by Megan Hawke
Her dark, dark eyes narrowed and she snarled. Only a vampire or werewolf could snarl like that. Very frightening.
Maria Teresa's petite hands were clenching and unclenching as she approached. Made me think she planned to pull me apart, one limb at a time. Even the thought was painful, but it gave me an idea. I redirected my fire and shot her in the right shoulder. That made her stop and scream.
When her right arm fell limp at her side, I knew I had hit on something. Flesh healed faster than bone. So I shot the left shoulder. That put a look of astonishment on her face. Oh yeah.
"Ouchie." I stood up, wobbling a second. All of that blessed silver inside me hurt to high heaven and back, but I suppressed all of the pain I could, and pushed on. Pulling out a grenade, I raised the pistol in the other hand and shot her pointblank in the left eye. Maria Teresa screamed. "Good girl."
With that, I pulled the pin and shoved the grenade into her mouth. It was just a little bigger than the opening. I grabbed her by the hair atop her head, and started pulling her, faster and faster, then propelled her right into the great room of the house.
Maria Teresa got about three feet into the great room before her head exploded. She wasn't coming back.
"I'm wasting time." I pulled another flare. "Time to burn this place down and get the hell out of Dodge."
Lighting the flare, I squatted low, then thrust up in a powerful flat-footed jump. The ceiling was two stories above me. I was still able to jump high enough to smash my fist through the sheet rock and deposit the burning flare.
I paused only long enough to ensure the fire was spreading in the attic.
Looking around at all the dead bodies, I frowned and wondered when such carnage stopped affecting me. Was it the moment I became a vampire? Or had staking vamps before that harden me?
Glancing out the open front door, I noticed most of the cars were gone. I couldn’t feel anyone else in the mansion. Everyone had made their escape while the dead at my feet kept me busy. But I considered a dozen dead vampires, including one of Clive's gang, a damned good night of carnage.
A noise in the main room made me hesitate. I was ready to leave, but if someone was still there I needed to put them down. Since I couldn't "feel" them, it had to be another vampire. Glancing around, I smiled at the raging fire above and all around the entry. Clive would have to find different accommodations.
I marched into the mansion's main room. To my right and across the room were three vampires. I'd never seen auras like theirs. Huge. Their malice radiated like beacons, making me grimace with the weight of it upon my soul. All three felt more powerful than Yuri. One vampire was sitting, with the other two standing to either side of him. He was a sight to behold, too. Tall and blonde and muscular.
"Hello, Clive Honeywell." I smiled roguishly. "Great party. Why'd everyone leave? Was it something I said?"
"Lovely. Yuri warned me you considered yourself a comedian," Clive said. What was it about English accents that was so appealing? "I see he is correct. Your sense of humor is absolutely wretched."
"Wretched? My humor is wretched?" I fought the urge to respond with a very bad imitation of an English accent. I shook my head woefully. "Do all vampires lose their sense of humor over time? Or just the evil ones?"
"Miles, Ophelia, be darlings and bring her to me." He sounded bored, but I detected suppressed hostility in his voice.
Miles Evans truly looked the part of an English butler. He even dressed like a butler. I expected him to say, "Dinner is served, milord," at any moment. Miles was only an inch taller than me.
Lady Ophelia Rowe was a stunner. I thought she was beautiful in her pictures, but in person she took my breath away. Her physical presence was electrifying. Her eyes were violet and her full lips blood red. She was as tall as me, but slimmer and with a larger bust.
Ophelia wore a corset dress similar to the late Maria Teresa's, but in the same shade of violet as her eyes. Talk about making those eyes pop.
"So this is the little tart terrorizing Yuri?" Ophelia said in a voice dripping with contempt. She looked me up and down, and I felt her dismissal. "This pathetic creature? My opinion of our dear Yuri is greatly diminished."
I loved their so snooty sounding aristocratic accents.
"Mine, too, but then, I'm going to kill Yuri. I may be prejudiced."
Miles gave me a disapproving look. So haughty. Did he learn that in butler school?
“You have a problem with me, little man?”
Oh, that pissed him off. He was good with that stiff upper lip crap, but a hostile crease formed between his brows and his eyes glinted with suppressed rage. I wagged my brows at him smugly, to rub it in. So Miles picked up a large, overstuffed chair and threw it at me. I had to dive to the side to avoid it. When I rolled back to my feet I found Ophelia standing before me, grinning evilly.
How did she do that?
“Impudent whelp.” She backhanded me.
That hurt. The aristocratic vamp packed a wallop. She spun me completely around and over a sofa. To my pride, I hung onto my pistol and came up shooting.
Ophelia did something I never dreamed a vampire could do. She “surged” at me. She didn’t walk or run or jump. The ancient English vampire seemed to slide flatfooted across the floor with incredible speed. Maybe it was a form of levitation I’ve never heard of, but she moved in an eye-blink.
The pistol was ripped out of my grasp even before it registered she was moving towards me. I stumbled back a step, looking incredulously at her. She smiled smugly, and suddenly that sofa smashed into me. I felt ribs snap and pain lance through my body as I was crushed between it and the wall.
“Ugh.” I shoved the sofa at her.
Ophelia waved her hand and the sofa went up and over her. Amazing! All three vampires were smiling haughtily at me. I was outmatched by any one of them. We all knew I was doomed.
The ceiling above me collapsed. “Hello!” I was surrounded by burning debris. Vampires do burn, and it was as painful for vamps as it was for humans. “Jesus!”
I seized a burning two by six, and thrust it at Ophelia. The burning board caught her on the right thigh, ripping her skirt and setting it aflame. She yelped and jumped back. The blue blooded vampire cursed like a sailor as she patted the flames consuming her skirt. Seeing her distracted, I kicked her in the chin and sent her reeling.
I pulled the katana and attacked. Ophelia had to be separated from her head before she recovered or I was in big trouble. She saw me coming, and dropped into a fighting stance and with bared fangs.
Ophelia did that levitating surge thing again, and was inside my guard in half a heartbeat. I didn’t see her coming. Her hand was around my throat and trying to pinch my head off before I knew what was happening. I tried to skewer her with the sword, but she seized my wrist with her other hand.
“Uugghhh!” I cried when she squeezed my wrist until it snapped.
The katana fell to the floor. Effortlessly, she lifted me off my feet and shook me violently. It takes a moment or two for vampire bones to heal. Really not long at all, but it seemed like it took my wrist forever to heal. Once it healed, I used both hands trying to pry her one hand off my throat and couldn’t. The ancient vampire was that strong.
She kept on shaking me while I beat her face with my fists, kneed her in the chin, kicked her in the belly and breasts. After a minute or two, she got tired of me abusing her, and threw me against the wall.
As I bounced, I rolled and found Ophelia waiting for me. She kicked me in the groin. When I bent over in pain, she kneed me in the face so hard I fell flat on the floor. I couldn’t move, barely conscious. Until that moment I didn’t know for sure if a vampire could be beaten unconscious. The answer was yes.
Ophelia nudged my limp body with her foot. “Well, that was certainly entertaining.”
She squatted beside me. I managed to open my eyes. She lifted my head up by my hair. I was facing the back door. I so wanted to get through that door.
“She�
�s done. I think I’ll rip the little plonker's head off. Slowly.”
“Please, my Lady, may I?” Miles said from across the room.
Ophelia hesitated, then stood up. She dragged me up by my hair.
“But of course, Miles. So rude of me to have all the fun.” Her other hand grabbed my belt. “Catch.”
She threw me across the room. Miles didn’t catch me, so I crashed head first into the wall. Chuckling, he seized my ponytail and jerked me to my feet. I could only glare at him. I was beginning to regain control of my limbs, and I was closer to the door.
“I’m starting to enjoy this.” Miles pushed his fingers up under my collar and held tight. He used his right fist to pound my belly. “Hmm, she’s not very strong. I’m afraid you’ve beaten all the fight out of her, my Lady. She’s such a bore now.”
More of the roof caved in. Half the room was burning now.
“Finish her,” Clive said. “Tie her up and toss her in the fire. Let her burn to death in the fire she started.”
“That sounds quite amusing, sir,” Miles said.
“Not to me.” I kneed him in the nuts. I used my best English accent, saying, "Ouch, bet that hurt, you bleeding wanker."
Miles’ eyes bugged out. His grip loosened and I batted his hand away. He thrust kicked me in the chest. That sent me reeling back across the room, away from the door, where I tripped over burning debris and fell to the floor. Something hard on the floor dug painfully into my back between my shoulder blades.
It was the katana's disk guard.
Miles reclaimed my attention. He was stalking towards me, hands extended, and a pissed off look on his otherwise bland face. I guess he thought the kick in the nuts was uncalled for. I smiled and pulled my last pistol, the one under my right arm. Left-handed, I pointed it at his heart.
“I have to give you credit, young lady, you are persistent. We both know your bleeding silver bullets will not slow me down, much less stop me. All you are doing is making me angrier.”
“Really?” Smiling wickedly, I lowered my aim. He stopped, eyes wide. “Bet this really pisses you off.”
I pulled the trigger. Three times. Miles groaned and bent over double, clutching his bleeding crotch.
Rolling up into a squat, I grabbed the katana with my right hand. Both Clive and Ophelia shouted warnings as I leapt to my feet and charged Miles. The look on Miles’ face was priceless, I hoped it froze in place when I lobbed his head off.
“No!” Clive cried when Miles’ head bounced at my feet. I gave it a kick, sending it into a pile of burning debris as more ceiling collapsed. “I will kill you! I will rip out your black heart and eat it!”
“Damn, you sure know how to make a girl feel special.” I grinned roguishly at him.
“I have her!” Ophelia said.
My head whipped around, to see her surge-sliding across the floor, arms extended to seize me. I spun the sword around and thrust straight back and she impaled herself upon it. Right through the heart. I could tell by the look on her face that it hurt. Really badly. The blade was cased in silver and blessed by a priest.
I knifed my left hand deep into her throat, and ripped out her windpipe. Ophelia’s eyes bugged out at the sight of her windpipe in my hand. I have to admit, it kinda freaked me out, too.
“Ophelia!
I sliced downward, cutting her open and spilling her guts. Not a fatal wound for a vampire. Hell, I could survive that, but it looked terribly painful. I suspect she would've screamed if I hadn't ripped out her windpipe. Ophelia stared at her spilled guts in horror, and started grasping at them, pulling them up. I didn’t hesitate. Taking a single step away, I spun completely around and brought that razor keen blade around in a savage cut.
Ophelia’s head came off with a meaty thunk, and I kicked it into the same pile of burning debris where Miles’ head was roasting.
Clive bashed me aside as he passed. He was more concern with retrieving those heads than killing me. My understanding was that once the head came off, a vampire could not be reanimated. The heart could be returned to reanimate, but there was a time limit. The fact that Clive was so intent on retrieving their heads worried me.
I should’ve made good my escape. I wasn’t that bright. Instead, I raced after Clive, intent on keeping him from saving his ancient minions.
Miles’ hair was completely burned away, and about half his face. It really was a terribly frightening sight. I wished I hadn’t looked. Ophelia wasn’t as bad, but most of her long, brown hair was burned away. Clive grabbed her jaw and flung her head out of the fire. I was behind him and the head flew straight at me.
I instinctively swung at it with the sword. I chopped the head in two midair. That impressed even me. I never had that kind of strength before becoming a vampire. Clive turned at the sound, before he got hold of Miles’ head. He saw the two pieces of her head on either side of me. I graced him with my most innocent grin.
“You monster!” he cried. “Die!”
I speared one half of her head with the sword, and flung it across the room and into another pile of burning debris.
“You can try and… yikes!” I was lifted off my feet. Levitated by Clive. “Let me down, you moron.”
He was stalking towards me with the most murderous look I’ve ever seen. My heart sank into my stomach and a cold chill consumed me. Clive didn’t look like he would spend much time killing me. Ophelia and Miles played with me, and that was their undoing. The Big Boss Vampire wasn’t going to make that mistake.
“Can we talk about this?”
“They were my friends. You had no right to kill them.”
“Oh, wrong, Mr. Euro-dickhead.” A little bravado feels good when you're utterly helpless three feet off the floor. “Self-defense. They wanted to kill me.”
I threw the sword at him. He knocked it aside with his vampiric powers, of which I knew nothing. I wish I did, then I might have a counter against them. If I survived this I would have a few more questions for Boney.
“I know all about your plans to turn Dallas into a vampire city.”
That made him pause and I noted a hint of curiosity.
“Well then, love, I have another reason to kill you.”
Not the response I anticipated. You’d think he’d want to take me with him, to question me later about who else knew about his evil plans.
Clive held out his open hand and the sword flew into it. Holy shit! I was so envious. I couldn’t do that. Boy did I have questions for Bone Daddy.
“Blessed silver,” Clive sneered. “I can’t believe a vampire would carry such a vile weapon.”
“It’s vampires that are vile, not the silver.”
He looked at me like he had licked something sour and nasty.
“You are a vampire.”
“Not by choice.”
Clive stepped closer, lifting the blade up. He admired it a long moment. I swallowed hard, unable to pull my eyes from that silvery blade. I tried willing myself down to the floor, or up to the ceiling. I tried "swimming" away. Clive held me firmly in place.
“I have the remedy,” Clive said, and thrust the sword into me.
"I don't think I want – Ugh!"
The silver-cased blade penetrated my body between my breasts, going straight into my heart and out my back. I grabbed the blade, trying in vain to pull it back out, feeling that white hot silver slicing up my fingers. Clive twisted the blade.
“Aaaiiiiieeeee!”
"Is dying as much fun as killing my friends?" He pulled the sword out and thrust it into my belly. "Was it all worth it, love?"
"Aaagghh." I moaned and groaned, then sneered at him. "Yes! I hurt you a hundred times worse than you can ever hurt me!"
Clive's eyes narrowed. He twisted the sword, then ripped it out. I gasped and groaned, praying he would lose his temper and end my suffering.
With the sword out of my body, Clive stepped to the side and I felt my body starting to move. He was using his vampiric power to shift me into a more con
venient position. I was rolling slowly to horizontal, with Clive to one side. My arms were pulled down to my side and held in place, while my head was pulled until my neck was stretched painfully. I wasn't sure if he would decapitate me with the sword or just pull my head off with his mind.
Clive raised the sword high. "Now you die."
"Jesus! Please forgive me my mortal sins! You are my Lord and —"
Gunfire erupted.
Clive grunted and I fell to the floor. Hitting the floor face first, I lay stunned a bare second, more surprised than hurt. I rolled away from Clive the moment I got my wits back. He was cursing furiously as an endless supply of bullets continued to rip into him. Spotting one of my Berettas, I scrambled to it and snatched it up. Rolling onto my back I shot him in the head.
"Get out, Sable!" Gabe cried.
I couldn't look at him without squinting. He wore crosses around his neck, strapped to both legs and arms – everywhere. Looking into the sun would've been less painful for a vampire.
The crazy bastard was holding an old Army M60 machine gun one-handed, the stock tucked up under his arm. He must've thought he was a Hollywood action hero or something. The other hand was holding the belt of ammo, feeding it into the gun. He was pumping ten to fifteen round bursts into Clive. The sound already had my ears ringing.
"Wahoo, Gabe!" I cried between bursts.
Clive was being pounded back by the pummeling of those silver bullets, even though most seemed to be passing all the way through his body. There had to be a limit to how many silver bullets a vampire could hold, even an ancient old bloodsucker like Clive.
"Hold him there." I ripped a leg off a coffee table, and then smashed it against the floor, splintering it. "That'll work."
I brandished eighteen inches of splintered wood, sharp enough on the broken end to sink through vampire flesh. What we in the business called a stake. A one way ticket to Hell for a vampire.
I raced toward Clive. He saw me coming and turned to face me. The M60 pushed him a good four feet to the side. Clive wasn't having it. He screamed in rage, and threw the sword at me. I had to dodge it, and he took that opportunity to leave.