by S T Branton
The sword landed between the two of us as the switchblade clattered to a stop in front of me. I grabbed it and stood. The vampire scrambled to his feet as well, and I dove to kick his sword away as his hands reached the area. I spun and swept his good leg, and he crashed to the floor again.
“This can’t be happening.” He backed up in a seated position as I stood.
“Oh, but it is, you greasy bloodsucker.” I walked toward him while waving the blade so it caught the light and gleamed. “I’ll cut your head off and send it to the people who sent you after me in a nice pretty box—” I began.
The vampire assassin suddenly threw his hand out, and salt filled my vision. It stung my eyes, and I dropped to one knee as I desperately tried to wipe it away. Defeated and pissed, he hissed at me and stumbled to his feet. He half-ran and half-hobbled away on his good leg and disappeared into the darkness. I could barely make out his outline through one teary eye as he left. After a moment, I heard the loud banging sound of a heavy door shutting and breathed a sigh of relief.
“Who the hell are you?” gurgled the man behind me.
My vision cleared more as I turned, allowing me to see the bleeding around the fairy’s neck had slowed considerably and he now leaned against the shelving unit, half-sitting up and half laying in a pool of darkening red.
His eyes were wide and his face was pale from blood loss, but he looked as scared of me as he should have been of the assassin. My eyes shifted further down and saw Dog, who was lying on his side. He huffed heavily, and I knew that while he was hurt, he was okay.
“Sara Slick. Resident whoop-ass. Who the hell was that?” I gave a somewhat flailing gesture in the direction the vampire retreated.
“I haven’t the slightest clue! I showed up because I got a call, and suddenly I had barbed wire around my neck and was being thrown! Everything hurts and nothing makes sense…” he muttered.
“Ah, well, I can help a little there. That was a vampire assassin, and he apparently laid a trap for me using you as bait so he could kill me and stop me from hunting down a guy who might cause the end of the world. And now that I say that out loud, I realize I probably should have stopped with vampire assassin,” I finished with a resigned exhale.
“Look, I don’t know who you are.” The man scooted back on his ass toward the entrance I came in. “I don’t care who you are, I don’t want to know anything about you. I only want you to leave.”
“I came here for supplies. Archie said,” I began.
“Archie? Archie sent you? Jesus. Look, I don’t care, you can have anything you want, just get the hell away from me.” The man waved me away almost frantically.
“I don’t know how much anything costs.” I looked around the warehouse shelves as if I were looking for a price tag. Farstuff dealers weren’t known for great advertising or static prices.
“Don’t worry about it. Get it and go,” he insisted.
Part of me was fairly sure he would end up tallying what I took and bill Archie, but I did save his life, so he owed me some kind of discount, I would think. I grabbed the items on Archie’s list and a couple of others that looked interesting and walked past him again.
I went to check on Dog, who was obviously in pain, and I realized I would have to carry him back. He whimpered when I touched him, and I figured he might have broken bones on top of the lacerations. Grabbing what I needed and could carry along with Dog, I knelt and picked him up.
As gently as I could, I slung him over one shoulder and headed for the door. The dealer was clearing out the desk and packing things up, apparently content to move somewhere else for the rest of his career. Silently, I hoped it would be a beach somewhere, and the next time Archie needed something, I could take a detour for some swimming too. Probably not, though.
I sighed, headed for the door, and walked out into the dying daylight outside.
Chapter Thirteen
Dog wasn’t a delicate creature. He was big, awkwardly shaped, and covered in fur that didn’t smell like he had recently indulged in an oatmeal bath or a body spritz. His injuries made it harder for me to carry him, and by the time I hauled him to Archie's RV, my arms were about done.
"I could use a little help here," I called.
Ally and Archie rushed to the door and looked out at me.
"Shit," Archie muttered.
"It's so nice to see you, too, honey," I snarked. "I'm back from my shopping trip."
They jumped out and helped me balance Dog's mass and manipulated him into the RV. We carefully lowered Dog to the floor, and I made sure his head was positioned comfortably on the pillow.
"He's good," Archie reassured us.
"Good.” I whipped my head over to him. "What kind of a last round of 'Supermarket Sweep,' grind a pound of coffee, you're only allowed five turkeys, leave the fucking diapers alone bullshit was that?"
"What?" he asked.
"I thought I was going to do a little shopping. Weird, creepy-ass shopping, but shopping nonetheless. I had my list. I showed up at the scary building that seems to be the status quo for these people, all ready to meet up with your Farstuff dealer and get what we need. But did I find a nice man ready to sell me some dragons' teeth and cyclops eyelashes? No. I find a fairy getting hanged from the shelving with barbed wire by a freaking vampire. That was not delightful. Dog showed up and saved my ass but as you can see, he didn't fare too well." I let out a breath.
Ally and I gathered first aid supplies and started going over Dog's body, identifying each of his injuries so we could clean them and patch them up.
"A vampire?" Archie asked.
"Yeah. And not one of those Hot Topic Halloween Clearance sale dudes like in the basement that time. Nope. A Varkolak. This was a nasty creature who had way too much fun stringing the guy up. I’m tired of innocent people being used as bait to lure me out,” I pointed out.
"Well," Archie shrugged slightly and rocked his head back and forth. "That's kind of up for interpretation. Remember, he's a Farstuff dealer. His hands aren't totally clean. Take heart in knowing he wasn't a completely innocent person."
"He's not dead," I informed him.
"Oh. Well, that's a bonus. Still. Not totally innocent." He gestured with one hand like he was drawing a line at that evaluation.
"Has he ever specifically done something against me?"
"Not that I know of." Archie adjusted one of the bandages I put into place like he had the compulsion to do something.
"Did he feed information about me to Hobbes?"
"I doubt it." He shook his head.
"Did he have a former life as an Agent of the Guild and was one of the masked guys who arrested me ten years ago?" I smoothed another bandage in place and paused to look at Archie.
"That seems extraordinarily unlikely," he admitted.
"Right. We'll stick with innocent," I concluded.
Archie nodded, then something seemed to dawn on him. “A Varkolak? Are you sure? I thought they were all dead.”
“What’s a Varkolak?” Ally asked from behind him as she examined Dog’s injuries, suddenly paying attention to our conversation again.
“An ancient vampire, but more than that,” Archie explained. “They’re born, not made. They’re extremely rare now—I thought they were all dead—but there are stories of them nearly ruling The Far eons ago. They can turn humans into little worker-vampires, which is what Slick has run into before. Varkolaks are exceptionally powerful, very strong and intelligent. No offense, but I’m a little surprised you made it back.”
“Thanks for the vote of confidence in my skills, Archie.”
His eyes swept over the bag still hanging from my shoulder. "Let me see what you got."
I took the bag off my shoulder and handed it to him. Dog writhed in pain as we pressed a piece of gauze to a cut in his side to stop the bleeding. I looked down at him and cringed. I hated to see him going through this. The only reason he faced any of that was because he tried to help me. Beside me, Archie unpacked
the bag and spread everything I picked out across one of his large tables. I heard him making sounds as he went through everything. Eventually, I turned to him.
"Something you want to share with the class?"
He looked up from one of the jars I brought and shook his head. "None of this is good quality."
I let out an exasperated sound. "Seriously? I went through all that, and you're criticizing the quality of what I brought back to you?"
"It's not you. I mean, you’re the one who brought the stuff back, but you got what you could. The dealer isn't supplying good materials. I'll have to remember that the next time my stash runs low. It's…" He picked up a few of the items and looked at them in disgust.
"It's what?"
The RV’s floor squeaked, and I looked up to see Pip walking up from the back while nibbling her way through a large roll in one hand and gripping what looked like a slice of pizza in the other. Her eyes fell on Dog and widened.
"What is that?" she asked.
"This is Dog," Ally told her. "He had a rough day."
"It's what, Archie?" I prodded him to continue.
"We barely have a plan as it is, and only having access to low-quality supplies won’t help. And now we have a freaking vampire assassin on our tail. Things don't look great for us right now." He put everything back in the bag and set it down.
"I don't understand. Slick told me vampires are all punks, and she whupped this one’s ass already. What are you so worried about?" Ally sounded confused.
"I didn't say they were punks," I argued.
"You said they were mall goth wannabes,” she insisted.
"I might have said that,” I agreed.
"Vampires are one of those creatures people gravely misunderstand. Real vampires, the Varkolaks, are extremely rare. Most of them are ancient. You won’t find any of them sparkling or making women go weak in the knees with their dashing good looks. These creatures are ugly. They have large jaws, chilling eyes, and long, thin arms and legs." Archie waved his arms around like he should be standing at the edge of a used car lot.
"Oh, so we're dealing with Slenderman," Ally said.
"Who's Slenderman?" I asked.
She shook her head and brushed me away. "I'll tell you later."
"These things are no legend, and you'll never mistake them for something that might be kind and nurturing. Real vampires are fast, strong, and bloodthirsty. They don't have any of the classic vampire weaknesses like people think." Archie looked completely serious about what he was saying.
"So, the garlic necklaces I planned won’t do any good?" I asked.
Pip had made her way over to the cot and knelt beside it. Now she lightly stroked Dog's fur, and although I would have thought that would aggravate him, it seemed to calm him down.
"Garlic doesn't do anything to them. There's no point in looking specifically for an ash tree to get wood for a stake. They can walk around out in the sunlight with abandon. None of those things will hurt them." Archie shook his head. "But they can die like anything else."
"If they can die, what's the big deal?" I asked.
"They’re vicious when they want to destroy someone or are looking for blood. They can also enchant humans, which brings them under their control and gives them trace amounts of power. That's the weakling vampires most people encounter. They tend to be more dramatic and unpredictable, but they’re nothing compared to their creators. They aren't very powerful, but creating them is considered a breach of the Pax Philosophia, so it doesn't happen very often."
"Lovely," I muttered.
"Not exactly. Real vampires aren't something you want to mess with. We're screwed if one is after us. Getting hunted down isn't something I relish,” Archie commented.
"I can't imagine why.” I glared at him through narrowed eyes. "It's so much fun to have people wanting you dead and going to extreme measures to find you and wipe you out." I looked at Dog, who finally seemed to be calming down after Ally gave him a large dose of medicine from Archie's cabinet. "Look, vampire or no vampire, things haven't changed. The plan is the same. We still need to go. But we can't leave Dog here."
"What?" Archie asked. "You want to bring that thing along?"
"I'm not abandoning him. Especially after what he went through. He's coming with us," I insisted.
"Now we get a dog, too?” Pip said excitedly.
“I mean, it’s not quite like that,” I began.
Dog barked out a somewhat happy sound, and Pip giggled while stroking his fur.
“Fine.” I sighed, then added, “But you’re responsible for taking him on walks.”
Chapter Fourteen
"Pip, your face is sliding off,” I whispered out of the corner of my mouth
She looked at me and did her best to adjust the mask stretched awkwardly over her lizard features. Her enthusiastic changes resulted in cockeyed eyeholes and the mouth positioned somewhere in the vicinity of her chin.
"Better?" she asked.
I looked her up and down, taking in the disguise we hastily put together. A trench coat tied at the waist made a makeshift dress and a massive floppy hat did its best to conceal her head and the awkward mask. She shuffled along in a pair of patent leather flats, the only type of shoes we could find that fit her unusually shaped feet. I turned to Archie.
"Are you positive there's nothing you could do to make the rune work better?" I asked Archie.
“She looks like every other Londoner I’ve ever seen,” he said plainly. I stared at him until he wilted and sighed.
He had put together a quick rune that now hung around Pip's neck. It was designed to make her appear more human, but the effect was somewhat short of convincing. Especially since it did absolutely nothing for her tail. Instead, we had to duct tape her tail to one leg, resulting in a strange gait somewhere between a waddle and a scoot.
"That's the best I could do with such short notice. Stop paying so much attention to her. If she acts completely normal and like she's supposed to be here, people won't pay as much attention to her. They won't want to stare at her or make any comments for fear of being labeled insensitive. Sometimes political correctness really does work out for us," he announced like he was an authority on the subject. With his pointy ears, he might be.
I tightened my hands around the strap of my carry-on bag and looked around the airport nervously.
"Do you think we got here with enough time?" I asked.
"Our flight doesn't leave for another three hours," Ally pointed out.
"And it said for international travel you should arrive at the airport at least three hours before take-off. At least. That means more than three hours. And we only have three hours." I pointed at the clock on the wall to underscore my point.
"Slick, it will be fine. I promise,” she reassured me.
It was my first time on a plane, so the entire process was foreign to me. Fortunately, it seemed Archie chose a flight at a quieter time at the airport because there were only a handful of other people making their way through the terminal with us. Of those, most of them had spent an unmistakable amount of time staring at my group as we passed by.
Some of them focused on the inhuman human that was Pip, while others focused directly on Archie's shoulders. That was where we were keeping Dog for the time being. Drugging him up at the lab ensured he wouldn’t be in pain during the travel, but it also knocked him for a loop, and he was pretty much not good for anything at that point.
Everyone who stared at him looked terrified, which I assumed was not the reaction most emotional support animals received. He would have to work on being more convincing. He was far too big to stuff into a carrier and put under the seat, which meant he was now officially on the job supporting me emotionally.
I definitely needed it. The closer we got to security, the more nervous I became. Flying was one of those life experiences I always expected I'd have after graduating high school. Maybe I'd go on some grand adventure to celebrate or when I got into college, could partic
ipate in an exchange program. I didn't know who would want to exchange me or for what, but it would probably involve a plane ride.
As we all know, that's not how it worked out for me. Now I was staring down the barrel of my first flight, and it would be a doozy. This wasn't a little puddle hop to the next state or even a cross-country jaunt. This was an international journey. We were in it for the long haul.
But speaking of barrels.
"Do you think Splinter is doing all right?" I asked Archie.
He glanced at his shoulder to where the massive dog's head lolled around.
"Still stuffed in the barrel and wrapped up in a bandage," he told me. "He's probably as comfortable as the rest of us will be on this trip."
Since we doubted any of us could pull off having an unidentifiable rodent creature as an additional emotional support animal, we concealed Splinter for the journey. After taking a cue from the massive fluffy rescue dogs who bounded through the snow to save stranded people, we stuffed him into a small barrel and latched it around Dog's neck. If anyone asked, we would tell them it was supplies for his duties as my dog.
We finally got to security, and I was relieved to see there was no one else there. This would go so much smoother than I thought.
Which was the exact thought that should have told me it would be a disaster.
"No,” Archie said a few minutes later while standing in front of a security agent. “Flying Batwing Newt eyeballs isn’t a euphemism for anything."
"You need to go over to the next table and unpack your bag," the unamused man told him.
"Pip, pip, cheerio," Archie sang as he swept his bag off the first counter and carried it over to the second.
"Me?" Pip asked. "Does he need something?"
"Not you," I told her. "Archie has lost touch with all language ability."