Breed: Slayer

by Sandra Seymour

  I hang around for a couple of hours as night falls, then scan the red-light district and the local nightlife. There’s no sign of Howard, but I don’t expect there to be. In fact, there are no signs of any vampire activity. Even in the seediest cattle market, I’m not picking up anything other than lust and drunken optimism. It doesn’t look as if any of them have slipped through The Breed’s net. The city has never been so clean.

  I wind my way round the back streets, dragging my feet. Eventually, I head back out of town to where I know I will find Howard. I land softly on the rooftop and glance around, taking in the feel of the place. It reeks of petty malevolence and inadequate sanitation, with a strong undercurrent of fear and despair.

  I tense and realise that things are all wrong. All the wrong noises are coming from all the wrong places. A soft plop and scrape behind me, followed a few seconds later by two more. That would be Nell, followed by Jax and Dillon and, yes, there it is, the louder clatter as Vinnie follows. Thankfully, Sam would never be able to make the jump from the outer wall to the inner buildings. Few living things could. That was kind of the point, wasn’t it?

  Then I sense the presence of the unnatural. Damn. He is here. Of course he is. I knew I should have come here first.

  “Good call,” Nell purrs as she draws in beside me.

  “Yeah,” Jax’s lilting voice makes everything sound like the opening line to a song, “I’d never have thought of it. Nice one, Max.”

  That’s great. I’ve led them straight to him in my attempt to protect him. What an idiot.

  “Let’s go then,” Vinnie, eager as ever, makes the first move, lurching from one rooftop to another, followed by Nell, and then Jax.

  “Careful, Max,” Dillon says as he moves past me and after the others. Then he winks, in a gesture that leaves me open mouthed. Startled, I scramble to catch the disappearing troop.

  I risk a glance across at the others, as we drop from the roof into the dark covered corridor outside the infirmary. I catch a sideways glare from Jax, which he quickly averts.

  What’s with him? He looks as if he hates me. His shoulders are tense and he moves stiffly, his back straight and fists clenched.

  I’m being over sensitive. I’m not the only one with a distaste for violence. That would explain the chip on his shoulder, which I suppose I understand. Killing your father must do some psychological damage, even if a virus did turn him into a monster. I can only guess at how much, as the only member of the team who hasn’t gone through with that part of the recruitment process.

  I drop back. My heart begins to race as they reach the door and pause. Nell nods in my direction and Vinnie dips his head in reluctant agreement.

  “Okay, Max. It’s your turn.”

  They must all be able to hear the dull thump in my chest by now, as I reach for the handle, then pause to look up at the security camera, then back to the intercom beside the door.

  “Don’t worry, there’s no vamp vision here,” Jax says, more than a hint of challenge in the rising cadence of his voice.

  “No, I know.”

  My hesitation isn’t just for what’s on the other side of the door; I’m not very good at multi-tasking like this. The security cameras, as Jax pointed out, don’t pose much of a threat. One useful trait we all inherited from our fathers, we would only show up under ultraviolet light. This system doesn’t have any. They are hardly commonplace in places like this.

  The intercom system is wired up to the door, though. It will sound the alarm when it’s opened, which is where my unique talent comes in. I have a knack for, shall we say, influencing electrical circuits. The others are relying on me to disable the alarm. I’ve done it a thousand times, so they know it’s a cinch. Tonight, they will think I’m dragging my heels unless I give them a good excuse.

  “It’s a new system is all, will take a couple of seconds to get around the failsafe.”

  I can’t be sure if they’ve bought it, but it’s given me time to do what I need to. I could have tried to see into their minds to be sure, but I don’t want to know what they’re thinking so much I’ll give myself away like that.

  That’s what gave me the idea. I’m not sure if it will work. I can read the surface thoughts of humans. I can track vampires by intent, by scent, and by the fear in the surrounding humans’ minds. I can identify and control emotions in both humans and vampires. Slayers can tell when I try to read them, though.

  Until tonight, I’ve only ever listened to the thoughts of another person, never tried to project with anyone other than Dillon, and his talents far outweigh my own, so he was doing most of the work. I don’t know if I can.

  “Okay,” I say after the briefest pause, turning the handle, and pushing the door open, “we’re in. Do your stuff.”

  I gesture for Vinnie to lead the way, as he always does, but he hangs back.

  “No, no. After you,” he says, a comical imitation of the manners of his youth. I’m reminded of just how old they all are. At forty-three, with the body of a human teenager, I’m the youngest in this group by a century.

  “Why, thank you, kind sir,” I play along, taking an exaggerated step into the room and bowing my head in mock deference to him, before turning toward the familiar, and yet horrifying, scene.

  THE HUMAN IS still hooked up to the drip. All the monitors show him alive and stable. Heavily sedated, but stable nonetheless. Which, of course, is not the case; he has bled out by now. Probably suffered a massive coronary, too, which will make the autopsy a little complicated, but won’t raise any real suspicion.

  In fact, if we hadn’t just barged in and caught him, it would have been an uneventful night for Howard. As it is, his precautions are a wasted effort. This is going to get messy.

  He doesn’t look like my father. Sure, he is wearing the same old, faded chocolate-coloured corduroys, the same wool-knit cardigan with dark brown leather patches, and his gentleman’s hankie poking studiously out of the implausibly placed breast pocket, the same way it always does. Only now it’s bright red, instead of its usual pristine white. His blond hair, typically flopping amiably over his right eye, is instead matted, and plastered to his forehead. His chin is dribbling blood, and the whole of the front of his body is spattered with it.

  None of which is responsible for the sudden rush of rage that has caught me unaware, and which I’m fighting hard to contain. No, that is down to the set of his face. Howard’s genial, avuncular features are twisted and contorted into the mask of a monster. It’s a monster I am genetically programmed, trained, and only too willing to obliterate from the face of the Earth. A monster, I realise with a sense of dread, I have never before been able to relate to my father: a feeding vampire.

  ‘Steady, Maxi,’ Howard’s voice is calm and familiar in my head, going some way to pulling me back towards reason, ‘you should be glad you can’t look in a mirror right now yourself. If you think this is bad, just remember what you are.’

  He’s right. My instincts have taken over; the monster in me is on display: fangs, claws, and all. We begin the dance all cornered vampires begin, though they must know it’s hopeless, just as a doomed human knows there’s no escape from the vampires. He takes small, jerky steps from side to side, and I move to block him.

  The others have fanned out behind me, moving away from the door, to leave a plausible opening most vampires would try to exploit. Hpward’s eyes dart desperately to the door, his terror rising. I taste it in the peppery sensation at the back of my throat, but Howard still is at the other end of the room. He’s not about to fall for such an obvious trick, however afraid he is.

  ‘Steady,’ I warn him mentally.” Howard almost lets his guard down, throwing me a look of surprise and pride, and I know I have successfully projected my thoughts for the first time, ‘don’t get between me and them, or you’re history.’

  Then, as Jax sidles further round to the left, almost level with me, I fight the urge to scream aloud, ‘Get back! You’re giving them too much leeway; you
need to keep them tight.’

  He is not listening. The terror has hold of him, and his feral instincts are taking over. Jax and Vinnie have passed me, seeing he isn’t going to make a run for it. They are moving in for the kill.

  I am frozen in horror as I stare at Vinnie. His already muscular bulk is distorted by adrenaline into a bizarre sinuous monstrosity. The muscles on his neck are so taught, they make him look hunched. The veins on his arms are pulsing with normally sluggish blood, throbbing and swollen, humming in response to the proximity of his prey. A quick glance at Jax’s relatively unexcited state, his fangs and jaws barely extended, as if reluctant to show themselves in such superior company, tells me what I need to know of their plan, and explains his hostility.

  ‘Howard, listen to me now. The big one is going to make a move for you, and he’s hungry, you understand?’ I project the memory of Sam and Vinnie’s debauchery, but don’t have time to check for any sign of recognition, or wait for a response. ‘He’s the only one here who shares Sam’s taste for raw meat, so whatever you do, you keep out of his way, you hear me?’

  The slight pause in Howard’s dance is enough to reassure me he understands. It’s time to make my move. ‘Okay, I’m coming for you, watch yourself.’

  I leap across the space between us in an instant, too quickly even for Nell’s lightning reflexes to anticipate, feigning a lunge for the vampire’s neck. He in turn extends from his crouch and swipes his razor-sharp fingernails across my face; not drawing blood but leaving a stinging trail.

  I know it’s a feigned attack, but I have to fight a surge of hatred, as we cling to each other, growling and snarling, snapping and twisting in a ferocious embrace. I feel the cool touch of his skin, so easily broken by my own powerful talons. The metallic stench of human blood fillsmy nostrils, and my grip tightens on his arms. I breathe in the syrupy perfume of his tar. He is bleeding, the thick greasy liquid oozing between my fingers. I fight the instinct to slash his flesh to the bone, and instead close my eyes and turn my head aside, trying to force my fingers to relax. They are not responding to my wishes though. Every fibre in my body, every muscle and every nerve, wants to tear him apart.

  Even with my eyes closed, my head is full of the vision of his swollen and bloody fangs, the venom dripping from them. Worse still is the memory of the inhuman, haunted look of despair and desire in his eyes. It exposes his craving, and his weakness. It’s that weakness my body responds to with abhorrence and wants to lash out at, to obliterate.

  His breath is cool against my neck and face as he strains every muscle to snap his fangs a hair’s breadth from my jugular vein. It takes all the self-control I can muster just to stop myself biting back. I force myself to conjure an image of Howard in his lab, engrossed in his experiments, and concentrate on remembering this is who I’m trying to protect.

  The others are closing in behind me, Vinnie and Jax on either side, Nell and Dillon completing the formation, the points of a ‘w’ behind me. As Vinnie tenses and prepares to lunge, I manoeuvre myself between him and Howard, turning my back on the second most dangerous creature I have ever met.

  I pull Howard in tight, and then throw him away from me into Jax, who has been preparing to do the most distasteful thing any of us could contemplate - turning against one of his own. His payment is to be set upon by a howling, just fed, desperate, and to Jax in his half-aroused state, deadly vampire.

  For now, I have to put Howard and Jax out of my mind, though. I have to put everything but continuing to breathe out of my mind, if I am going to get out of here. I have to figure out a way to prevent the hulking brute I have deliberately thwarted in his attempt to feed from crushing the life out of me. He has me in a neck lock from behind, and the muscles in his arms are crushing my windpipe as he hoists me off my feet.

  I’m not sure how Nell and Dillon will react. I suspect Nell will move to aid Jax, and Dillon? He will just have to make his own decisions. The only thing that matters to me is getting free of the death grip Vinnie has on me. I kick and flail in the air, my feet looking for grip on something, anything to get some advantage.

  My breath is being forced out of me, and the strain in my temples grows, as the blood rushes to my face. My jaw is paralyzed. I am losing the battle.

  I expect a rush of panic, but instead I feel a calm, detached sense of peace. ‘I’m suffocating,’ I tell myself, ‘The muscles in my neck need to relax,’ and at the thought, a wave of pure euphoria ripples down my body from head to toe. Vinnie has not relaxed his grip, and yet I can breathe as easily as if he were holding me as tenderly as a lover.

  My feet touch the bed, and in a second I have all the leverage I need. I tense, then straighten my legs. We fly across the room and slam into the wall, which gives slightly under the pressure, plaster cracking and crumbling under the force of our impact. Vinnie’s arms fly open and I land softly on two feet, leaning forward onto one hand, rolling, and twisting, coming up with my back to the bed and facing a winded and bewildered foe.

  He staggers forward, then catches his balance, and runs at me with a thunderous roar, his arms outstretched. They slap together above my head as I duck and spin on my heel, coming up behind him.

  I kick him squarely in the small of his back and bring my open hand down in a swift chop to the back of the neck. He drops instantly, writhing in pain. Kidneys forced to filter that much poison from a human system can simply not take that kind of shock, and Vinnie is suddenly no threat to anyone. For a brief second I pity him, curled up in agony that way, but there’s no going back now.

  I raise my left foot, preparing to swing, and make a mental connection with him. Even among the searing stabs of pain, Vinnie senses me, and pleads, “No, Max, no. Please, no. Please don’t. Oh, God, please don’t.”

  It’s the futile plea to some higher being that hardens my heart. As if any God would create a world where something so vile could exist, and extend its protection to it. I bring my foot down with all the force and ferocity I can muster. I feel the blinding crash of his pain, and I stagger under the weight of it, a scream leaving my lips in accord with his, but I keep up the link long enough to find the throbbing area of his brain. It’s lit up like a beacon, the waves of pain arcing out and searing the matter nearby, like a circuit board shorting.

  Now I have the source of his pain, I pull my mind back, and sever the link. I focus my attention on the bright centre of neural activity from the outside. My focus fans the flames, and I breathe life into his agony, venting all my anger and frustration. There’s a perverse sense of satisfaction in seeing him suffer. I stand frozen above him as he writhes on the floor, a broken mind in a useless body.

  Vinnie begins to convulse in spasms. His mouth goes slack and he drools from the corner of his mouth. His fangs recede, the human features reassert themselves, the monstrously swollen muscles in his forehead relaxing. Still, I don’t loosen my grip on his fogging brain until I see the fire dim in his eyes and he stops twitching.

  I DON’T HAVE time to check whether Vinnie is dead or unconscious, though, as Nell lands a deft drop kick to my chest, and I fall back a step. I brace for the next impact as she lunges toward me, teeth bared in a snarl. Both she and Dillon have sat this out so far.

  “How could you?”

  Her tiny frame, an iron ball of fury, is all over me. She wraps her legs around my waist, arms flailing, demonized windmills disturbing nothing but air. I grab her wrists and easily lean away from the gnashing, grinding teeth at my collarbone. Letting go just long enough to grab her around the waist, I force her away from me, aware of the desperate agony the attempt to cling on is causing her.

  “Oh please,” I can’t hide my disdain for this pathetic creature as I hoist her body over my head, “Nell, you fight like a human.”

  The last word catches in my throat and becomes a feral growl as I hurl her across the room and out through the window, bars and all.

  The fall will do no more than dent her pride, I’m sure, but the all-encompassing fear
she’s experiencing will be enough to drive her away from me, for now. But Nell is the least of my worries.

  I turn to see how Howard is doing, and am overwhelmed by a mixture of surprise, relief, and pride because he’s standing over the twitching body of a near-lifeless Jax.

  That sets off the first wave of concern. A prowler beaten by one of the prey won’t go down well. Being bested by a vampire who was supposed to be dead? Well, that won’t help either.

  And that’s nothing compared to what I have done, the reality of which is beginning to register. Another wave washes over the first as I belatedly silence the alarm Nell’s unscheduled departure from our little soirée set off.

  “Wow,” the grin on Dillon’s face and twinkling eyes are unfathomable under the circumstances. “Remind me never to piss you off.”

  Dillon. What the hell am I going to do about him?

  Howard’s little secret is out, that much is guaranteed. With Nell still out there, and no doubt running to Sam right now, it’s only a matter of minutes, hours at the most, before I am officially an outcast. No, make that THE outcast.

  The Breed does not allow renegade hunters. They will turn all their resources on us until I and all my family are dead, and that’s a whole lot of resources.

  ‘We should take him out now, while we have the upper hand,’ Howard’s voice in my head is urgent, pleading, and desperate. He’s right. One less now is one less in the end, when the odds will be stacked inconceivably against us.

  Dillon watched, though. He didn’t stop me killing Vinnie, which a quick glance seems to confirm I have done. He didn’t help Nell, or even stop Howard giving Jax a beating.

  In fact, I get the feeling he may have held Nell back, keeping the numbers even. I’m not sure whether that was just because of some warped sense of curiosity, or whether he didn’t want to take part in the slaughter of his protégé, but that’s not going to matter to The Breed.