by Art DeForest
I crouched lower in my stance, preparing for my last ditch defense. Suddenly the wall behind me, the one I had escaped through, exploded as a blond god wearing nothing but silk pajama bottoms and an expression of righteous fury came streaking around me to smash into Darius. As the two went crashing to the ground I saw my sword slip out of Deacon’s hand and land on the carpet a few feet away. I immediately started circling around, trying to find a way to help Deacon in his desperate struggle.
I spared a glance for Fangs as I circled close, making sure he was still with us before devoting my full attention back to the fight. The men seemed comparably skilled as they struggled. Darius, however had the advantage of being armed. Deacon had already taken a nasty cut to the arm as he tried to block a stabbing attack. They rolled back and forth with such fury, that I couldn’t find an opening to help.
Abruptly the rolling around stopped with Darius rising up from a prone Deacon Caine. My heart shriveled in my chest as I saw the stake sticking out of Deacon’s chest. Darius’ dagger rose high in the air before it started a blurringly fast descent toward Deacon’s neck. It came to a ringing halt mere inches from him however, caught by the edge of my sword. He looked up in shock to meet my cold steel gaze just as my foot smashed into the side of his head, knocking him clear of Deacon. I kept my eyes on Darius as he recovered from the kick. Standing up, dagger still in his hand, he took in the sight of me standing protectively over Deacon and sneered in derision. “You filthy whore. Can’t you go one day without a man between your legs?” Man, talk about being stuck on a concept! Looking up at Darius, my contempt was plain to see and hear as I retorted. “Shut up and die Mamma’s boy.” I had often speculated on what would make a man like Darius into the monster he had become. Mommy issues was at the top of my list. Apparently I hit close to the mark because with an inarticulate scream, Darius attacked.
A strong lunge sent Darius’ dagger shooting towards my heart. My sword came up to parry the strike wide. I quickly riposted with a backhand slash to his neck, but he jumped back out of the way. I followed him staying close enough for my blade to do its deadly work. Lunge, parry, riposte, slash. We stood our ground and hacked at each other. Faster and faster our strikes came as we each took the measure of the other until our arms and blades blurred and the rapid fire clang of blade on blade rang in the midst of the fire alarms blaring in the background. It was remarkable how evenly matched we were. I was faster, but the weight of my larger blade made me a touch slower. His blade was shorter but the length of his arm compensated. I practiced constantly, but he grew up in an era when all men carried blades and knew how to use them.
His mistake, when he made it, was barely perceptible. In fact I don’t think I consciously even noted it. His lunge was a fraction of an inch too long. It moved his balance ever so slightly too far forward, slowing his return to guard. Rotating my body to the side I allowed his blade to slide past me as my own lunge came in straight and hard, penetrating his chest just left of center. Darius’ eyes went wide as the blade sliced deeply into his heart and his blade slipped from fingers suddenly gone numb. A look of puzzlement came over his face as he looked at the blade sticking out of his chest. “N...Not possible.” He whispered. “Y..You’re not worthy.” Arrogant right to the end I guess. I didn’t bother to respond as I jerked the blade out of his chest and twisted around my center in a three hundred sixty degree spin. My gladius was singing with speed when the razor sharp blade impacted Darius’ neck. His head jumped from his shoulders with the force of the blow. Recovering from the strike, I didn’t even bother to watch as the monster from my deepest nightmares collapsed into a pile of dust.
7
I knelt beside Deacon and removed the stake from his heart as gently as possible. Rolling to his side he curled in a fetal position around the wound. He would need to feed soon, but there would be no permanent damage. Just as I was turning to check on Fangs, he came limping across the floor to where I knelt on the floor next to Deacon. He came up to me and firmly put his forehead against mine and a somewhat halting purr tried to rumble up past no doubt injured ribs. We sat like that for a while, silently rejoicing in our survival. After a moment a large male hand reached out to stroke Fangs behind the ears. We both turned our heads to look down at its source. Deacon’s deep blue eyes stare back up at us. Somewhat to my surprise, Fangs leaned down and bestowed a head bump on Deacon as well. Apparently Deacon had proved himself a fellow protector and as such, was worthy of the cat’s highest honor. Deacon’s eye grew wide at the unexpected contact and I chuckled at his reaction.
“Come on.” I said. “We better get out of here before there are too many questions to mesmerize away. I stood up and did my best to help Deacon to a standing position before crouching down to take Fangs as gently as possible into my arms. As we walked out into the hall I said to Deacon, “We need to find a Vet for Fangs.” Deacon nodded tiredly. “Perhaps I can help with that.” Said a deep voice behind us. Whirling around I brought my sword to bear as best I could with a forty five pound cat in my arms. The man raised his hands, palms out, to show his peaceful intent. “I mean you no harm.” He continued on. “I’m your Lycan representative. My name is Marcus Quinn. As you might guess, we have access to the best veterinary service around.” He said ironically, holding a hand out to Deacon since my hands were full of cat and sword. Deacon cautiously took the proffered hand in a firm grip. “That would be much appreciated.” He said diplomatically. Marcus looked us both over briefly but thoroughly before his eyes came to rest on my bare legs and filthy black top. A faint smile touched his lips. “Maybe we should see about getting you some clean clothes first.”
I blushed a little at that. “Thanks, that would be nice.” I said, heading toward the door to our room. Peering inside I saw that the fire was completely out. The rooms emergency sprinklers had done their job. The smell of wet ash and burnt pork coming of the corpse of the bell hop in the middle of the floor was a bit overwhelming as I stepped in. “Where are all the police and firemen?” I asked. “I thought we would have to mesmerize half the city of Denver to get out of this without going to jail.” Marcus chuckled at me as he reached into the breast pocket of his jacket and pulled out some ID. “I am the police” He said as he showed us his DPD detective’s badge. “We knew the fire was already out, so I managed to have the fire department held at bay while I secured the scene. There were reports of fighting going on up here” he said raising a questioning eyebrow in our direction.
“Let’s just say, we handled your vampire problem when he came to make a preemptive visit to our room a little while ago.” Both eyebrows tried to crawl up into his scalp at this. “That’s odd.” He said, looking perplexed. I shrugged at the comment. “Its pretty obvious that someone warned him we were coming and gave him a heads up.” I was going to roast Gino Abandonado over a slow fire when I got back home. “That’s not the odd thing.” Marcus said, his face going serious. “What’s odd is that I showed up here early to inform you we have what appears to be a fresh vampire kill across town.” Stunned silence descended the room for a moment. “Oh crap.” I said. “There’s more than one.”
Stalking the Shadows
By
Art DeForest
1
We snuck down the emergency stairs of the Hyatt-Regency hotel in Denver trying to escape notice. Marcus Quinn, a DPD detective and our representative escort from the Lycan leadership, led the way. I cradled Fangs protectively to my chest. Deacon Caine trailed along behind us, hand clutched to the healing wound on his chest. Master vampires are damned hard to kill and it took everything Deacon, Fangs and I had to put Darius down for good.
Darius had been a true monster of our kind. ‘Our kind’ being vampires by the way. He forcibly turned me when I was a teenager so I wouldn’t die under his torture. I’d managed to escape and spent the next eighty years making myself so dangerous that I could never be chained again.
It had been entirely too close though. As a master vampire Darius was a
daywalker. His starting a fire in my room in the middle of the afternoon while I was asleep, put me at a serious disadvantage. A disadvantage that I planned to rectify. I vowed as I was fighting, that I wouldn’t be caught out like that again. ‘Master Vampire Kaitlyn Strong’ has a nice ring to it I think.
We managed to find enough clothing that survived the fire and the emergency sprinklers to at least get dressed before fleeing down the stairway. I had fought the battle with Darius in panties and a camisole, Deacon had been in nothing more that pajama bottoms. Not exactly what you’d call tactical attire.
We reached the bottom of the stairs and went down a short hallway to an exit. The door opened up on to a shaded alley. “Wait here.” Said Marcus as he dropped the bags that contained our weapons and gear. “I’ll pull the car around.” Fangs yowled a little in discomfort as he feebly tried to adjust himself in my arms.
“Please hurry.” I said. My near panic over Fangs’ condition must have been clearly visible because he simply nodded before turning to jog down the alley and around the corner. After I watched him go out of sight, I turned my attention briefly to Deacon. “How ya doin’?” I asked.
Deacon looked up and met my eyes. “I will be fine after I feed” he said Which was guy speak for “I feel like crap, but I want you to think I’m tough.” I snorted mentally and nodded back with a blank expression on my face.
A couple minutes later a late model SUV pulled up next to us. Quinn jumped out of the driver’s seat and quickly threw our gear into the back as we crawled into the passenger seats. He ran back to the driver’s seat and we tore off down the alley. The late afternoon sun blazed in through the windows of the SUV and I tried desperately to ignore the feeling that my skin was going to explode into flames at any moment. I’m guessing it’s something I’ll just have to get used to because I don’t think I’ll ever be able to ignore it.
It was twenty nerve wracking minutes before we pulled in front of what looked like a neighborhood bar. The Harvest Moon was emblazoned in neon over the front door. As Quinn parked, I said, “This doesn’t look like a vets office.”
As he turned off the vehicle he said, “It’s even better. This is the Pack headquarters. There’s someone in here who can help better than any veterinarian.
My eyes narrowed suspiciously. “You better not be taking Fangs to some quack.” I said angrily. “Anything happens to my cat and I’ll have your pelt on my wall.” I growled.
Quinn actually looked a bit nervous at that. “Take it easy.” He said with a placating gesture. “She’s the best. You’ll see.”
We were three steps passed the front entrance when the formerly noisy barroom went still. Every eye in the place turned to focus on Deacon and I. As we continued into the room, two very large men rose from their seats to block our path. Quinn came to a stop within arms reach of the men and growled. “They’re with me. Sit. Down.” He kept his head high and eyeballed both men intensely for a moment before they backed up and resumed their seats. We proceeded further into the dim interior of the silent room. The hairs on the back of my neck stood at attention as a hundred eyes watched us with varying degrees of malice. Marcus kept us heading toward a swinging door at the end of the bar.
A lone woman sat in a chair by the door and rose up as we approached. She wasn’t as big as the first two thugs who tried to stop us, but as she stood, with a lean rangey grace, something about her cried out that she was as deadly as both of them put together. “No way in hell are walking corpses getting in the back Quinn. You should know better.” She said as we came to a halt.
Marcus pointed at us with a thumb over his shoulder. “These are the people the Vampire Council sent over to take care of that little problem we’ve been having. They’re here at Jake’s request.”
The dangerous lady didn’t move an inch. “They may be authorized to be in this town, but they sure aren’t authorized to go in back.”
Quinn ran his hand through his hair in frustration. “Look, they have an injured animal companion. Sara needs to look him over.” The lady scowled at the words. “Sara is the last person we want to expose to the corpses.” She said decisively.
My curiosity piqued at the remark. “What’s so special about Sara?” I wondered silently.
“Come on Trish, Just ask Sara if it’s okay.” Said Marcus. “If she turns them down, we’ll leave.” Trish just stood there for a moment contemplating her choices when the door beside her swung open. A beautiful woman stood in the doorway. I instantly knew she wasn’t a human or a lycan. Part of me said she was a vampire, but that didn’t feel quite right either. I did get a sense that a great deal of age and wisdom was packed in her attractive twenty something appearance. She looked at each of us individually as if she were reading our souls. At least that’s how I felt when our eyes met. It also seemed like an instant connection snapped into place, as if we’d known each other in a past life or something.
After scanning us for a brief moment, she turned to Trish. “Let them in. They are no danger to me or the Pack.” The deadly guard immediately stepped to the side allowing us access. Marcus grabbed the edge of the door, opening it wide and motioned for me to enter with the other hand as the mysterious lady moved back into a hallway. “Follow me.” She said looking back over her shoulder and walking deeper into the building.
Pushing a door open at the end of the hall, she held it for us as we trooped into what appeared to be a standard examination room. It was like one you would see in a doctor’s office. “Put your companion on the examination table if you would.” She said, gesturing to a cushioned counter top looking affair off to one side. I walked over and laid Fang’s down as gently as possible on the table. He yowled softly and I could see a foamy bit of blood at the corner of his mouth.
The lady walked over did a quick examination of Fangs. She looked into his eyes and mouth before running her hands professionally down his body and limbs. Fangs let out a hiss or two as she pressed sensitive areas and moved limbs, but otherwise let her do as she wanted. I was amazed at the immediate trust he placed in her. Straightening back up after her examination, she turned her attention to Deacon and Quinn. “Gentlemen” she said in a businesslike voice. “Would you please wait outside? I need some time with the young lady and her companion.” Both men dutifully filed out of the room as the lady turned to face me holding out her hand. “My name is Sara.” As we shook hands she nodded over to Fangs. “You have a very injured companion there.”
I looked at her with a lump in my throat. “Is he going to be alright?” I asked in a quavering voice. I couldn’t bear the thought of losing Fangs.
“I think he will be fine.” Said Sara. “We do, however, need to talk about the course of treatment.” She continued on solemnly.
“What do you mean? Do you have to do surgery or something?” I asked tremulously. “If so, money is no object.”
Sara shook her head “No dear. Money is not my concern.” She studied me a moment before continuing. “You probably sensed that I am different from everyone else here, did you not?”
I nodded my head in agreement. “You feel kind of like a vampire but, different.”
Her eyes crinkled in a smile as she nodded. “Very perceptive child. I’m impressed. I am what my people once called a ‘Blood Shaman.’ Think of me as a native american vampire only I was made properly. I don’t have the vampire’s weakness to sunlight and I very seldom have to drink blood.”
I looked at her blankly for a moment. Not much coherent thought could get passed my worry for Fangs. “That is all very interesting, but how does that help my cat?” I asked.
She tilted her head and smiled at my puzzlement. “My powers give us a couple of options. First I can give your companion some of my blood. As a blood shaman my blood carries healing properties that will allow your cat to heal at an accelerated rate. He would be back on his feet in a few days.”
I made a go on motion with my hand. “You said we had a couple of options. What’s next.” I asked impatien
tly. Option one was sounding pretty good and I was impatient to get Fangs back to full health.
“The next option is more serious, it carries some benefits and side effects over option one.” She said thoughtfully. “By using your blood, we would be turning the cat into your familiar, to use modern language. To my people they are called spirit companions.”
“So what’re the benefits and side effects you mentioned.” I said shortly as I looked at my poor suffering friend. Sara followed my glance and laid a gentle hand on Fangs’ flank. “He would become faster and stronger, perhaps a bit more intelligent over the years.”
“That sounds great!” I interrupted enthusiastically. “Let’s do it.”
Sara held up her hand in caution as she continued on after my interruption. “There are other things to consider.” She continued. “Your friend will also gain a long life. He will most likely live as long as you.” I started to break in once more only to have her continue over my unvoiced interruption. “That may sound very good at first blush, but think about it. That means you will have responsibility for your companion, possibly for hundreds of years. Things tend to change over time.” She said gently.
