Emily Shadowhunter - Book 1: VAMPIRE KILLER

by Craig Zerf

  ***

  Three days later Em and her Yardies hit a vampire lounge in a basement in Islington.

  And this time it was a very different operation. They came in through the back entrance. No explosions. Samfy had picked the lock after disabling the single security camera with a slingshot.

  The back room was a small store full of liquor and that led to a kitchen. The kitchen, however, was empty. Unused.

  The Yardies slipped through, Tag on point with Emily right behind him. Then they burst into the club, weapons hot.

  It was a single large room. Dim lights as per usual. Curved sofas and low tables were scattered randomly about the room and small groups of vamps were feeding, three or four to each human. Unlike the other times that Em had seen them take suck, these vamps were actually being quite tender. Nibbling and licking at their victim’s blood as opposed to tearing and rending their flesh.

  For some reason Em found it worse than the usual bloody mayhem that the blood suckers called feeding. It was more intimate. Sexual.

  The vamps were taken by complete surprise. Silenced weapons spat silver death. Em and Bastian whirled like steel bladed dervishes, cutting through the blood suckers and their bitten-victims.

  Not one being survived. All vamps were dispatched. And every victim, as they had all been infected.

  Emily’s blade ran red with the blood of both monster and human alike.

  They left via the same way that they had entered. Stealthy. Silent. But for the almost imperceptible sound of Emily’s quiet weeping.

  As they had after the last hit, the group split up. The Yardies heading back to their hangout and Em, Bastian and Tag heading for the apartment.

  The three friends arrived back on foot. Tag entered first, flicking on the main lights when he did. As the lights went on someone, or something, grabbed the six foot six, three hundred pound Yardie and threw him across the room like he was a puppet. He hammered into the kitchen table and rolled off, breaking two chairs as he smashed into them on his way down.

  He made to stand up but another man stood above him, a drawn rapier held at his throat. ‘I think not, mon ami,’ he said. ‘Unless you want me to spill your lifeblood out onto the floor.’

  Sylvian smiled and slid his sword back into his scabbard.

  Bastian readied himself to fight but before he could attack, Emily shouted out.

  ‘Stop. They’re friends.’ She turned to face William. ‘What the hell do you think that you’re doing, throwing Tag around like that?’

  William didn’t back down as he usually did. ‘How was I to know that he was on your side? How was I to know that these two hadn’t forced you to bring them back here? In fact, Emily, how was I supposed to know anything as you haven’t bloody phoned me for weeks now? Sylvian and I thought that you were in trouble. And then I hear, via the grapevine, that you’ve launched an all out war on the Nosferatu. Without even telling me.’

  ‘You’re not my keeper,’ yelled Emily. ‘And someone has to fight the fight. Because I don’t see you doing it.’

  ‘No,’ agreed William. ‘But it would have been common courtesy to keep me in the loop. I have managed to stay under the wire for a few hundred years and now, thanks to you, every Familiar and informer is watching me trying to figure out where I fit into this whole scenario. And you know what? It’s only a matter of time until someone works out what I am. And let me tell you something for nothing, miss, self-righteous, fight-the-good-fight, bloody Hawk. The only thing that vampires hate more than Shadowhunters, are werewolves.’

  ‘You’re not a werewolf,’ argued Emily.

  ‘That’s bloody semantics, Emily. And you know it.’ William clenched his fists in front of himself as he tried to control his anger.

  Tagareg, thinking that William was about to strike Emily, leapt up and ran towards her. But before the big Jamaican got moving,

  Sylvian casually back-handed him across his chest, not even bothering to close his fist.

  Once again the massive Yardie flew across the room, smashed into the wall and crumpled to an unconscious heap on the floor.

  Bastian threw up his hands. ‘Alright, everyone just calm down. Sir William, you remember me?’

  William nodded. ‘Chief inspector, I think it was.’

  Bastian shrugged. ‘Obviously not. I’m a Shadowhunter. One of the last few left in the United Kingdom at the moment. Anyway, I think that we should all take a breath, brew up some tea and have a civilized chat. Okay?’

  Both Sylvian and William nodded.

  In the corner of the room, Tag shook his head and mumbled. ‘Tea? I can do that. Might as well, it seems that I ain’t no bodyguard any more. Even the little Frenchman beat the crap out of me with a single bitch-slap.’

  Emily went over and helped the big man to his feet. ‘Rubbish, she said. ‘It was a sucker punch and you weren’t expecting it. I’ll make the tea. You relax, get your strength back, you’re still my bodyguard and I need you sharp.’

  Tag grinned. ‘Yeah, cool. That’s right.’ He pointed at Sylvian. ‘Next time, brother, I be waiting for you. Then we gonna set to. No more sucker- punching Tag.’

  Sylvian nodded. ‘Next time, mister Yardie man.’

  Tag, Bastian and William sat at the kitchen table and Emily put on the kettle.

  But before Emily could brew up the tea, Tag did a spectacular double take as the conversation caught up with him. ‘Whoa,’ he exclaimed. ‘Time out.’ He jumped to his feet. ‘Just before the little French dude smacked me across the room, did I hear you say that you was a werewolf?’ He accused William.

  William nodded. ‘Technically I’m a shapeshifter, but, yes.’

  ‘Oh no,’ continued Tag. ‘Then that would make this dude the vampire that Em was talking about.’

  ‘Bloodborn,’ said Sylvian with a sigh. ‘Not vampire.’

  ‘Crap,’ yelled Tag. ‘I don’t hang with no monsters.’

  ‘Stop it, Tag,’ commanded Emily. ‘That’s enough. They’re friends of mine and you will be polite to them. They are not werewolves and vampires. In fact the two of them have probably killed more monsters, as you put it, than every Yardie that ever existed.’

  Tag raised an eyebrow. ‘That true?’ He asked Sylvian.

  The bloodborn nodded. ‘Thousands. But then I have been hunting down blood suckers for many hundreds of years now, so I do have a slight advantage over you.’

  Tag thought for a few seconds and then nodded. ‘I suppose if you be killing monsters then you can’t be one yourself.’

  Both Sylvian and William nodded.

  ‘Also, being...umm...supernatural or whatever,’ continued Tag. ‘That would make you mega-strong.’

  Again they nodded.

  ‘Cool,’ finished Tag. ‘That means that, technically, I’m still a bad ass. It’s just that I’m a human bad-ass. Can’t really compete with the X-men or whatever.’

  Emily put down the mugs of tea on the table and then shoveled another four spoons of sugar into Tag’s. ‘That’s right, Tag,’ she confirmed. ‘You’re still the baddest. Human, that is.’

  Tag smiled, sipped his tea, paused and then added another three spoons of sugar, his fragile ego repaired.

  ‘Look, Emily,’ said William. ‘I’m concerned. You’ve got to stop this gung-ho plan of attack. It’s juvenile. Clumsy.’

  ‘I know what I’m doing,’ argued Em.

  William shook his head. ‘No,’ he disagreed. ‘You don’t. You only think that you know what you’re doing. Sylvian and I have been fighting these abominations for many generations now. You simply cannot underestimate them. They don’t think in the same terms that we do. Well, that you do. Short term doesn’t exist to them. They are patient beyond belief. They think in years as opposed to days. Centuries. Eons. I beg you, pull back for a while. Stop, think.’

  Em shook her head. ‘They killed my friends. They are a threat to human existence. Perhaps your age has brought with it an unnecessary caution,’ she suggested. ‘Maybe you
r immortality has blinded you to the worth of human life. The preciousness of every hour that a normal mortal has. If I stop and think, people die. Every moment of thoughtful contemplation will result in more human deaths. No, William,’ she insisted. ‘Humans are dying so I have to react in a human time frame. Trust me, we are bad-ass. We hit hard and fast, the vamps don’t stand a chance.’

  William reached across and took Emily’s hand. ‘Sylvian and I will come with you,’ he said. ‘Extra protection.’

  Em shook her head. ‘I’m sorry,’ she said. ‘The Yardies won’t accept you. Don Dada will go mental. It’s the whole, monster thing. Anyway, I’ve got Bastian and Tag. I’ll be fine. Trust me.’

  Sylvian stood up. ‘Well, that’s it,’ he said. ‘Our work is done. Some lessons have to be learned on a personal basis. Because, let’s face it, it is hard, if not impossible to know more than an eighteen year old girl.’

  Without another word the Frenchman strode from the room and out of the front door. William stood and followed him.

  Just before he got out of the front door Emily caught up with him, grabbed his face and kissed him soundly. ‘Thank you for caring,’ she breathed. ‘But this is something that I have to do. It’s what I am. A Shadowhunter.’

  William kissed her back, pressing his lean body up against her. She could feel his heartbeat thumping in his chest. Feel his need for her. His want. His concern. And it took all of her strength to keep herself from grabbing him by the arm and dragging him through to her bedroom to finally have some serious alone-time together.

  It was William who pulled away first. He raised an eyebrow and then flashed her a grin. ‘Be safe.’

  Then he left.

  Behind her Emily heard Tag say to Bastian. ‘That’s enough tea for the girly, I think that what she needs now is a bucket of cold water instead.’

  And Emily couldn’t have put it better herself.

  Chapter 30