by David Page
His vision changed as different spectrums of light became visible to him. He heard the beating heart of the guard outside his door as if his ear was pressed against the man’s chest. He latched onto his powers like a leech, siphoning all the energies he could squeeze through the still miniscule opening. He felt lighter, stronger.
Mist trickled out from the rubble pile behind him.
His senses expanded until he could hear the men talking in the room fifty feet down the hall. He tasted their anxieties and fears. He spread his arms wide and breathed deeply. Humans had reduced his kind to the lowest sentient beings on the planet. He had been humiliated, beaten, stabbed, shot, harassed, taunted, and even buried alive. No more.
“Who are you?” A dark voice echoed through the room.
Richard spun in a complete circle, but there was no one there.
“Who…are you…. I’m so hungry…so hungry…” Desperation tinged the voice.
Richard understood, suddenly, that the voice was inside his own head. The darkness, the despair, the death he had sensed every time he had crossed through the old storefront on the way into the labyrinth of underground passages was not what he had thought. No one had died there and the feeling was not from dead dogs as Nash had suggested. There was a very old and twisted vampire buried in or near that room. Richard shivered as the malevolence of the creature washed over him. It was pure evil. He shoved the voice from his mind, shielding it as he had done to keep out other vampires in the past. So, Nash and the others had lied to him about that too.
He refocused his attention on Questor, his anger returning in a hot flood.
The mist floated down from the rocks and curled along the floor. The hole in his shield halted its outward progress, but for the moment it remained frozen in place. Richard let the energy flow into his body. He turned slowly towards the camera and flashed his fangs.
“Questor Corporation!” They couldn’t see him, but he said it loud enough for anyone listening to the security cameras to hear.
The hair on his arms stood on end as strength vibrated through him. The fog filled the room now, so thick that he could barely see the door. His vampire senses held fast and he heard a distant alarm bell sound. They had gotten his message. His smile widened as he stepped forwards into action.
He crossed the room faster than he had moved in ten years and grabbed the iron handle with one hand and the edge of the door with the other. The metal shrieked as he tore it off its hinges. It clanged as it hit the cement floor next to his computer. In the distance, there were frantic cries mixed with the clicking of guns being readied.
Richard knew that one of Jack’s black clad men stood to the right of the door. He could hear the man’s steady breathing, could feel his heart pulsing on the very air. The man reacted to the door being ripped from its casing as if he were in slow motion. Richard sensed the guard’s heart rate lurch as he turned towards him and reached for his pistol. Richard shot out of the room with fantastic speed, pulling fog along behind him. He grabbed the man’s nine-millimeter automatic from his belt holster, just as the man’s hand brushed its handle, and tossed it to the side. The man gasped, looking down at his now missing gun. Richard backhanded him, sending him spiraling through the air. He crashed to the floor several feet down the corridor and remained unmoving.
Richard retrieved the pistol, tucked it into his belt, and then glided down the hallway, the mist flowing around him like a billowing robe. He froze at the sudden smell of fresh blood. The unconscious guard lay beside him now. The man’s heartbeat pounded in Richard’s ears begging to be stilled. A wave of dizziness over took him. It had been so long…. The man’s blood was fresh and healthy. He shook himself. He did not drink unless offered. He staggered back, shaking his head in an attempt to clear it of the bloodlust.
“This way!” Jack’s voice was close, just one section ahead.
Richard looked up and snarled at the closed pressure door at the end of the hallway. They were coming. He stepped back against the red-bricked wall, shying away from the dim fluorescents as he tried to lose himself in the vapor. The metal squeaked as the door opened. Three men appeared in the opening, their guns leveled.
Their fear smelled like food to a starving man. Richard licked his fangs. He had to stay focused long enough to get out of there. He poured the fog around them, obscuring their vision.
“Richard! This isn’t going to work, with or without your powers!” Jack barked.
Richard detected the body heat of the three men. He could smell the gun oil on their pistols and see the outlines of their infrared goggles. Behind them Jack stood with his weapon ready.
“I am leaving, Jack.” Richard sped forwards in the blur of an eye.
He dove over them, rolled in midair and landed on his feet behind them. He grabbed Jack, pushed him into the others and hurled the lot of them through the door into the hallway from which he had just come. He pulled the door closed, slammed home the iron latch and bent it with ease, effectively sealing it shut.
Richard could hear the squawk of Jack’s radio. “He’s through. Unit two move in!”
The mist was not as thick here. Richard had lost much of it when he had entered this new passageway. As he continued forward through the brick passage, he called more fog out of the walls and up from the dirt beneath his feet. There were more lights here, making it harder for him to disappear.
Two more masked soldiers, followed by Ringo, darted around the corner ahead of him. They brought automatic rifles up and laser-sighting dots appeared on Richard’s chest.
“That’s enough!” Ringo ordered.
“I don’t think so.”
Gun muzzles flashed discharging multiple bullets in his direction. Bits of brick and mortar blasted apart sending a cloud of debris into the air, adding to the building fog. Richard leapt straight up, latching onto an old water pipe and hung upside down. He shimmied across and was nearly above them when they realized that he was no longer standing in the hall.
“Who are you?” The dark voice interrupted him, breaking through his mental defenses for a moment.
As Richard paused to shake away the other vampire’s mind, one of the mercenaries looked up. “Look out!” He fired frantically.
Richard dropped from the ceiling. Bullets ricocheted off the thick pipe. The second man reacted swiftly to his comrade’s warning, bringing his rifle up in time to aim it at Richard. Fiery pain stabbed Richard’s abdomen as several bullets burrowed into his stomach. He fell on the men, his adrenalin and his vampiric strength allowing him to ignore the wounds. He caught them by the shoulders and slammed them together. Their heads cracked. Their eyes rolled up into their sockets and they crumpled to the ground unconscious. Ringo fell back, dropped his rifle, and had a pistol in his hand with surprising swiftness.
Richard gripped his gun arm, turned it away with ease and knocked the gun across the room. He got to his feet, trying to pull Ringo with him but everything slowed. He deflated like a burst balloon as his power winked out.
“No!” He senses collapsed, as did the presence of the other vampire’s mind. He was alone with Ringo. His stomach burned and it was all he could to remain standing.
Ringo launched himself from the ground, catching Richard around the waist with his muscular arms and bearing him back down the hallway. The man was a trained professional. Richard knew he was no match for him, not now. As he soared backwards under the man’s weight and strength, he desperately tried to reach his powers, but it was no use. The world spun horizontally.
Richard’s warrior’s instincts took over. He folded one leg, managing to get his foot pressed into the Ringo’s hip as they hit the ground. He gripped the bigger man’s shoulders and pulled back with the energy of their momentum as they hit the ground, rolling on his back, and pushing out with his leg. As he had hoped, Ringo over compensated and went flying above and past him, propelled by his own force and a little help from Richard.
Richard did not wait for him to get up. He rolled o
nto his side and propped himself into a crouch pulling the stolen pistol from his belt. The safety was already off and a round chambered. He aimed it at Ringo’s head as he came up onto one knee. They both froze for a moment. Ringo’s steel eyes glared with unconcealed rage.
Richard slowly got to his feet, the bigger man mimicking his movements, and backed towards the other door. More booted feet scrapped on the dirt floor behind him. He knew he could never get out now, but he still had a hostage.
The men skidded to a halt behind him. “Stop!”
“Stay where you are or I will shoot.” Richard did not take his eyes from his hostage.
“Go ahead. Do it.” Ringo smiled like a shark, revealing his own impressively sharp teeth. “I dare you.”
“I don’t want to kill him you, but I will if I must!”
The metal screeched as the door behind Ringo burst open. Jack and two of his men entered the room fanning out to fill the hallway and raising their weapons. Jack slung his rifle over his shoulder and stepped up next to Ringo.
“You can’t do this, Richard. You have nowhere to run even if you could get out of here.”
Richard did not move. “Perhaps I no longer wish to go anywhere. Perhaps I wish to die rather than live as a pawn in whatever game Questor is playing.”
Jack nodded. “So, it’s true. You know.”
“We do work for Questor, Richard, but that does not change the fact that we want to help you.” It was Nash’s voice from behind him. Richard did not turn to look, still aiming for Ringo’s forehead.
“You plan to use me as your lab rat. You have no intention of helping me.” Richard gripped the gun so tightly that his knuckles hurt.
“I don’t see why we can’t do both. You help us, we’ll help you.” Nash sounded reasonable, but then he always did.
Beth slowly entered through the door behind Jack and his men.
“Put the gun down, Richard. You can trust us; you can trust me. Let us help you.” She pulled at her cross nervously, turning it over in her fingers as she stared at him, her eyes pleading him to do as she asked.
The cross glinted in the dry light of the fluorescents. Richard grew dizzy and his vision darkened at the corners of his eyes. His knees buckled. Ringo lunged forward, grabbing his arm and pushing it up towards the ceiling. Richard squeezed the trigger.
Jack grabbed him from the side and together they bore him to the ground but the blackness overtook him before he got there….
21
Branches slapped at Richard as he plunged through the dark forest. Held in front of his face for protection, his forearms were a mass of red welts. Blood pounded in his ears and his heart thumped so loudly he thought it would burst from his chest. Besides the sounds of his heavy, panicked breathing, the forest was deadly calm and completely silent. Mist cloaked the ground making it difficult for him to watch his footing. Twice he had nearly fallen, once twisting his ankle and sending jolts of pain up his leg. Somehow, he had remained upright, though he now ran with a limp. He had to keep moving. Colette was back there somewhere.
A cool breeze whipped past.
“Richard.” Colette’s voice sounded as if she were right next to him.
He spun around, but saw only shadows. He clipped a low branch with his shoulder and dropped to the ground, his fingers sinking into the soft earth as he caught himself from falling upon his face. He rolled, sprang unsteadily to his feet and kept going. He left his sword sheathed, knowing from Terrence’s example that the blade would prove useless.
“What do you want?” His voice was barely a whisper, but he knew she heard.
“You,” she whispered in his ear.
Richard shouted in surprise, spinning towards her only to find empty air. “Stop toying with me!” He felt as he was the game in a hunt.
Colette’s shadowy outline appeared in the middle of the widening trail a short distance ahead. She spread her arms wide; stretching what was left of her tattered dress across her flawless form. Red lights blazed where her eyes should have been, tiny fires in the dark boring into him.
“Was saving your life a game? Those men who called you friend would have slain you just as those who killed your entourage when I first found you.” Her voice was barely a whisper, yet he could hear her still.
“Why did you save me?” He backed against a tree, never taking his eyes from her. If he were to be her next victim, he would not go easily.
“I love you.”
The breeze shifted, stirring the fog from the ground and obscuring her from sight. Richard held his breath and drew his sword, knowing that it was in vain. Iron hands seized him from the side, wrenching the blade from his grip and tossing it aside so fast that he barely had time to cry out. Colette stood before him, holding his wrists. He struggled, but he might as well have been trying to bend the trunk of a tree. He sighed finally and met her eyes. They were their normal deep green again.
“How can a demon know love?”
Her eyes flashed from red to green, but it was hurt he saw in her soft features rather than anger. “I am the woman I was when I died three hundred years ago. That woman had passion and a need for love, a need to be loved.” She lowered her eyes.
“What are you?” Richard forced himself to breathe. He was not going to get out of this by fighting. If he could convince her to let him go…his stomach knotted at the thought of leaving. He realized that a part of him did not wish to go.
This demon had saved his life and in doing so had touched a lust within him that he had never known was there. Even now he felt the pull of her body through his haze of fear and doubt. He wanted her as much as she obviously wanted him.
She looked up into his eyes again. “I am a creature of the night, a creature of darkness, and a creature of desire. It is true that I need blood to survive, but I also need love. How can I be evil if I am capable of such emotion?” Her eyes grew larger, darker, and deeper. Richard wondered if they could swallow his soul.
“I could take you with ease; make love to you on a whim, bleed you dry…” She forced his arms apart and pressed herself against him and brought her mouth to his ear. “I have looked into your heart, Richard Saxon, and seen a man of equal passion for life, a man of honor, a man whose love I must have. I know you love me Richard. I can feel it. Let me love you back….please.” She released him but remained mere inches away.
Richard rubbed his wrists one at a time, trying his best to ignore the heat that flowed from her; the heat he yearned to touch yet again. She shifted in such a way as to accent her breasts where her dress had torn away. He gasped, unable to look away.
“I offer you a love unmatched by any mortal. The love rises off you in waves, Richard. Give in to your feelings, let me love you.” She leaned forward.
A thrilling jolt of pleasure wracked his body. He met her eyes and found himself encircling her waist with his arms. He pulled her to him, bent down and pressed his lips against hers.
“I do love you.”
Time twisted around them as they sank to the soft carpet of moss.
***
“I love you too,” a gruff voice replied.
Cold water splashed Richard’s face. He jerked fully awake, blinking to clear the cobwebs and the memories of Colette from his mind. He was no longer in the forest or in the past. He focused on his surroundings and found himself on his back on a cold metal operating table. His hands and feet were strapped in place. Two empty, metal chairs faced him. Nothing adorned the cement walls, giving the place the look of a fallout shelter. A surgical cart with various instruments, scalpels, and syringes among them, had been positioned on his left side.
Two bloody bullets lay on the cart next to a pair of forceps. His abdomen ached as he remembered his failed escape attempt. He could not reach under his shirt to feel, but he knew that his wounds had nearly healed. He would be sore for a few days, but they posed no threat to him. It was fortunate that Nash and his men had not used silver bullets. They really did want him alive; at least for n
ow.
Jack stood over him, an empty glass in one hand, a sarcastic smirk on his face. He wore a pair of black cargo pants and a black sweatshirt, allowing him to blend into the darkness, no doubt. Behind him, a sliding metal warehouse door stood closed.
“Why am I restrained?” Richard struggled against the wrist cuffs, trying at the same time to penetrate the viral shield and call forth his powers. He felt the veins bulging in his neck and his face flushed, but his effort produced little effect. After a moment, he gave up. He was stuck like a fly on paper, just as he had been a decade before when Frederick had first collared him with the tracking bracelet.
“You messed up some of my men.” Jack placed the empty glass on the surgical cart and then snickered.
Richard remained still. If only he had held onto his powers for a few minutes longer he might have escaped. With his vampire abilities, he could easily have gained the antidote from his former slaver and freed himself from all of them. A fiery jet of anger raged through him. He had been so close.
“Did you hear me?” Jack grabbed his chin and turned his head so he was facing him.
Richard resisted the urge to spit, but could not hold his tongue. “It is fortunate for you that I chose to restrain myself or they would be dead.”
“You son of a bitch!” Jack raised his fist to strike.
“Stop!” Nash stood in the open doorway, Ringo a step behind, unaffected by wear from their fight.
“Sure, doc.” Jack slowly opened his fist.
“Good.” Nash fixed him with a withering look, and then strode into the room, stopping next to Richard. He looked down. “I’ve removed the bullets, as I’m sure you’ve noticed, though they would have been expelled by your increased healing abilities over time.”
