The Black Knight Chronicles

by John G. Hartness

  That gesture froze in mid-swoop as he caught sight of King and Krysta squaring off in the lobby. In the middle of a giant atrium of marble and glass, the werewolf and my vampire mommy looked like a couple of prizefighters circling, looking for the right moment to strike. Krysta had the lobby guard by the throat, using his body as a shield, and King was circling her, trying to get a good shot. He had his AR-15 at his shoulder, and the assault rifle looked like a toy in the hands of the seven-foot werewolf.

  “It seems your friend has found his quarry, Black,” Tiram said from beside me. “Unfortunately for him, she is under my protection as a visiting vampire to our fair city. Should she come to any harm, I would be forced to respond with extreme retribution.”

  “In English, please. It’s been a long damn night.”

  “According to the ancient treaties of vampiric territory and hospitality, if your wolf friend kills Krysta while she’s under my protection, I’ll be forced to kill him and anyone that tries to help him.”

  “Yeah, that’s what I thought you said,” I said, heading toward King. “Greg, get Emily out of here. Abby, go find us some transportation. It needs to seat at least six. Sabrina, cover me. Tiram—”

  “I will do as I will, Mr. Black,” the Master Vampire snapped.

  “Fine, just don’t get in my way while I clean up your mess. Let me deal with King.” I turned to face the Master, and he held up both hands with a slight smile on his face. I knew there was more going on here than he was admitting to where Krysta was concerned, and it was really pissing me off. Out of the corner of one eye, I saw Greg pull Emily from behind the guard’s desk and hustle her out the front doors. Abby was long gone, and with Greg keeping Emily safe, I could concentrate on the big furry problem at hand.

  “I wouldn’t dream of interfering.” Tiram leaned against the wall beside the elevators, arms folded, as I headed toward King.

  “King, what’s going on?” I asked, as I came into his peripheral vision.

  “What does it look like, Jimmy? I’m going to kill this bloodsucking bitch.” He never took his eyes off Krysta, who kept an equally sharp focus on King.

  The guard looked at me as if I were Santa Claus, the Tooth Faerie, and Jesus Christ all rolled into one. Yet he was the one I was least likely to save. At least he wasn’t likely to have to live with the disappointment.

  “I can’t let you kill her, King. She’s under the Master’s protection.”

  “So you’re working for the Chief High Bloodsucker now? Can’t say as I’m surprised. All you bloodsucking assholes stick together anyway.”

  “I’m not working for him, you dick. I’m trying to save your life. If you kill her, Tiram kills you. And I don’t let my friends die on my watch.”

  “Then don’t worry about me. I’m not your friend.”

  “Fine, but I’m still not going to let you get yourself killed on my watch.” I stepped directly into the line of fire and held up both hands so he’d see that I was unarmed.

  I didn’t expect him to believe it, of course, but not holding a weapon at that second was the closest he was going to come to me being unarmed. I had a Glock 17 in the back waistband of my pants and a magical sword hanging off my belt. I wasn’t sure I’d be able to take King if it really came down to it. I knew I didn’t have any silver ammo, but I wasn’t sure what he’d loaded up with, and I didn’t want to think about the damage he could do with the bowie knife on his belt. In my hands, it would be a short sword. In King’s, it was more like a toothpick. But the rifle was my first concern, mostly because it was pointed right at my face.

  King took a couple of steps forward. I took a couple in the other direction to counter, but I heard Krysta whisper from behind me. “Don’t get too close, or he’ll shoot through you to kill me.”

  “Stop right there, Kyle. I don’t want to hurt you. But I’m not going to let you murder her.”

  He lowered the rifle an inch or two and looked at me as if I were nuts. That seemed to be the look I was getting the most this week.

  “Putting that monster down won’t be murder, Jimmy. It’ll be public service.” He raised the gun again as he spoke.

  I drew my pistol and aimed it at his left knee. “I don’t have any ammo that will kill you, Kyle, but I bet putting a round through that kneecap won’t be much fun if it’s silver or lead. Now lower the weapon.”

  He lowered it, but asked, “Why are you protecting her? You just shot, slashed, and stomped your way through a bloodbath of biblical proportions, and now you’ve got a conscience? Is this some kind of vampire unity thing? Am I going to have to kill you, too? Because she dies tonight. Or I do. There’s no third option.”

  “There’s always another option, King.”

  “Not for me. She killed my wife. She dies. End of story.”

  “Is this what your wife would want you to be doing? Come on, man. Let’s go get a beer, talk about women and forget this crazy bitch.”

  “You go get a beer. I’ve got killing to do.”

  I looked up into his yellow eyes and saw the pain there. Tears welled up, and he reached one paw over to dash them away. I snatched away the rifle, bent the barrel and tossed it across the lobby. King’s hand flew to his bowie knife, but I caught his wrist before he drew it.

  “No,” I said. “You know it’s worth your life if you hurt her while she’s under Tiram’s protection.”

  King looked down at me with a face full of anguish. I could almost see his dead wife’s face in his eyes. “You act like I care, boy. You don’t know loss. You don’t know pain. You don’t know anything. Now get out of my way.”

  “I know I’m not letting a good man kill himself for revenge. I know you miss her, but this is not the way. Now pull in the fangs. We’re leaving. Now.”

  “I’m not,” King said through clenched teeth. Then he punched me in the gut with his other hand, and I flew a good three feet before I hit the floor.

  I shook my head to clear the cobwebs then stood up, facing King. “Ouch. Look. There is no more killing people tonight, no matter how much they deserve it. And if you have a problem with that, then we should deal with it right now.” I pulled a pair of knives from my arm sheaths.

  “So be it, Jimmy. Hate it had to go this way, but that bitch dies tonight, and anyone in my way dies with her.” He drew that massive bowie knife and let out a roar that shook the windows.

  We charged.

  Everything I knew about knife fights I had learned watching Jackie Chan movies and Deadliest Warrior reruns. By the way he swung his giant toothpick at my head, King had a little more practical experience. So I figured I’d have to do what I always did when I was outclassed in a fight—cheat. As the werewolf charged, I did the most counterintuitive thing in the world. I threw away one of my weapons. Of course, I threw it right at King, so there was a point to it.

  Pun totally intended. The knife sank hilt-deep into the werewolf’s shoulder, and he paused for about half a step to yank it out and toss it aside. I waited until he was almost on top of me, then jumped straight up into the air, using my height and vamp-strength to my advantage. King slashed at my feet, but I was a dozen feet in the air and climbing by the time he got to me. I twisted around in midair and came down behind the wolf-man, who ignored me and kept charging straight for Krysta.

  Krysta responded just as I expected, by throwing the guard at King and running for the hills. “Way to help yourself out, lady!”

  “I don’t fight dogs!” Krysta yelled back at me from her new hiding place behind an ATM.

  I tossed my other knife at King’s furry back, and he drew up short as the new blade sank to the hilt in his muscled flesh. King caught the guard and set him down before turning to deal with me.

  “I guess we’re going to have to resolve this little disagreement before I move on to the main event,” he growled.

  “Gotta get through the undercard first, Rocky.” I drew my sword and hoped it wouldn’t turn King to dust if I cut him with it.

  “I d
on’t want to hurt you, Jimmy.”

  I’d noticed that people only said things like that when they intended to hurt me quite badly. “And I don’t want to get hurt, so why don’t we just call this off and grab a beer?” I gestured toward the street outside. “There’s a great brewery just a couple blocks from here. You’d have to de-fur, though. I think they have a no pets rule.”

  King just snarled and charged me again, leaping the last ten feet to block my jump. I stood there, waiting for him to land, then stepped to the side as soon as he got to me, slashing toward his right hamstring with my sword. He twisted at the last second and caught my blade on his, twisting my sword aside and leaving me open. With his left hand, he landed a shot to my jaw that spun me completely around and made my ears ring. I recovered quickly enough to drop to the ground and slash at his ankles, but he hopped over my attack easily and kicked me in the jaw on the way up.

  I flopped onto my back and sprawled on the cold marble floor, dropping my sword in the process.

  King landed nimbly in front of me and sneered down at me. “Not used to fighting someone who’s as fast and strong as you are, vampire?”

  “Not used to fighting someone who smells like a wet cocker spaniel, furball.” I spat a little blood out along with the wisecrack, then quickly scrambled out of the way as the big bowie knife slammed into the floor where I’d been lying. I picked up my sword as I rolled over it, came up behind King and drove the mystical blade through the back of one leg. He howled in pain and swept a huge furred arm across my chest. I flew about eight feet before landing flat on my back again, this time cracking my skull on the floor.

  After a couple of seconds, the stars cleared from my vision enough for me to see King limping toward me, bowie knife in one hand and my sword in the other. Sabrina stepped out from behind a desk by the elevators and fired three quick shots at the wolf-man, but he just winced and staggered. He didn’t fall. I tried to stand, but a wave of dizziness took over, and I went back down on one knee.

  King got to where I was kneeling and tossed my sword aside to snatch me up by the collar of my jacket. The sudden motion made the room spin again as he held me high over his head and drew back for a finishing blow with his bowie knife. The combination of the spinning room and the pain from my other injuries left me with only one move, so I used it.

  Just as King slashed forward to gut me with his pig-sticker, I puked square in his face. A fountain of blood from dinner earlier cascaded into his eyes, nose and open mouth. The werewolf dropped me straight down onto my face as he tried to wipe the blood from his eyes. I lay there for a second or two listening to the werewolf curse before I got enough equilibrium back to stand up fast. I landed an uppercut to King’s testicles on the way.

  The big wolf collapsed, wiping his face with one paw and holding his crushed groin with the other. As he went down, I put my right kneecap through his nose. His head hit the stone with a sickening crack, and his eyes rolled back in his head. The bowie knife skittered across the lobby. After a couple of seconds, I heard a slow, sarcastic clapping and looked up to see Tiram walking slowly toward me.

  “Well done, James. I thought the part where you vomited on your opponent was truly inspired.” He offered me a handkerchief. I wiped the blood from my lips and passed it back to him. “Keep it,” he said with a small hand gesture.

  “Thanks. I came up with that move all on my own. We gonna fight now? ’Cause if so, you win.”

  I put the handkerchief in a back pocket and walked over to where Krysta had been watching the fight. She’d obviously decided that hanging around the superior firepower was a good move, because I found her holed up behind the guard station with Sabrina and all the guns.

  “My hero,” she gushed, throwing her arms around my neck in mock gratitude.

  I pushed her away, in not mock disgust. “Lay off. I hooked up with you before. It didn’t end well. Why didn’t you run?”

  “It needed to end, one way or the other. Now that you’ve beaten him, I’ll drain him, and we’ll be done with this silliness once and for all.”

  She started toward where King lay helpless, and I caught her arm. She struggled for a minute until Sabrina tapped her on the shoulder with a shotgun and raised one eyebrow meaningfully. Apparently, there had been a conversation while all the fighting was going on.

  “I said nobody else dies tonight, and I meant it. Now, we’re leaving, and you’re leaving town. If I ever see you again, or even hear about you turning anyone else in my city, you’re dust.” I held out a hand for Sabrina, and we started for the door.

  “Your city, James?” Tiram asked. “If I didn’t know better, I’d think that sounded like a power play on your part.”

  Chapter 27

  I turned and walked over to the Master of the City, picking up my sword along the way. The faerie blade glowed with a blue-white light as I approached Tiram, and I saw that flicker in his eyes again.

  “I don’t care how it sounds, Tiram. This is the deal. She has until midnight tomorrow night to get the hell out of Charlotte. After that, if I ever see her, smell her or hear rumor of her anywhere near this town, I’ll stake her myself. This is a one-time pass, a limited-time offer. And if you don’t like that, we can dance right now.”

  I was bluffing, of course. Tiram could take me on my best day, and my best day would always be one that didn’t include a fistfight with a werewolf. The only real card I had was the sword in my hand, and by the way Tiram was focused on the glow coming from it, it was the ace I needed.

  The Master looked at me with a little smile, the way a parent looks at their ten-year-old who’s just made a perfectly logical argument for having ice cream for breakfast. He stared at me for a long moment, then surveyed the lobby. King was starting to come around, Sabrina was still packing a shotgun and at least one pistol, and Greg had come back into the building once it was safe for Emily.

  Krysta shot the Master a look of appeal, but he shrugged and finally said, “As you wish, James. Krysta, my hospitality is hereby revoked. You are forbidden to remain in my city past midnight tomorrow, and you may never return under pain of death.” He looked back at me. “Happy?”

  “Thrilled. And Tiram? Next time you bring somebody in from outside the territory to settle your scores for you, don’t make it be Krysta.” I replied, turning and heading back to the door.

  “Well done, James. You figured it out. I brought Krysta in to start the fight with Wideham because I knew you’d find her, and you couldn’t resist if she were involved. Nice work. You may grow up to be a detective yet.”

  I sketched a little bow, came up with one finger pointed to the sky in Tiram’s direction and turned for the door.

  I made it about halfway across the lobby before Krysta got up the nerve to charge me, screaming like a banshee. I braced for another fight, but before I had a chance to slug my maker in the face a few times, she was tackled by a blonde streak that moved faster than any vampire I’d ever seen, including Tiram.

  Abby drove a shoulder into Krysta’s gut and kept right on going, running full speed into an elevator with the elder vampire taking all the force of the impact. Then, she unleashed a savage beating on her vamp-mother. It was no hair-pulling, eye-gouging chick fight. It was vampire claws, fangs and superhuman speed. Krysta looked like a frog in a blender as Abby rained punch after punch on her face, then commenced to banging her head against the polished marble floor. Less than a minute into the fight, Krysta was out cold, and Abby was up and headed to where King had rolled to one side to watch the carnage.

  “Move,” she snarled at the werewolf, and he scooted quickly out of her way. She picked up the bowie knife where King had dropped it, and raced back to where Krysta lay moaning, both legs broken and probably her skull as well.

  I dashed to intercept Abby, but she stiff-armed me into a wall, and I sat down hard, seeing little birds and stars for about the fifth time that night.

  Abby stalked over to Krysta, stood over her and said, “This is where Jim
my would say something annoying, but I don’t care enough to come up with a joke.”

  She grabbed the vampiress by the hair with her left hand, pulled her into a sitting position and cut off her head. A black mist billowed out of her neck wound like a cloud of angry insects, coalescing around Abby for a moment before dissipating through the air.

  Son of a bitch. My vamp-mom was possessed by a Sluagh.

  Abby dropped the head a couple of feet away from the body, tossed the knife to land near King and walked toward the front door.

  “I have an Escalade. It seats seven. Let’s go.”

  She didn’t look back at any of us as she headed out the door, and we all just watched her go. After a couple of seconds, Greg and Emily followed her wordlessly out to the waiting car, leaving me alone in the lobby with my almost-girlfriend, the Master of the City, and a werewolf that I’d beaten half to death. I wasn’t sure which one of them I was more afraid of.

  Sabrina came over to where I lay on my back on the marble floor and knelt down. “You okay?”

  I got almost all the way up into a sitting position, then winced as I felt something slide back into its original anatomical location. “No. I mean, yeah. I mean . . . crap. Lemme try that again. Nothing’s seriously broken, but the cold marble feels really good on all the hurt spots. You know what I mean?”

  “Yeah. Where does it hurt?”

  “I don’t think my left pinky toe hurts. And my lips. And my right ear. Everything else is pretty well beat to shit.”

  She leaned in and kissed me, and I felt a lot better. “I knew you’d come for me.”

  “I always will. You’re . . . I . . . I suck at this, sorry.”

  “You haven’t had a whole lot of practice.” She smiled a little. “Neither have I.”

  “Can we figure it out together? Might be a lot of fun trying.”