5.
“CAN ANYONE TELL ME what the hell happened last night?” Jim took a sip of his Diet Coke, his eyes alternating between Drake and Alison.
Seated behind his desk with his feet propped up on it, Drake lifted the iced coffee to his lips to hide the grin. He empathized. He and Alison had experienced the same disorientation after their first encounter with a vampire. No matter how long and carefully you prepare yourself to deal with the undead, no matter how mentally you fortify yourself, a small part of yourself still clings to that preconceived notion that these ungodly creatures of the night cannot possibly exist. Such illusions are quickly shattered in the opening moments of that first encounter. The shock of confronting something that is already dead. The sheer terror and adrenaline rush it generates. The exhilaration in fighting and taking down one of these creatures. And finally, the realization that vampires do exist and you are hunting them. It truly is a life-altering moment. As Alison once joked, once you go Drac you never go back.
“You killed your first vampire,” said Drake. “Congratulations.”
“No. Alison killed the vampire. You and I were tossed around like toys.”
“You were still part of the take down.”
“I’m cool with hunting vampires.” Jim nervously swirled the Diet Coke around in its can. “What I want to know is why the damn thing wasn’t even phased when I showed it a crucifix.”
“Because everything you ever learned about vampires from the movies is bullshit.”
Jim’s expression reminded Drake of a little boy who had just learned that there was no Santa Claus. “Are you serious?”
“Yup.”
“But how? Why?”
Drake looked to Alison, who sat stretched out on the sofa, and nodded to her.
“It’s like that game you played in school,” began Alison. “The one where someone makes up a story and whispers it to a friend, who whispers it to their friend, and so on. By the time the story reaches the last person, it has completely changed. It’s the same with the vampire legend. Over the years the truth has been so distorted by movies and television that current legends bear little resemblance to the facts.”
“So then crucifixes have no affect on vampires?”
“None.” Alison saw the confusion on Jim’s face and explained. “The crucifix is a religious symbol, like the Star of David or the Islamic crescent. It has meaning to us because of its spiritual significance, but has no affect on vampires. The same goes for all religious symbols or scriptures. Vampires can enter churches, cemeteries, and other consecrated ground.”
“You mean I wasted all those Saturday nights watching Creature Feature for nothing?”
“Afraid so,” Alison chuckled. “To tell the truth, most of the accepted facts about vampires are false. They don’t sleep in coffins filled with soil from their homeland. They don’t turn into bats or wolves. They cast reflections in a mirror. They…”
“I get it.” Jim sighed, overwhelmed by the flood of information.
“I know it’s a lot to take in.” Drake swung his legs off the desk and rested his elbows on the desktop. “Most of this you’ll learn by trial and error, like we did. Right now, the only thing you need to know is the three ways to kill a vampire. A stake through the heart. Decapitation. Cremation.”
“What about silver bullets and holy water?” asked Jim.
“Silver bullets have no affect other than to piss them off. Holy water won’t kill them, but because it’s been blessed it burns like hell and slows them down a bit.”
“Nothing like keeping it simple.”
“It’s far from simple. Vampires are pure evil. Their souls were ripped from their bodies when they were turned. With no morals or conscious, and possessed with incredible strength, they’re the fiercest creatures you’ll ever face.”
Jim sighed. “And this is supposed to make me feel good how?”
“It’s not. But you eventually grow accustomed to it. You have to. If you screw up, you’re dead. Or worse, you become one of them.”
Realizing the conversation was growing much too somber, Drake stood up and pulled his leather jacket from the back of his chair. “Don’t worry about it, kid. You did good last night. We won’t be hunting again for another two nights, so go home and get some rest.”
“Is that an order?”
“A recommendation.” Drake slid on his jacket and straightened the sleeves. “If anyone needs me, I’ll be home with Van Helsing.”
* * *
TONI TOOK HER TIME returning to the coven, despite having to endure extra time in the sewers. As much as she despised these stench-filled bowels of the city, they provided her with a solitude lacking at the coven. Right now, she needed time to think. To analyze last night’s attack on the hunter. To plot. Ion would surely view last night as a failure, which could not be further from the truth. Toni never meant for the biker to kill the hunter, but to test him. From that test, she had learned a lot.
The addition of a new hunter to the team had been a bit of a surprise. The child’s fighting skills, though, were slightly better than pathetic. Once the hunters had been eliminated, she would track down the child for amusement like a cat toying with a frightened mouse. The game against Drake Matthews would be deadly. He was a tough, fearless, determined opponent. His weak spot was his tendency to rush into combat, to let bravado take the place of prudence. Yet even that vulnerability was offset by Alison Monroe. Although she possessed the same courage, strength, and determination as Drake, she tempered her abilities with training and discipline. Of the two, she would be the more formidable opponent. If the huntress could be taken out, Drake would be no match for the coven.
By the time Toni climbed the tunnel connecting the sewers with the row house’s cellar, she had formulated a plan for taking down the hunter.
As Toni walked through the main foyer, the double doors to the dining room swung open. Ion stood in the doorway. His yellow eyes glared at her, filled with anger.
“Antoinette, we need to talk. Now.” He turned around and stepped back into the dining room without making eye contact.
Toni sighed. Ion used this demanding tone and her full name whenever he intended to reprimand her, usually for some minor infraction of the coven’s rules, giving him a chance to exert illusionary control over his waning power. Let him indulge his vainglory, Toni advised herself. Do not let him ruin your moment of triumph.
Toni followed Ion into the dining room and stopped short. She had anticipated a private dressing down. Instead, Ion had gathered together the coven. She counted eleven vampires in attendance. Almost the entire coven. Whatever Ion had in store, Toni harbored no doubts that it would be unpleasant.
Strutting over to the dust-covered mahogany table centered in the room, Ion spun around and leaned against its edge, his arms folded across his chest. Silent. Defiant. The coven huddled around the room, many of them shuffling from foot to foot. Others cowered in the shadows, hoping not to be noticed. An uneasiness hung in the air. Toni surmised that Ion planned to engage in some type of melodramatic power play. Usually she acquiesced because for years Ion’s leadership had been little more than that of a figurehead. Over the past week, however, she had done more to protect the coven than Ion had in the past decade, and this time she refused to back down.
“What?” Toni demanded.
Ion quickly switched from confrontation to conciliation. “There’s no need for an attitude, my dear. You said you were going to kill the hunter. We’ve just been informed that you fought him tonight.”
Toni flashed a withering glare at Joel, the vampire who had led the hunter into the trap in the underground parking garage. She should have realized that the treacherous little prick would rush to Ion to report on what had transpired. Joel slunked over and stepped behind Ion to be out of Toni’s line of sight.
“So? Is the hunter dead?” Ion smiled like a sardonic Cheshire cat.
“No.”
“But you promised that you were going to
kill the hunter tonight.”
Toni needed to put an end to Ion’s melodrama before the coven began to question her authority. “I promised to take care of the hunter. Nothing was said about killing him tonight.”
“Then why did you play out your little fiasco?”
“It was far from a fiasco, despite what that little cock sucker told you.”
Joel leaned out from behind Ion and hissed. Toni took a step forward and Joel jumped back. She returned her attention to Ion. “I arranged tonight’s battle to watch the hunter in action. Because of it, I’ve figured out how to take him down.”
“Please tell us. We’re anxious to hear.” Ion held out his arms and looked around the room, receiving several nods of approval.
Toni ignored the taunt. “The woman is the key. She’s the strongest of the group. Every time we go after the hunter, she comes to his rescue. If we take her out, then Drake and the child will be easy to pick off.”
“That’s your plan? To go after the woman?”
“Of course. Take out the strongest of your enemies first, then the others will be helpless calves being led to the slaughter. It’s what I would have expected you to suggest. Or have you lost your edge?”
Ion lunged forward at Toni’s challenge. He partially morphed into a vampire as he shoved his face close to Toni’s, fangs exposed, eyes burning red with fury. “Don’t be insolent with me. Or do I have to remind you who’s in charge of this coven?”
“Then act like it,” Toni spat, bearing her own fangs. “For months the hunter has preyed on us, and we’ve done nothing. I’m offering a solution to rid us of the threat. If you have a better plan, then I’d like to hear it.”
The murmurs of consent around the room signified that Ion had lost the upper hand. Rather than exploit her victory, Toni waited. As expected, Ion backed down. He morphed back into human form. Without looking at the coven, he headed for the door, pausing by Toni long enough to issue a warning just loud enough for the others to hear.
“You have three days to kill the huntress. But be careful, little one. Insolence without success will not put you in good stead with the coven.”
Toni turned to watch Ion storm out of the room, ignoring the eleven sets of dead eyes that fixed on her. She had gone through worse, and had learned from her mistakes. It was what made her so formidable as a master. Sadly, Ion seemed to have forgotten that. No matter. The next time the hunters come out, Toni reassured herself, the female will be mine. Then Ion will learn how decadence without accomplishments will affect the leadership of the coven.
* * *
RENNES, FRANCE. 17 OCTOBER 1793. The country devolved into glorious chaos. A new order was being established in France, erected on the ashes of the Ancien Regime and cemented in blood. What had started as a simple demand for political equality rapidly had spiraled out of control until revolution tore France apart. Revolution soon gave birth to its nefarious offspring, counter-revolution. Total anarchy settled over France. An individual could go to the guillotine for showing too much revolutionary ardor just as easily as for opposing the Committee of Public Safety. No one was safe. For most Frenchmen, it was a time of violence, uncertainty, and fear.
For Antoinette Varela, it presented the perfect opportunity to hunt.
She made her way cautiously through the streets, being careful to avoid contact with groups of people, keeping to the shadows to remain inconspicuous. Feeding off of the occasional citizen posed little risk these days. Frenchmen disappeared off the streets all the time, and no one dared question what happened. On the other hand, groups posed a major threat because that usually meant gangs of sans-culottes sanctioned by the local Committee of Public Safety to maintain discipline, or worse, angry mobs seeking revenge on the aristocracy or their personal enemies. Such groups presented an uncertainty even a vampire hoped to avoid.
As Toni rushed across the street to get back under the cover of darkness, a door in front of her opened. Laughter and boisterous talk flowed out the open door, followed by an attractive man of about thirty dressed in old but expensive cloths. He stumbled, falling back into the door as it closed behind him. The man obviously had been drinking. So much the better for Toni. Alcohol always made the kill easier.
Toni sized up the situation and decided on her approach. She closed with the man as he staggered onto the sidewalk and greeted him with her most sultry voice. “Bonjour.”
Not having noticed Toni up until now, he was startled by her sudden presence. He tried to appear sober. “Oh, bonsoir, Citizen. I didn’t see you there.”
“Understandable. We all have a lot on our minds.” Toni placed her hand on his right shoulder. As she circled him, she tenderly ran the fingers across his back, up over his left shoulder, and down across his chest. “I can help clear your head for a little while.”
“Really?” It took a few seconds for him to realize he was being seduced. The anticipation on his face turned to concern. “How much?”
“No charge.” Toni’s fingers glided down his chest and caressed his manhood. “Consider it my contribution to the revolution.”
As she massaged, he hardened through his cloths. “Do you know of a place where we can have some privacy?”
“Y-yeah.” Taking Toni by the hand, he led her back the way she came. “By the way, I’m Andre. Who are you?”
“I can be whoever you want.”
Andre led Toni to a small, dark alley between two closed shops. They strolled four meters down the alley to a small alcove off to the right. Pulling Toni into the alcove, Andre threw her back against the wall and roughly fondled her. He was so drunk and excited, Toni feared he would cum before she had a chance to feed. Pushing his fumbling hands away, she grabbed Andre by his shirt, spun him around, and pushed him back into the wall.
“What’s this, salope? You better not have changed your mind.”
“No need to worry.” Toni kissed him lightly. “I said I was going to take care of you.”
Toni dropped to her knees and reached for Andre’s belt buckle. This was her favorite way to feed, and not just for the sexual act itself. The blood from a sexually-aroused cock tasted so much better than normal human blood. Plus the screams of terror and pain from the struggling victim excited her own bloodlust. Toni took Andre into her mouth and slid her lips along the shaft. She would give him another minute to become fully excited, and then she would feed.
A commotion coming down the alley distracted her. Andre heard it at the same time. Cursing under his breath, he pulled himself out of Toni’s mouth and fumbled to buckle himself up. Five men stepped into the opening. Two carried muskets and two others held torches, the light from which illuminated the alcove. They were all poorly dressed in tattered and dirty clothes, more than likely peasants. Except for their leader, a tall man with soft features and clean clothes with a tri-colored brocade attached to his chest. These were enrages, or enraged ones, a self-appointed band of vigilantes who took the revolution into their own hands. Enrages were notorious for being dangerous and unpredictable. Toni stayed on her knees and remained quiet, hoping they would ignore her.
“I told you I saw the bastard come down here.” A short, paunchy man pointed his torch at Andre. He sneered, revealing a mouth missing half its teeth.
The tall man with the tricolor brocade nodded approvingly. “You did well, Citizen.”
“Pierre.” Andre stepped toward the tall man, but stopped when the pair of muskets was aimed at him. “You’ve known me since we were children. I’m not a threat to the revolution.”
“You had your chance to join us. It’s too late now.” Pierre nodded to the short, paunchy man. He and the other torch bearer grabbed Andre by each arm.
“Pierre, please.” Andre put up only token resistance. “Have mercy.”
“I have mercy only for France and the revolution. Not for those who refuse to join the cause. Let’s go.”
Toni almost sighed with relief when she realized they were ignoring her. Her relief was short-lived.
“What about the whore?” asked one of the enrages with a musket.
Pierre glanced down at Toni with self-righteous disdain and sized her up in the glare from the torchlight. “She cavorts with traitors. The blade can always handle one more. Bring her.”
Toni lunged for the alley exit. However, since she was on her knees, she wasted valuable time standing up. The second musketeer slammed the butt of his weapon into her face, shattering her nose and cheek bone. She dropped back to her knees, stunned. The first musketeer stepped up behind Toni and drove the butt of his weapon into the back of her skull. Toni fell face first onto the dirt. The two musketeers pummeled her head with their muskets until, on the fifth or sixth hit, her skull split with a sickening crack. An agonizing pain shot through her senses. Her vision and hearing blacked out.
The musketeer whose blow had cracked Toni’s skull looked at the body. “Sorry, Citizen. I didn’t mean to hit her so hard.”
“No harm done.” Pierre ignored Toni’s moans. “Just be careful in the future. You don’t want to be accused of having too much revolutionary ardor.”
“Of course, Citizen.”
“Should we leave her?” asked the short, paunchy man.
Pierre glanced at the body, noticing the belabored breathing. “She’s still alive, so bring her with us. The blade doesn’t care what condition she’s in.”
Toni heard none of this, being only vaguely aware of a buzzing in the background. She concentrated on regenerating. The musketeers’ attack easily would have killed a human, but Toni was undead. She could feel her wounds healing, her broken skull mending back into shape, and the damage to her brain correcting itself. As her body rejuvenated itself, Toni gradually became aware of her surroundings.
She sat on a hard surface, with her back propped up against something solid. Her body swayed from side to side, which meant she was moving. Around her, quiet cries and prayers intermingled with a rhythmic creaking. Among the voices, she could distinguish that of Andre, pathetically sobbing between whispered calls to God to spare his life. Toni tried to open her eyes, but the moment her lids opened searing pain shot through them. A kaleidoscope of flashing lights played on the inside of her eyelids.
The Vampire Hunters: Book I of The Vampire Hunters Trilogy Page 10
