Some sixty meters later, we emerge in another parking lot along the rear of the building where a huge concrete truck dock covers most of the wall. Decaying black cushions droop from the edges of twenty individual garage doors, all covered in graffiti and rust. Blix flies up to a normal ‘person door’ all the way at the right end, closest to the corner where I’m at. A faint click comes from the knob, after which, the imp grins.
I grab the chest-high concrete and pull myself up, hurrying around several empty boxes and a pallet jack. The door opens without making too much noise. I’m all too eager to get out of the sun, so I barge right in and pull the door shut behind me. The instant the door closes, my skin ceases burning. Cool air surrounds me along with my abilities coming online. Such a sudden change from inferno to pleasant cool costs me a few seconds involuntarily standing there in relieved paralysis.
Blix rasping snaps me out of it.
Of course the vampires who live here have blacked out all the windows or any other potential sources of light pollution. Though, simply being out of the daylight doesn’t let them wake up like I can. Yay for being special, right?
Sigh.
Blix zooms down a corridor and into a massive room full of machines bigger than some people’s houses. Voices and video game sound effects echo in the vast chamber. It’s a bit confusing to locate the sources based on the reverb, but I’m inclined to think three guys and a woman are somewhere to my right and a distance ahead.
Since I’m online, I float off my feet and glide for maximum quiet. Even sneakers make some noise on sand-strewn concrete. At the end of the first giant machine, I peek around the corner. Light comes from a hallway off to the right. Most likely, the mortal thralls are hanging out in a former employee lounge that they’ve no doubt updated with a big TV and a PlayStation or something.
“Go check on the brats,” says a guy.
“Hell no,” mutters another man. “Not doing that again.”
“The bleeding stopped, didn’t it?” asks the girl. “Besides, they didn’t get far.”
I narrow my eyes and give Blix a ‘what happened’ glare.
The thralls continue discussing whose job it is to obtain food and bring the boys something to have for dinner.
He pantomimes opening a door, running, then dives like a football player making a tackle.
“You tried to help them escape, but they got caught?”
Blix nods and points at the hallway where the sounds are coming from.
“Those people caught them.”
Thumbs-up.
“Thralls?”
He jabs his thumb higher.
Damn. That means I can’t mind control them. Being thralls, they’re still mortals. So I shouldn’t have too much trouble killing them. At least not literal trouble. Mental/emotional trouble… that’s a different story. If need be to protect Sam and the boys, sure. For pure spite or to make it easier to sneak, I can’t do it.
Blix flies over to the corridor and sits on a nearby water cooler, waving at me to follow him. Oh, crap. He’s kidding. I have to go past the room full of thralls? Dammit. At least I’m floating silently. I glide across the large manufacturing room, going over conveyor belts and around columns, taking as straight a line as possible.
When I reach the corridor, Blix leaps onto my shoulder like an oversized parrot and points. I keep going. The light and video game sounds come from a break room on the right side, about halfway between the factory floor and an L-bend to the left.
I pause by it and peek in.
The relatively large—probably former conference room—now holds a beat up plaid sofa, giant flat-screen TV, and five cot beds. Three guys and a woman occupy the couch, all focused on the video game. Perfect.
None of them react to me zooming past the door and around the L bend in the corridor. Blix leaps off my shoulder and flies ahead, heading straight for the double doors at the far end a good ways down, past numerous other side rooms. While no sound comes from any of the closed doors, they give off a tangible sense of presence that tells me I’m amid a nest of vampires. They’re all still trapped asleep by daylight, but one wrong move on my part might cause a cascade awakening in frenzied panic. That would be like jumping head first into a wood chipper.
Jaw clenched, I keep floating to the end of the corridor.
Both doors open on their own when the imp gets near them, revealing another manufacturing area. This one’s much smaller with tiny machines—only the size of cars—set up in neat rows interlinked by conveyor belts. Signs on the walls indicate clean suits are required here. Many try to be cute or humorous, portraying ‘dust’ as a growling monster that needs to be contained.
Within seconds of entering that room, I catch a whiff of sweaty socks, fart, and chocolate. Yep. Boys. The weaker scents of Sam, Ronan, Daryl, and Jordan lurk beneath the less pleasant aromas. Small whispering voices plot another escape attempt. Hearing them lights a fire at my butt. I fly over the machinery toward the voices, not caring if my brother’s friends see me breaking the law—of gravity. I’ve already stolen a truck tonight.
A wall of steel gridding blocks off the rear left corner of the manufacturing floor, some kind of security cage. Judging by the empty shelves inside, probably where the factory kept expensive parts for whatever they made. The boys are sitting on the floor in the middle of the locked area, arranged in a circle like they’d gone camping.
Sam, as ever, has a blasé look to him, as if this whole experience is no big deal. Ronan’s eyes are huge and he’s trembling. Daryl’s throwing off anger more than anything, and nursing a new fat lip. Grr. Jordan has his head in both hands, elbows on his knees, and his back to me.
I land before anyone sees me flying and rush up to the door.
“Sare!” whisper-shouts Sam, his expression brightening. “See, you guys? I told you she’d find us.”
21
Early Risers
The other three boys all jump to their feet.
“What’s she gonna do?” whispers Daryl, gesturing at me. “She’s just your big sister. We’ve been kidnapped by vampires.”
“Uhh, guys… there’s something you should know about Sarah,” says Sam.
“She likes girls?” asks Jordan.
“No, dork. She’s not gay.” Sam sighs. “You remember last June when people thought she died for a couple days?”
“Yeah,” mutters Daryl and Jordan at the same time.
Ronan stares at me with this ‘please don’t let us die’ expression.
I stare at my brother.
“What?” asks Sam, looking at me. “They’ve seen these vampires. And you’re just gonna make them forget it all anyway.”
“Wait, hang on there just a sec.” Daryl raises his hand, giving me side eye. “Your sister ain’t no damn vampire. Or she’d be dead to the world. Sun ain’t down yet.”
“Sam…” I rear back to stomp-kick the security cage door, but Blix gets in the way.
The imp points at his ears, then at the door out. Grr. Good point. If I bash that door open, the thralls will hear.
“Well, open it then,” I whisper.
Blix makes a finger gun and ‘shoots’ the cage door. The lock emits a clank.
“Ooh! It opened again.” Jordan points at the door.
Ronan moves up beside him. I swear those two boys could be brothers—or at least members of a tween band. Both are scrawny and blonde, except Jordan’s hair is short and he’s got blue eyes to Ronan’s green. Did I mention Sophia thinks Ronan’s cute? Yeah. There’s a reason I didn’t. I really don’t want to think about that.
“Come on. We gotta get out of here.” I pull the steel mesh door open, but it emits an ear-destroying squeak.
Blix face-palms.
The boys rush out. Eff it. I start running for the door, weaving among the conveyors and work stations… but the instant I hear multiple sets of footsteps in the hallway coming toward us, I’m airborne. Need to keep any violence as far away from the boys as I can.
/> Daryl and Jordan both gasp in awe.
“Holy crap! Your sister is… something,” blurts Daryl.
I land at the double-doorway out of the room right as they burst open. One of the mortal thralls stops short, gawking at me… clearly not expecting to see someone who isn’t a tween boy. He’s holding a crowbar like a sword, but doesn’t make a move to swing it at me. The other three aren’t too far behind him, running down the hall. As expected, his brain is hidden behind a wall of interference from the vampiric blood giving him power.
Time seems to slow to a near halt as my body kicks into fight mode.
I don’t want to straight up kill these people. For all I know, they’ve been enthralled against their will. But they look like gang members. They also locked my brother and his friends in a big cage. Second but—we need to get out of here now.
Sorry, bud.
Before he can recover from the shock of seeing me, I sprout claws and fangs, growling while trying to make my eyes glow red.
The two guys farther down the hall nearly fall over each other trying to stop and go back the other way, screaming ‘oh shit!’ repeatedly. Unfortunately, the woman merely slows to a walk and gives me a look like she found a lump of dog poo she’s responsible for cleaning up. The big dude in the doorway raises the crowbar and lunges forward, hacking down at me. He’s not too much faster than a human, which makes it easy to dodge aside. I take the merciful approach and merely punch him in the head rather than claw his throat out.
The crowbar clatters to the floor in front of me as the guy sails off his feet. He flies a good distance before landing on his chest, out cold. Might’ve cracked his skull a wee bit. But, hopefully, he’ll recover from that better than multiple gaping wounds. The woman pulls a gun.
Oh, hell no. I dive flat to the floor, grab the crowbar, and roll into a throw, aiming for the gun.
Unfortunately, the amount of practice I’ve had at crowbar throwing is pretty limited.
Like, this is the first time I’ve ever attempted to throw a crowbar at someone to disarm them.
I miss the gun by a few inches—up and to the right.
The crowbar spears into the woman’s gut, stopping when the hooked claw end makes contact with her hip. Oops. She staggers backward. I rush in and grab the crowbar in one hand, gun in the other, yanking the bar out of her while squeezing the wrist until she drops the weapon. Stupid bitch still takes a swing at me. I mostly get out of the way, but her knuckles graze my temple.
For no particular reason, a fluorescent light fixture falls off the ceiling and beans the woman across the head. It doesn’t knock her out completely, but it staggers her enough that the fight leaves her stare. She backpedals, clutching the hole in her gut where the crowbar had been.
The boys collect behind me.
“Gross,” whispers Jordan.
“Wow.” Ronan stares at me. “This is getting dangerous, isn’t it?”
“A little,” I mutter. “C’mon.”
I only make it one step past the doorway before another man comes zooming around the corner up ahead and runs at me. He’s got the same face/neck tats as the idiots who came after me in Seattle. The instant our stares meet, I know he’s a vampire, not a thrall. Crap to the power of ten. Either these guys set their alarm clocks early or I didn’t have enough damn time before sunset.
Crowbar isn’t going to help me much here. I chuck it over my shoulder and pop claws, hoping that none of these guys have them and might hesitate because of how much they hurt. Sure, it’s unlikely odds, but my chances of bluffing my way out of here are probably better than fighting all of these guys at once. “Back off. I’m taking my brother and his friends home… or I’m taking as many of you with me as I can.”
The vampire shakes his head. “Just had to get involved, didn’t you?”
“I wasn’t involved until you jackasses made me. This was between you guys and Dalton, but now, you’ve attacked my family.”
“So?” The guy raises an eyebrow. “Am I supposed to be scared of you?”
“Under normal circumstances, probably not. But I’m past caring what happens to me. You wanna take on a vampire willing to do as much damage as possible before they die? Bring it. Sure, I might lose. But, ask yourself… are these four boys worth spending the next six months in agony?”
Unfortunately, the vampire decides to bring it.
He hurls himself into a charge, pulling a knife off his belt on the way. I manage to evade his first stabbing attack, but he came in with a lot more speed than the thralls. This guy’s a little faster than me but not by a whole lot.
The boys scramble behind the nearest conveyor for cover… except for Sam. He runs out to grab the crowbar I dropped.
Growling, the vampire lunges again in a series of slashing and stabbing attacks. His greater speed forces me to give ground while dodging, backing up a step or two each time I duck. There’s no opportunity for getting in an attack. Oh screw it. It’s just a knife.
I abruptly reverse, rushing him when he goes to slash me again. My metaphorical balls cost me a gash on the left arm but I land eight claws on his chest and shred downward, reducing his shirt—and most of the skin under it—to a ruin of tattered bloody ribbons. He howls, gasping at the pain he obviously hadn’t expected. That gives me an opening to jam my hand into his gut and randomly grab. Hey it worked for Aurélie, right?
He throws his head back and screams in anguish, then clocks me across the face with his knife hand. I fly sideways into a dried-out water cooler near the doorway, crushing it. The empty plastic bottle bounces off into the room, emitting a hollow drum-like rattle.
The vampire storms after me, but wipes out hard, eating floor. He went down so fast it looked like another vampire swept his legs out from under him. That has Blix written all over it. The fall gives me a chance to get back on my feet before the guy’s on top of me. We spring up at the same time.
“Such a bitch,” he growls.
“I warned you. No one fucks with my family.”
Sam gasps.
Yeah, yeah. I know. Mom’s gonna be mad at me for cursing.
El Douchey comes after me again with the knife. I try to twist under it, but he’s still a bit too fast and manages to stab me in the shoulder. Hurts, but not as much as claws—or a shot to the heart. Snarling, I grab his right bicep in both hands and rip my claws down the arm to the wrist, digging them in with all the strength I can give myself. A few of my nails scrape bone.
The dude shrieks like the blonde bimbo from a horror movie and staggers back, gawking at his twitching, useless right arm. Okay, that is seriously, seriously gross. It looks like one of those 1960s bead curtains made out of meat strips. However, instead of freaking out and leaving, he goes into this insane rage and flies at me, grabbing a fistful of my sweatshirt, pushing me back into the wall.
His useless arm dangling, he pins me in place with one hand and extends his fangs. Of course, being close to an angry vampire with claws is the last place he should be. I grab for his face, slicing my three-inch nails into his cheeks and throat.
Sam runs out from hiding and charges up behind the guy, walloping him in the back of the knee with the crowbar. “Get off my sister, creep!”
Hot blood rolls over my fingers, gushing out of the ruin of this dude’s throat. He’s still too strong for me to throw off, so I keep on ripping.
Another guy with face tats stumble-runs in, a bit of grogginess to him from a sudden wake-up. This guy’s carrying a katana. He spots me shredding Moron One and hurries over to chop my arms off, but doesn’t get far before his foot flies out from under him and he fumbles the sword. The katana hits the concrete floor with a loud metal clank, and somehow—in absolute defiance of physics—bounces away from him multiple times like a rubber ball.
The man holding me roars when Sam whacks him in the other knee. He lets go of my shirt and spins on my brother, hiss-growling past his fangs.
Sam holds his ground defiantly, not even the slightest look
of fear in his eyes—and tries to nail the guy in the balls with an upswing. The vampire catches the crowbar, stopping it cold. Blix dashes over to the katana, swoops down to grab it, then flies toward me. Growling, the sword’s former owner floats back to his feet, but stops short staring in confusion at the sword apparently moving on its own. Or maybe he can see Blix and has no damn idea what he’s looking at.
The vamp I’ve mostly shredded grabs Sam by the throat with his one usable arm. My brother starts pulling a Gordon Freeman on him, swinging the crowbar so damn fast it’s a blur. Alas, a ten-year-old doesn’t quite have the arm strength to crack a vampire’s skull with a crowbar, especially when taking such rapid, unfocused swings.
I leap at him, nabbing the katana from Blix on the way and swinging at the guy holding Sam. My attack slices into his leg, stopping against his right femur with a dull crack. He emits a growl of pain and sinks down on one knee, groaning, still holding Sam by the neck. The other boys pop up over the conveyor belt and start throwing smallish metal objects at the vampire while shouting at him to let go.
The gang thug who lost the katana rushes at me. One of the metal rods that the boys threw abruptly swivels around all by itself and gets under the guy’s foot, tripping him again. Thank you Blix. Sam continues bashing the guy holding him over the head.
“You little shit,” snarls the guy.
Sensing he’s about to snap my brother’s neck, I let out a war cry and hack at the arm. The other vampire launches himself at me like an undead meat torpedo, flying into me from the side at the same instant my blade slices his buddy’s arm clean off at the elbow (more or less). Sam scrambles back, the severed limb hanging from his throat like a macabre necktie.
Sam peers down at it. “That’s rather disturbing.”
Vampire Two fly-carries me most of the way across the room. We crash against the wall—the bastard using me as a cushion—hard enough to crack cinder blocks and break a few of my ribs. Fortunately, I only pretend to breathe, so I don’t have the wind knocked out of me. The hit causes him to bounce away, though he lands on his feet and grabs my hand.
Ordinary Problems of a College Vampire (Vampire Innocent Book 7) Page 24
