by Roger Keller
Dominique screamed in French. The only word I understood was Hector. The creature cocked it’s head, some part of his animal mind recognized her. The partisans opened fire with everything they had. Hector shot past Dominique, bullets hitting his massive body like raindrops. He didn’t even flinch. Hector tore his way through the partisans with wolfish glee, or maybe it was human glee.
Nazis in SS uniforms stormed into the room from all sides. They surrounded Dominique and the partisans, but kept their distance from the slaughter. All their weapons were trained on Hector while he took the last partisans apart. Dominique looked side to side for an opening.
I did a double take at the SS men. They were all vampires. Their eyes glowed faintly and some of them lacked claws and fangs, but they were vampires of some sort. Words like debased and degraded came to mind.
Dominique looked back in time to see Hector close his wolfish jaws on the last partisan’s head. Blood and brain matter burst out between his teeth. Dominique cursed and tensed up, but remained in place. Behind her the pack of SS vampires parted.
A voice spoke in cultured French. Dominique spun around. Her shoulders slumped and her claws retracted. Duke DeVoss appeared next to her. He wore the same gold accented uniform that I saw in my earlier vision. Dominique’s servant pointed his revolver at the Duke’s head. DeVoss raised his hand. The servant flew back and landed on what was left of one of the partisans. Dominique ran her fingers across her brother’s forehead. A fresh scar marred his handsome face.
Dominique tried to speak. DeVoss held a finger to her lips and turned to me. His eyes narrowed and he cocked his head. My heart flip flopped. Time to wake up. He pointed at me and barked in German. Confused SS vampires swept their MP-40s across the room.
“Who, what are you?” Duke DeVoss said in perfect British English. “I suppose it matters not, you sorry looking Englishman. Leave us. You have no power here.” He waved his hand and everything went black.
*****
I woke up in Dominique’s guest room, thrashing in the bed. Heather grumbled next to me. She’d piled all the blankets on herself again. Her hand was locked on my backpack. “At least that’ll be safe.” Misty shifted under the bed, her claws scraping the wooden floor. I checked my phone, it was 4 PM. Time to look for something to eat.
When my foot hit the floor Misty’s clawed hand shot out from under the bed, but paused short of touching me. Her claws retracted and she patted my foot. She purred like a satisfied house cat.
I checked my weapons, laced up my boots and walked into the hall. A big-box-store ceiling bubble camera buzzed overhead. I waved at whoever was watching.
Dominique’s butler waited at the end of the hall. “This way, sir.”
I followed him back to the dining room. Dominique sat at the antique dinner table, looking glamorous in her silk bathrobe. She sipped a glass of blood and swayed, sun-drunk.
“Did you sleep well?” she said.
“Of course not.” I sat down across from her.
The butler placed a wooden tray with toast and jam in front of me.
“Thanks buddy,” I said. “Can you get me a Bloody Mary?”
He nodded and disappeared without a sound.
“I can’t sleep today, bad memories,” Dominique said, trying to make bored small talk. “Have you had any other visions?”
“Yeah,” I said. “I saw you, in World War Two France.”
“Any other details?” she said.
“You really want to know?” I said.
She nodded and sipped her blood.
“I saw that guy Hector, fully transformed.” Dominique dropped her glass. “He killed your friends from the French Resistance. I saw your brother and his vampire stormtroopers. He saw me.”
“You.” Dominique pointed at me, claws out. “You were the specter Martin saw that night. My God.” She rubbed her face in her hands. “After all this time.” She shook her head. “He thought you were an English agent, astral-projecting himself.”
“I don’t know what to say. I mean, you asked.” I took a bite of my toast. “I’m sorry about what happened to your friends though.”
“Thank you for that,” she said.
“How’d you escape, anyway?” I said.
The butler returned with my Bloody Mary.
“I didn’t,” Dominique said. “Martin, no he wasn’t Martin anymore, had come for me that night, just because he was in the area. Those poor, brave partisans, he crushed them like insects. Some part of his bullet-shattered mind remembered me. He, the Duke I mean, wanted to sleep with me.” She snapped her fingers and the butler brought her a fresh glass of blood. Awkward silence followed. I picked at my toast while she studied her glass. “Not the worst sex I’ve ever had.”
“Your brother, huh?” I said. “Well, that’s not the weirdest story I’ve heard, so far.”
“Heather’s awake,” Dominique said. “Strange, I initially thought she was the mistress of her own coven, as powerful as she is. And then there’s your unwholesome relationship with her.”
“What about it?” Heather appeared behind Dominique from out of nowhere.
Dominique smiled and clapped at Heather’s trick. “Bravo.”
Heather struck a pose and floated over the table. Dominique raised her glass and smirked. Heather touched down in the chair to my right and looked seasick for a second. She grabbed the table and steadied herself. Dominique hailed the butler, who brought Heather a glass of blood.
“Everything is spinning out of control these days,” Dominique said. “Even during the war, a person at least knew where they stood. There were rules, a code of conduct that stood for over two thousand years. Now we can’t wait to feud and destroy each other over territory.”
“I’ve heard shit like that before.” Heather paused to gulp half her glass down. “Like, what’s your point? Nothing lasts forever. Whatever’s coming, shit, we couldn’t stop it if we tried.”
“You may be right,” Dominique said. “Seeing a vampire hunter again, after nearly two decades, seems to be a sign. I’ve seen a lot of signs lately, none of them good.”
Heather turned to me, her hand shielding her face from Dominique, and rolled her eyes.
“Anyway, my point is that it’s all a bit strange,” Dominique said.
Heather giggled. “What? It’s always been strange.”
We all laughed, even Dominique, but I could tell she was worried.
Chapter 3
Dominique and a few of the braver members of her coven waved as we headed for Heather’s Suburban. Misty smiled and waved back.
“Quit that,” Heather said. “They’re being sarcastic.”
“I know.” Misty laughed.
I checked my backpack for the hundredth time. The parking lot guard looked up from his magazine and gulped. He opened the gate and shuffled out of the guard shack, then waddled his way down the dark street. He never looked back.
“We’re not stopping again,” I said. “We’re going straight to Marcello’s. We’ll drive past the front steps of his mansion and throw the book out like a Sunday paper. Then it’s his fucking problem.”
“You know it’s not going to be that easy,” Heather said.
“Yeah, and I wanna meet Marcello,” Misty said.
“Oh, fuck no,” I said. “Heather, seriously, that’s a bad idea.”
I tossed the backpack into the Suburban. Heather and Misty ignored me and kept talking while we headed out of town.
*****
We got pulled over on a deserted highway a few miles outside of Riverton. Red and blue lights flashed in the mirrors. There was no siren.
“Goddammit.” I punched the wheel.
I hit my turn signal and pulled over.
“You probably should keep driving,” Heather said, “or not. I’m up for a fight.”
A black unmarked Explorer pulled in front of me and stopped hard.
“Get ready,” Heather said.
Officers in full tactical gear hustled out
of the Explorer, AR-15s and shotguns ready to go.
“Aw, what the fuck now?” I said.
An officer appeared on each side of the Suburban, covering us from behind. As I looked back at them I realized I couldn’t see Misty. I sensed her though, crouching in the back seat, waiting. She was probably loving this.
“Get out of the fucking vehicle,” the officer behind me shouted. “Now.”
The officers surrounded us as we stepped out of the Suburban. I didn’t bother holding my hands up. They weren’t real cops, or at least they weren’t on any official business. Their tactical vests were covered with crudely painted, mystical symbols. No badges or rank were visible.
I looked back at Heather and saw the air ripple around her.
“Nice try bitch.” One of the officers held up a gold amulet on a para-cord loop.
Heather spun around, scythe-like claws splitting her fingernails. The officers backed up and trained their guns on her.
“There’s no need for that.” The tracksuit wearing vampire from Dominique’s dinner party approached us. He wore black tactical gear like the others. A Katana hung from his belt in place of a sidearm.
“What do you want, asshole?” Heather said.
“It’s hard to explain,” he said. “I’m Bradley, by the way. Not that it matters. I want what’s in that backpack. It’s a book, isn’t it?”
Heather made a face. “We’re cool with Dominique.”
“So was Aaron, and we knew him for years,” Bradley said.
“You want what, like some kind of payback?” Heather said.
“Not really,” Bradley said while he scratched his short blonde hair. “I dreamed about the book. I know that’s what you’re transporting. An ancient book with such power, for whoever possesses it. There are so many problems I could solve with it, so many friends I could bring back.”
“Did you dream about the evil motherfucker who owns the book?” Heather crossed her arms, letting her clawed fingers hang loose.
“I could care less. I haven’t felt this good in years. This is right. I know it.” Bradley’s eyes darted around. He stuck his head in the Suburban. “Where the hell is the other one?”
“There’s only two, sir,” an officer with a Seventies style porn mustache said.
Bradley grabbed the cop by the throat and pulled him close. The other officers stepped back.
“You redneck clown,” Bradley said. “There was a younger vampire,” he pointed at Heather, “her apprentice. Where the fuck is she?”
“We, never, saw her,” the officer clawed at the hand on his throat. Bradley threw him into the Suburban.
“Where is she?” He pointed at Heather.
Heather shrugged. “I don’t know. Like, she probably wandered off. I’m not her mom, or something.”
“Fine, it doesn’t matter anyway.” He reached into the Suburban and pulled out my backpack. “Come with me. If you-”
“Fuck no,” Heather said. “I ain’t going anywhere with you.”
Bradley slid the book out and tossed the backpack into the tall grass by the side of the road. The book fell open, like a huge Bible in the hands of some insane traveling preacher. Bradley’s blue eyes lit up smoldering red. Something seemed to be guiding him. Bradley’s hands moved in a blur as he leafed through the book.
“There we go,” he said. “I don’t know how, but I can read this. It’s an ancient dialect of Greek that they used to use in the Roman Empire.” Bradley smiled and raised his left hand. He said something and the air went cold. Heather dropped to the pavement like a stone.
“Excellent,” he said.
I reached for one of my pistols.
“Are you insane,” Bradley said. “I have six guns pointed at you.”
“You got five,” I said. “You choked out number six. He’s still on the pavement, tryin’ to breathe.”
“You can’t be that good,” Bradley said.
“Try me,” I said, hoping he didn’t call my bluff.
“Get the fuck outta my way.” I pushed one of the officers out of the way and walked around the Suburban. Heather lay there, breathing irregularly.
“You OK?” I tapped her shoulder with my boot.
“What do you think you are, some kind of samurai, loyal to that arrogant bitch ‘till the end?” Bradley said. “Does she have you mesmerized, even now?”
“You got the book,” I said. “Now what?”
“I figure out how to destroy her without leaving a trace for Dominique.” Bradley flipped through the book. “I could use you. Can you imagine the power that is within my grasp? Work for me and I’ll reward you beyond your wildest dreams.”
“There’s still time,” I said. “Give me back the book and run. I’ll tell Heather you got away while she was out.”
Bradley laughed and kept laughing, ‘till it sounded painful. He swept through the pages so fast that the rustling paper became a loud buzz like an industrial saw. Then another sound drowned everything out. It made me think of a helicopter. I looked up to see a winged shape descend from the moonlit sky. Bradley drew his Katana.
The shape landed behind Bradley with an earth-shaking thud. I was able to get a better look at the bizarre sight. What I saw was a giant man with feathered wings like a raven’s, easily the most insane thing I’d seen in a few days. It made me think about Monroe, something else that had once been human. The giant’s shimmering black wings flapped and folded on his back. His face was sort of human, with long blond hair and a trim beard. He wore a brown monk’s robe and sandals. I doubted he could find shoes that fit his monster feet. Misty clung to his broad chest like a child. He stroked her cheek, then lowered her to the ground with one arm.
Bradley dropped his sword and thumbed through the book, desperate to find anything that dealt with seven foot tall, winged mutants. Misty ducked past the officers, who were busy gawking at the creature, and knelt down next to Heather.
“Where the hell did you find him?” I said.
Misty ignored me and shot a miserable look at the creature.
“Do not worry little one. When this thief dies his spell will fade.” The creature’s voice boomed through the night.
Bradley looked up from the book and said. “Shoot that thing.”
The creature drew a faceted battle mace from his belt and waded into group. I grabbed Misty by her concert t-shirt and pulled her under the Suburban. We reached out, took the bewitched Heather’s legs and pulled her under with us. Gunfire echoed through the night. Shell casings and crushed men fell to the pavement around us. I covered my head, hoping a lucky round wouldn’t find the gas tank.
“His name is Uli,” Misty said, while we huddled under the Suburban.
“He’s one of Marcello’s guys, isn’t he?” I said.
“Yeah. When we stopped, I made myself invisible and snuck out of the car. I’m not sure how I even did that. I tried to figure out what to do. I checked my phone, I’m not sure why, but there was a weird, really long number in my history. I tapped it and the phone glowed red like before. Marcello answered.” Misty paused while a screaming human was silenced by a series of sickening wet thuds. “I told him what happened, then things went weird. I was in a room full of books. I saw Marcello. He sent Uli to help. I don’t understand any of it. Marcello told me things, but I can’t remember them. It’s all fuzzy. I know I was there for at least thirty minutes. Then I was back here, up in the air, flying with Uli.”
Uli’s sandaled feet appeared under the Suburban. His too-long fingers curled under the frame and he lifted the Suburban up like a huge lid, without so much as a grunt. Shocks and springs groaned and showered us with rust.
“The enemy is vanquished,” he said. “Come out and claim your prize.”
The book was surrounded by fallen officers. It sat on a little island of clean blacktop with blood splattered all around. Not one drop marked the ancient leather cover.
“Uh, Uli, why don’t you just fly the book back to Marcello’s?” I said.
> His eyes narrowed. “I may not touch it.”
“Aw, you’re shitting me,” I said.
Misty drug Heather out and shook her. “She’s not waking up.”
“The thieving vampire still lives.” Uli Let the Suburban drop and pointed at a telephone pole. Bradley hung there, by his own intestines. “I will end him shortly. Now, hunter, claim the book.”
“I’ll get it,” Misty jumped up.
Uli stepped in front of her. “No vampire may touch the book.”
Misty held up her hands. She reached out to touch one of Uli’s wings. His feathers reflected moonlight like some kind of exotic alloy. They were way too small to lift Uli. Something truly unnatural kept him airborne.
“Misty, that dick threw my pack over there. Can you go grab it for me?” I pointed at the grassy ditch.
Uli flapped his wings and lifted off. Misty ran up to me with the backpack.
“I don’t see why he won’t let me touch it,” she said. “I mean…”
I picked the book up with two fingers and slid it into my pack. Uli swooped over us and dropped Bradley’s body on the pavement next to the Explorer.
“Fuck,” Misty said. “He’s still moving.”
Uli touched down next to the body. He reached into his robe and produced a cylindrical hand grenade. It looked comically small in his hands as he used his little finger to pull the ring. He bent down and pushed to grenade into Bradley’s open chest cavity. The grenade went off behind him as he walked back to us. White smoke and sparks billowed into the air.
“Phosphorus grenade,” Uli said. “I wish we’d had them in St. Louis. They are quite effective on vampires.” He pointed at me. “You should acquire some.”
Heather sat up. “What the fuck?” She leapt to her feet and spun around. “Whoa, what the fuck is that thing?”
“That’s Uli,” Misty said. “He works for Marcello.”
Uli ignored us and loaded the dead officers into the Explorer, like they were so much firewood.
“If he,” Heather rubbed her temples, “works for Marcello. Then let’s give him the book.”
