The Savage Vampire (The Perpetual Creatures Saga Book 5)

by Gabriel Beyers

  The storm of battle brewed beneath their hot flesh. Their taut muscles ached in anticipation. The air smelled of death. The water tasted of blood. And from somewhere within the cave, almost completely masked by the song of the waterfall, came the sound of someone whistling.

  The vampire behind the waterfall whistled a modern tune that the Furies were familiar with but couldn’t name the artist. It was a rare breach of security for a Hunter, but the whistler no doubt felt the thundering bellow of millions of gallons of water per hour was a safe enough buffer.

  Any farther away and they probably would’ve been all right. But at this distance, with the most powerful ears in existence pointed in their direction, they might as well have been using a megaphone.

  The whistling stopped as the mystery vampire approached the back side of the waterfall. There was a long-drawn-out moment where nothing happened. Megaera focused her hearing through the tumbling water splashing endlessly into the pool and into the mouth of the cave, listening for footsteps splashing in retreat upon the floor of the cave.

  Had the Hunter somehow detected them? Perhaps the Hunter was an augur and had sensed their presence. The Furies didn’t believe so.

  The Watchtower were the most powerful augurs, even when separated. A pyro or a telekinetic would need to be on their guard around the Watchtower, but one of the lesser augurs would be easily outmatched.

  Still, they couldn’t rule out the possibility.

  Thick darkness ruled the jungle. The Milky Way danced in the black canvas above, but the moon had not yet risen to spill its reflected light upon the churning pool. As the night deepened, the songs of the infinite jungle fauna crescendoed.

  Just when the Furies decided they’d have to blindly storm the hidden cave, a tall vampire wearing the leather duster of a Hunter slid out from behind the cascades.

  The duster’s hood hid his hair, but the Hunter’s square jaw and broad nose pressed out like the cowcatcher of a steam engine. He stood on a flat stone shelf that had been all but invisible in the mist rising off of the pool.

  He scanned from left to right, then back to the left again in slow sweeps, his deep-set eyes watching for even the slightest hint of danger.

  Alecto squinted to conceal her sparkling eyes, but couldn’t completely close them. Better to be seen and know it, than to be discovered and attacked while blind.

  But the Hunter didn’t detect her, or any of the three. He watched the jungle with suspicion, as was a Hunter’s nature, but he showed no sign of alarm.

  The Hunter changed his stance, knees bent slightly, shoulders back, sniffing the air like a wolf. His lips were not red, and there were no circles of blood around his irises, but faint blue veins swam beneath his pale, almost translucent, skin.

  This vampire wasn’t starving for blood, but he was craving it.

  The Furies had a decision to make. If they allowed the Hunter to sneak off to feed, they could slip into the cave while he was gone. There may still be another Hunter or two inside, but at least there’d be one less to deal with.

  But if he went hunting in Coronel Pilar instead of another village, he’d see the Blackhawk. Might even decide to kill the humans from Lamorak. That’d put a big dent in their plans.

  Then again, if they killed him right now, it could alert the other vampires inside the cave. What if the Watchtower escaped while they were dealing with the Hunters?

  Their singular consciousness fractured with indecision. And as it always goes, in not choosing a path, one was chosen for them.

  The Hunter turned, then crouched as if he intended to dive into the pool and swim down the length of the river. The three women flinched as one, but it was Tisiphone who knotted her fists in preparation of an underwater brawl.

  Thankfully, the Hunter didn’t dive into the water, but instead, leapt high into the air, clearing the pool, and landing in the soft mud west of the falls. He ripped his feet free, the slurping mud reluctant to release him, then shot off in a blur through the jungle in the opposite direction of Coronel Pilar.

  The Furies didn’t wait to see if the Hunter doubled back. Alecto and Megaera leapt down from their hideaways. Tisiphone pushed up from the bottom of the pool and swam for the mouth of the cave. The blast of the waterfall fought to keep her away, and though not insurmountable, proved a challenge not worth the effort.

  Tisiphone pulled herself up on the same flat shelf that the Hunter had stood upon. Alecto and Megaera joined her mere moments later. They pressed their backs flat against the cool wall of the rock cliff, shuffled one by one behind the cascade, and stepped into the mouth of the cave.

  The cave was small. Only ten feet high and eight feet wide. The Furies fell together, shoulder to shoulder. The waterfall behind them blocked out what little light the stars could lend, but up ahead, only twenty yards in, a small kerosene lantern burned atop an ancient-looking wooden desk. Sitting in a matching chair, with his back to the Furies, was another Hunter.

  The roar of millions of gallons of rushing water deafened the Hunter to the Furies, drowning out not only their footfalls but also their heartbeats. His legs were crossed, an open book in his lap. The hood of his duster was up, blocking his peripheral vision.

  It was strange to see a Hunter so vulnerable, but apathy was the downfall of nations. The Hunter shifted in his seat, his broad shoulders hitching in a laugh (borne by something comical in his book), but it was lost to the roar of water.

  Alecto shot a glance behind them to make sure the first Hunter hadn’t returned. This could all be a trap. The corridor was empty. Alecto turned her gaze back to Hunter number two, and her hands drifted into Tisiphone’s and Megaera’s.

  The three took a deep breath, held it, then attacked.

  The Furies weren’t sure if this Hunter was a pyro or a telekinetic, and they would never know. Megaera snatched the man’s left arm, Tisiphone his right. Yanking outward in unison, they plucked his arms off like the pedals of a flower. Alecto twisted the man’s head around backward. His eyes bulged in shock, and his mouth hung open in protest. Then Alecto removed the vampire’s head and rolled it further into the cave.

  Two voices, barely audible above the waterfall, shouted in fright. The owners of the screams rushed up into the circle of light cast by the lantern. One was a short, dumpy woman with curly hair. The other was a slightly taller man with a shiny bald head and a crooked nose.

  “We have little time,” Tisiphone shouted over the noise. “In a minute or two, this cave will be filled with savage spores. If you wish to escape that fate, and possibly earn your freedom, come with us now.”

  The man looked to the woman. “I told you I had a vision of the Furies.”

  The woman rolled her eyes and made to speak, but Tisiphone cut her off.

  “Talk later. We must flee before the other Hunter returns. Stay between us. Do not attempt an escape or we will kill you. Understand?”

  The pair nodded.

  Alecto led the group out. The Watchtower augurs fell in behind her, with Tisiphone and Megaera flanking them on both sides.

  The dead Hunter was already bloating, his flesh turning black. With any luck, the first Hunter wouldn’t return until the spores had dissipated. Not that they cared if he died, but they didn’t want a savage wreaking havoc in Coronel Pilar and the surrounding villages.

  Their hearts raced as they made their exodus, and their legs felt rubbery and weak. They wedged themselves between the wall and the water, sure that, at any moment, the remaining Hunter would swoop down and strike.

  Out on the rock shelf, Alecto scanned the jungle for danger. All was as it had been. Megaera urged the woman augur out from behind the falls, as Tisiphone did the man. They leapt from the shelf and dove into the pool. The five of them swam beneath the surface of the water, not daring to surface until the deep river returned to the shallow creek.

  They rushed through the jungle, snapping through the trees, no longer caring for stealth. The roar of the waterfall fell silent behind them, and soon
, the quaking thrum of the helicopter grew.

  They broke into the clearing at a dead run, coming at the Blackhawk with such speed that the humans of Lamorak barely had time to register their arrival. The mortal woman stood by the open door and the five vampires boarded without a word.

  The engines revved, the propellors quickened. The Blackhawk lurched, and then the ground fell away. But before they climbed over twenty feet, the helicopter lurched again, this time violently.

  The passengers in the hold slammed hard into the starboard side. Red lights strobed and a shrill alarm warbled its warning.

  The human woman righted herself, placed her left hand upon her headphones and listened as someone in the cockpit spoke.

  “We have a stowaway,” she shouted to the Furies. “He’s hanging on the wheel to port.” She pointed at the opposite wall to solidify her point. “He’s trying to set us on fire. The downward gusts are hindering him, but I doubt for long.”

  “We must land,” Tisiphone said. She wasn’t sure if the woman could read her lips, but she couldn’t risk shouting it and having the Hunter overhear.

  “That’s a bad idea,” the woman replied.

  “We can’t fight him up here. Not like this. He’ll roast us alive.”

  The woman climbed to her feet but swayed as though her knees were weak. This was partly because of the turbulent rocking of the helicopter as the Hunter smashed and pounded on the outer shell, but mostly from the concussion she no doubt had sustained from the fall.

  The pilots were maneuvering the Blackhawk in an attempt to shake the Hunter free, but to no avail. It was only a matter of time before he brought them down in a fiery crash.

  The woman put her bare thumb on a small square pad atop an armored box fastened to the floor. A moment later, there came a beep, and the lip popped open. From the box, she pulled a massive pistol with a large-bore barrel. She shoved it into Alecto’s hands as if it were too heavy for her to hold.

  “Shoot him with this. Ultraviolet infused rounds. There’s only three shots, so don’t miss.”

  Alecto held the gun out before her with a mixture of revulsion and respect. “Will this be enough to kill him?” Tisiphone asked.

  “No,” the woman answered flatly. “But it’s gonna sting like a bitch.” Then she sat down, buckled her safety belt, and clenched her eyes shut.

  Alecto yanked open the starboard door. The wind tore at her like a vengeful demon. Tisiphone took hold of Alecto’s legs. Megaera took hold of Tisiphone’s legs.

  Alecto leapt out of the door, trusting the others to keep her from falling to the ground, and her body slammed hard against the side of the Blackhawk.

  The Hunter spotted Alecto hanging upside down and ceased his thrashing. He clung to the wheel with one hand; in the other, he materialized a grapefruit-sized orb of fire. Absolute hatred poured from his eyes.

  He drew back, preparing to incinerate her.

  Alecto fired all three rounds, one right after the next. The reports boomed like thunder. The recoil caused even her powerful hands to tingle.

  Three small flowers of blood mixed with a thick, glowing, oily substance appeared on the Hunter’s chest, and the fire in his hand went cold. He screamed in anguish, unconsciously letting go of the helicopter’s wheel so he could clutch his chest with both hands. He fell forty feet before vanishing through the jungle’s canopy.

  The Blackhawk steadied, then continued to climb. Tisiphone and Megaera pulled Alecto back inside and shut the door. They turned in unison to the two Watchtower augurs, who were clutching each other in fright.

  “We have a proposition to make,” Tisiphone said.

  “And if we say no?” the male vampire asked.

  “Don’t say no. Yes is a much less painful word. Who knows, you may even survive.”

  Chapter Nineteen

  A yellow light flashed inside the dim transport cabin of the Blackhawk. There were no alarms and the human from Lamorak (a man named Carter) didn’t seem all that concerned, so Thad figured everything was on the up and up.

  Taos sat with his arm around Celeste, and she rested her head upon his chest. Both had their eyes closed, but they weren’t asleep.

  Thad spent the first half of the journey talking with Carter about the Blackhawk. First, he had tried to strike up a conversation about The Round Table, but after ten minutes of Carter feeding him close-ended answers and non-committed grunts, Thad gave up and turned to the Blackhawk.

  And why not? He was still a red-blooded American, even if he was an immortal killing machine. At one time, in what seemed another lifetime, he had considered enlisting in the Air Force after high school.

  That was before Jerusa and her ghost had walked into his life.

  Part of him still mourned the life he could’ve had with her. A human life of dating and love and marriage and kids. Nothing but a faded dream now. Jerusa didn’t recognize friend or foe anymore. And even if she hadn’t had her mind blanked by the stone cloak, she had chosen Silvanus.

  A spurt of bitter jealousy sprang up like indigestion, and he swallowed it back down.

  Taos and Celeste, roused by the flashing yellow light, slid down the row of seats, bumping into Thad and stealing him from his rueful imaginations.

  “What’s going on?” Taos asked Thad.

  “I don’t know.”

  Annoyed by Thad’s lack of information, Taos turned to Carter. He waved his hand, snapping his fingers in Carter’s face, but the human held up a finger, indicating Taos needed to wait. Taos hated waiting. And Thad loved seeing Taos in a foul mood.

  Carter nodded in response to something being relayed through his headphones. “Affirmative. I’ll prepare them.”

  “Prepare them for what?” Taos asked, more irritated than ever.

  Carter looked to the vampires. “We’re approaching the village of Ha, but there is a problem.”

  “Wonderful,” Taos growled.

  Celeste gently slapped him on the knee. “There’s always a problem. Wouldn’t expect anything less. Now hush and let the man speak.”

  “Get on with it,” Taos said.

  “The forest around the village is too lush. There’s no good place to set down. You’re going to have to jump.”

  “That’s not really a problem for us,” Thad said, but he sensed that jumping wasn’t the bad news. “What is it?”

  “We’ve burned too much fuel. Once you’re on the ground, we’re gonna hafta bug out for just a bit. But don’t worry, we’ll be back.”

  “I sure hope so,” Taos said through clenched teeth. “It’s one helluva long walk back.”

  Carter continued, unfazed. “We have ground forces stationed close, if you need reinforcements.”

  Something occurred to Thad. “Wait. If you can’t land. How are we getting back in?”

  Carter stood up and buckled his safety harness to the ceiling. He yanked open the sliding door, letting in the storm of wind and thunder from the propellors. He turned to face them once more, a cheesy grin spread across his face. “Y’all ever been fishin’?”

  “Yeah,” Thad replied, shouting over the noise. “Why do I get the feeling we’re the fish in this scenario?”

  The vampires approached the edge. The thick, green carpet of trees spread out horizon to horizon. The only break in the forest was a small circular opening to the south. The village of Ha.

  The Blackhawk descended to twenty feet over the treetops. From this vantage point, there was no way to tell how tall the trees actually were. They might have to fall sixty, maybe even eighty feet. A fall from that height may be a bit painful, but it wouldn’t kill him. Even so, the dwindling remnants of his humanity screamed for him to back away from the edge.

  He sensed all eyes upon him, especially Taos’s, and an obstinate wave rolled over him, washing the fear away. “See you on the ground.”

  Thad leapt from the Blackhawk in a swan-dive. He wasn’t sure why, except that he hated when Taos looked at him like he was still some weak human. He tucked his
knees, made a half turn, then spread wide, toes pointed down, hands raised above his head. The wind tore past him as he shot toward the ground. He closed his eyes, relishing the magnetic whisper of the earth below.

  As the canopy drew near, the trees parted, giving him safe passage. The gap was only a few feet, just enough for his thin frame to pass through, but the thick trunks and intertwining boughs groaned in protest.

  Fifteen feet from impact, a pillar of dark, ancient soil exploded upward, cushioning him in its soft embrace. The pillar collapsed, slowing his descent until Thad stood safely atop the freshly churned mound.

  Thad extended his hands, and the trees forty feet away cried out in protest as they once again parted, this time for Celeste. As she passed through the branches, he drew his hands in, willing another pillar of soft earth to snatch her from the sky. The soil obeyed, returning Celeste gently to the ground.

  Taos wasn’t so lucky.

  The blond giant fell like Icarus, smashing through the canopy, snapping the smaller limbs, bouncing off the thicker ones, then hit the mossy carpet of the forest floor with a dull thud.

  Taos stood up with a grunt of pain. Several broken bones snapped back into place, sounding eerily similar to the branches he broke on his way down. He twisted his head side to side, which produced a sound like bubble wrap being run over by a steamroller, then brushed the leaves and dirt from his hair.

  “You’re a real jerk.” Taos’s icy eyes were wide with fury, and a dangerous smile touched his lips.

  “Sorry ‘bout that,” Thad said with an overplayed shrug. “I only had time to grab one of you, and Celeste came first. Next time, space it out a bit further.”

  Taos lunged for Thad, but Celeste once again stepped between them. “We don’t have time for this, and frankly, it’s getting boring. We have work to do, so give it a rest.”

  Celeste was right, as usual. Now was not the time to sort out their problems. But that time was drawing near, and when it came in its fullness, the fight he and Taos had had in the cemetery would seem a playground skirmish by comparison.