by Megan Hawke
I pushed past him when the door swung open.
"You're welcome."
We only paused long enough for me to put on wrap-around sunglasses. A vampire had to establish eye contact with a mortal to hypnotize him. As a dhampir, Dane couldn’t be mesmerized by a vampire’s eyes. We both wore clear goggles, mine over my sunglasses, to protect our eyes against blood splatters.
Trash was strewn all about the store. The shelving was all gone. There was no place to hide a coffin, and besides it was all lit with indirect sunlight. Vampires despise any kind of sunlight, but indirect sunlight doesn't necessarily kill them. The damage depends on exactly how indirect.
We moved through the store, picking our way through the trash and debris. The storeroom was even worse. Trash was piled as high as our heads in places. It made it much darker, and there were no windows to let in light.
“I can feel her. That way."
I pointed to my right with the pistol. I felt wave after wave of lust and need pulling me towards her, getting stronger as I got closer. Was she calling me? Or having erotic dreams? I hated her even more as my body proceeded to ache for her. Vampire pheromones were not to blame; otherwise Dane would also have been affected. This was from the link we shared.
We wended our way around the numerous trash piles. In the corner we found four coffins, all in a row. Two were a dark grayish-blue, another was steel-gray and the last was lily white. Walking straight up to the steel-gray coffin, I nodded. I knew Anastasia was inside this one, but I didn't know if anyone was inside the other three.
I stared down at the coffin a long moment. "Anastasia first."
Dane hesitated. He looked down on the coffin with dread. As a male dhampir, he was probably as physically strong as Anastasia.
“She’s not Anna Stacy anymore,” I said. He nodded. “She’s not the woman you loved. She’s a vampire, who wants to do very bad things to your girlfriend.”
“I know, but it’s my fault she was Changed,” he said. “I recruited her. She only became a slayer because she loved me.”
Great. He didn’t seem to share the same concern about me. But I hunted vampires because three vamps attacked me the summer before college, beat me senseless, and drank half of my blood. I barely survived. We’d have to have a long talk about this. Later.
“I should’ve called Gabe or Wendy.” I shook my head, but it didn’t change anything. "Do you want me to do it this time?"
"Yes. No." He looked at my trembling hands. "I don't want to do it. Hell, I loved Anna.” He looked at my face. “It'll be hard… but if she has some kind of hold on you, then…"
Thankfully he left it unsaid. That was my fear as well. Part of me thought I shouldn't be anywhere near there when he staked her. What if she made me attack him? Could I be trusted? But I had to stay and see it done.
"Fine." Did I ever mention how eloquent I am?
I bent over so he could pull a stake and the little sledgehammer out of my pack. Then I removed the large silver cross from his pack. My hands were steadier with something to do; and so were my nerves. We were as ready as we'd ever be.
It was one of those coffins that they use for open casket funerals. Most vampires avoided them. I guess they only wanted one lid to open in the evening, but it made it easier for us to determine which end her head was located. Seconds could mean the difference between life and death during a staking. Vampires woke up when you opened their caskets. They didn't like it; and they typically woke up pretty cranky.
I took up position at the head of the coffin. Dane moved to about where her heart would be. When I opened the lid, he would place the stake and immediately start pounding away. It should only take a few seconds before Anastasia ceased to be undead, and became just plain ordinary dead.
Suddenly, all I could see was Anastasia. I could smell her intoxicating perfume, feel her lips on my neck. Her fangs penetrating my…
"She knows I'm here!"
I stumbled back against the wall. The crucifix and pistol fell from my grasp.
Dane looked at me with horror. He reacted instinctively, jerking open the heavy lid – to reveal her booted legs!
Dane was frantic. "She tricked us!"
I fell to my hands and knees. It felt like an avalanche of dread was burying me. The other half of the lid flew open and Anastasia sat up, hissing with fangs exposed. Dane stumbled and fell back against the coffin behind him. I watched, frozen, as she turned her enraged eyes on him as my hand touched something hard and cold. My pistol!
"Leave him alone!"
I pointed the pistol at her head and fired. Her head snapped back, but turned towards me. Her gaze couldn't penetrate the mirrored sunglasses, so I smiled under the mask and pulled the trigger again. Anastasia was a baby vamp, just a few years undead. The look of shock and pain on her face told me I was hurting her badly. So I aimed at her heart and fired twice more.
"Dane! Help me!"
Dane lunged at her, the stake held in both hands. He shoved it in right where I’d made a bullet hole. It only went in about three inches. She grabbed the stake with both hands and started pulling at it. So I jumped up and kicked out. My foot hit the end of the stake, driving it into her.
It was enough. She froze, eyes wide. Horror, pain, and soul-numbing fear filled me as she clutched at the stake, trying in vain to pull it out, her eyes locked accusingly with mine. I watched the life bleed out of her eyes, as something achingly deep and overwhelmingly cold died in me. Finally, I watched her hands stop convulsing and fall away from the stake as her whole body went limp. My unholy longing for her died with her.
“Oh, thank God!” I cried, feeling free and safe again. Eyes burning, tears flowing, the sudden adrenaline hit my knees which started shaking uncontrollably. Dane held onto me while I tried desperately to regain control of my emotions, and my legs.
“We did it. It’s over,” Dane whispered. “She can’t hurt you anymore.”
“Thank you,” I whispered, turning to look down at her. We watched for any sign of movement for several minutes. “Anastasia terrified me more than any other vampire before.”
"I ca —" Dane choked up, pulling away from me to stand over her. "I can't believe it came to this. Poor Anna." He shook his head, looking uncomfortable and embarrassed. "I staked the vampire that Changed her. Took me three months to find the undead bastard, but I got him."
His eyes were fierce as he thought about that long ago act of vengeance. Dane was kinda scary looking for a moment, then he looked down at Anastasia, and choked up again.
I opened my arms to welcome him back into the hug: to comfort him, but a bump came from inside the next coffin over. The one Dane had fallen against. We both jumped, and I yelped, and then we stared at each other as mortal terror fell over us. We slowly turned to that coffin. It was quiet. Did the vampire inside not hear us? Surely he had to know we were out here and he was in mortal danger!
Reaching over my shoulder, I pulled another stake and silently handed it to Dane. He picked up the dropped hammer and moved to stand over the coffin. It sounded like this vamp's head was at the same end as Anastasia's.
I nodded as I picked up the blessed cross and stood at the head of that coffin, and he nodded – he was ready. This coffin only had the one long lid. I reached down, feeling my heart sinking, and jerked open the coffin.
"Aaahhhhhhhhhh!" She writhed pathetically in the coffin. My eyes locked on her open mouth, no fangs.
"No!" It was just a Goth girl. A living human. Dane was so intent he didn't realize it. I saw the stake descending fast. I kicked out with all my strength, catching him on the upper arm below the shoulder. Dane cried out as he spun around and flipped over the fourth coffin in the group. "She's alive!"
"Please don't kill me! Please!"
"Stupid idiot!" I slammed the coffin closed, then opened it back up. She continued to scream. "Shut up. No one is going to hurt you."
Dane sat up and glared at me. I didn't care.
Furious, I threw caution to
the wind and pulled open the coffin Dane had tripped over. It was empty. The first coffin in the line was empty too.
I stomped over to the thrall. "What's your name?"
"Katie."
"Just Katie?"
"K-Katie Watson."
"Okay, Katie, where are the other vampires in her family?"
"I don't know." I felt like dirt treating her so harshly. "I just met Anastasia last night. All I know is she is part of Yuri Romanov’s family. Nothing else, I swear."
That scared the bejesus out of me. Yuri Romanov was one blood-thirsty vamp. He was head of a murderous vamp family recently arrived in Dallas. Rumor said that he’d brought six vampires with him, and I’d learned last night that he’d picked up at least three more American vamps since. His was one of two families of Euro-vamps in the area.
I pointed the pistol at her head, watching her eyes grow wide. “Where is Yuri’s family staying?” I spoke in an even measured tone. “Tell me or I will kill you.”
The pistol was trembling. A cold lump filled my stomach and I ground my teeth together, steadying my grip with a two-handed hold on the gun.
Instant and copious tears erupted. “I don’t know! Oh God, I don’t know!”
My own eyes started to burn again. I blinked fast to clear the tears. Be strong!
"You expect us to believe that?"
"It's true! I swear!"
I didn't believe her, but what could I do? "Get out."
Katie didn't have to be told twice. She stumbled out of her coffin. She stifled another wail of despair when she spotted Anastasia. Hand over her mouth, she stumbled away sobbing.
"Jesus, Sable, what's come over you?" Dane stood up and stretched. I noted he was favoring his right leg, too. Then he paused to massage his left upper arm where I kicked it. Okay, I felt a twinge of guilt for that. But I got over it real quick.
"What's come over me? Did you really just ask me what's come over me?" I pointed my pistol at Katie's retreating form, my hand was shaking worse than before. Dane's eyes grew wide. I wasn't going to shoot her for chrissake. "I was almost that!" Then I turned the pistol on Anastasia's corpse. "And I could've become that." Then I turned my fiercest gaze on him. "Ask me again what's come over me."
"You want to put the gun down?"
"No, I don't." But the tears had started flowing again.
I wanted to slam the pistol to the ground. I wanted to shove it through a wall. I wanted to do something violent and destructive. But I couldn't. So I took a deep breath, held it, and set the safety. Then I gently placed the Beretta on the floor and stepped back.
"You're not all right, are you?"
"I'll never be all right again."
He let out the saddest sigh I’d ever heard. "I know."
I shook my head. It was over. I hadn't lost my immortal soul. All was well in the little world of Sable Hart once again.
"Take me home, please."
Chapter 3
I awoke the next morning to the promise of a beautiful day, until a low, continuous thunder filled the air just as I was leaving for work. It was vaguely familiar. There was no rain. The railroad tracks weren't too far away, but the rumble was all wrong to be a train. So I looked out my living room window.
"Just lovely."
Six bikers on Harley-Davidsons were cruising slowly into the parking lot. I couldn't keep the grimace off my face. In my experience bikers were nice enough one-on-one, but God forbid a woman walk past a group of them. The catcalls were bad enough. It was worse when they just stopped and stared.
I had to be at work in thirty minutes, and it was a twenty-minute drive on a good day. It was rarely a good day, so I couldn't wait for the bikers to leave.
Lucky me. This has not been my week.
Second floor meant two flights of stairs down. I did it twice a day, and frequently in high heels, but not today. Wednesday was "youth" day, which meant I got to wear jeans and a nice shirt. And I usually wore my hair down. I wore a red polo and my dark red cowboy boots. The boots made me feel tough: casual, but tough.
Maybe I'll clean out my purse tonight. I stepped outside. A couple of the bikers had started up my stairs. Great. Life just keeps getting better and better.
My first thought: go back inside and lock the door, but I was running late. Bikers had never given me any real trouble. Besides, I'm a big girl, a real live vampire slayer. Hear me roar.
Starting down the stairs, I saw the first biker at the top of the lower flight of stairs. He stared at me with no trace of emotion as he started up, despite the smile I flashed at him.
Who was he expecting to find? Nothing but mine and old Mr. Saenz's apartments up there. I knew Mr. Saenz wouldn’t have anything to do with them.
I walked past him, feeling a chill running down my spine as I did. I sensed more than saw him stop and stare after me. The next biker reached the landing below me and started toward me. He caught my eyes, so I flashed my sweetest smile at him, too.
"Hello," I said.
His, "Hello," surprised me. "Are you Sable?"
"Yes." Even as I spoke I knew it was a mistake. There was no good reason those men were looking for me. "Can I help you?"
"Yeah." He slammed a fist into my belly.
I doubled up, my feet coming off the stairs. Wide-eyed, I watched, in slow motion, as my purse came off my shoulder. It tumbled down the stairs, with everything spewing out. All my stuff was cascading down those concrete and steel stairs, and I wondered why that was what bothered me.
"Pleased to meet you, babe," he said.
The first biker came back down as a third thumped his way up to us. On the landing below, he stopped to pick up my phone. He smiled up at me, then nodded at his compadres. Two more fists were hammered into my side and back. That left me crumpled on the steps.
The biker punched in a number and waited.
"Yeah, it's Randy." He started up the stairs as he spoke. "Tell Yuri we got Sable. I'll call you when we're ready to make the drop-off."
I looked past Randy. My keychain was on the landing, a couple of the keys hanging over the side.
"You're dead meat," Randy said. "You fucked with the wrong vampire."
I looked at him through the tears, still gasping for breath. It took another moment before I could gasp anything out. "They-they'll kill… me," I said. I sucked in a huge breath, held it, and let it out slowly. "You’d turn over a fellow human being to vampires?"
Randy moved another step closer, leering over me. "Sure. They pay real good."
I hurt all over. It was fixin’ to get worse. For the life of me, I couldn't think of any way out of it. Well one. Fight.
I spat in Randy’s face. He cried out in rage, but stepped back to wipe it off. The other two bikers cried out. I lashed out with my left foot and connected with the right knee of the man who had punched me first. I hit it just right. I think even the three bikers down on the ground heard that knee snap.
"Yeeeeoooooow!" he cried, lifting that leg up to clutch at it with both hands. That left him precariously balanced. I smiled cruelly and kicked again. "Oh shit!"
Randy moved to catch him as the third biker rushed me from above. He was descending on me like a hawk on a mouse. The biker was so cocksure of himself he tried to grab me instead of throwing a punch. I grabbed his wrist, turned, and flipped him into the other two. They went tumbling down the stairs as I fell on my butt, clutching at my aching ribs.
I cursed, and stumbled two steps back up towards my apartment before I remembered my keys. The three bikers were writhing in an angry looking pile on the landing below. My keys were gone: presumably in the grass below.
Did I mention what kind of week I was having?
The other three bikers reached the stairs and charged up uttering bone-chilling threats. All together, they probably topped out above seven hundred pounds of horse-power. My one hundred thirty-five wasn't going to win that contest, so I vaulted over the side.
I landed on the next flight down. I had to grab for the
railing to keep from tumbling on down. No, I don't know why I didn't vault the other way into the soft grass. I wasn't doing a whole lot of thinking ahead at that moment. I twisted my left ankle, but it could have been worse.
Of course, I went tumbling down the last three steps. Not far, but painful nonetheless. I rolled onto all fours, looked up to lock eyes with the surprised bikers. Scrambling back under the stairs on all fours, I tried to ignore the five hundred new pains as I looked for my lost keys. Adrenaline helped.
The human mind is a wonderful thing. Even with three monstrously huge killer bikers thundering down the stairs to beat me into a bloody pulp, I could not stop myself from picking up my lipstick, cell phone, and wallet before finding my keys. Don't ask why. I just couldn't leave them.
The bikers reached the bottom of the stairs as I stood up. They crouched between me and my car. My luck was holding.
I turned right and took a quick step. They took the bait and charged around that side of the stairs. I reversed direction and the race was on.
I had an old Ford Mustang. I pushed the unlock on my remote, and the car beeped happily at me. That was all that saved me. That and the power locks I hit even before closing the door. The power windows only worked in the back doors, but the locks worked all the way around. I loved that car.
The bikers pounded my car with fists and feet for a brief moment. I slipped the keys into the ignition as one of them smashed in the driver's-side window. Shards of glass rained over me as I started her up. He reached in and grabbed the front of my shirt as I floored the clutch and slammed it into reverse.
I sank my teeth into his arm and stomped on the gas pedal. I dragged him about fifteen feet, until I slammed into their bikes. My abrupt stop slung him around and he was flung off me. He ripped my shirt as he flew away. I aimed the car at the two bikers running towards me, and slammed on the gas. They scrambled to jump out of the way and I barely turned the wheel in time to avoid another crash, sideswiping the back of my neighbors' cars.