Really, it’s not as funny as it sounds when it happens to you.
The only door that was different was the one to the dungeon. It was made of metal. But it wasn’t a cheap tin door, this was heavy-duty steel like the one on the back of Polecats. Over it was a light shining into the dim hall.
I knew why they used the lights-on system to show when a room was empty. It seems more logical to turn the light on when someone was using the room, doesn’t it? Most people, cops included, would assume that the people went into the room and flipped the light on to show they were there. By turning the lights off when someone was in the room, it might fool those who would make the same assumption.
Like cops who were raiding for prostitution.
An officer kicks open the door with the light on and everyone in the other rooms has a few seconds’ warning. It wasn’t foolproof, but it was pretty smart. In a police raid, when you are the criminal any little edge may help you get away.
Pulling Blair close to me, I leaned into her neck to whisper in her ear. My lips brushed her neck and she smelled of a nice, expensive perfume. And snakes. Vampires always smell like snakes. I don’t know why, they just do. Maybe it is the fangs. Her hair was soft as it brushed my cheek.
“This is my last fling before the big plunge.” My lips actually touched her skin. “I’m feeling like being really bad. Let’s do the dungeon. The light is on.”
There was a blink, a tiny fraction of a moment, with her becoming motionless like only the dead can. It was less than a second, but she stiffened and her skin became like stone. In a breath it was over and her imitation of life flowed back into her like magick. She acted like she was breathing, and her skin became soft and pliable again. If I had been a normal guy or maybe not holding her so close, I would have missed it, but now I had what I needed. If Gregorios was here, he was in that room, behind the metal door.
Now I just had to get in there without getting me or Larson killed in the process.
“I’m sorry, sugar, that room is not open right now; it’s being remodeled.” She batted her long eyelashes at me. Sincerity glowed from her eyes. Yeah, right. Her voice dropped down to a throaty purr. “If you want to spank my ass you can, though. I’ll be as naughty as you want to make up for it.” To illustrate her offer, she turned and stuck her ass out, shaking it with an empty promise.
I did what I was supposed to do and lightly smacked her on it. Her skin felt almost alive under my hand. She squealed in mock pleasure and I laughed like a real customer would. We were both playing our parts, she just wasn’t in on my act.
“Well, honey-child, if you mean that, let’s get on with it. Any room will work, I don’t care.”
Grabbing my coat sleeve, she pulled me to a room. My mind was racing. I needed to figure out how to get rid of Blair, get in the dungeon, deal with a 600-year-old vampire and whoever he had guarding him, and keep Larson alive. All before dawn. Should be no problem for a big damn hero like myself.
Yeah, right.
10
Blair’s heart-shaped ass moved in time to the bass line of the music, which thumped from a small stereo on a shelf in the room. I was sitting on a vinyl couch that smelled like sweat and disinfectant. The carpet in the room was blue indoor/outdoor, the paint on the walls gray and cheap. Beside the sagging couch was a small table with lotion and Kleenex. The trash can underneath it was filled with crumpled tissues.
Hey, they don’t call these places jack shacks for nothing.
I had slipped on my sunglasses so I could think without having to keep my attention on Blair. She was dancing and touching herself with the music. The swimsuit was long gone and crumpled in the corner. My mind was trying to figure out a way to either get away from Blair or make her help me without tipping off her master.
The walls were too thin for me to shoot her unless I had to. The big problem was that I had no idea if Blair could do mind-to-mind communication with her master. If she could, then I would not be able to force her to help me. Hell, even if she didn’t have that ability, a scream from her would still bring vamps a running. Then the gig was up and I would probably lose Gregorios. But we were toward the end of the song, so I was going to have to do something or Blair was going to get suspicious.
Her back was still to me, ass still moving up and down to the beat of the music. I slid the ASP out as discreetly as I could. If she were anything but a vampire, I would use it to choke her to unconsciousness, but vampires don’t need to breathe, so that option was off the table.
Keeping the ASP in the folds of my jacket, I slid down on the couch, putting my feet between her legs. She took the bait, thinking I was getting into her dance, and moved back so she was right over my lap. My right fist closed around the ASP and my left lightly smacked her ass, making a pop heard over the music.
Turning, she looked over her shoulder with a smile. My hand rubbed her where I had smacked and she threw her head back in faked pleasure. Blond hair flew over her face and whipped back toward me. Leaning up, my left hand snaked into it. Her hair was a thick and heavy silk between my fingers. I closed my fist, jerked her by the hair to the left, and used my outstretched feet to trip her. She lost her balance and I used my weight to ride her over onto the couch with me on her back.
She fought with all her vampire strength, but I had the advantage of leverage. Laying on her, I shoved her face into the couch and drew back my fist with the ASP. Using the ASP as a fist load will increase your damage potential by about 300%. It makes a regular punch into a bone crusher.
My fist smashed into the back of her skull and it felt like I hit granite. Blair began to buck under me like I had plugged her into a live wire. I began to pound into her head as she bucked and fought and screamed into the couch. Finally, as my hand felt like it was going to break, she slumped loose and liquid against the couch.
I hit her a few more times to make sure she was good and out, and not faking it.
Slowly, fist still raised, I climbed off of her. It took me a minute to get my fingers out of her hair. The heavy locks of it were tangled in my fingers and sticky with black blood. The vampire didn’t move the entire time.
Blair was out cold.
Unfortunately, I was going to have to leave her. I had nothing to bind her with and no way to kill her without her waking and raising bloody hell. I hated leaving her alive, but I didn’t have a choice. Settling my jacket back over me, the ASP slid back into its holster. Out came the shotgun.
The great thing about a shotgun is that the shell is just a shaped charge behind a payload. This means you can load a shotgun shell with a large variety of materials for a wide choice of applications. I pulled out some specialty shells and reloaded it. My first four rounds were loaded with Mini-Missiles. These were solid lead slugs with a steel core and a high charge. On impact, the lead peels away, driving the steel core forward and through to penetrate a hard surface.
It’s used for lightly armored vehicles but also works just fine on steel doors.
The last four shells were Dragon’s Breath, which were white phosphorus loads that ignited on being shot and created a 100-yard flamethrower for three seconds. Fire is always good against monsters. Few supernatural creatures are proof against fire. Pretty much just demons, and dragons. I wasn’t planning on running into any of them tonight.
I hadn’t figured out a way to sneak into the dungeon, so I was going in blasting. That was fine by me because at the end of the day, subtle is not really my thing. Given a choice, I usually opt for blowing a bunch of shit up and sorting it out later. They would know I was coming the second I tried the door, but I knew what Gregorios looked like, so anything in there that wasn’t him was fair game.
Slowly, I opened the door to the room. Glancing right and then left proved the hall to be clear. I stepped out, pulling the door shut behind me. Ten long strides took me to the dungeon doors. Placing my feet apart to brace for the shotgun’s recoil, I took aim and fired. The highly charged shells caused a huge kick that I let roll
my arms back and then forward, jacking the slide to chamber another shell. Concussion from the muzzle rolled off the steel doors and blew back the flaps of my jacket. The top hinge of the left door peeled open like a banana.
Lining up the muzzle with the bottom hinge, I fired again. That hinge also exploded and the door sagged from the frame. I chose to shoot the hinges instead of the lock because if you don’t completely destroy a high-quality lock, it will often still hold, and the lock side of a door is usually reinforced. People don’t reinforce the side with the hinges very often. Kick in a few doors and you will find the hinges are the weak link of most of them. Two more shots to the other door’s hinges and they were hanging like two drunk friends trying to keep each other standing.
Shouts came from inside the doors, but I couldn’t hear what they were saying or figure out how many monsters there were inside the dungeon. That’s one thing about firing guns, especially shotguns, inside a building. It makes your hearing go to shit.
Leaning back, I balanced on one leg and threw the other at the center of the sagging doors. My foot met the disheveled doors and they crashed into the room. Shotgun ready, I stepped inside.
The dungeon had a Gothic-style waiting room. Black walls and blood-red drapes. The décor was faux Victorian and fetish leather. Candelabras and recessed fixtures provided dim lighting. Directly across from me, floor-to-ceiling drapes hung in a heavy crimson brocade, barricading the rest of the dungeon.
A flurry of cloth revealed two hulking vampires. They were muscle-bound with their faces distended into predator mode. One of them was wearing black leather motorcycle clothing that looked like armor. Wicked steel spikes bristled from him, glistening in the candlelight.
Unfortunately for him, those spikes grabbed the red drape he had pushed aside. The heavy cloth wrapped around his arm like a trap. Jerking it like a fish on the line, he pulled the entire drape down onto him. Fabric fell over him, covering him like a net.
I used the opportunity to fire off the first Dragon’s Breath shell I had. A huge lick of yellow flame and thick white smoke blasted from the end of the gun. The smoke made it hard to see, but the spiky vampire caught fire as the drape he was tangled in ignited. He flailed around, fanning the flames that ripped over him. Tongues of fire licked at him and began to burn with an intensity that cut through the haze. Phosphorus smoke and oily vampire soot began to fill the air, making my eyes water.
The second vampire scrambled away from his fallen companion. Turning to look at me, his jaw slung down in a howl of rage. Taloned hands came up as he launched himself at me, flying across the room. He was nearly my size and fast as hell.
I saw he was wearing a similar getup as his partner, just minus the spikes. His face was distended and knotted with muscles as he tried to strike at me. His fangs were out, and spittle flew from them. Bulging eyes were shot through with blood, and ropes of veins stood out from his skin. He was a vampire at his most feral, all pretense of humanity stripped away, an animal, a monster.
I had just enough time to turn my shoulder to him as he slammed into me.
It was like getting hit by a small car. The blow took me off my feet and drove the breath from my lungs. I managed to hold on to the shotgun, but just barely. Riding me to the ground, he grabbed my head, trying to force it to the side so he had a clear shot at the vein in my neck.
Taloned fingernails dug into the back of my skull. The pain was sharp and immediate. It burned like only a scrape or scratch will, like there was a match lit in four places on the back of my skull. The only thing keeping him back was my big arm and shoulder. I wasn’t holding him back, it was just in his way because it was trapped between us. While he lay on me, trying for my neck, I drove my knee into his ribs.
It connected solidly and lifted him up off of me. Ribs caved under the blow, I felt them pop and sag into his chest cavity. They gave with enough movement I was sure that I had driven a bone or two into his lungs, but again, vampires don’t have to breathe, so it didn’t really help. He still slowly made progress to the vein in my neck.
I was in a bad position. He didn’t care if he drank my blood before or after he broke my neck. I had to get him off of me, because fighting to keep my head down while he pulled on it with that devilish strength was making the muscles in my neck and jaw spasm. I was not going to be able to last much longer.
My other arm still had the shotgun, but it was pressed on the ground and I couldn’t swing the gun to bear. I was out of options, so I did the only thing I could do. Driving my knee into his side again, I let go of the shotgun.
I hate letting go of my gun.
As he was lifted up, I dropped the shotgun and went for my cross. My fingers closed on the steel chain it was on and yanked it out of my shirt. I pushed it hard against his cheek and the effect was immediate. My hand was outlined in white blue light as the cross flared to life. Heat grew where I pressed the blessed silver to vampire flesh. Against my hand I could feel the holy heat as discomfort, but the side pressed to vampire flesh was smoking and sizzling. With a violent convulsion, the vampire flew off of me and headed to the ceiling.
My hand snagged the leather of his jacket and I clenched my fingers into a fist to hold him there. He wasn’t touching the cross anymore, but the skin under his eye and down his jaw bubbled with blisters. A red and black cross-shaped hole had dissolved into his cheek from being burnt by contact. The cross still glowed its holy light, causing small sores to erupt on the vampire’s skin where it fell. He jerked against my hold, trying to get away, but my grip was firm. German tanker boot met vampire knee. The joint gave with a wet pop and he slammed around to the ground.
I didn’t try to stand up. Madly scrambling for the shotgun, I closed my free hand around its grip. Still holding the cross above him, I sat on his chest and shoved the short barrel of the gun into his mouth. Fangs cracked on the metal. His jaw distended like a snake’s as I pushed the barrel farther in, causing the burnt flesh on his face to crack and some blisters to pop, running yellow fluid. There was bloodshot white completely surrounding his pupils as his eyes flew open in pain and fear.
“Go to Hell, fangface.”
My finger squeezed the trigger. Recoil shuddered up my arm and I rolled off of him. The phosphorus load ran through his body, cutting trails of light through his skin. Bubbles formed on the surface, thinning as they expanded to pop, spitting molten flesh and sighing steam. Cracks ran across his torso and flames leaked through. With the smell of sulphur and spoiled bacon, he disintegrated before my eyes, crumbling into ash and dust.
Slowly, I rolled to my knees, crouching with the shotgun held steady. Reaching in my coat pocket, I pulled shotgun shells out and reloaded by feel. My neck was aching from fighting with him. Twisting my head made the vertebrae pop into alignment with a satisfying sound, tension cracking out of the bones in my neck. It felt better immediately. My neck still hurt, but now I should be okay until I rested.
Once I rested, my muscles would stiffen up from lactic acid buildup. The scrapes on the back of my head burned like a son of a bitch. Carefully, I touched them and came away with blood on my fingertips. Worse, I felt that he had actually dug furrows of skin from the back of my head with his talons. I hoped he hadn’t messed up my tattoo back there. Wiping my hand on my T-shirt, I stood to my feet. Fuck it. Do what needs to be done, worry about the pain later.
Priorities.
Speaking of, I still had to find the vampire I came here for. I started moving farther into the dungeon. The spiky vampire had revealed a dark hallway when he tore down the drape. My head swiveled left and right as I walked in, trying to see the danger I knew was in there.
It’s a strange thing to walk into a room or area where you know for a fact there is something that wants to kill you and is waiting to do that very thing. You walk slower. Each step seems to take you only a few inches at a time. Every noise you can hear is magnified. Your heartbeat thuds in your chest and your breathing fills your ears. Patterns in shadows seem to move o
n their own. You feel like you can’t see all that is there.
This hallway was dark and had a fake stone surface on the walls. There were two doorways at the end: one on the left, one on the right. I had no idea which one to choose. I put the shotgun in its holster and drew the Desert Eagle. The room should be more confined, and Gregorios should be inside. I would need to be more precise with my shots, so I changed guns. Standing for a second, I flipped a coin in my mind as to which door I would take. I had decided tails, door on the left, when the decision was made for me.
The door on the left opened slowly. A huge, hairy shape ducked low to fit through the doorway. Its bullet-shaped head had thick, heavy brows. Covered in coarse black fur, wrinkled skin surrounded its beady eyes. It was a gorilla of gigantic proportions. A thick neck flowed into heavily muscled shoulders that attached long arms to a wide chest. Shuffling forward on thickly bowed legs, its enormous knuckled hands drug along the ground. It turned to face me and a roar tore from that throat. A mouth big enough to cover my head stretched wide to show yellow canines about the size of small daggers and just about as deadly. Even from ten feet away I felt hot breath wash over me from the force of its roar.
That thing inside of me that recognizes magick welled up. It curled through my body in response to this creature. That was bad news. It would be bad enough to be dealing with a gorilla, but my luck was to be dealing with a WWere-gorrilla.
Hell’s bells. Normal gorillas are strong enough to tear a man limb from limb. Lycanthropes were insanely strong. Strong enough to tear steel. A WWere-gorrilla would be able to crush stone in his hands. Plus, he would be human smart.
Backing away, I kept the gun pointed at him. He roared again and shuffled forward. I had the same problem with him as I’d had with Greggie earlier. If this lycanthrope was being coerced by Gregorios’s powers to attack me, then I did not want to kill him. No matter what he looked like right now, he was essentially human. If he attacked me, all bets were off and I would put a cap in his ass; but for now, he was just threatening. I lowered the gun slightly and raised my chin at him.
Blood and Bullets Page 11