Stake

by Kevin J. Anderson

  Of the names she remembered, Frederik Lugash seemed an easy target, a man living alone in a poor part of the city. With Helsing’s accelerating cycle of violence, Lugash might be in danger before Saturday night. It took only a few minutes on the internet through her research resources to get an address for him.

  Lexi had to go see with her own eyes.

  It was nearly sunset by the time she reached the old residential district in the south part of town. Lugash lived alone in a one-story rancher. His Volkswagen Rabbit (complete with Checkers placard) was parked in the drive, which instantly confirmed she had found the correct house. Several of his neighbors had left garbage cans at the curb. One yard had a swing set that looked as if it hadn’t been used in more than a decade. Several rolled newspapers were strewn across the driveway, one tucked under a car tire.

  Theoretically, Lugash had to be at work soon, but the house was dark, the window shades drawn. His whole neighborhood was strangely quiet and subdued.

  More than a block away she noticed an unmarked car parked at the curb with two men inside. At first she wondered if some drug deal was about to happen, until she remembered that Detective Carrow had assigned protective details to watch over the more likely victims. She drew a deep breath and let out a relieved sigh. Lugash was safe from the vampire killer … so long as he wasn’t really a vampire himself.

  Worried that the plainclothes policemen would be suspicious of her lurking around, Lexi pulled into the driveway of an obviously empty house from which she could watch the pizza delivery man’s home. She shut off the engine, turned off the lights, and sat in the silent driveway, watching the house, the Volkswagen, the darkened windows. She sensed some eerie, dark presence lurking in Lugash’s house. Was a vampire sleeping there? She quashed that train of thought before her own imagination could run away with her.

  As twilight settled over the neighborhood, she began to relax. Helsing would never strike at this hour, when a real vampire would become stronger, more dangerous.

  A light came on in Lugash’s house, shining in the front room, and another light shone in the kitchen. She could see a shadowy figure moving inside. The man – the vampire? – was up and getting ready for work. Or to go on the prowl?

  Lexi had seen all she needed to. She started her car, backed out of the driveway, and headed home.

  FORTY-FIVE

  After washing off most of the dried blood in a frigid forest stream, then changing into the clean clothes Mama had given him, Helsing was ready to go back to the city to continue his work. The Bastion had abandoned him, abandoned their obligations to the human race. They were already gone, moved deeper into the woods. Hiding.

  He was sure he could find them again, since he knew their ways so well, but he had no reason to. They were no longer useful. Lucius would keep monitoring the news and the police scanner with his own equipment, but he would never help. Simon Helsing was on this mission alone.

  He intended to eradicate the king vampire, and maybe that would be enough. Ever since he began hunting lampir back in California, he had killed a dozen of them, and he took heart in knowing that he had saved countless human lives. No one would reward him for it, though. No one even knew what he was doing, except for Alexis Tarada.

  Killing the king vampire might well cost him his life, unless he managed to escape through a combination of luck, audacity, and desperation. If he was going to sacrifice himself to exterminate Hugo Zelm on Saturday, he wanted to kill at least one more enemy before then. It might be his last opportunity.

  Maybe Alexis would take up the cause once he was gone. Helsing had shared all the details with her. Surely she must be convinced.

  Knowing that his car was still being hunted by the police, he found an empty vacation cabin on private property. A battered old pickup was parked by a woodpile, but it had current tags on the license plates. That was the important detail. Helsing swapped plates, which would give him sufficient cover. He had to remain unobtrusive for two more days.

  If he did manage to escape after killing Hugo Zelm, he would leave Colorado Springs permanently. He could begin his crusade again in a new location. Vampires were everywhere.

  To complete his work, Helsing needed resources, so he took all the emergency funds Lucius had stashed around the city. The Rambler Star Motel was blown, but every member of the Bastion knew where to find other caches. In two hours, he retrieved $650 in rolled bills, as well as two debit cards each loaded with five hundred dollars. Take only what you need.

  Helsing needed it more than anyone else. So he took it all.

  His next intended target was MaryJane Stricklin, and he knew where she lived. But when he observed the ambulance driver from a distance the next day, he was surprised to see her emerge from her house in broad daylight, dressed in her EMT uniform, showing no ill effects from the bright sunshine, not even wearing sunglasses.

  He reeled. He had missed something! Even after his careful research and surveillance, he had been wrong. He had been about to make a terrible mistake.

  Killing Gardon was already an impulsive accident. Though the motel manager had seen something he shouldn’t have, he’d been fully human. If Helsing had pounded a stake through Stricklin’s heart, he would have killed another innocent person.

  That was not his mission! He was out to save human lives, not take them. The very idea that he had been misled – no, that he had misled himself – nauseated him. It blurred his crystal-clear resolve, and he couldn’t have that. Vampires were the ones who clouded the facts, distorted the truth, warped the simplest answers into arcane enigmas. Killing Stricklin would have been a heinous crime on his own part.

  About Frederik Lugash, though, he had no doubts.

  He pulled up just before 11 a.m. the next day. The autumn air had a cool, invigorating bite. He saw the pizza delivery man’s car in the driveway, the drapes closed, the rest of the neighborhood quiet. Most of the homes looked empty, their inhabitants at work in normal human jobs.

  Lugash was holed up, sleeping.

  Helsing parked his Honda two houses down and grabbed his satchel from the front seat. He glanced around, saw no movement, no kids playing, no adults strolling about. Several silent cars were parked down the street and in the nearby cul-de-sac. The neighborhood seemed to be holding its breath, as if Lugash had his neighbors under a spell.

  Helsing strolled up the driveway, casually going about his business. He paused to look into the Volkswagen. Cigarette butts crammed the ashtray, and an air freshener dangled from the rearview mirror. Crumpled fast-food wrappers littered the floor. Lugash didn’t even pretend to eat the pizza he delivered.

  Helsing glanced at the front door, but slipped around the side so that he could work without being seen. He set his satchel on the lid of a metal trashcan, unzipped it, and took out the wooden mallet. He would break in from the side or the back.

  He moved with furtive grace to the rear of the house, alert for any defenses the vampire might have put in place. A rickety gate in the redwood fence opened with a simple latch. At least there was no dog. He slipped into the yard, leaving the gate open as he scanned the house in search of the best way in. Two light wells in the ground were too small to let him work his way through the basement windows, and a narrow side window must have been for a bathroom.

  A wide, sliding patio door covered by long curtains offered the best way inside. He jiggled the handle, hoping the latch would be loose, but no luck. The latch mechanism was held on with simple screws, though, and he could remove it in just a few minutes.

  ‘Better stop right there, sir,’ said a hard, confident voice. He spun to see a man stalking toward him, holding up a badge. ‘Colorado Springs Police Department.’

  Helsing froze. Had one of the neighbors called to report a prowler? How had the police arrived so quickly?

  ‘You don’t belong here, sir. Please drop the mallet and the bag.’ The cop slowly drew his holstered revolver, but he seemed to think his badge was all the weapon he needed.
<
br />   Still holding the satchel, Helsing stepped away from the patio door, bracing himself to fight. The plainclothes cop strode closer, a thin man with a ruddy face, blue eyes, and sandy blond hair.

  ‘I said drop the bag, sir. And the mallet.’

  From the far side of the house, a second plainclothes cop hurried into view, already pulling his weapon as he closed in. ‘I got him, David.’

  Helsing launched himself toward the first cop. He swung up his satchel which made him look large and dangerous. The cop aimed his gun toward the target.

  Using the momentum of his run, Helsing swung the mallet with all his strength, not hesitating, thinking only of escape. The plainclothes cop fired, missed, and Helsing bashed the side of his head with the mallet. He felt a satisfying crack and a wet splash of blood.

  The cop went down like a sandbag dropped from a balcony. The second cop fired a shot at Helsing as he ran, but Helsing was already bolting around the corner of the house and dashing through the still-open redwood gate. The other cop was right behind him, yelling threats. Helsing expected to be shot in the back at any moment.

  But the second cop stopped by his fallen partner, and Helsing heard him shouting into his radio. ‘Officer down! Send an ambulance. I need backup!’ He rattled off the address.

  Helsing bounded to his parked car, breathing hard as he clawed his keys out of his pocket. He leaped behind the wheel and started the engine. An instant later, the second cop charged through the gate, handgun drawn and yelling. He fired, and the bullet struck the side of the car. Helsing roared off, squealing his tires and racing down the winding residential streets.

  The CSPD would respond within minutes, but he would be long gone. He didn’t know if he had killed the police officer, but he had felt the skull cave in. If the cop died, Helsing would have murdered another unexpected victim, collateral damage, another innocent dead.

  He hadn’t even managed to kill the real lampir.

  Helsing gritted his teeth as he drove away, but he forced himself to slow down as he fed into Circle Drive, merging with the traffic that ran past an endless succession of strip malls and shopping centers. He would have to abandon the vehicle and find another one. The Bastion had others.

  While the avalanche of questions continued through his brain, his dismay only increased as he forced himself to accept the obvious answers. The police were protecting Frederik Lugash! That must mean vampires had infiltrated the police department.

  But how had the CSPD known Lugash was even one of his targets? Why would anyone guess that Helsing had identified him as a vampire? The only other person who had seen the pizza delivery man’s name was Alexis Tarada. He’d given her his folder, his list, his evidence.

  But she was his ally.

  Yet, how could the police have known about Lugash, unless Alexis had betrayed him? Why would she work to protect a vampire? Unless she had secretly been … turned.

  He felt sick as he thought of yet another insidious example of how the lampir worked their way into society, herding the sheep so they could slaughter them one at a time.

  The king vampire was more powerful than he had thought, and Helsing didn’t have any time to lose.

  FORTY-SIX

  Lexi raised her arms and twirled slowly. ‘How do I look?’ The glowing delight on Blair’s face already told her how much he approved.

  ‘A vision of loveliness. Straight out of a fairy tale.’

  Considering how formal the dress looked with its ivory silk trimmings, damask corset, perfect pleats on the skirt, and the scalloped wonder of lace at her neck, it felt wonderful. Not at all like the awkward dresses she had worn to church.

  She ran her hands down her hips to her thighs. ‘I never thought I liked formal stuff.’

  ‘You’re making my pulse race.’ Blair walked around her, slowly inspecting. ‘Did I do good?’

  ‘You picked the perfect dress. I’ll hate to return it after the gala.’

  Blair ran a hand through his hair. ‘I would not object if you wore it again. In fact, we should experiment with other fine garments. You’re a beautiful woman, Lex, made for beautiful things. Not that you don’t look perfectly fine in your everyday clothes, but this …’ He stroked her shoulder as if touching a sacred object. ‘This is outstanding. And now for the last detail.’ He picked up the red velvet choker. ‘Let me put this in place around that elegant neck of yours.’ The crimson strip, so different from her usual necklace, embraced her throat. ‘The precisely perfect counterpoint.’

  She pulled out the white skirt. ‘And you don’t think this looks like a wedding dress?’

  ‘You’re perfect. Stop asking questions.’ He smoothed the flared collar of his tuxedo jacket. ‘You haven’t said a thing about how I look.’ He spread his arms and turned in a slow circle so she could get the full effect of his white shirt, cummerbund, cufflinks, glowing patent-leather shoes.

  ‘You always look handsome and stylish, but tonight you are nothing short of dreamy.’ She straightened his bowtie and gave him a wink. ‘You do dress up well, Blair September.’

  ‘We make such a stunning couple, no one will even notice Detective Carrow lurking behind us.’ Blair positively glowed with satisfaction.

  She studied his face and an edge crept into her voice. ‘I need to touch up your make-up a little. You’re looking pale, but the bruising is mostly gone. Don’t let anyone abuse you again, and I’ll be happy.’

  He self-consciously touched his cheek. ‘No, I won’t.’

  Carrow arrived on time in a charcoal gray suit, white shirt, and maroon tie. He looked awkward when Lexi opened the door. ‘Feel like I’m going to a high-school formal.’

  ‘Don’t think of me as your date. You and I are more like, um … lab partners.’ She allowed him through the door. ‘Anyway, if you stop Helsing from killing Mr Zelm, this extra effort will all be worthwhile.’

  Blair slipped his arm through hers. ‘Lex is my date tonight, but you can be our driver.’ He frowned at the detective with palpable disappointment. ‘If you had been her date, you’d have told her how beautiful she looks.’ His gaze rolled up and down Carrow’s commonplace gray suit. ‘You do know this is a formal gala? Everyone will be dressed to the nines. That’s the best you could do?’

  Carrow seemed baffled by the disdain. ‘This is my good suit.’

  Blair let out a long-suffering sigh. ‘That’s why rental places were invented.’

  Ignoring him, Carrow glanced at his watch. ‘We need to get going. Do you think there’ll be food, or should we get something to eat on the way?’

  Blair said, ‘There’ll be crudités and petit fours.’

  ‘Good,’ Carrow said, then repeated, ‘Will there be anything to eat?’

  ‘Snacks,’ Lexi translated. ‘But don’t expect to pig out.’

  As they drove toward the ostentatious Broadmoor district, Lexi sat in the front seat, while Blair commented from the back. When she pressed the detective about the two recent murders, he refused to tell her anything further, and she didn’t reveal the details she had already learned.

  ‘Your friend Helsing tried to kill someone else today,’ Carrow blurted out as he drove along in the darkness.

  ‘He’s not her friend,’ Blair objected from the back seat.

  Lexi turned to the detective, but he stared straight ahead as he drove. ‘Another attack? Who? When?’

  ‘This morning. He wanted to kill a pizza delivery man.’

  ‘The one from the list?’ She didn’t tell him that she had gone to the man’s house just the night before. ‘Frederik Lugash?’

  ‘The same. Helsing intended to break in and kill the guy during broad daylight, but I had a protective detail watching the house.’ Carrow gripped the steering wheel hard as he drove through the upscale residential area. ‘He bashed one of our officers, Lieutenant David Amber, in the head. Cracked skull, brain hemorrhage, massive damage.’ His voice wavered. ‘Amber’s in a coma, and we don’t know if he’ll pull through.’ He glowered at
her. ‘One of our own! If only you …’ His words trailed off.

  Although horrified, she felt defensive. ‘If only I’d what? You had the information, Detective. You took it from me. I haven’t had any contact with Helsing since the one and only time we met at the coffee shop. He’s dropped off the HideTruth discussion boards. I’m doing nothing to feed his delusions, nothing to help him. I’m sorry to hear about Officer Amber, but you’re just looking for someone to blame.’

  Blair reached forward from the back seat to give her shoulder a reassuring squeeze.

  ‘Maybe I am,’ Carrow grumbled. ‘And you’re right. I should blame Helsing instead. We’ll get him tonight.’

  The three rode in silence for the next fifteen minutes until they arrived at Zelm’s mansion. To Lexi, it looked exactly like the kind of home a wealthy, centuries-old king vampire would have built for himself: wrought-iron gate, turrets, well-lit windows, and a grand entrance. A brick fence topped with cast-iron spear points encompassed the grounds. Cars waited in line as valets took each vehicle and drove it away: Mercedes Benzes, Porsches, Jaguars, even a Bentley.

  When Carrow pulled up in his Ford sedan, the dark-haired young valet leaned toward the driver’s window, not sure what to do. Carrow climbed out, left the car running. ‘Not a scratch, you hear? I expect my car in the same condition when I pick it up.’ He tipped the man a dollar.

  Lexi climbed out of her side, careful with her dress. She didn’t want Carrow to come around and open the door for her. Blair emerged from the back seat and hurried to offer his arm. As she stepped away from the car, she felt like a blooming flower.

  Lexi and Blair walked together up the porch stairs to the front entryway, while Carrow kept a safe distance. Private security men in dark suits stood like gargoyles at the corners of the house, at the entryway, inside the mansion. Several CSPD police officers were also in the area as backup, outside the property.