The Vampire Hunters (Book 2): Vampyrnomicon

by Baker, Scott M.

  When the elevator stopped on the thirteenth floor, Alison stepped out and walked down to Drake’s apartment. She stood in front of the door, straightened her greatcoat, pushed aside her collar, and rang the bell.

  Alison heard a commotion inside the apartment, and Drake called out, “Who is it?”

  “Room service.”

  Drake unlocked the door and opened it. He stood in the doorway completely dressed, except his shirt remained unbuttoned and not yet tucked in. He greeted her with a smile. Alison’s attention was drawn to his chest.

  “This is a surprise,” he said. “Come on in.”

  “Thanks.” Alison stepped into the apartment as Drake closed the door. “I thought you might like a ride into work seeing as—”

  A female voice from the bedroom interrupted Alison. “Who’s at the door?”

  Alison’s heart sank. She turned just as Jessica leaned out of the bedroom, drying her hair with a towel. She wore a skirt and bra, but no blouse. If Alison needed any further confirmation of what happened last night, the disheveled bed left little to the imagination.

  “It’s just Alison.”

  Just Alison? She wished she had not dropped by.

  “Finish up and meet us in the kitchen,” Drake yelled to Jessica, and then motioned for Alison to follow him. He noticed the iced coffee. “Is that for me?”

  “Yeah.”

  Drake took the cup from Alison. Prying off the plastic lid, he took a long drink and sighed. “You’re the best.”

  “Thanks,” she said without enthusiasm.

  Drake placed his iced coffee on the counter by the sink and began buttoning his shirt. “Has Jim prepped everything for this afternoon?”

  Once again her conversation with Drake centered on hunting the undead. “I don’t know. I haven’t been by the office yet.”

  “I guess we’ll find out soon enough.” Drake took another sip of coffee. “I have to finish getting ready. Can I get you anything?”

  “I’m fine,” she lied. “I’ll say hi to van Helsing while I wait.”

  “He’d like that.”

  When Alison entered the den, van Helsing stood in the closest corner of the upper level, stretching on his hind legs to catch a glimpse of his visitor. Upon seeing Alison, he raced back and forth. Alison opened the door and stuck her head inside. Van Helsing leaned forward and nudged his nose against Alison’s, then lowered his head onto the floor and presented himself to be petted. Taking his ears between the fingers of her left hand, Alison gently massaged. Van Helsing clicked in satisfaction.

  “At least you like me,” she said under her breath.

  A few minutes later, Alison heard Drake and Jessica talking in the kitchen. She ruffled the fur on van Helsing’s head as a goodbye gesture and joined them. Drake was finishing his iced coffee and munching on a breakfast bar. Jessica fumbled around in her purse. At least now she wore clothes. When Drake saw Alison, he stopped eating long enough to ask her a question.

  “Can we swing Jessica by her place on the way home?”

  Jessica looked up from her purse to Alison, embarrassed by the question. At least she had enough sense to realize the awkwardness of the situation. Jessica quickly averted her gaze. “I live in the other direction.”

  “It’s no trouble,” said Drake.

  “That’s okay. I’d rather walk.”

  “Your choice. Will you have time to get home and make it to the office before we head out for the nest?”

  “About that.” Another awkward silence. “I won’t be going with you this morning.”

  “Why not?” Drake asked, more confused than disappointed.

  “Philips told me that if I don’t start spending more time in the office, he’s going to replace me. Besides, I’m a reporter, not a hunter.”

  “You’re doing okay.”

  “Oh, please. I’ve been on two hunts with you. The first time I nearly got killed. The second time I was arrested.”

  “Sounds like our record,” quipped Alison, though no one paid attention.

  Jessica took Drake’s hands. “I like you, and want to be with you. But when it comes to our jobs, we live in two different worlds. I don’t belong in yours. And frankly, I don’t want to be. Are you mad?”

  “Why should I be mad?”

  “Then we’re cool?”

  “Of course.”

  Jessica beamed. She leaned forward to kiss Drake then, realizing Alison was present, gave him a peck on the cheek instead.

  “The offer of a ride is still on.”

  “Thanks, but no. I need the exercise.” Taking her purse off the kitchen counter, Jessica made her way to the front door. “I’ll let myself out. Call me later.”

  When they heard the front door close, Alison tried to think of something to say to break the silence. She could think of only one thing. “Well, that was awkward.”

  “I expected as much,” Drake said with a matter-of-fact tone as he finished off the iced coffee.

  “How so?”

  “I like Jessica. But she’s more at home hunting down bargains in a mall rather than hunting the undead.”

  “That’s mean.” But true, thought Alison.

  “It’s not meant to be. Jessica just doesn’t have the hunter instinct.”

  “Like me.” A hint of exasperation tainted Alison’s voice.

  “Don’t sell yourself short. You’re damn good at what you do. But it goes way beyond that. Do you realize how many times I’ve placed my life in your hands? We’ve been to hell and back many times. I trust you more than I’ve ever trusted anyone else in my entire life.” Drake threw out the empty cup. As he passed behind Alison, he stopped long enough to wrap his arms around her, hugging her around the waist. “That’s something I’ll never have with another woman.”

  Alison closed her eyes, enjoying the feel of his arms and chest against her. How she envied Jessica for spending the night with him. Alison might not have his love, but she had his trust and respect, a better foundation for a relationship. Besides, if things worked out well this afternoon and they destroyed the nest, she would no longer have a reason not to try and win over Drake.

  Drake broke his grip and rubbed her left arm. “Come on. We have work to do.”

  * * *

  Jim waited for them in his work area when they arrived at the office. Alison noted that, as usual, he already had their gear laid out for them. A pair of satchel bags, each containing two bottles of Heaven’s Fire. A bottle of holy water to splash on their necks as protection against vampire bites. Three sets of Midland radios. Plus a bunch of other surprises.

  “Morning, Jim,” said Drake in his usual boisterous manner.

  Jim looked over his shoulder. “It’s about time. I thought you’d gone ahead without me.”

  “Never.” Drake patted him on the shoulder.

  Jim smiled at Alison. “Good morning.”

  “Morning,” she replied, in no mood to add the “good” part.

  Drake stepped past Jim and examined everything spread out on the table. “Looks like you’ve been busy.”

  “Not really,” Jim said modestly. “Most of this stuff is just upgrades to our usual gear.”

  Jim picked up one of the three Midland radios and its accompanying microphone headset. “I got these headsets for the radios so we can talk to each other and keep our hands free.”

  “Just like in the movies.”

  “Yeah, except I improved on them. Rather than male/female connectors, I replaced them with magnetic connectors.” Jim held up the radio. Rather than having a male prong inserter, the plug-in portion of the microphone headset had been replaced with a disk about the size of a dime. A similar disk had been inserted into the female plug on the radio. “Now, if you get the wire caught on something, rather than rip the radio off your belt or the headset off your ears, you get this.” Jim gave the wire a yank, and the headset’s magnetic connector popped off of the radio’s connector.

  “I like it,” said Drake.

  “
I like this.” Alison lifted a 12-gauge shotgun off of the bench. The standard stock and slide had been replaced with a rear pistol grip and a slide with a fore-end grip, respectively. Jim had also outfitted it with a heat shield around the barrel and a side-mounted combination laser/light.

  “I figured you would. It’s a standard Remington 870 with accessories. I can easily strip it down, if you want.”

  “Hell, no.” Alison grabbed the fore-end grip in her left hand and pulled back, opening the chamber. “What type of shell does it use?”

  “A typical 12-gauge round two-thirds filled with buckshot soaked in holy water and one-third crystallized holy water. It’ll not only inflict some nasty damage but will hurt like a son of a bitch. The same rounds will fit into your sawed-off shotgun.”

  “Sweet.” Alison flicked on the laser/light and aimed it at the targeting dummy across the room, imagining it as the female master.

  Jim motioned to a pair of Glocks on the work bench. “I also added laser/lights to your Glocks so you can see what you’re shooting at.”

  “Thanks,” said Drake. He pointed to a black canister at the end of the line-up. “What’s that? It looks like pepper spray.”

  “It is. Sort of.” Jim picked up the canister, beaming like a young mother showing off her newborn. “I modified a four-ounce canister of pepper spray, replacing the oleoresin capsicum with a twenty percent solution of holy water. This will give the vampires something to cry about. I made it for Jess so she can defend herself.”

  “Blondie won’t be joining us on any more hunts,” Alison sneered.

  “Really? Why?”

  “It’s not her thing.”

  “Oh.” The disappointment was evident in Jim’s voice.

  Alison took the canister and slipped it into her coat pocket. “I’ll take it. I know just the master I want to use it on.”

  “That’s it, boss.” Jim shrugged. “Not too much this time.”

  “Don’t apologize.” Drake picked up one of the Glocks, switched on the laser/light, and aimed it across the room. “These should be more than enough to handle anything we run across inside the nest.”

  “You hope.” Alison said it absentmindedly and instantly regretted it. The festive mood evaporated as each of them remembered the close calls they recently had.

  Drake broke the gloom first. “Is the Ram ready to go?”

  “All gassed up and checked out,” said Jim.

  “Then let’s load up and rock.”

  * * *

  Late again. Hell, Jessica chided herself. She’d be late to her own funeral. Common sense told her to go straight to the office after leaving Drake’s apartment, but instead she went home to change her clothes, fearful of being teased if someone noticed that she wore the same outfit she had on yesterday. She probably would have made it to work on time if an electrical failure on the Metro did not force the Red Line to unload all its passengers at Gallery Place Station and bus them to Judicial Square, which added another eighty minutes to her commute.

  Worse still, the lengthened commute gave her more time to think about Drake’s reaction to her decision not to join him on any more hunts. She had expected, maybe deep down had hoped, that he would be disappointed. She would have accepted anger. Instead, he seemed not to care one way or the other. He didn’t seem upset that she opted not to share the major part of his life with him. Sure, she could rationalize several reasons why Drake preferred her not to join the group. The cons of mixing business with pleasure. Her being more of a liability to the group than an asset. Concern that whatever they did against the undead might one day make its way into the newspapers. And many more reasons, all of them legitimate and rational. Still, she hoped for at least a sulk from Drake when she backed out at the last moment.

  A part of Jessica wondered how much Drake really liked her, or whether he saw her as a momentary distraction from the harsh realities of his life. She could live with that, as long as she did not get too emotionally involved. For now, she chalked it up to Drake wanting to keep his personal and professional lives separate, which would also be a good idea if she wanted to keep her job at The Standard.

  If she kept telling herself that, she might actually believe it one day.

  Jessica was half-way through reading her incoming e-mails when she heard Philips’ gruff voice at the entrance to her cubicle.

  “Nice of you to join us.”

  “Sorry.” She swung her chair around to face him. “The commute was messed up bec—”

  “Save it. You don’t have time. You need to get down to that row of abandoned block houses right away.”

  “What’s up?”

  “The police are raiding it at noon. They want to round up whoever’s in there and charge them with the murder of that sewer worker.”

  Shit, thought Jessica. That’s where Drake is heading.

  Philips noted the look of concern on her face. He stepped into the cubicle. “What’s wrong?”

  “Nothing, really. It’s just—”

  “Don’t worry. I already cleared this with Chief Roach. He wants you there.”

  “You’re joking.”

  “You of all people should know I have no sense of humor.” Philips sat on the edge of her desk. “You’re one of the few people who ran across whoever is in that old row house, and he thought you might be helpful.”

  “But Drake and Alison got a much better look at them than I did.”

  “Now you’re joking.” Philips gave her no time to respond. “Roach wants you there as an advisor, which gives you an advantage over the other journalists. Use that advantage. I want a story on my desk for tomorrow’s edition that’ll make The Post and The Times green with envy. Got it?”

  “Got it.”

  “Good.” Philips pushed himself off the desk and headed out, then turned to face her. “I assigned Stewart to be your photographer. He’s waiting for you down front with a car, and will take the two of you to the row house. You’ll meet Roach there. Good luck.”

  Jessica logged off and gathered her purse and jacket. Two minutes later, she exited the lobby onto the street. Two quick beeps of a car horn caught her attention. Stewart sat in a green Monte Carlo two cars off to her left. He stuck his hand out the driver’s side window and waved to attract her attention. Jessica smiled and held up a forefinger, telling him to wait a minute. Pulling out her cell phone from her jacket pocket, she flipped it open and dialed Drake’s office, only to get the answering machine. Breaking the connection, she then dialed Drake’s cell phone, this time getting the automated message notifying her that the cellular customer she tried to reach did not have his phone on. Damn.

  Another blast of the horn, this time longer. Stewart pointed to his watch. Jessica nodded in acknowledgment, closed her cell phone, and headed for the Monte Carlo.

  She wished she could have warned Drake, but she couldn’t do anything about that now. With luck, the police would get there before Drake and the others entered the nest.

  5.

  None of the hunters spoke as they stood underneath the tunnel leading from the sewer to the basement of the abandoned row house. For each of them, it brought back memories of their close call three days ago when they tried to investigate this nest. Depending on what waited for them up there, that could turn out to have been walk in the park.

  “Are we ready?” asked Drake as he slid on his leather gloves.

  “No,” replied Jim.

  “You don’t pay me enough for this shit,” added Alison.

  “Good. Let’s go.”

  Drake placed the duffel bag with their gear onto the ground, unzipped it, and withdrew the one-hundred-foot length of rope. He draped the coiled rope around his neck and under his left arm. Taking a flashlight from the duffel bag, he switched it on and slid it under the shoulder strap on his leather jacket so the light shone forward. Drake stepped underneath the tunnel. “How about a hand?”

  Alison and Jim applauded.

  “Great. I’m about to go into battle wit
h Abbott and Costello.” He stood underneath the opening for a few seconds. “Well?”

  Alison stepped forward and interlocked her gloved fingers, forming her hands into a makeshift foothold, and crouched. Drake placed his right foot on her hands and lifted himself to the rim of the opening. Alison and Jim each grabbed a leg and lifted him further until he obtained a foothold. Pulling himself up into the tunnel, Drake felt around for a firm grip on the rocks, which was difficult considering they were moist and in many spots covered with moss. Drake eventually got some traction and began the arduous climb, all the while waiting for the anticipated attack from above.

  After ten minutes of hard climbing, Drake stopped a few feet from the top rim of the tunnel, propping himself against the wall for support. He removed one of the Glocks from its shoulder holster, switched on the laser/light, and climbed up the last few feet. He peered over the rim, expecting to see a horde of vampires waiting to swarm him. All he saw were several corpses in various states of decomposition.

  Reholstering his Glock, Drake crawled into the basement and worked quickly. He looked around until he found a main water pipe not rusted out and sturdy enough to handle a person’s weight, and tied one end of the rope to it. The other end he tossed down the tunnel to the others. Jim climbed up first. Alison tied the end of the rope to the duffel bag before she began her ascent so they could haul it up last before following. Five minutes later, all three hunters stood in the darkened basement.

  Drake pulled up the duffel bag, placed it on the basement floor, and unzipped it. Each of the hunters took off their gloves and geared up, starting with a Midland Radio with microphone headset. Jim took the crossbow with laser sight and a satchel bag containing two bottles of Heaven’s Fire. Alison took the Remington and a bandolier of 12-gauge rounds. Drake withdrew a pair of stakes, which he inserted into the pouch inside his leather jacket, and took the second satchel bag with two bottles of Heaven’s Fire, which he draped over his shoulder. Checking each Glock and loading a holy water round into each chamber, he slid one Glock back into his right shoulder holster and switched on the laser/light to the other one.