by Declan Finn
“How did you know Amanda was a vampire?”
“You know my methods, Marco,” he said, in an impersonation of Basil Rathbone as Sherlock Holmes.
Marco restrained a sigh. “You mentioned the clothes at the clinic in the micro lab. I remember throwing them into the garbage. You found them somehow, and decided to look for the deleted security footage of what happened.”
“Not to mention you did a number on the stool in the lab,” the doctor told him. “You smacked the guy so hard, I could see marks in the wood.”
“Sorry. Life and death situation and all that. So, the beaten up stool led you to the clothing, which led you to the security footage, which led you to the vampire I disposed of. I'm assuming that my dusting the intruder opened your mind up to the possibility of vampires, right?”
“Correct. When you calculate the rate of speed that the virus consumed material in the blood plates, that would mean anyone infected with it would have to be transfused, or they might even ingest blood directly. The human body couldn't take it otherwise. Which leads into all of the gang violence and other nocturnal activities of the average criminal lately.”
“But Amanda?” Marco asked his father. He leaned against the kitchen counter while the doctor scrubbed. “There are hints at her being a vampire, but proof?”
“That was, I admit, more of a supposition.” He flicked his hands into the sink, and reached for a towel. “Amanda never showed up in daylight, and when she came in, she always smelled faintly of suntan lotion, even in fall and winter. She was pale, bloodless, and you two don't talk dating, so there had to be a good reason for it. Not to mention, your hours are getting later and later. When vampire is an option, my conclusion isn't too much of a stretch.”
Marco nodded, but stayed silent.
Robert looked at Marco now. “Since you're still breathing, I'm assuming she hasn't been snacking on you, and since I'm still breathing, I assume that she's not in the running for the Bram Stoker award for evil. So, what am I missing about vampires?”
“Do you remember RPGs?”
“Rocket Propelled Grenades, or Role-Playing Games?”
“The latter.”
“I remember some of them,” Doctor Catalano said, “back when you played. Why?”
“Let's just say that alignment truly does affect powers and vulnerabilities. Everything we know about Dracula is true, but only for those who share Dracula's alignment. There is no Buffy the Vampire Slayer automatic evil.”
Robert Catalano smiled wryly. “I'll be sure to keep up with my garlic tablets and keep my rosary on me at all times.”
“That would be a good start. Mostly the rosary.”
“Good to know.” He put the towel off to the side, and studied Marco a moment. “You do realize that going up against the forces of darkness with a street gang you organized may not be enough, don't you?”
“What makes you think I'm organizing the street gangs?”
“You're a little transparent, Marco. I don't remember the last time you had a problem that you thought that you couldn't handle yourself. After all, you do like claiming to be the feudal lord of Brooklyn.”
“Yeah, well, people want to come and screw with my neighborhood, they had best come prepared for a smack down.”
“So, what are you going to do? I hope it's more than just reorganizing your pet gang lords.”
“I'm going to pay a visit to the church tomorrow,” he said. “I figure that if anyone's going to notice something strange in the long-term, it would be Rome.”
Robert nodded. “I've heard dumber ideas. Just for curiosity’s sake, have you asked Amanda about the history of vampires?”
“Not specifically…do you have something in particular you want to know? I mean, I don’t know for sure how old she is, but I am pretty sure she didn’t invent vampires. Who knows how much she has actually studied vampiric history.”
“Well, start with the Enlightenment.”
Marco arched a brow, remembering that he had made much the same argument. “What's your reason?”
“Because if I were a vampire, I would be happy to pop out of my coffin at a time when people started to drop God, and pick up the symbol of Lucifer as a symbol of 'change' and 'bringing the light.' Not to mention, a belief in vampires spiked during the same time period. Now that I know that vampires exist, the belief in vampires might have been encouraged by the actual appearance of vampires.”
Marco nodded. “That was pretty much my reasoning. Heck, meeting a vampire helped my belief in them.”
“Well, that, and Vlad Dracul was around during the Renaissance, so the Enlightenment just makes sense.”
Marco winced. “Well, that can't be good. I wonder what impact that would have had elsewhere.”
“There was always the French revolution.” Doctor Catalano smiled, and nodded. “I'm back to bed. Be sure to get Officer Tolbert up in the morning if I can't.”
* * * *
January 6th
The Church of St. Anthony - St. Alphonsus was a Catholic church in the midst of Greenpoint. Built in the 1850s, it looked like it could be the pinnacle of construction back then. It had a tall, 240-foot spire as black as iron that shot straight up to the sky, with a red brick face trimmed in white limestone. The inside was cavernous and Gothic, like the architect attempted to construct a small St. Patrick's Cathedral in a space not half as large.
The priest of this particular church was a slightly pudgy, older black man. His hair had not yet started to gray, but he was already mildly wrinkled. He had thick plastic frames for his glasses, though the lenses weren't that thick.
“Bill Rodgers,” Marco began, “meet Amanda Colt.”
“Ah!” the priest exclaimed, his voice practically booming throughout the small church, “you finally got a girlfriend you could bring around to meet me, eh?” He looked towards Amanda, and shook her hand with both of his. “How are you? Bill Rodgers. Pastor of this fine parish.”
Amanda smiled. “Charmed, but I am not his girlfriend.”
He looked back to Marco. “Why not?”
“We're just friends.”
“Ack. Not that again.” With a boyish grin, Rodgers backed away and waved them in. “So, Marco, what brings you down here with your 'just friend'?”
“We're interested in vampires,” Marco said without any hesitation. His smile was stuck on entertained.
Rodgers stopped, turned, and blinked. “Really? Why? What in particular do you want with me?”
“Da, really,” Amanda answered.
“Because it's come up lately,” Marco added.
“We want the church's official position on them,” she concluded.
Rodgers looked from one to the other and shrugged. “They're a nasty bedtime story. Something to scare little children with. They're not real, and never have been, and never will be. Does that satisfy you?”
“No,” Marco told him directly. “Because things have been happening lately that concern us.”
“Deeply,” Amanda added.
Rodgers sat back, against the arm of a pew, and crossed his arms, resigning himself to suffering through this discussion. “Such as?”
Marco leaned against a pew of his own. “Packs of vampires roaming the city, draining people on a synchronized schedule, starting with the usual dregs, ending with cops. Things like that.”
Rodgers nodded, and looked back and forth between the two of them. “So, what do you expect me to say about it?”
“Let's say that we want the church's unofficial position on vampires. How does that sound to you?”
Rodgers gave them a loud, booming laugh. “It sounds utterly ridiculous!”
The priest stared at them both for a long moment, and Marco had the sense that it was going to be the stare just before a lecture about how stupid belief in vampires really was. If this was a bust, the next stop was Amanda's parish, to see if that local pastor would be more knowledgeable. Then they would have to start blindly seeking out other priests, maki
ng them a handsome couple of abject nutcases who asked random priests about the existence of vampires.
That would essentially be the point where the two of them would be completely screwed, unless Amanda wanted to flash her fangs at the priests they were asking, and encourage them to kick the question up the chain of command.
But the reason for coming here was simple: bodies were dropping in Brooklyn. Attacks were happening in Greenpoint. The local priest was the first person Marco could think of.
The priest's look softened, and he said, “I really wish you hadn't decided to do this, Marco.”
The younger man blinked, and a sudden thrill of worry shot through him. He straightened, and slid his back foot behind him, sliding into a fighting stance, even if his hands were up against his chest instead of covering his face. Even Amanda straightened next to him.
“Do what, exactly?” Marco asked, his eyes flicking around the church to see if there might be any place to hide from Amanda's senses.
“Ask questions,” Rodgers told him. “Branch out. Because, now, we have to do something about you.”
Amanda and Marco exchanged a look. She was the one who asked, “Who is this 'we' you speak of?”
From the darkened corner of the church came sudden motion. Thermal-lined camouflage sheets fell to the floor, revealing the men and weapons behind them. There were crossbows, and assault weapons, shotguns, and a flamethrower.
“And there is a man with a sniper rifle in the choir loft above you,” Rodgers explained. “Just in case you get any ideas.”
Marco frowned. “I'm starting to think that we shouldn't have called ahead.”
Chapter Fourteen: The Attack of the Vatican Ninjas
Marco considered his options as he looked around the Catholic Church of St. Anthony – St. Alphonsus. He took in the weapons arrayed against them, and he didn't like the odds. The crossbows he didn't mind, or the shotgun. However, the assault weapons were most likely the biggest concern.
The flamethrower looked particularly menacing.
Marco spared Amanda a glance as he tried to track all of them at once. “I count eight in front of us. You?”
“I cannot tell. At least ten. I cannot sense more.”
“Anti-vampire squad,” Marco concluded. “Their camouflage was so good, you couldn't even see it.”
Amanda nodded slightly, wondering exactly how this would go. If these Vatican ninjas wanted everyone on their side to get out of there alive, then they would have shot Marco and Amanda before they revealed themselves. But no one made a motion beyond dropping the camouflage. In fact, had their intent been to kill the vampire and her friend, a shot with a .50-caliber sniper rifle would have taken her head off, and Marco would have been close behind.
Which means what?
Marco didn't even look in Rodgers' direction when he said, “So, what are you and your Vatican ninjas going to do with us?”
Father Rodgers was quite somber. “That completely depends on you, young man.”
Amanda shook her head, and let out a faint growl. “Oh, enough. We are impressed. Either this show of force is for intimidation or for recruitment. Marco is not much of a joiner, and I am not intimidated.”
Marco chuckled. “You think I am? Really? How many vampires have I killed?”
“Okay. Okay.”
“Also, if this were a recruitment drive, that means they have an idea of how experienced we are already.”
She shook her head. “I do not believe they have an accurate picture of how much experience we have.”
“Neither do I.”
Things happened so fast, no one could really track it, but the Vatican ninjas came close.
Amanda and Marco darted in two different directions at the same time, almost as if they had rehearsed it in advance.
Amanda went for the priest, grabbing Rodgers and hurling him by the shoulders, sending him at the ninja with the flamethrower like a handball. The man saw him coming, and turned off the flame, bracing for impact as the priest slammed into him. The vampire didn't even stop moving after she hurled the priest, but was in motion a split second after he had left her hands. She went for the ninja on her left, darting for him, and leaping over his line of fire, coming down on him from above like a lion on prey in the Serengeti.
Marco darted to the back of the church, moving faster than either of the ninjas behind him could have expected, still affected by Amanda's bite on the train the night before. The ninja off to the right side of the church tried to lead Marco as a target, but the young man dove for the floor, going straight into a roll, underneath his line of sight. When he came to a stop, he sprang up, launching two palms into the chins of both ninjas at the back door of the church. He sprinted past them, heading right for the stairs.
Amanda sprang off of the ninja in the left of the church, then shot up the left aisle, heading straight for the altar. She dipped down into a pew as several arrows shot in her direction. Springing up, she darted around a pillar, then leapt onto the altar, sweeping the legs out from underneath one commando and driving her forearm into another shooter. She hurled that one into a third gunman, then dove into a roll, cutting the legs out from underneath a forth gunman.
The sniper in the loft above was confused, trying to track both Amanda and Marco. By the time he had decided that Marco was the one concern he could tend to, the blond was already out of his line of sight.
The sniper then swiveled around, aiming for the stairs up into the choir loft.
The barrel swung neatly into Marco's hands.
Marco pulled back on the sniper rifle, then slammed the butt of the gun into the sniper's face. Without any preamble, Marco swung the rifle back around so that it faced the Vatican ninjas.
“So, do we pass?” Marco's voice rang out as he drew a bead on the backpack for the flamethrower. “Or does this have to get messy?”
Rodgers rose from the altar, and dusted himself off. “Well, Marco, I think we should talk, don't you?”
“I think I'm good from up here,” Marco shouted back.
Amanda placed a hand on Marco's shoulder. He hadn't even seen her move from the altar. “Marco, we can go down now.”
Marco's face showed a definite strain. There was more effort to restrain himself than Amanda had seen in all the time she had known him. She could even feel his muscles tensing.
“Put it down, Marco,” she said calmly. “Killing in church is not a good way to start any conversation.”
The hand on the rifle's grip opened, as though the gun had become red hot, and he swung the rifle off to the side. “Okay. Let's go down and iron out some details.”
* * * *
Father Rodgers poured out the tea into the cups on the counter, his back to Marco and Amanda as they sat at the kitchen table in the small rectory off of Rodgers' church.
The kitchen was small, barely big enough for the three of them, so the rest of the “Vatican ninjas” were stationed outside, in the hall.
“Lucky for you, this parish is understaffed,” Marco said.
“Nothing lucky about it,” Rodgers answered. “When Rome caught on to the ever-growing string of murders, everyone else was transferred out, and the soldiers moved in.” He grabbed two of the mugs, then took them over to the table. “Don't you remember the massive transfer right before Christmas?”
“I wondered where they had all gone.” He leaned back in the chair. “So, Vatican ninjas in the hall, I expect that they aren't news?”
Rodgers shook his head as he took a seat across from Marco and Amanda. “Not at all. The organization is a few hundred years old. A subdivision of the Swiss Guards…mostly because Rome needed to secure itself before it could do anything about the rest of the world.”
Marco nodded with a bit of a grunt.
Amanda said, “So, what would you like to tell us?”
Rodgers placed the mug on the table, a slight tremor making the cup shake. “Where would you like me to start? There's a lot of material to cover.”
“In the beginning would be good,” Marco said.
“In the beginning was the Word.”
“A little more recent than that.”
“I can't do that,” Rodgers said seriously. “If you want the beginning of vampires, then we have to start there.”
Amanda leaned back in her chair and looked to Marco. “You were the one who mentioned Lilith to me back when this first started.”
Marco frowned. “The original tale being that she was the prototype for Eve, only she malfunctioned…and when something God makes goes bad, they go really bad. Lucifer is a case in point. I'm not being literal about this, I hope.”
“I doubt it. No one has been for literalism within the Catholic church since the early days. By the time of Augustine, it was considered outdated theology. And I don't think anyone believes that Adam and Eve were literal people.”
“But,” Amanda interjected, “what if the tale of Lilith was a way to account for vampires?”
Marco cut in. “In which case, considering how old the story is, that's not good news for us.”
Rodgers quoted, “'And in the days before Noah, giants walked the Earth'…if you remember. They also survived the flood. So, you can expect that they would be most resilient.”
Marco held up a hand. “Okay, stop. You're now throwing out random quotes from Genesis. Those giants who walked the earth were the ‘Nephilim.' Again, giants. If we're not taking things literally, connecting the Nephilim to vampires is a little much, isn't it?”
Amanda shrugged. “Not if they were my ancestors.”
Rodgers nodded. “There are more than enough lines in the Bible that imply a distinction between them and human beings.”
Marco groaned, then put his head against the table, rapping his forehead against the surface a few times. “So, now I'm going to be fighting creatures out of Bible mythology. Okay, fine, these guys want to come to my neighborhood, screw with my people, I'm going to show them that Brooklyn is the last place on Earth they want to try to invade. So, are your Vatican ninjas on loan or something?”
“That’s not really how it works.”