by Nigel Henry
"Will do." Unfortunately, the plan entails not killing the vamp, so there goes the one thing that would probably make this evening better.
The vampire squares up on the rooftop across from me, then he breaks out into a run and leaps off, toward me. Across a goddamn street.
Who said dead men can't jump?
"Fall. Come on, fall," I whisper as he hangs in the air for what feels like forever.
"Are you seeing this?" Perkins says over the radio.
"Seeing him freaking fly? Yeah, I noticed."
He sticks the landing right in front of me because of course he does.
"You know," I say as he trains his dead gray eyes on me, "if this whole evil creature of the night thing doesn't work out, you should totally try out for the Knicks. You've got ups, buddy."
"Three nights in a row," the vampire says. "It's as if you've got a death wish."
"Yeah, well, if you knew me you'd know I can't stand to see a mess left out. I like to see the garbage put away."
"And what is your plan? Fight me long enough for your father on the next rooftop to swoop in and save you?"
I pull out my stake. "Nope. My plan is to run you through with a stake. Maybe kick your body a little once it's dead. Then I definitely plan to watch Fallon."
"You won't get the chance to use that stake."
I swing my staking arm in a windmill. "I'm shaking in my boots. Come on, pal. Let's have one last dance."
He's on me quick, but after two fights I've wised up to his act. I don't stand a chance if I try to go toe-to-toe with him. I've got to out-think him this go-round. So now, instead of trying to trade blows, I wait for him to get close, then I duck underneath him and jab the stake into his knee. Then I dart back as he screams and yanks it out.
"Oh, did baby get a boo-boo?" I taunt.
"I will coat the streets with your blood!"
"Whatever, Edward. Bring it."
His eyes twitch at the mention of the name. I guess even vampires didn't like Twilight.
He charges and tries to tackle me to the ground. This time I hit the deck, sliding between his legs and punching his groin as hard as I can. Now he's the one hitting the ground.
I get up and dust myself off. "You're getting slow in your old age," I tell him. "You are old, right? You didn't get turned like four days ago? Because that would be embarrassing for me."
The vampire roars as it gets to its feet. This time it comes at me squared up, like a boxer. It sends a left hook and right cross my way, and I can just barely duck both before a jab catches me in the jaw.
Fuck that hurts. It's like being punched with a stone club. The impact is just enough to make me woozy, and I stumble backward. The demon uses the opportunity to close and wrap me up in a bear hug.
"Farewell, human. You weren't strong enough."
He bites into my neck and I feel the pressure as fangs dig into the collar. Thankfully, the Kevlar does its job and holds. I've still got a neck.
He pulls away, still holding me in the hug while he looks at the collar in confusion.
"Talk about not strong enough," I gasp. "I didn't even feel that."
The vampire reaches a hand up to the collar, but something grabs him before he can reach it. It's my Dad!
"Take a bath," he shouts as he splashes a vial of holy water into the vampire's face.
Now THAT does the trick. The vampire drops me with the quickness and collapses to the ground in screams. Dad follows up with a crowbar to the head.
I lay on the ground for a moment, catching my breath, but I rise just in time to see the vampire as it catches the crowbar from Dad. It's about to return a blow to him when I pop the top on my own holy water vial and let it rain.
The vampire continues screaming and begins to steam. I catch the smell of burning meat. All right, so holy water does work against vamps. I'm going to keep this one in memory.
I don't wait for it to recover. I pull out the tracker and I straddle the screaming vampire, stake in my one hand and tracker in the other. I lean in close.
"You don't smell so good," I taunt as I use the distraction to slide the tracker into its pants pocket. Then I raise the stake high.
"We're going to kill you," I say, "then we're going to kill whoever hired you." I'm not actually, but it doesn't need to know that.
I bring the stake down, but the vampire rolls at the last minute and I stab into blacktop with all of my strength. Ouch.
The vampire tosses me back into Dad, and we both hit the deck. I'm up just in time to see the vamp leap back across the street. It's running away.
I immediately radio Mom. "Outkast to Whitney. Tell me you've got him."
"Yup, and he's moving fast," she answers. "Get down here!"
Dad places a hand on my shoulder. "Are you okay?"
"Never better,” I say, touching the collar and feeling the indents from where I was nearly bitten. "Now let's go catch us a bloodsucker."
TWENTY-ONE
I WATCH the buildings go by as we move up Broadway in Inspector Perkins' squad car. Dad and I are in the back seat, Mom's in the front, watching the blip on her phone that represents the vampire’s movements across a map and giving directions to Perkins. From what she's been able to gather, it looks like the vampire settled in near Ninth Avenue in Inwood. Perkins says there's some auto body shops and junkyards around there. I guess that's the ideal place to go lick your wounds. Of course, we're left just hoping the vamp's doing the licking while delivering the bad news to whoever hired it.
I'm getting angrier and angrier as we get closer to the location. I finger the collar once more and suddenly I feel like I might blow a gasket. That asshole vampire tried to kill me. And someone put it up to the task. I swear to God, by the time I'm done with them, they're going to wish they'd never met me. I'm going to shove stakes so far up their asses they'll be coughing wood shavings. And yes, I realize that probably won't kill a vampire. I'm counting on it.
Perkins stops just past the elevated train tracks on Tenth Avenue, and the Number One train rumbles overhead, shaking the car.
"We're here," Mom says. "The tracker's one block over."
Dad opens the car door. "I'm going to scout on a rooftop and make sure we're not walking into a trap."
"Be careful," I say.
"You too."
He closes the door and bolts off across the street. The rest of us follow the tracker, keeping to the shadows as we move, weapons hidden but still accessible.
I work to keep my breathing steady. We have no idea what we're about to find. At best, we're going to go up against a vampire and the kidnapper. At worst, we're facing a vampire, a rogue police officer, and the kidnapper, who is probably an inhuman monster.
This is why my parents should let me carry a gun. I settle myself by feeling the collapsible baton at my side, the stake in my jacket pocket, the knife strapped to the thigh, and the salt balls slung across my chest, and the slingshot at my waist. It'll take a lot before I'm completely disarmed. And even then, Perkins still has a gun. So it's not like we're going in empty handed.
Dad's voice comes in over the radio. "I've got eyes on two bodies. Looks like one's the vampire. The second is shaped like a human, but I can't see a face."
"Copy that," Mom replies. She nods, and we creep up to a junk lot that stretches half the block. Rusted out cars piled five high line up against the chain fence, blocking off the inside.
"Oh, this isn't creepy at all," I whisper.
"It's a drug haven," Perkins says.
"And now it's a vampire nest." Maybe we should have a talk with the owner when this is over.
Very quietly, we slink toward the entrance, and as we draw closer, we begin to hear bits and pieces of a conversation.
"...how is it possible that you can't handle one little goddamn girl? You're supposed to be twenty times stronger than her."
"You never told me I'd be going up against Buffy the goddamn vampire slayer. This girl's prepared. She's got stakes and holy water
and a goddamn neck guard. Who wears a fucking neck guard?"
"Do you have any idea what kind of jeopardy you've put us in? If they trace it back to us..."
"I'll take care of her and her family, I just need a little more time."
"More time? Mr. Tucker, have I not been clear about what's at stake here? If you don't kill this girl, consider your task failed. We both know how important success is to your kind's continued survival."
I try to hold back a snicker at the thought of the vampire being addressed like he's a high schooler. And "Tucker" is his last name? What century is he from?
Perkins peeks around the corner and holds up his hand, all five fingers spread. Snicker time is over, it's about to go down.
He shows four fingers. Three. Two. One.
Perkins turns the corner and starts firing. Mom and I bolt in as well. This time, it's the vampire who doesn't have time to react before I've tackled him to the ground. In one smooth motion, I draw and extend my baton and then bring it down across his jaw. I hear a crack and repeat.
To the left, I can hear more gunshots, but I don't take my eyes off Tucker. I can't afford to give him anything other than my full concentration. I keep slamming the baton into his face, over and over, until his undead ass finally begins to bleed.
"Looks like I'm the one painting with your blood, motherfucker," I growl.
The fucker's face is bloody and swollen, but he has the nerve the smile. "For now," he coughs.
I feel his hands on my waist, and then he tosses me like a rag doll clear off him. I land on my back five feet away, and the baton goes flying from my hand. I roll to my feet, my hands already drawing the stake.
I'm at the ready, and the vampire and I both stare at each other for a moment. Tucker spits blood to the ground. "Not bad," he says. "I think you knocked a fang loose."
"I'm about to knock more than that."
"Maybe, but not today, little girl."
I charge, but the vampire chooses that moment to reveal another ability. He turns into a bat.
No, seriously. He turns into a goddamn tiny bat. Fur, wings and all. I try to stake it, but you try staking a moving bat. So all I can do is watch helplessly as he flutters away.
Okay. Another thing to add to the vampire files.
I turn my attention over to Mom and Perkins, but they've already got the other dude on the floor. There's a pool of blood under his shoulder.
Dad arrives as I approach, and together we all take a look at the dick that hired a vampire to kill me. It's a brown-skinned man with a bald head. He looks to be middle aged, and he's got a graying beard that's covered with blood.
"Any idea who this is?" Dad asks Perkins.
Perkins nods. "Yeah. Detective James Malone, 34th Precinct."
Dad kneels down next to the bleeding man. "You've been shot. You're losing a lot of blood. You will die if we don't get you the hospital. But before we do that, you're going to tell me why you tried to have my daughter murdered."
Detective Malone coughs up a bubble of blood. "Wrong place...wrong time. She... stuck... her nose... where it didn't belong," he gags.
"Who took the students?" Dad asks. "Was it you? What'd you do with them?"
"It... doesn't matter... who took them," Malone gasps. Each word seems like it's taking a huge effort. "They're... already... dead."
My body tenses at the words. No. Before I can think, I race forward and kick Malone in the ribs. "Where are they, you son of a bitch! Where are they?!"
Malone looks at me and smiles. "You... have... no idea what you're dealing with... you can't stop it..."
"Says the man bleeding out next to a pile of motor oil."
"Not... man..."
Malone's face strains as he lifts a hand, and I watch as it begins to grow, getting more muscular and jagged, with the nails growing longer and curving. Fur starts to sprout from his skin.
I take a step back. No way. No goddamn way.
"That's..." Mom says.
Dad's the only one who moves into action, drawing his knife from his belt and stabbing Malone in the chest. Malone's eyes bulge and his body spasm as he lets out a death scream that turns into a howl before dying out.
"What the hell was that?" Perkins says, dumbfounded. "One of you want to tell me what the hell happened to his hand?"
I know the answer, but I can't bring myself to say it. Not with what it means. Thankfully, Dad does it for me.
"He was a werewolf. There was a werewolf working right in the middle of the NYPD."
Sirens sound in the distance. "We need to leave," Mom notes.
"What about Malone?" Perkins says.
"It's fine," Dad says, motioning back to the body, which has continued to change form, even in death. It now looks like a horrible half-man, half-dog hybrid.
So, remember how I said trolls turn into liquid when they die? This is the werewolf equivalent. They turn back into their normal forms, which are thankfully just really big, really scary looking, roided-out wolves.
Perkins crosses himself, and then we all leave the junkyard, keeping to the darkness as we make our way back to the squad car.
WE SIT in silence for a bit during the ride home. Each of us trying to come to terms with what the hell just happened.
Malone was a werewolf. That worked for the police. That hired a vampire. To kill me.
God. Four days ago I didn't even know that vampires were real. Now, not only are they real, they've got some kind of cross-monster species work arrangement.
Dad breaks the silence. "Ria, you need to be careful at school."
"I know."
"I just saw a werewolf," Perkins says, his voice still sounding stunned. "This whole time I kind of hoped you were all crazy, but you're not."
"But how does this relate to the kidnappings?" Mom asks, pivoting us.
"Malone knew who took the kids," I say. "And he hired the vampire because I was on the right track."
"I can't argue with that," Dad says.
I bang my fist against the front seat in frustration. "It's Mr. Foster. I'm sure of it. There's too much there for it not to be him."
"We still need proof," Perkins says. "We can't make a move on him without proof."
"I'll get your proof," I say. "Detective Malone's not protecting him anymore, so it's time I paid a visit to Mr. Foster's neighborhood."
TWENTY-TWO
I AM HEATED the next morning. I mean, I am pissed. Steam is practically billowing out from my ears as I arrive at the school building. Not even the fact that it's Friday cheers me up. TGIF? More like TGIA: Thank God I'm Armed. And the moment I get a chance alone with Mr. Foster I'll show him that.
Shit, man: Foster is kidnapping or killing students. Or he's working with a werewolf to do so. Either way, he's a prime candidate for the sharp side of my knife.
Unfortunately, I still can't actually bring weapons into the school building, so I've got to make due with my shoe stake once more. This time, though, I've left the weapons in my trunk. Because no matter what happens, this ends tonight.
I'm so wrapped up in my thoughts that I don't interact with Will and Ariana at all during first-period biology class. I'm the first one out the door when the bell rings, bolting and leaving them in my dust. I'm moving with purpose, heading down the hallway quickly, when I bump into Marisol.
"Watch where you're going, psycho!" she snarls.
"Marisol, if you think I'm a murderous psychopath, maybe you shouldn't try to start shit with me," I reply as I walk past, using all of my resolve to keep from shoulder-checking her. Marisol's annoying, but she's not the villain. I'm on my way to see the villain.
I find him in his classroom, writing the day's lesson plan on the chalkboard as if nothing in the world is wrong. I think that's what annoys me the most about him. He looks so normal, wearing his rolled up blue dress shirt and blue jeans. He looks like he could be any person you walked past on the street. But he's not, he's a monster, who got involved with Camila and then kidnapped her and three
other students to keep his secret safe. Four people, all caught up in his web of lies.
I close the door and cough. "Ahem."
He turns to me, and his face shows momentary surprise. "Mariah? You're early. I didn't expect that."
"I'll bet," I say, barely holding back my contempt.
"Class doesn't start for another three minutes. What can I do for you?"
I think about the stake in my boot. I could pull it out, stab him in his heart and end this whole thing right now. But then I'd be the one going to jail. He'd be the victim, and Camila, Marcela, Kian, and Emilio would never find justice.
But just because I can't kill him right now, that doesn't mean I can't cut him a little bit.
"You're a math teacher, Mr. Foster. I wanted to talk to you about odds."
He puts down the chalk, wipes his hands together and sits on the corner of his desk. Part of me wants to admit that he's attractive, despite everything I know about him.
But then I think about the vampire fangs biting into my collar, and suddenly Mr. Foster might as well the goddamn Hunchback of Notre Dame.
"Odds?"
"Yeah, odds," I say. "What are the odds that a girl like me would run into a vampire and a werewolf together?"
The color drains from his face. "Excuse me?" he asks after a moment.
"Furthermore, what are the odds that I'd take down the werewolf? Leaving only the vampire and the piece of garbage that sent him after me?"
He cocks his head to the side in fake confusion. "Mariah, you're not making any sense."
And that's it. I've just about had enough of this lying snake feeding me garbage while using my first name. I walk up close to him and hiss my next words.
"I know who you are."
"What are you—"
"Camila. Marcela. Kian. Emilio," I spit each of their names at him. "I know it was you, and I know you hired a goddamn vampire to off me and protect you."
I jab my finger into his chest. "But you failed. And I'm coming for you in a way that will make prison seem like a vacation."
We lock eyes for a time, neither of us saying anything. I would kill this man if I could. I'm completely sure of it. I'm also sure I wouldn't feel a thing about it. My family and I hunt monsters for a living. Mr. Foster's just another breed.