Drake smiled. Jessica looked away and out into the street. She folded her arms across her chest and crossed her legs. “Damn you.”
“I didn’t tell you this to taunt you.”
“Then why did you tell me?”
“Because you deserve to hear the truth. Of everyone I’ve known since I first began hunting vampires, you’re the first one who ever came close to discovering the truth.”
“Thanks.” Jessica softened her tone. “Don’t you think the public deserves to know, too?”
“They’re not ready for it. Look how long it took you to accept the truth.”
“And I still have doubts.”
“Exactly.” Drake nodded. “It’s better to let the public think that the worse that could happen to them is a mugging or a random shooting.”
Jessica did not respond because she had nothing more to say. Drake was right, and she knew it.
“What time is it?” she asked.
Drake looked at his watch. “About twenty to eight.”
“Shit.”
“What’s up?”
Jessica stood and looked around, making certain she had not left anything behind. “I have to meet Dekker at eight o’clock.”
“Robert Dekker? The chief medical examiner?”
“You know him?”
“Not personally.” Drake suppressed a grin. “But I hear he’s a fan of my work.”
Jessica did not even notice the joke. “I’m sorry to be rude.”
“No problem. Call me if you want to talk some more.”
Jessica paused, then smiled. “Thanks. I think I will.”
Rushing into the street, she raised a hand to flag down a taxi.
“THERE SHE IS,” the thing in the back seat hissed.
In the SUV’s passenger seat, Toni leaned closer to the windshield, which had been painted over black from the inside, and stared at Jessica through the small portion of glass that remained exposed.
“And she’s with the hunter,” added the driver.
“I can see that.” Toni spat out the words. Her hand went to her chest and fingered the scars beneath her blouse.
The vampire in the back seat leaned forward. “Let’s take down the hunter now while we have the chance. We outnumber him.”
Toni shook her head. “We’d still have to deal with the huntress. Besides, Ion wants us to kidnap the reporter. I’m not going to defy him again.”
“There she goes.” The driver pointed to Jessica getting into a taxi. “Should we head her off at the morgue?”
“No. Follow her, but keep your distance.”
DRAKE WATCHED JESSICA as she climbed into the taxi. He empathized with her, for he remembered his own disbelief when first told about the existence of vampires. He became a believer only after he had encountered one himself. Hopefully, Jessica would never need such proof. If she had an ounce of common sense she would drop this assignment. Yet he felt reasonably certain that Jessica had more determination than common sense. A quality that reminded Drake of himself.
In either case, Drake hoped he would see her again.
Taking a puff on his cigar, Drake realized it had gone out. He placed the cigar between his lips, pulled a lighter out of his pocket, and flicked it on. While lighting his cigar, he spotted a gray SUV drive by and follow Jessica’s taxi. He would never have noticed it had it not been for the black-painted windows. As unusual as they appeared, he had seen something similar before, but could not remember…
Drake suddenly realized where he had seen car windows painted black. Four months ago. In Boston. In the garage of the house where the Night Stalker lived. The vampire had painted over the windows to block out sunlight so he could travel during the day.
Bolting out of his chair, Drake ran to the street and hailed a taxi. As he did, he flipped open his cellular phone and dialed the office. Alison answered on the second ring.
“Drake Matthew’s Consulting Agency. How can…?”
“Alison, it’s me. Is Jim with you?”
“He’s home. Resting up for tomorrow night.”
“Shit!”
“What’s up?” Concern entered Alison’s voice.
“Get down to the morgue as fast as you can. Jessica’s on her way there now with an SUV full of snuffies right behind her.”
“How many are we dealing with?”
“I don’t know. Prepare for the worst. Just get down there before Jessica walks into a trap.”
“Gotcha, boss.”
Flipping the cell phone shut, Drake concentrated on finding a taxi. All the ones within sight were occupied, except for one yellow cab half a block away. Rushing through the throngs of pedestrians, Drake made his way to the taxi and jumped in back.
The driver spun around to face him. “Sorry, buddy. I’m off duty.”
“I need to get to the city morgue right away. It’s literally a matter of life and death.”
“Wish I could help, but I’m on my way home.”
Drake reached into his jacket pocket and pulled out three $20 bills, then handed them over to the driver. “Please help me out. I don’t have time to find another taxi.”
The driver stared at the bills for several seconds, then shrugged. Taking the money, he folded the bills over and slid them into his shirt pocket. “What the hell. It’s on my way home anyway.”
* * *
THIS PLACE IS UNUSUALLY quiet tonight, Bill thought as he walked the morgue’s corridors. It is as quiet as…. well, as a morgue. The only sounds were his footsteps echoing along the poorly-lit corridor and the background hum of the building’s ventilation system. No sounds of others working late. Even the night security guard was not around, his wooden chair folded and resting against the wall.
Bill eventually came to the autopsy room. He looked at his watch. A few minutes after eight o’clock. Jessica might already be here. He knocked. No answer. He knocked again, only louder this time. Still no answer. Trying the knob, he found it unlocked. Rather than stand in the hall and draw attention to himself, Bill stepped inside.
The autopsy room was empty, which surprised Bill because two bodies waited for examination. One lay on the main autopsy table, the other on a gurney parallel to it, both covered with sheets. A tray of instruments rested by the main table. The only light came from a floor-mounted lamp at the head of the main table.
Bill checked his camera to make certain the settings were correct, then switched on the flash. He wanted to snap a few photos of the room while no one was around, hopefully to be used in Jessica’s feature. Moving to one corner, Bill lined up the shot, adjusted the focus, and snapped the first photograph. Blinding light momentarily lit up the room, followed by a high-pitched whine as the flash recharged. Bill took two more photos from different angles.
While taking the third photograph, Bill noticed something unusual through the camera’s viewfinder—a reflection on the sheet covering the body on the autopsy table just as the flash went off. Bill moved closer to check it out. A large, dark wet spot caused the reflection. He touched the spot with his fingers. The liquid soaked the sheet. Rubbing some of it onto his finger, he raised it to his eyes to examine it. It was thick and red. Jesus, thought Bill. It’s blood.
Looking around for a weapon, Bill took a scalpel off of the tray, brandishing it in his right hand like a switchblade. With his left, Bill reached out for the end of the sheet. His hand shook. He took a deep breath to steady himself. Clutching the end of the sheet, he yanked it off with a massive pull, letting it flutter to the floor.
Dekker lay sprawled out on the autopsy table. Someone had worked him over with a psychotic vengeance. Dekker’s chest was sliced open from neck to pelvis, his skin torn back to reveal the body cavity. His intestines hung out of the exposed abdomen and lay entangled on the table, fluid and feces leaking from the open end. Every other organ had scalpel slices running down its length, with the instrument of torture still buried to its hilt in Dekker’s stomach. Bill could not even begin to imagine the torment Dekker m
ust have endured before death released him.
Dekker’s eyes opened. His head jerkily turned to Bill. He breathed deep, his sliced-open lungs whistling with the effort. Exhaling shakily, Dekker pleaded, “Kill me.”
Bill dropped the scalpel and stumbled backward, trying to escape the horror before him. He stopped only when he backed into the gurney. Suddenly, the corpse on the gurney sat up. Two pallid arms shot out from under the sheet and grabbed Bill around the throat, its claws digging into his skin. With a violent shake of its head, the corpse threw off the sheet, revealing a pair of blood-red eyes set into sunken sockets and a mouth filled with razor-sharp fangs. Bill felt a stream of urine flow down his leg.
The vampire motioned with its head toward Dekker. “Do you like my handiwork? I tried to get him to tell me what he knew about your boss, but he wouldn’t talk. He screamed a lot, though.”
The creature plunged its mouth toward Bill’s throat. Bill had to get away, but could not break the thing’s grip without ripping out half his throat in the process. Raising the camera to the vampire’s face and placing the flash in front of its eyes, Bill snapped a photo.
The flash went off, blinding the creature. Crying out in pain, it released its grip. Bill took advantage of the opportunity. Taking the camera from around his neck, he smashed it into the vampire’s face. The camera shattered, but the force of the blow knocked the vampire backward off the gurney.
Bill ran to the door, shoving it open and escaping into the corridor.
TEN MINUTES LATE, Jessica cursed under her breath. Traffic had been unusually heavy coming across town. Not that it mattered, for Dekker often worked nights and would not be going anywhere. She just hated being rude.
Rushing along the basement corridor while rummaging through her pocketbook for a notebook, Jessica failed to notice anything unusual. The deathly silence. The empty chair where the security guard should be. She did not even hear the corridor door open in front of her. Only when the tall figure with raven black hair stepped into her path did Jessica become aware of her surroundings. She stopped, barely missing running into him.
“Excuse me,” she said politely.
“You must be Miss Reynolds.” Ion said it as a statement rather than a question.
Jessica became wary. “Do I know you?”
“You know of me. I’m Ion Zeilenska. I’m the master Drake Matthews has been hunting.”
Keeping her eyes fixed on Ion, Jessica began to back down the corridor. She had taken only two steps when a door behind her opened. Jessica spun around and gasped.
Two vampires stepped out of a storage room. One was an overweight black woman in a blood-stained nurse’s uniform. The other, over six feet tall with the build of a football linebacker, wore the security guard’s jacket, though it barely fit over its massive chest. Fresh blood covered its mouth and dripped onto the uniform. It kept one hand behind its back.
“Where are you going?” The large vampire grinned sardonically, exposing its yellow fangs. “We’ve only just met.”
Jessica stared at the uniformed creature. She finally had the proof she needed that vampires existed. She would give anything to be ignorant again.
“You’re wearing the guard’s uniform.”
“He won’t need it. How won’t need his hat, either.” The vampire held up the security guard’s severed head. Mangled flesh, tissue, and muscles dangled from what used to be its neck. Blood and bodily fluid dripped onto the floor. The bulging eyes and frozen scream of terror on the guard’s dead lips testified to the horrible death he had endured.
“Oh, dear God.”
“I assure you, Miss Reynolds. God has nothing to do with this.” Ion stepped up behind Jessica and placed his hands on her shoulders.
Jessica spun around, swinging her left forearm up and knocking Ion’s hands off her shoulders. “Get your hands off of me.”
Ion morphed into a vampire. He growled at Jessica and stepped forward, fangs bared. Jessica closed her eyes and braced for the end.
A commotion farther down the hall attracted everyone’s attention. The door to the morgue swung open and Bill stumbled out. He slammed the door after him with such force that he slipped backward, banging into the wall. Regaining his composure, he raced toward Jessica and the others.
“Jessica, we gotta get out here! This place is swarming with vampires!”
Ion spun around to face Bill. “We know.”
Before Bill could respond, Ion grabbed him by the hair and yanked his head back. Ion’s cracked lips receded over his fangs. Bill tried to scream, but in his fear could barely squeak. Ion bent over and plunged his fangs into the front of Bill’s throat. Bill’s muffled scream became a gurgle as the master fed. When finished, Ion yanked his head away, tearing out most of Bill’s throat. Ion let go of Bill, whose body fell to the floor, the fatal wound pouring out his life blood. Ion derisively spit the chunk of flesh onto the dying man.
The vampire from the morgue raced up and stopped short, then looked down at Bill. “I’m sorry, master. He blinded me with his camera then escaped.”
“No harm done.” With his hand, Ion wiped the blood from his mouth and licked his fingers. “This time.”
“What should we do with him?”
“Nothing. He’ll bleed out in a few minutes. Then he’ll be one of us.”
“And the woman?”
“Take her away.”
The vampire nurse and the one from the morgue each grabbed one of Jessica’s arms.
Suddenly, another voice came from the opposite end of the corridor. “How pathetic are you?”
All eyes turned toward the exit. Alison stood by the security guard’s wooden chair.
“It takes a master and three snuffies to take on one woman.” Alison pushed the folds of her leather coat back, draping them behind her hands which rested on her hips. “Maybe you’d like to take a shot at me instead?”
The three vampires turned to Ion. He looked at the vampire in the security guard’s outfit and snarled. “Tear her heart out.”
With a guttural growl, the vampire spun around and charged. Alison stood her ground until the thing approached to within ten feet. Bending over, she grabbed the wooden chair by its legs and swung it with all her strength. The chair slammed against the vampire’s chest and face, shattering with a loud crack. The vampire shook its head, throwing off the shards. Reaching out, it grabbed Alison by the throat and shoved her back against the wall. She could not break free.
“Stupid bitch. Did you think hitting me with a chair would stop me?”
“No. I just needed this.” Alison held up the jagged edge of the broken leg.
The vampire’s eyes widened. Alison drove the jagged edge into its chest, and with a sharp twist plunged it into the vampire’s heart. It bellowed in agony. Releasing its grip on Alison, the vampire stumbled back, pulling on the makeshift stake. Blood gushed from the wound, some of it splattering Alison. Knowing it had only seconds to live, the vampire bared its talons and swung at Alison’s face. She braced herself for the blow, but only got gently slapped by a wisp of ash.
Alison picked up the chair leg and turned to face the others. “Next.”
None of the remaining vampires moved. Ion finally bellowed a command, his voice shaking in fury. “What are you waiting for? Kill her!”
The vampire from the morgue issued an inhuman sound, part snarl and part hiss. It let go of Jessica’s arm and lunged down the corridor. Alison moved forward to confront it.
Which was when Jessica made her move. Now that only one vampire had a grip on her, Jessica threw all of her weight into the vampire nurse, pushing it against the wall with enough force to break its grip. With no one constraining her, Jessica ran down the corridor toward Alison. The vampire from the morgue turned to stop Jessica, a fatal mistake. Coming up from behind, Alison plunged the chair leg into the vampire’s back. She felt the wood ricochet off of a rib, and for a moment she feared she might have missed its heart. Then it howled. The vampire clawed at it
s back, attempting to remove the stake. It continued tearing at its back until the flailed skin disintegrated into ash, and it crumbled to the floor.
“Are you okay?” Alison asked Jessica as she picked up the makeshift stake from the vampire’s remains.
“Yeah. Thanks.”
“Save it. Get out of here while you can.”
Jessica ran for the exit. Alison walked toward the remaining vampires. Ion and the vampire nurse moved to meet her. As they closed on each other, Alison brought her hand to chest level, the stake horizontal and aimed at the approaching menace. Before she could use it, however, Ion grabbed the vampire nurse by the shoulders and pushed it forward, driving it onto the stake. The vampire nurse gave out a startled cry, especially when Ion shoved it farther onto the stake. Ion continued to push the vampire nurse forward, knocking Alison off balance. As she tried to regain her footing, Ion threw the disintegrating remains of the vampire nurse aside, ripping the chair leg out of Alison’s hand. The vampire nurse hit the wall, exploding into a cloud of ash. Ion grabbed Alison by the neck and, in a move that seemed effortless, lifted Alison off her feet and drove her into the door jam.
“You’ve been a pain in my ass for far too long, bitch. Now I’ll send you to hell.”
“Not if I can help it.”
Alison plunged her thumbs into Ion’s eyes and pushed, driving them deep into the orbs. Ion screamed in agony. He slammed Alison against the wall hard, then flung her to the side. She landed fifteen feet down the corridor. Unconscious.
Placing one hand on the wall for guidance, Ion made his way along the corridor to the exit.
“HERE YOU GO.” The taxi driver pulled to a stop in front of the morgue.
“Thanks,” said Drake. “I won’t ask you to wait.”
“I wouldn’t. No offense, but this place gives me the creeps. Maybe you want to be caught dead in a place like this, but not me.”
“Trust me, buddy. That’s the last thing I want.” Drake climbed out onto the sidewalk and closed the car door. The driver pulled his taxi into a U-turn and raced off down the street before Drake had a chance to move.
The Vampire Hunters: Book I of The Vampire Hunters Trilogy Page 19
