we don’t find out, we might wind up fighting each other for nothing, or your side might denounce us to the old farts for breaking a truce. And the truth is, my people don’t have a detective. You don’t, either, and I wouldn’t trust him to report the truth if we did. But we can count on Doc here to be impartial. ”
“Yes, ” said Van Wyk, “provided you guarantee me safe passage out of here when my task is done. ” “Oh, sure, ” said a male Executive, “absolutely. “ Other vampires laughed.
&n
bsp; Van Wyk’s mouth tightened. Clearly, he couldn’t trust their word, but there was no point in saying so. His immediate task was to survive the next few minutes. If he succeeded in that, who knew what would happen? Surely there was at least a slim chance that, if he solved the murder, they would decide to let him go. Or perhaps he could find a way to escape.
“Hey, ” called a Blue Collar, “how do we know the Peter Cushing wannabe didn’t kill the prince himself? “
“Because, fool, we, or our servants, have been watching him pretty much every second since his arrival, ” an Executive with a trace of a French accent replied. “And I say his proposal has merit. He found us, didn’t he? Perhaps he can find the murderer as well. ”
“Not a chance in hell, ” said a female Executive. “But it might be fun to watch him try, and maybe we could use some entertainment right about now. It’ll give us time to calm down. ” Other vampires jabbered in agreement.
Rand glanced around the room, gauging the sentiments of the crowd. “All right. I still think this is an asinine idea, but I won’t have you suspecting I vetoed it because I’m the murderer. So, Doctor, here’s how it’s going to work. It’s ten before nine. You have until dawn to find the guilty party and earn your freedom. ” Laugher rippled through the room. “Otherwise, we’ll kill you and try to solve our own problems. ” He looked at the gawky vampire who had prevented Van Wyk from sneaking out, the one creature who didn’t look as if he truly belonged with either faction. “Marvin, I’m appointing you the doctor’s assistant. Help him in his inquiries, and make very sure he doesn’t escape. ” “Sure, okay, ” stammered Marvin, plainly surprised at having been chosen.
Polly grinned at Van Wyk. “So, the game is afoot. What’s your first move? ”
“I’d like to examine the crime scene and the body, ” the doctor replied.
“Sounds like a plan. And maybe Rand, Wilson, and I should tag along. ”
Van Wyk felt a twinge of disappointment. With four of his captors accompanying him to the elevators, he would have absolutely no chance of making a break for the front door. But then, he’d known it wouldn’t be that easy, anyway.
