Jack’s eyes widened when she handed him one of them, but he shook his head, reaching for his belt buckle, instead.
“Don’t shift, yet.” Lily’s voice skimmed across his mind. “I need to get close enough so I can pick her brain…or what’s left of it anyway. I want to try and get a bead on where she’s made her lair. If we approach together, the distraction of two attackers might give me just enough of an edge.”
“Man, having your voice in my head feels weird. I’ve only communicated like that with other Hunters. Kind of sexy…”
“Head in the game, Jack…”
“On three, then?”
“Yeah, but approach with stealth, not like a screaming banshee. Got it?”
“Strength of the wolf is in the pack. After you, alpha-girl.”
“Wait! One more thing…”
Lily reached into her pocket and pulled out what looked like a tube of lip-gloss. Dragging the goopy applicator wand over her lips and under her nose, she then handed it to Jack.
“Vicks. It’ll help manage the stench.”
“How the hell…” he started to ask, but then held up his hand, wand and all. “On second thought, I don’t want to know.”
He smeared the Vicks exactly as instructed, then handed the tube back. Lily shoved it back into her pocket and with a single nod, unfolded herself but stayed in a defensive crouch. Jack did the same, but let her take the lead. What did he know? She was the one with all the vamp experience.
She moved out into the open, the stake in her right hand, flattened against her outer thigh. As she walked, its sharp edge dug into her skin through her pants.
Jack flanked her. They were barely five feet from the vampire and its victim, yet still in shadow. Jack’s nostrils flared, and he looked at Lily, his eyes puzzled.
She took a step closer, joining the vampire in the reflected light from the streetlamp at the edge of the playground.
“Holy mother of God!”
The female vampire stood over its victim, its lips pulled back over yellow, saliva-coated fangs, horrific in their cold symmetry.
Its victim lay half in shadow, half in the ambient light. “Lily, if that’s what I think it is, then she’s feeding on her own,” Jack’s voice was tight in her mind.
Gurgling sounds came from the vampire on the ground, it throat severed almost to its backbone.
This was what was wrong in the atmosphere. Like feeding on like. It didn’t add up. Vampires fought, even killed each other for various reasons, but never did they hunt and feed off each other like prey.
The vampire turned and hissed at them. Claw-like fingers, as bloodied as its mouth, swiped at the air, its nails, jagged-edged and caked with gore and dirt.
“Is it female?” Jack said, revulsion clear in his voice, even as it choked through Lily’s mind.
“Yes. It’s not the same vampire from the crime scene, but she’s definitely related.”
Just like the vampire from Lily’s visions, this one’s hair hung in ragged strings, but it was more from dirt and dried blood than from rot.
This one was redheaded, and she was young, both in human years and in vampiric terms. It was obvious she hadn’t been a vampire long. Lily shook her head almost imperceptibly. There was something wrong with this vampire, beyond the average ‘what’s wrong with this picture,’ notion of a human turned bloodthirsty predator. This creature was sick, and in the same manner, Lily sensed in the vampire from her visions at the crime scene. Reaching out with her senses, she registered only partial coherence in its thoughts, but blind anger and its craving for blood overrode even that.
It hissed again, shocking Lily back to the present. The vampire took a step toward them, but stopped, sniffing the air. It whirled around, its stench wafting toward Lily and Jack as she turned. Jack gagged, despite the scent of Vicks helping to mask the smell, his eyes widening in shock.
Lily didn’t move from her spot, keeping her eyes trained on the vampire and a tight grip on the butt of her stake.
The vampire straightened out of its crouch, its body language still tense, but no longer defensive.
A moan from the injured vampire on the ground broke the silence, pulling the redhead’s attention back to its prey. It stood as if torn, wanting to feed, but something else pulling its attention.
“Why isn’t it attacking?”
“I don’t know. It can see us, it smells our blood, I’m sure of it, but something else has it enthralled.”
From the shadows, thick with the stench of rot and old blood, another vampire walked into the moonlit patch of playground.
Lily tensed; her grip so tight on the stake, her knuckles looked as if they’d rip through her skin. “It’s her,” her voice shrilled in Jack head. “…the one from my visions. She must be the redhead’s maker.”
The older vampire was just as Lily remembered from her visions, though she smelled even worse, almost as if she was decaying from the inside out.
One look at the dying vampire on the ground and the older vampire backed-handed the redhead, sending her crashing against the children’s slide.
The vampire sniffed the air, whirling toward Lily and Jack, a guttural snarl coming from the back of her throat. Her eyes locked on Jack. Slowly the vampire advanced, her head tilted to the side as if curious or puzzled. She inhaled through her nose, her nostrils flaring slightly and her eyes narrowing.
“I’m guessing your scent is somehow familiar, but it’s as if she can’t place the smell.”
“Great. You can stick around and be a midnight snack. Me? I vote ‘no thank you’. She takes another step, and I’m phasing. Let’s see how she likes playing with the big dogs.”
Lily tried to touch the vampire’s thoughts, but the minute she slipped into her head, it roared, ripping its gaze from Jack and settling instead on Lily. Fragmented thoughts raced through Lily’s mind, but each laced with pain, both physical and emotional. This vampire had been tortured, and then left for dead.
The vampire’s eyes met Lily’s, as a flood of remembered pain washed through them both. Lily’s knees buckled, and the vampire tore at its hair, wordless screams echoing through the quiet dark. Behind them the redheaded vampire screeched and took off into the park. The older vampire not caring, as it sobbed into itself. Their eyes met again, and a single blood tear fell, leaving a trail of crimson as it dripped down the skull-like face. Lily heard two words murmur back through her mind. They were lucid. They were scared, and they were female. “Help me”.
In that one second, Lily’s mind locked on the vampire’s essence, and she saw her for what she was, and what she used to be. In a flash, the image was gone. The crazed creature was back, and with a feral snarl, she leaped over her and Jack and took off into the shadows.
Stake in hand, Lily scrambled to her feet and rushed to the injured vampire. Jack flanked her on the opposite site, standing with his body tensed for action and his feet in a defensive stance. He kept himself half turned toward the darkened park, stake out, ready for anything from any direction.
The vampire on the ground was a young male. With his baby face and hip-hop styled clothing, he looked to be no more than eighteen. Nevertheless, knowing the nature of vampires, he could have been any age. Somehow, though, Lily sensed he was just a kid—by any definition, vamp or human.
The boy-vamp’s heart was intact, and though the redhead had ripped his throat from end to end, his head was still attached. He was healing, but much too slowly for such a young vampire.
His gaze flicked back and forth, and though fear expanded its hold from her chest to her throat, Lily approached with caution, her fingers itching for her crossbow. Injured or not, a vampire was still a predator, and there was nothing that got in the way of their bloodlust except death.
Looking at him now, that’s exactly what Lily read in his eyes. He wanted to die. But why? None of this made any sense. Vampires rebounded from injury, even near fatal injury, faster than any other supernatural being. At least that was what she�
��d been told.
“Will you just stake him already before the queen vamp and her court decide to come back?” Jack’s voice rushed from his mouth in a harsh whisper.
“Not a chance, Jack. He’s been attacked, and if we help him, maybe he’ll help us find out who’s behind all this. If it’s the female vamp, or if she’s just a puppet.” Lily answered, shrugging out of her coat and rolling it into a ball.
Jack’s jaw dropped when he realized what she intended. “Have you lost your fucking mind? You’re not seriously going to stick that under the vamp’s head, are you? Why not read it a bedtime story?” he asked, throwing his arm up. “We are not nursemaids to the undead! You get too close to that creature, and I promise it will use your blood for a booster shot. Do you hear me?”
Not waiting for a reply, Jack scowled, sticking the stake between his teeth, he dropping to his hands and knees. His body contorted, muscle and bone reshaping in seconds under his clothes, shredding his shirt and pants. A majestic grey wolf stood in Jack’s place amid pieces of torn fabric. Baring his teeth, a low, guttural growl rumbled from the back of his throat, directed at both Lily and the vampire, as well.
Lily stood with the rolled up duster in her hands, waiting for Jack to make a move. He chuffed, dipping his big head, and Lily answered with a nod of her own, acknowledging the big wolf and the message she hoped he meant to convey. She glanced down at the vampire. “Do you understand what we’ve been talking about?” she asked, watching its face and eyes, bracing for any quick movements. She doubted it had enough strength to draw breath, but she stayed in a defensive stance, nonetheless.
The vampire nodded.
“You understand something’s wrong, don’t you? You’re not healing, and you haven’t stopped bleeding. I know you can’t speak, but I want to prop this under your head to help ease your breathing.”
Jack growled, this time chuffing out his warning while he scored the grass next to the vampire with his front paw.
“My wolf friend would like nothing better than to finish what the redhead started, and rip that head of yours the rest of the way off,” she said, gesturing toward Jack. “The only thing stopping him is me. Understand?”
The vampire nodded again, his eyes moving from Lily to the wolf and back again. They were full of fear, and Lily’s heart squeezed. He was so young, and he was facing death all over again, but this time there was no deposit, no return. A twice cursed vampire.
“We need information, and I think you just might be the one to give it to us. There have been a number of serious attacks…” The vampire’s eyes widened, and Lily stopped midsentence. She glanced over at Jack who chuffed again.
She shifted her gaze back to the vampire and crossed her arms loosely in front of her chest. They needed the information, but he was terrorized enough already. The last thing they needed was for the knowledge to die with him because of fear. The incongruity of the situation hit her, as she looked at the poor kid. Vampires, as a rule, were the ones doing the terrorizing, but any idea of payback being a real bitch was lost, as she watched the spectrum of emotion shadow the young vampire’s face.
“I guess by that look, you know what I’m talking about. Here’s the deal…I have this gift. I can sometimes see things that have happened in the past, and that helps me piece things together to find the cause. I have a strong suspicion your lady friends are involved somehow. Something’s wrong with them, but I think you already know that, too.”
Jack whined, covering his nose with one paw and then chuffing harder out his nose and mouth.
Lily smelled it too. The vampire’s body was giving off a nasty odor, the same rancid smell as the redhead, only to a lesser degree. The older vampire smelled the worst, like true rot, and Lily wondered if it meant whatever this was, was occurring in stages.
She looked back at the vampire. “You strike me as reasonable, even though you don’t have much choice. I’m willing to bet that you’ve made the connection between what’s wrong with them and why you’re not healing. It’s why you want to die.”
The vampire’s eyes were like saucers now, and he nodded slowly, blood tears misting his eyes like a red film and spilling over onto his already streaked face.
“I told you, I see things that have happened in the past, but when it comes to supernatural beings, I can sometimes read their thoughts. That’s what I want you to help me with. I want to see what you’ve seen. Hear what you’ve heard. That way maybe you can help us stop this from happening again—to anyone.”
Lily squatted down slowly, her eyes never leaving the vampire. “You try anything, and my wolf friend will gladly give you your death wish, and I guarantee it won’t be pretty. Got it?”
The vampire nodded, trying to exhale, but a gurgle of bloody bubbles was all he could manage.
From the side, Lily lifted the vampire’s head and fit her coat under its head. Blood pooled, seeping into the soft leather, but at this point, she didn’t care. She moved to sit back, except the vampire’s hand shot out from the side, grabbing her forearm. He squeezed, not enough to crush bone, but enough to let her know the urgency of time. He was dying, and his eyes searched hers in fear, searching for answers and a way to absolution.
Jack leaped forward, foam dripping from his mouth as he growled and snapped. Lily held up her other hand. “It’s okay, Jack. He’s just afraid. He knows he doesn’t have much time, and he’s telling me to hurry before it’s too late.”
Jack growled an acknowledgement but stayed close, nevertheless.
Lily covered the vampire’s hand with hers, and closed her eyes, knowing Jack was primed and ready for the kill should anything happen.
She focused on the image of the vampire in her head, and followed the thread to the opening he had left for her in his own mind. The vampire met her there at the aperture and invited her in. The irony of the gesture registered in the back of her mind. Vampire’s needed an invitation before crossing a threshold, and here she was, invited to enter his mind.
The vampire’s image changed the minute Lily’s mind merged with his. Suddenly he was young, as handsome as any one of the teenage heartthrobs gracing the cover of pop magazines. He greeted her with a smile, his fangs peeking out, just grazing the top of his lower lip.
“What’s your name?” Lily asked, watching her words flutter like feathers in the air.
“Michael.”
She nodded, more in acknowledgement than greeting. This wasn’t a social call.
Without a word, he raised his arm, and they were surrounded at once by images on all sides, the vampiric version of Disney’s circle-vision 360. Lily’s mind reeled with the onslaught of his memories in full color, sound, motion and smell. Her stomach flip-flopped, churning much in the same way it had at the crime scene. It had to be the way the vampire mind worked, how it processed information at the speed of light and sound that caused such vertigo.
Michael showed her glimpses of his human life, the ordinary day to day of school and friends. Then the scene shifted to the night he met the redheaded vampire. How she lured him from the club’s dance floor into the bathroom with the promise of quick sex, only to leave him on the tiled floor covered in blood and writhing in pain, as the conversion began.
Lily’s heart clenched, realizing Michael’s own naiveté had been the means to his lost innocence and stolen life. How many other youths had fallen victims to their own stupid belief of, ‘that will never happen to me’? With this creature on the loose, odds were, the stats would increase substantially if they didn’t get to the source fast enough.
The scene shifted again, and this time Lily was no longer a spectator. She was there in a dark tunnel with the young vampire, the only sound, the echo of water dripping from the vaulted ceiling as they pressed themselves further into the stone. Following some sort of trail, they moved silently through the passage and out onto the great lawn of New York’s Central Park.
Even through the scent of dank water, Michael’s newly heightened vampiric sense of smell
told them the creature was close. He had found the redhead who had changed him and left him for dead.
From the upper most part of the Bethesda Terrace, they spotted the creature. But she wasn’t alone. The older one was with her, and they moved quickly, making their way past the pond toward the trees, but morning was still too far off for them to be heading for cover. What was making them move like that at this hour?
For Lily, it was obvious. These predators were also prey. Tracked and hunted, but by whom?
Her eyes snapped open as she slid out of the vampire’s mind. He let go of her arm and slumped back onto the soft leather of her coat.
“You did well, Michael, thank you,” Lily whispered, patting his hand. As she moved to push herself to standing, the vampire’s hand shot out once more, but this time it was to grab the stake from Lily’s hand.
She fell backward with a soft whoomph, throwing her arms up to protect herself from his strike.
Michael raised the stake in both hands, but instead, turned the pointed edge toward his own chest. Jack lunged as Lily scrambled to her knees, the realization of what he was about to do dawning on them both.
“No!” she shouted, but it was too late. The young vampire plunged the sharpened tip straight into his heart.
A rough gasp gurgled up from his ruined throat, but a ghost of a smile touched his lips as he slumped down, his body crumpling to ash.
“Michael!” Lily cried, hunched over the molded cinders, but afraid to touch what was left. His silhouetted shape mimicked the bodies found in Pompeii, frozen in volcanic soot at the foot of Mt. Vesuvius.
Her chin dropped to her chest, and her throat tightened as she whispered a quick prayer, Jack whining beside her in reply. The wind surged, encircling Michael’s form and whirling the ashes into a mini vortex, before blowing them away like so much New York soot. The words “Thank you,” feathered across Lily’s mind, and then all was silent.
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