Toni, however, had had enough. She raced down the walkway to the far end. Jumping onto the outer guardrail, she propelled herself through the air, sailing one hundred yards and landing on the pavilion’s far wall. She scrambled up the wooden wall and disappeared over the top. Spinning around, she knelt down, staying out of sight as she watched the battle play out. Toni desperately hoped Ion would be all right.
AFTER A MINUTE that seemed like an eternity, Jessica felt her feet hit cement. When the edge of the platform connected with the tops of the seats, she swung her hands over the klieg lights and stepped back so as not to be crushed. After scanning the area to make certain she was not in any immediate danger, Jessica used her teeth to untie the knot around her hands.
Above her, an explosion rocked the pavilion. Jessica ducked seconds before being showered with shards of broken glass. She stood up to examine herself, relieved to find only a few minor cuts and scrapes. Nothing to worry about.
Jessica looked up to the walkway where she last saw Drake, but he had escaped. She scanned the loge and balcony sections, but saw no sign of him. She spotted Alison running along the opposite walkway toward the lawn. Not wanting to be alone, Jessica set off after her.
REACHING THE END OF THE WALKWAY, Drake raced around the corner abutment and started down the lawn.
And ran directly into Ion.
The master grabbed Drake by the throat and squeezed tightly, cutting off Drake’s supply of air. Drake struggled in vain to break the iron-hard grip. “You’re not so tough without the bitch to help you, are you?”
Ion’s hand clasped Drake’s throat tighter, stopping the flow of blood to the brain. Drake felt himself becoming disoriented. He clawed at the vampire’s hand and arm, digging his nails into the skin and tearing out chunks of dead flesh.
Ion brought his arm close, pulling Drake’s face into his own. “Don’t worry, hunter. I don’t plan on killing you that easily.”
With a mighty thrust, Ion threw Drake twenty feet across the lawn. Drake landed on his back, knocking out of him what little wind he had left. He gasped frantically for air. Too weak to stand, Drake rolled onto his stomach and tried to crawl away.
Ion stepped up beside Drake. Grabbing him by the hair, Ion lifted the hunter off the ground. Morphing into a vampire, he shoved his face into Drake’s. “I need to pay you back for all the aggravation you’ve put me through. This is for my children you’ve hunted down and butchered.”
Ion threw Drake another twenty feet. Drake hit his head on the cement pathway. His vision blurred. Only vaguely aware of his surroundings, he rolled onto his stomach and raised himself onto his hands and knees. When Drake opened his eyes, the ground spun beneath him. He swayed, nearly passing out.
“This is for your bitch blinding me in the morgue.”
Ion kicked Drake in the ribcage. The hunter left the ground, spun twice, and landed ten feet away on his stomach. He tried to breath, but pain shot through his ribcage, and his lungs ached as he drew in air. Drake could not tell if he was lying on his chest or back. A hand grabbed him by the shirt and yanked him off the ground.
“This is for disfiguring Antoinette.”
Ion tossed the hunter into the gardener’s cart. Drake bounced off, falling onto the tools that were on the ground. His chest erupted in spasms of agony. The blades of the three-foot-long shears cut into his face.
Ion walked up behind Drake. He twisted his neck right and left, removing the kinks in preparation for feeding, then snarled in hatred.
“And this is for being foolish enough to challenge me.”
JESSICA RUSHED OUT of the orchestra section in time to see Ion ambush Drake. Ducking down behind the small cement retaining wall that ran along the edge of the lawn, she ran hunched over. She passed underneath the left-hand walkway, jumped up onto the lawn and, using the cement abutment as cover, ran up to the walkway entrance. She found Jim crouching behind the abutment.
Jim spun around, falling backwards against the cement. He lifted the stake to stab her, but lowered it when he saw who it was.
“Jesus, you scared the shit out of me.”
“Why are you hiding while Drake is getting his ass kicked?”
“I’m not hiding,” Jim said defensively. “I just got here myself.”
“Then do something?”
“What? Charge a master across an open lawn. With his sense of smell? He’d take me down before I could get near.”
“So then we just sit?”
“No. We have to sneak up on it.”
The wood chipper sat fifty feet away, providing them with cover.
“You stay here,” ordered Jim.
“Screw that. I’m going with you.”
Jim sighed. “Okay. But stay low.”
ALISON REACHED THE ENTRANCE to the right-hand walkway in time to see Ion throw Drake into the gardener’s cart. She broke into a run. Ion got to Drake first, hovering over him, taunting him.
Oh God, pleaded Alison. Don’t let him die like this…
“AND THIS IS FOR BEING foolish enough to challenge me.”
If Drake did not act now, he would die. He could not see very well, but he could feel. In particular, the pruning shears beneath him that cut into his skin. Grabbing the handles, Drake waited until he saw Ion’s knees bending, then used what little strength remained to roll onto his back and raise the shears. He hoped to catch the master’s neck and decapitate, but only partially raised the shears. Instead, the V-shaped prongs plunged into Ion’s chest on either side of his heart. Drake tried to close them, but did not have the strength. Ion grabbed the handles and yanked the shears out of Drake’s hands. Pulling gently so as not to damage his heart, Ion removed the shears from his chest, then tossed them as far away as possible. The wound was damaging, but not fatal. Ion needed to get away as quickly as possible in order to regenerate.
Alison slammed into Ion, knocking them both to the ground. She quickly rolled over into a standing position, the stake still in her right hand, and charged Ion again. Ion got to his knees and blocked her. Grabbing her by the wrist, Ion twisted roughly, forcing open Alison’s palm. She dropped the stake. Still clutching Alison’s wrist, Ion rose to his feet and flung her by the arm against the wood chipper. She cracked her head on the debris chute, momentarily dazed.
With difficulty, Drake struggled to his feet, using the gardener’s cart as support. He watched as Ion tossed Alison against the wood chipper. His mind told him to go to her aid, but his body would not respond.
Ion walked over to the chipper. Bending over, he clutched Alison by the leg and dragged her from under the chute. Alison clawed at the ground to get away, but succeeded only in grabbing a handful of dirt and grass. When Ion stopped pulling, she rolled onto her back and gazed into the master’s face.
“I’ve had enough of you two.” Ion spat the words. “This ends right now.”
“Sounds good to me.” Alison threw the dirt and grass into Ion’s eyes, blinding him. Bringing her left leg up to her chest, she kicked out and slammed the heel of her boot into Ion’s wound. He cried out, half a bellow of pain and half a howl of fury. Ion bent over, gasping.
Drake summoned his strength and rushed forward, aiming at the blurred image that he hoped was Ion. Colliding with the master, Drake shoved its head down the debris chute. Holding it in place, Drake turned to Jim.
“Turn it on!”
Jim scanned the chipper until he found a green button labeled START, then pressed it. The machine thundered to life. The blades made a sickening thud as they dug into Ion’s head. Ion bellowed, an agonizing cry that shook Drake to his marrow. Ion tried to pull himself free, but the blades dug in too deeply. He howled and thrashed about until his skull shattered, spilling brain and tissue that was instantly chewed into pulp. Bits of fractured skull and brain matter shot out the exit chute, followed by a stream of blood. Jim did not hit the STOP button until the chipper started spitting out ash.
As the chipper ground to a halt, an eerie silence fell over Wolf Tr
ap. Only the sounds of approaching sirens broke the silence.
Jessica raced over to Drake and hugged him. He returned the gesture, but only for a few seconds before dropping to his knees. Jessica cupped his face in her hands. “Are you all right?”
“Just exhausted. How about you?”
“I’ll live.”
“That’s why we’re here.” Drake gave her hand a squeeze.
Drake looked around to see how the others had faired. He watched Alison sit up, steadying herself on the gore-stained debris chute. She saw him and smiled. “Looks like I owe you again for saving my life.”
“It’s easier than training a replacement. How are you doing?”
“I could use a few days off.”
Drake smiled. “We all could.”
The sirens drew closer. Flashing red and blue lights reflected off the trees outside the main entrance. Jim stepped over and crouched in front of Drake. “Do you think we should get out of here?”
“No.” It was the only response he could muster.
The four of them sat in silence, waiting for the police and emergency vehicles to arrive. And thankful to be alive.
FROM HER PERCH on top of the pavilion, Toni had a bird’s eye view of the battle between Ion and the hunters. She hoped to watch Ion kill them, but instead witnessed his death. The only emotion she could muster for Ion was a single tear. She wiped her eye and stood. Running across the roof of the pavilion, Toni dove off of the top and disappeared into the surrounding night.
12.
TONI CLIMBED THE ENTRYWAY from the sewer into the basement of the row house, and then paused to rest. She was exhausted. Physically. Mentally. Spiritually. The events of the last eight hours had drained her more than she originally thought.
After escaping from Wolf Trap, Toni walked for several miles along the deserted road that led back to the urban areas, looking for a means of transportation back to Washington. Eventually she found her ride at a small rest area, nothing more than a dirt road that branched off the main street and doglegged behind a copse of trees before reconnecting with the main road. A young man sat behind the wheel, unbeknownst to him his life span now measured in minutes.
As she approached the vehicle, Toni noticed that the man was not alone. A petite blonde sat in the passenger’s seat, leaning over into his lap and pleasing him with her mouth. Toni stealthily waited until she heard him groan. She then opened the door, clasped his head in both hands, and twisted it one hundred and eighty degrees. The blonde looked up, shocked, cum splattered across her mouth and chin. Before the girl could scream, Toni had clasped a taloned hand over her face and squeezed until the little blonde head erupted like a rotten melon. Toni’s only regret had been, after licking her hand clean of the gore and tasting the young man’s cum, that she could not have spent the time to feast on his vitality. But with time running out, Toni disposed of the bodies in a nearby creek and took their car back into Washington.
By the time she reached the District, the rapidly approaching dawn tinted the eastern horizon reddish-orange. Vehicles filled with early commuters began to fill the main roads and side streets, making it difficult for her to move around unnoticed. Toni drove to an abandoned neighborhood a few blocks from the row house before she found an isolated spot near a row of condemned stores to park the car. She disappeared down a nearby manhole just as the first rays of the sun broke over the building tops and washed down the street. Ten minutes later, she arrived at the row house.
An eerily empty row house.
Toni made her way upstairs to the kitchen and into the foyer. Once thriving with activity, the row house now sat silent. She looked into each room as she passed by, as if hoping to find the members of the coven resting after a night of feeding. Instead, she found only empty mattresses soiled with blood. The corpses of humans and small animals in various stages of decay. And piles of clothes and shoes, the detritus of previous victims.
She trudged up the winding staircase and stopped at the landing. Resting her hands on the railing, Toni peered down into the emptiness. She felt guilty at having survived. No. Not guilty, for guilt was a human emotion. Disgust. Or better yet, contempt. Contempt for allowing the hunters to live. Contempt for not dying honorably in battle. Contempt for abandoning the coven to preserve her own existence.
Spinning around, Toni made her way to the master bedroom. She swung open the twin doors and stared, half hoping to find Ion in bed with a young tramp, seducing her, feeding on her. The room was empty except for a rat that scurried across the mattress, feeding off what human remains it could find. Crossing the bedroom, Toni entered the bathroom. The door felt heavy. She shoved, pushing across the tiled floor a decaying corpse left over from an earlier meal. A wave of maggots washed out of the rotten chest cavity while a horde of cockroaches scurried for safety. Toni paid no attention, her interest being drawn to the shards of a shattered mirror whose remnants hung on the wall above the sink.
The image that greeted Toni set off a fury in her. She placed a hand over her mouth and felt the lips. The holy water the huntress had worn had seared Toni’s lips and gums like acid. In this situation, her regenerative powers would be useless. While the rawness of the wounds would heal, the scarring would be permanent. Just like her chest. Thanks to that bitch, Toni’s once stunningly-attractive body had been turned into a walking deformity, a monstrosity. She would no longer be able to entice young men to her bed, sucking them of their energy before draining them of their life blood. Thanks to her hideousness, she could no longer enjoy the thrill of the seduction, but would have to hunt her meals like a predator. For all eternity.
For that, the huntress would pay dearly.
Bunching her fingers into a fist, Toni punched the mirror shards, shattering them even further and holing the wall. The crunch of bone mixed with breaking tile. A rush of pain excited Toni’s senses as her knuckles and wrists fractured under the stress. No matter. These wounds would regenerate. Until they did, they would help focus her mind and fuel her lust for revenge.
The huntress would pay.
They all would.
Toni would rebuild the coven. It would take time, but time was the one thing the undead had in abundance. She would quickly produce a few vampires to serve as bodyguards and hunter-gatherers, and would lay low until fully regenerated. Then she would reconstitute the coven. This time, however, it would be larger and stronger. She would not make the same mistakes as Ion. Her vampires would prowl throughout the city, pulling in victims from all corners of the District, overwhelming the hunters’ ability to fight back. She would choose the members of the coven carefully, selecting only the strongest, the most cunning, and the most cruel. All others who passed through this row house would serve as little more than cattle off of which the coven would feed.
Once the coven became too powerful for the hunters to stop, Toni would take care of them once and for all. The child was irrelevant, a mere nuisance. She would give him to the coven to do with as they pleased. Alison, however, would suffer indescribable tortures by Toni’s own hands. Toni intended to disfigure her, to tear the beauty from the huntress just as the bitch had done to her. She would put the huntress through physical torments unimaginable by humans. And Drake Matthews would be forced to watch. The huntress’ suffering would stop only when the hunter agreed to join Toni as a master. Once he joined Toni as her servant, his first task would be to turn the huntress into a vampire.
Toni and Drake then would sire more masters, mentor them, and dispatch them throughout the States to establish covens in other cities, each beholden to her.
But all that lay in the future. Right now, Toni needed to rest. She crawled into bed and fell asleep, her lust for revenge deforming her mind as surely as the holy water had deformed her body.
* * *
THE NEXT TWENTY-FOUR HOURS held no surprises for Drake and Alison, though it did open a whole new realm of experiences for Jim and Jessica.
A horde of police cars, fire engines, and emergency vehi
cles descended upon Wolf Trap, responding to numerous phone calls from nearby residents who reported hearing explosions or witnessing flames coming from the pavilion. What they found were three fuel-induced fires burning out of control, significant destruction to the pavilion, and four exhausted and battered trespassers. Within hours, the small group of suspects was behind bars in the Vienna Police Station charged with breaking and entering, trespassing, arson, willful destruction of property, numerous firearms violations, and a host of other indictments that surely would grow with time.
When allowed to make their obligatory phone calls, Drake contacted Smith and requested bail. With his usual unemotional professionalism, tinted with a slight tone of frustration, Smith told him to sit tight and give him a few hours. Jessica placed her call to Dan, whose response was highly emotional and less professional. Once through with the initial round of ranting and profanity, Dan agreed to come down and get her out, and asked what bail had been set at. After the second round of ranting and profanity, Dan promised to be there as soon as he could raise the money.
The interrogation process did not veer from the usual. Alison refused to answer any questions despite all manner of intimidation. Her interrogators even tried the bad cop/worse cop routine, which amused her. Drake agreed to cooperate if he could have an iced coffee and a cigar, then proceeded to answer each question with a variation of “I don’t know” until his interrogators brought him back to his cell.
The Vampire Hunters: Book I of The Vampire Hunters Trilogy Page 23
