by A. J. Colby
“Well, there’s only one way to find out.”
Frustration brought dampness to my eyes as I approached the intersection at a cautious shuffle to shine the light from my phone in either direction and couldn’t make out any marked difference between them. Waffling between turning left or right, I shone my light into the darkness once more and felt my heart stutter the instant my gaze fell on a pale figure lurching out of the gloom towards me.
It wasn’t the same vamp I’d encountered in Cordova’s office, but that didn’t ease the frantic beating of my heart. From the sharp edges of his cheek bones and shoulders it was easy to see he’d been a young, slender man in life, no older than twenty or so, but undeath had made him cadaverous. The cold light from my phone emphasized the sallow hue of his skin and the dark veins that spread like spider webs beneath. Like his pajama wearing buddy upstairs, he looked as if he’d just awoken, his hair stuck up in messy spikes.
I was in no rush for a repeat of the interaction I’d had in Cordova’s office, but I couldn’t hang around beneath the church all day either. Besides, what were the chances of running into two crazed vamps in one day?
Stupid question, I know.
“Umm... hello?” I called out, the echo of my voice sounding loud as it bounced back at me from the stone walls.
I wasn’t sure if the vamp even heard me at first, the vacant expression on his face unchanging as he continued to move forward in slow, shuffling steps that kicked up small clouds of dust from beneath his bare feet. The vamp was little more than ten feet away when he finally appeared to take notice of me, his milky eyes swinging around to pin me with a chilling stare.
“Ah... hi there,” I stuttered, trying to sound cool and failing miserably.
An inarticulate groan, accompanied by a furrow between his brows, was the only response I received at first, and I allowed myself a moment of relief at the fact that he hadn’t instantly launched himself at my jugular.
Point for team Riley!
All too soon, however, his groan shifted to a grating hiss that sent prickles of alarm down my spine along with a fresh surge of fear tainted sweat.
“Hey buddy, chill out. I’m just looking for the way out,” I said raising my hands.
With the speed of striking cobra, his gaze locked onto the smear of blood on my palms, and his nostrils flared as he drew a deep breath. I got the overwhelming urge to wipe my hands on my jeans again, but figured that any sudden movements weren’t in my best interest. As I contemplated my rather limited options, my new friend took up a soundless chant. His lips moved in a repetitious recitation, but he spoke so low that even with my enhanced hearing I couldn’t make out the words.
Great, I’ve stumbled on the undead version of Rain Man.
“What?” I asked with a hard edge of irritation to my words.
“...helps fang, blood helps...” he muttered in a whisper that sounded like the rustle of centuries old paper.
“I so don’t have time for this crap.”
“Blood helps blood, fang helps fang,” he said again, his voice growing in volume. There was a weight behind his words that made me think there was something important about them. The only problem was that me and my mundane upbringing had no idea what they might mean.
“Yeah, okay sure. Blood, fang, whatever.”
“Blood helps blood, fang helps fang,” he repeated, already sounding like a broken record, while his staring dead eyes gave me a serious case of the heebie-jeebies.
“You said that already. Look, just point me towards the way out, and I’ll get out of your hair.”
“Blood helps blood, fang helps fang. You’re not blood, not fang.”
“That’s right, no fangs here,” I replied, opening my mouth and pointing at my obvious lack of fangs.
“Not blood, not fang,” he took up in a low mutter at the same time he began to rock back and forth on his heels.
Daring to take my eyes off of him to cast the light of my phone around once more, searching for something that might point me in the right direction, all I saw were tunnels reaching off into impenetrable darkness.
Haven’t these guys ever heard of sign posts or some shit? I thought, wishing that an exit sign would poof! into existence above my head.
“Not blood, not fang,” my singular-minded companion continued to rant, growing louder, jarring me back to attention.
Turning my gaze back to him I found him regarding me with those creepy milk-white eyes, his head cocked to one side as if I were some kind of puzzle he was trying to figure out. Dread settled heavy and ice cold in my gut as his voice grew in volume and the crease in his brow shifted into an expression of irritation.
“No... not fang, but not an enemy either,” I said, taking a slow step backwards, my boot scraping against dirt and stone.
Big mistake.
The grating noise was loud in the silent tunnel, echoing off the damp covered walls. The vamp flinched at the sudden sound as if he had been struck.
“Not blood! Not fang!” he bellowed, baring yellowed fangs in a hiss that rained spittle in my direction while his eyes flared silver, gleaming like twin mirrors in the darkness.
“Ah, shit.”
They always say that when faced with a predator like a mountain lion you shouldn’t run, but instead should stand your ground and try to make yourself appear as large as possible. I didn’t think that same tactic would work against an enraged vampire, and I didn’t want to stick around long enough to find out. Doing the only thing I could, I turned tail and ran, praying I could outrun him in the unfamiliar subterranean tunnels.
Not bloody likely.
My boot heels pounded on the dirt covered stone, the sharp sound reverberating off the walls to create a dizzying echo that drowned out the pursuit of my would-be assailant. Even with the wolf’s sight I struggled to make out my surroundings in the lurching light cast by the phone clutched in my fist. It was all but impossible to differentiate gaping tunnel entrances from the inky shadows until I was practically on top of them, the unknown lurking within them as terrifying as the relentless footsteps behind me. This was the shit that nightmares were made of, and I had the feeling that if I survived this ordeal I would be sleeping with the light on for a long time.
Picking and choosing tunnels at random, I weaved my way through the seemingly endless network of tunnels, all the while wondering just how far they stretched beneath the city.
I must be near the Capitol Building by now, I thought as I urged my legs to keep pumping despite the burning ache in my calves and the rasping sound of my labored breaths.
I had no idea how far I’d run by the time I realized that the vamp wasn’t chasing me anymore. Exhausted, I stumbled to a stop. My legs felt as though they were made of Jell-O as I collapsed against the tunnel wall and slid down to my butt. The stone was cold and damp against my back, smelling of decay and mold, but I didn’t care.
As my breaths slowed and the pounding of my heart returned to something approaching normal, I strained to hear any signs of the vamp. Hearing nothing beyond the near constant trickle of water on stone, I let my head rest against the crumbling brick and closed my eyes.
“I’ll just rest for a minute.”
The loud chirp of a cricket startled me out of my momentary respite, accompanied by the odd sensation of something vibrating in my lap. It took me several seconds to realize that it was my cell phone ringing, and for several heartbeats I just stared at it in shock.
How the hell do they have cell service down here?
Hoping that the sound hadn’t carried too far, I hastened to silence the damn thing and nearly dropped it in surprise when I saw Holbrook’s name flash on the screen.
Really? Now he calls?
Keeping one ear cocked to listen for the faint shuffle of a foot, or menacing hiss, I swiped a grimy thumb across the screen and lifted the phone to my ear. “Hello?”
“Hey,” Holbrook greeted, sounding tired but relaxed. “How are you?”
“
Umm... fine. You?” I asked, glancing around me to peer into the darkness.
“Tired and ready to come home. It’s been insane here with non-stop meetings and training. Besides, I miss you.”
“That’s cool,” I murmured, only half listening to what he was saying.
“What have you been up to?” he asked, his voice sinking into the warm, honeyed Southern drawl he got when he was half asleep. “Besides, missing me of course,” he added with a rumbling chuckle that would have my heart thump in desire if I wasn’t distracted by the imminent danger lurking somewhere close by. The sleepy tone of his voice conjured up a mental image of him stretched out on his hotel bed, one hand curled behind his head on the pillows to highlight the swell of his bicep, while dark stubble clung to his chin, and his eyes were hooded with sleepiness. It was enough to make a nun renounce her vows.
“Ah... not much,” I hedged as I struggled to decide if the distant glimmer I saw was a figment of my aroused and overworked imagination, or something much worse.
“Riley? Is everything okay?” Before I could answer, he went on, “Are you mad I didn’t call on Valentine’s Day? I wanted to, but it just ended up being one thing after another. By the time I had a minute to myself I was too exhausted to do anything except get off my shoes before I passed out.”
“It’s not that...” I replied, though the small lump of rejection still hung like a lead pellet in the pit of my stomach, flaring white hot with bitterness at the thought he might not be as invested in our relationship as I was. Then again, I wasn’t even sure if what we had was a relationship. There had been no discussions about exclusivity or commitment. For all I knew, I could have been one of a handful of girls he was dating.
Now you’re just being an idiot, the wolf snapped, rolling her eyes at my pity party. Beyond the fact that now was not the time to wallow in self-pity, deep down I knew that Holbrook wasn’t the kind of guy to behave in such a douchey way.
“How about I make it up to you when I get back? Homemade lasagna and garlic bread. If you ask nice enough, I’ll even make my Nana’s cheesecake I keep telling you about.”
The mere mention of his grandmother’s famous New York style cheesecake was enough to momentarily distract me from the threat of an enraged vamp creeping ever closer in the dark to tear out my still beating heart.
“With strawberries?” I heard myself ask and smiled when I was rewarded a second later by his deep laugh. Damn, it felt good to hear that rich laughter rumbling in my ear as if he was lying next to me in the dark.
“If that’s what you want.”
I could think of that, and several other things, I wanted from him, but they’d all have to wait. The unmistakable plink of a rock being disturbed sent a flood of terror through me with enough force to knock the air from my lungs as surely as if someone had punched me in the stomach. The sound had been close, too close, and I knew without a doubt that the gleam in the distance was definitely not the product of my nerves, but rather the twin silvery eyes of the vamp hunting me.
“Fuck me!” I swore under my breath.
Growing breathless in the way that I knew meant his cheeks and the tips of his ears were flushing crimson, he said, “Christ, Riley. That’s so not fair.”
I knew I should be terrified, but the rumble of his voice triggered an automatic reaction low in the crux of my thighs, made all the more powerful by the adrenaline racing through my veins.
“This isn’t a good time.”
Watching those disembodied eyes creeping forward inch by inch I felt my heart clench with fear.
“You’re telling me,” Holbrook murmured, and I heard the rough sound of his hand rubbing the stubble on his cheeks.
“No, really, this isn’t a good time. I’ve got to go,” I whispered, levering myself up into a crouch while racking my brain to figure out how the hell I was going to get out of there with my throat intact.
“What? You’re kidding, right? What’s going on?”
Whatever I had been about to say died on my tongue as the enraged vamp launched out of the shadows and towards the small pool of light cast by the phone pressed to my ear. Bounding towards me with outstretched hands curled into claws, madness gleamed in his liquid silver eyes.
“Crap! Gotta go, crazy vamp trying to eat me,” I blurted, lurching to my feet.
“What?”
“Bye Holbrook. I love you.”
“Riley? What’s hap—”
Hanging up, I propelled myself into motion, sprinting down the tunnel, my heart thumping in time with the footsteps pounding behind me. Somewhere in the back of my mind I spared a thought to wonder if I had just told Holbrook that I loved him. I could only hope I lived long enough to hear him return the sentiment.
CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR
I’M GOING TO die here, came the unwelcome thought as I ran blindly through the maze of tunnels below Asylum. And when I do, I’m going to spend my afterlife haunting Chrismer, I added. The image of her smug face in my mind lent me another burst of energy as I fought to outpace the vampire behind me.
It was a futile hope, and fate decided that it had toyed with me enough when I came to yet another intersection and, in a moment of indecision, waited a second too long. Starbursts filled my vision and pain bloomed in my face as I was driven face first into the wall. The sound of my face slamming into the bricks reverberated in my skull long after the collision, and my eyes filled with shocked tears. Not wanting to do the crazed vamp any favors by letting him pummel my face into the wall, I turned to press my back to the bricks. Blinking away the blurriness in my vision, which was either tears trailing down my cheeks or a steady trickle of blood from a cut on my forehead, I was granted a clear view of the vamp as he reared back, yellowed fangs bared, in preparation to strike.
I wanted to get away, but it was like watching a car crash in slow motion, and try as I might, I couldn’t seem to get my limbs to respond to my mental commands. Pain flared white hot in my awareness when his mouth closed over the meat of my shoulder, piercing the skin. I gagged at the scent of half-decayed things and fresh, spurting blood.
My fingers, curled into claws, scrabbled at the vamp’s shoulder to push him away, but my actions were about as effective as pushing against a brick wall. Although he smelled like he’d been left to rot in a basement a hundred years ago, the flesh under his shirt was solid. I could feel corded muscles moving beneath ice cold skin as he gnawed at my shoulder like a starving dog with a bone, each scrape of his fangs against my collarbone sending shocks of agony through me. There was no doubt in my mind that if I didn’t do something soon, he would bleed me dry.
At a loss for any other ideas, I did the only thing I could think of, and, pouring every ounce of strength I had into the motion, drove my knee upwards into his crotch. Undead or not, I’d yet to encounter a guy that wouldn’t react to a knee in the family jewels. Thankfully, the deranged vamp was no exception. A puff of death scented breath wafted into my face as he let out a pained exhalation, his jaws snapping open in surprise and releasing their hold on me as he slid sideways to the floor.
Clamping one hand over the warm trickle of blood from my shoulder, and using the other to brace myself against the wall, I drew my foot back and let it fly in a fair imitation of David Beckham. The impact of my foot against the side of the vamp’s head wasn’t as pretty or graceful as I could have hoped, but it got the job done, and I watched in satisfaction as he slumped over onto his side with a groan. I wasn’t sure I had the energy to go another five feet, let alone wander endlessly in the subterranean prison I’d stumbled into, but I knew I had to keep moving if I wanted to find a way out. Lurching into a wobbling run, I left the groaning vamp behind.
* * *
I had to compress my lips into a tight line to keep from crying aloud in relief when I rounded yet another corner and came face to face with a rust-speckled, but solid looking, door. There was even a glowing exit sign above the doorframe.
You’ve got to be kidding me.
&nbs
p; Dumbstruck, I moved forward like a puppet on a string, refusing to acknowledge the spark of hope in my chest as my fingers closed around the door handle. Tears of relief flooded my vision when the handle gave no resistance and the door swung open on well-oiled hinges. Hesitant to step through the doorway without being certain of what I might find inside, I maintained my grip on the door handle and leaned into the doorway. Bare bulbs encased in wire cages illuminated stairs leading upwards, their light as bright as the summer sun after the darkness of the tunnels. There appeared to be several landings with similar heavy doors interspersed at regular intervals, and I was sure that one of them would lead to freedom.
My feet felt as if someone had tied weights to each of my ankles and strapped a bag of rocks on my back. Exhaustion was a painful glow in my muscles and a raw burn in my throat as I pulled myself up each step to the first landing. Werewolf endurance could only get me so far on an empty stomach and little sleep.
Unlike the door at the bottom of the stairs that bore only a smattering of rust, the one I stood before now had more rust than paint, and looked like it hadn’t been touched in over twenty years. Defeat hung sour in the back of my throat, but I stubbornly held out hope as I reached for the handle and tugged.
A shower of flakes, the same color as old blood, rained down on the concrete at my feet, but the door didn’t budge an inch.
“God damn undead shit sucking sons of whores!” I growled, my voice ringing in the confined space, sounding hollow and tinny.
Leaning my forehead against the pock-marked surface of the door, I listened to the echoes of my curse fade away into silence as cold and oppressive as the defeat wrapping cruel fingers around my heart. The last echo of my outburst died at the same instant I caught the unmistakable sound of the door creaking open below. Fear stole the breath from my lungs as it flowed like ice through my veins. I turned and moved to the railing as if the floor was made of delicate pressure sensors. Peering over the edge, I looked down at the vamp moving in slow circles at the bottom of the stairs like flotsam circling the drain. The sound of my curse had drawn him into the stairwell, but he’d yet to figure out where I was. I watched him turn around and around with the shuffling, searching gait of a dementia patient.
