Science and Sorcery

by Christopher Nuttall

  As darkness fell over New York, the streets rapidly began to empty. Matt found it more than a little eerie; normally, New York never actually bothered to sleep. There were bars that remained open all night, discos where night owls could dance from dusk till dawn, brothels that accepted customers at all hours of the day...now, however, they would have to close. Businesses that remained open until late had been reporting increased absenteeism among their workforce, simply because people were scared of vampires. It seemed impossible that one vampire could cause so much panic.

  “Good luck,” Daniels said. New York’s SWAT team had been armed with stakes and holy water, as well as each man eating garlic before going out on deployment, but so far they hadn't even managed to get a sniff of the vampire. Judging from what Golem had said, the vampire was more likely to get a sniff of them and avoid them like the plague. “Try not to get turned, like those idiots in Central Park.”

  Matt rolled his eyes. The idiots who had produced movies with sexy vampires had a lot to answer for, at least in his opinion. Hundreds of idiots who thought that they wanted to become creatures of the night had flocked to New York, taking up position in Central Park to offer themselves to the vampire. The fact that the first known victim had died and then not come back to life hadn’t dissuaded them. Eventually, the NYPD had been forced to take them into custody for their own safety. They hadn't gone quietly.

  The city seemed to be quieting as the darkness grew stronger, as if it were holding its breath. Matt reached into his coat and checked the stakes he’d been given, along with body armour, a gun carrying silver bullets and holy water. Golem had been surprised by the existence of modern body armour, something that had puzzled Matt until he’d realised that his time had had magic capable of burning through any armour. Maybe it would surprise the vampire too.

  Maybe I should have brought the SEALs, he thought, as he began to walk through the streets. With so few potential victims around – even the homeless had been moved into shelters, after some argument – the vampire was likely to home in on him. But it all depended on just what kind of vampire they were dealing with. Some of them according to Golem, could go for an entire week without having to feed. And they had other tricks up their sleeves, just waiting for unwary victims.

  Feeling his heartbeat pounding in his chest, Matt kept walking.

  ***

  Layla crouched on a rooftop, staring down at the deserted streets below. She’d fed too openly, part of her mind realised, and now her prey were hiding from her. The rest of her mind simply didn't care. What did it matter if the sheep knew that there was a wolf hunting them? They would still become lunch for the prowling wolf. But she couldn't go out in the daytime and apparently vampires did need to be invited into a person’s home. She'd tried to break into a house, only to discover that she couldn't even break the lock.

  The hunger gnawed at her rationality as she stood up and leapt for the next rooftop, and the next, dancing from building to building in a manner Batman might have envied. It would have terrified her once – she had barely been able to swim – but now it felt natural and right. She sniffed the air, hunting for a possible target, only to find nothing that wasn’t protected by ancient law. Maybe she could convince someone to invite her into their home...no, that wouldn't work. She’d watched TV while hiding from the daylight and the Mayor had been insistent that no one, whatever happened, should invite anyone into their homes without making them eat a piece of garlic first. The very thought repelled her, even though she couldn't understand why. How could garlic be genuinely dangerous to a vampire?

  Central Park loomed up in the distance, only to rapidly prove deserted of anything human. Layla dropped to the ground, wondering if she should try catching a stray dog or cat, even though the very thought repelled her. But the longer she went without feeding, the more her mind would fade away into the bloodlust. She needed to catch a human and feed on him. And then she caught the scent. A single man, walking the streets, completely on his own. Turning, Layla started to run, before jumping back onto the buildings and heading towards her prey. He would never expect an attack from above.

  ***

  Matt sensed...something and jumped backwards, just as a streak of blackness tore through where his head had been. The figure was dressed completely in black, part of his mind noted, and was smaller than he had expected. A moment later, the cowl dropped and he realised that he was staring at a teenage girl. But her mouth was wide open, revealing sharp white fangs, and her body was strange, almost as if it was badly proportioned. He couldn't even begin to guess how old she was.

  The girl moved forward with blinding speed, her hands becoming claws as they slashed out at Matt’s throat. Sheer terror forced him to raise his hands to block her, but he felt the blow even though the body armour. The girl looked too thin to be very strong, yet she’d hit him hard enough that she would have broken his arm, if he hadn't been wearing the armour. A moment later, he had the stake in one hand and thrust it out at her. She moved backwards like a streak of lightning and avoided him with ease. Matt expected her to run – at the speed she moved, she could be halfway out of the city before he even started after her – but instead she circled him, hissing very faintly. Her eyes seemed to dance with unholy light, almost hypnotically...

  Matt tore his eyes away with an effort and raised the stake again. A second later and she would have torn off his head, armour or no armour. Instead, she darted backwards, her face twisted with an inhuman fury, and continued to circle him. There was no trace of anything rational in her expression, nothing that suggested that she could think or speak. Golem had warned him that vampires could become overwhelmed with bloodlust, to the point where they forgot everything else; the old Hunters had known to use it against them. But that required training that Matt didn't have.

  The vampire stopped circling Matt and waited, as if she wanted to see what he would do next. Matt braced himself, keeping the stake firmly in one hand, and produced the gourd of holy water with the other. A little ingenuity had allowed him to turn it into a makeshift water pistol, one that fired more water than a kid’s toy. The vampire watched him warily as Matt braced himself, and then bit his lip so hard that he drew blood. There was a terrifying snarl from the vampire as she lunged forward as blinding speed, consumed by the bloodlust, and ran right into the stream of holy water. She screeched in pain – the sound tore at Matt’s ears and echoed over the city – and stumbled backwards, rubbing her face as if it had been struck by acid. Matt clutched the stake and stepped forward, only to have her slam a fist into his chest and throw him right back across the street. He felt, just for a moment, as if she’d caved in his ribs. The body armour was designed to protect the wearer against bullets – the military had improved it after countless tiny struggles in Iraq and Afghanistan – and she’d managed to harm him with her bare hands. If she hadn't been in pain herself, it would have been over there and then.

  Matt staggered to his feet, feeling vaguely sick, as if he had been concussed. There was no time to worry about it, not now. He produced a second stake from his coat and advanced forward, carefully. The vampire turned and ran right towards the nearest building, scrambling up it like a demented version of Spiderman. Matt acted on instinct, drew his gun and shot her with an explosive bullet. It detonated inside her ribs and sent her falling back down to the ground. Golem had warned that vampires had remarkable regeneration powers, just as capable as werewolves in many ways, but even a vampire would need time to recover from the shot. Besides, maddened as she was, she would want to kill him before she made her escape.

  The vampire rolled over and came at him, only to impale herself on the stake Matt held out. She screeched again and staggered backwards, falling onto the ground. Matt almost fell on top of her in his eagerness to drive the stake in, but somehow she refused to explode into dust and ashes. Not one of those vampires, he noted absently. Some could merely be pinned in place by a stake, rather than destroyed instantly. The damage to her body, he re
alised, had already healed, leaving only torn clothing to prove that it had ever happened. Up close, her body was unnaturally pale and thin in places, too thin to be natural. And she seemed to have no scent at all.

  He keyed his radio, calling for backup. Taking the vampire alive had been considered a possibility, although Golem had doubted that it was practical. Besides, vampires that lost control of themselves had to be destroyed in his time, unless they happened to run the country. Matt allowed himself a moment of justified pride as the prisoner transport vehicle rumbled around the corner and parked beside their position. A moment later, the doors opened and a small team of soldiers arrived, ready to take the vampire into custody.

  She hissed at them as they attached heavy chains to her arms and legs, and then picked her up and placed her on top of a stretcher. The whole procedure had been worked out for the criminally insane, men so lost to rational thought that they would cheerfully break their own bones to escape handcuffs, but Matt had insisted that they use the strongest possible chains, just in case the vampire proved stronger than expected. Given the speed she’d recovered from having a small explosion inside her chest, something that would have killed any normal human, he had no doubt that broken wrists and hands would regenerate in seconds. She didn't need to be insane to try to break free.

  “Pretty girl,” one of the soldiers commented. “Are you sure she’s a vampire?”

  The vampire snarled at him, showing her fangs, and the soldier jumped back in alarm. “No, I just picked her up for the night,” Matt snapped, sarcastically. “The fact she’s still alive after having a stake rammed through her chest is merely an illusion.”

  Pushing his irritation aside, he watched as the vampire was placed inside the van and strapped down, just to make it harder for her to break free. The precautions looked insane, but his aching chest bore mute witness to her strength. Carefully, he felt inside her pockets, trying to recover anything that might identify her. There was nothing, apart from a single silver chain carrying an Egyptian Ankh. It puzzled him, so he put it in the evidence bag for later study.

  “Whatever happens,” he ordered, “the prisoner compartment is not to be opened until we get to the holding facility. Even if you hear me yelling at you to open the door, do not open the door. You will maintain full security alert at all times. Do you understand me?”

  “Yes, sir,” the soldier said. “Do you really want to stay inside?”

  Matt could understand his concern. The prisoner compartment was solid, as heavily armed as a tank, or the President’s personal transport, and it wasn't designed for comfort. He’d stuck a thermos of coffee inside before setting off on his mission, but there was nothing to do, but keep an eye on the vampire. Matt would have preferred to leave the vampire cooped up, yet there was no choice. Some vampires could do far more than simple hypnosis if they wanted to mess with a person’s mind.

  “Orders are orders,” he said, finally. Golem had said that Matt should have a certain immunity to mental tricks, but the vampire had almost caught him regardless. “Just get us to the holding facility as quickly as possible.”

  He climbed into the prisoner compartment and found a place to sit by the side of the vampire, looking down at her. She stared back at him with a calm defiance that seemed to have overcome her rage, as if she was prepared to wait as long as it took for a chance to escape. Matt checked the bonds, noting in passing that she didn’t seem to breath, and then sat down as the vehicle lurched into life. They’d pick up an NYPD escort until they were out of the city, and then the state police would take over. Hopefully, the convoy should pass unnoticed.

  And then maybe I can get some sleep, he thought.

  He settled back and waited, never taking his eyes off the vampire. The stake should keep her reasonably immobile, but Golem had warned him that it wouldn't last forever. No one had been able to account for why it worked at all, particularly when some vampires exploded into dust when staked. Golem’s time didn't seem to ask questions about some issues, for no apparent reason. They didn't seem to know where vampires even came from in the first place.

  Or maybe it was simple. They didn't want to know.

  Chapter Nineteen

  New York, USA

  Day 24

  “That’s the house,” Calvin muttered. It had taken five days to plan the murder – no, the sacrifice. “Are you sure we have to do this?”

  Yes, Harrow said. Her presence in his mind was growing stronger and stronger. She is ideal for our purposes.

  Calvin winced. He'd had to use the mind control spell on the school’s secretary, first to get her to hand over Sandra’s address and then to get her to forget that he’d ever asked for it. No school just gave out addresses these days, but he hadn't been able to think of a simpler way of finding out what he needed to know. Among other things, Sandra’s file had informed him that her father and mother both worked away from home on a specific night.

  He’d thought, even as he made the preparations, that he might be able to find another way, but nothing had materialised. Harrow had carefully directed him in producing a stone knife – she’d been shocked to discover what passed for craft lessons these days – and in exactly how to carry out the sacrifice. One mistake, she’d warned, could cause no end of trouble. Calvin had considered backing out and going to the authorities, even if it meant having to confess to spying on the girls, but he knew that it would mean the end of his life. Whatever deals the government was prepared to make with magicians who accidentally hurt or killed people when they discovered that they had magic for the first time, they wouldn't extend them to people who had perverted their gifts. They’d work out that he was responsible for Gavin’s actions and then hit him with the full weight of the law.

  Cold sweat trickled down his back as he walked closer. The vampire might have been caught – the media had been full of the news – but it hadn't stopped people from vanishing indoors as soon as the night began to fall. It would probably be years before New York recovered, according to Calvin’s father, and business that depended upon the evening trade were suffering massive financial losses. God alone knew what would happen in winter, when darkness fell early. New York would probably shut down completely.

  Use the glamour, Harrow instructed him. You do not want to be seen.

  “No,” Calvin said, slowly. Feeling like a spectator in his own body, he drew the glamour around him, concealing his face behind an illusion. He'd wanted to use an image that people would recognise – Colin, perhaps – but Harrow had convinced him that it would risk attracting more attention. Instead, he’d copied an instantly forgettable actor in a TV show who’d had one line and nothing more. “Here goes nothing.”

  ***

  Sandra Yeager was bored.

  She had been brought up to be an obedient daughter and, as her parents had never been very unreasonable, it had been easy for her to love and respect them, even if they could be embarrassing at times. Even her father’s careful instructions on just what she could and could not do with boys, an experience that had been agonisingly embarrassing for both of them, had been loving. They trusted her not to go too far, or to get into a position where she could no longer say no.

  But now there was a vampire in town – perhaps more than one – and her parents had specifically forbidden her to leave the house, or to invite anyone else inside. And anyone included both her best friend and her boyfriend, although he probably wouldn't remain her boyfriend for much longer. Sandra had made it clear that she wasn't going to go past second base until they’d been together for quite some time and men were impatient. It didn't help that they lied to each other regularly about just how far certain girls had allowed them to go. She paced the house, remembering their argument, and wished that she had something to do apart from homework. Her parents had never bothered to buy a television and her father had taken the laptop with him.

  Maybe she could go out, she told herself. Her parents were never back until the morning, whereupon they slept in until
lunchtime, leaving Sandra to prepare the meal. She could slip out of the house, visit a friend and then slip back again, knowing that it should be perfectly safe. The impulse to do something – anything – warred with the fear of their disappointment if they ever found out the truth. She didn't want to let them down.

  The doorbell rang. Sandra stopped pacing, surprised. Visitors were rare at this time of night, even before the world had turned crazy. Her parents rarely invited people to visit and her friends knew better than to come after nine o’clock in the evening. She had been told not to open the door, but she walked forward anyway, just to see who it was. A glance through the peephole revealed a middle-aged man who looked friendly, trustworthy and understanding. He certainly didn't look dangerous...

  She opened the door. There was a flicker of warning, a sense that something was suddenly very wrong, and then the man pointed a finger at her. All of Sandra’s strength simply drained away – she couldn't even scream – and she just stood there, helplessly. A long moment passed and then the man finally spoke.

  “Walk back into the house,” he ordered.

  Sandra felt her body turning and moving of its own accord. Raw panic rushed through her mind, only to somehow fade away into a stupefying mist that had fallen over her. She heard the door closing behind her, followed by the latch falling into place. How could she have been so stupid? She’d allowed the vampire into her home...