To Catch a Vampire

by Jennifer Harlow

  “Stop this, please just stop this,” I whisper. “Just let me go. We’ll leave tonight. You’ll never see him again. Please.”

  “Never.”

  He’s enjoying this too much. He’s going to kill my friend, and he’s smiling about it. Fear fades, replaced with something a lot more powerful. Hatred. I absolutely hate this man. He has strangled, kidnapped, and threatened me. He wants to torture my friend. No. No way in hell.

  I peer up at him, eyes as hard as my heart. “Then you had better kill me,” I growl in a low voice. “Do you hear me, you pathetic piece of shit? Because I swear to you, the moment you lay one finger on him, your life is forfeit. I will rip your black heart out with my bare hands as you scream for mercy, and I’ll be laughing the entire time. I promise it. Ask Gerry and JR if I keep my promises.”

  His mouth sets into a straight line. “You do not frighten me, little girl.”

  “Then you’re even stupider than you look.”

  The ringing of the telephone on the desk breaks the ice cold eye contact. Anton picks it up, listens, then hangs up. “That was Judd. They have arrived.”

  “They?” Freddy asks.

  “He brought a werewolf,” Anton replies. “They were frisked. No weapons or communication devices.”

  “Who is the wolf, Agent Alexander?”

  “Another member of the F.R.E.A.K.S.”

  “What are they to each other?”

  “Rivals. Oliver wouldn’t give a damn if you hurt Will, and vice versa. I’m sure he’s just here to make sure I get out safe.”

  Freddy studies my face. “You are telling the truth. They may come up.”

  In an instant, Freddy disappears from in front of me only to reappear behind me. He holds one of the knives to my neck, yanking my head back by the hair at the same time. Ow. I wince in pain. The blade presses into my neck, about to draw blood. He pulls tighter on my hair when there’s a knock on the door. “Enter.”

  The vamp from the hospital walks in first carrying a shotgun, followed by Oliver, Will, and two hulking vamps with more shotguns trained on my friends. They have their hands up, both expressionless. Me, I’m trying not to hyperventilate. Will’s eyes dart to mine, and for a fleeting moment fear fills his face, but he recovers. Oliver keeps his gaze trained on Freddy. “So glad you could make it,” Freddy says. “We were beginning to worry.”

  “Has he harmed you?” Oliver asks, not taking his eyes off my captor.

  “No,” I pant. The knife digs deeper into my neck but doesn’t draw blood.

  “Good. Then my associate here shall promise this goes no further than tonight. There will be no recriminations if he and Agent Alexander leave this establishment unharmed.”

  “Really?” Freddy asks.

  “I swear it by the authority bestowed upon me by the President of the United States as a sworn Federal Agent,” Will says. “If she and I leave without incident, there will be no charges filed. Nothing will happen to you. I have a written statement to that effect in my back pocket.”

  “And what about you, Oliver? Does this pact extend to you?”

  “I would not be so foolish as to include that as part of the terms.”

  Freddy presses the knife deeper, this time cutting me. I wince. “Or I could just let my subjects blow away your wolf, then force you to bleed your friend before I turn her. Your last dying thought would be of all the despicable things I will force her to do.”

  “You need to shut up, right now,” Will snarls. Will takes a step, body trembling with rage, but Oliver stops him.

  “No,” Oliver says through gritted teeth.

  Freddy is silent for a few seconds. He yanks my head back so I can see his grinning face. “Oh! I believe I understand now,” Freddy says. “You have not fallen prey to our Oliver’s charms as your heart and body belong to another.” Okay, he can slit my throat now. Better that than to die of embarrassment. Freddy looks back at Will. “Then I am doing you a favor tonight, friend. Our Oliver has a penchant for taking things that belong to others. You should thank me.”

  “Just let her go,” Will says.

  Freddy glances at Oliver, then down at me. He leans down, kissing my forehead. “Remember, fair Beatrice, I am a man of my word. Go to your Dante. Satan is releasing you from his clutches.” He removes the knife from my neck to cut the ropes. I jump up, rubbing my raw wrists. I fight the urge to leap into Will’s arms, instead walking calmly over to them. I raise my hands in surrender as I join them. Neither man looks at me, and they keep their faces blank. Okay, they have something planned. The rest of the team is downstairs waiting to raid this place. Will’s already figured out a way to get the guns away. That has to be it.

  But neither Will nor Oliver move.

  “Get the written authorization,” Anton says, all business per usual.

  One of the vamps reaches into Will’s back pocket. Freddy is all smiles again. “There now. All civilized. Shawn, Robert, please escort the agents to the holding cells downstairs. I will release you both alive as promised after I am finished with your comrade. Just insurance, I assure you. If Oliver here attempts to escape or fight back, I will have no choice but to harm you. I believe that is fair.”

  “I will not attempt escape,” Oliver says.

  “We shall see. Robert?”

  The vamp with his hair in a ponytail points his gun at me, and the henchman behind Will pokes him to get us walking. “Wait!” I say.

  I sidestep the men. They can shoot me for all I care. I need to do this. I wrap my arms around Oliver, squeezing as hard as I can. I close my eyes, breathing in his scent, savoring the moment. No smoke or musk, only rich cologne. Just as good, though. The tears I’d managed to suppress all this time trickle out of my closed eyes. He doesn’t hesitate. He clutches onto me as tight as I do him. “You don’t have to do this,” I whisper.

  “Yes, I do,” he whispers back. He releases me first, but I can’t let go. This is it. We’ll never touch, we’ll never laugh together again. I can’t let him go. He held me when I cried. He made me feel beautiful. He accepted me for who I am. He’s my friend. He came for me. “Trixie …” His hands wrap around my wrists pulling me out of the embrace. A small smile crosses his handsome face. The most stunningly perfect face I ever have or will ever see. With his thumb he wipes a tear off my cheek. “I shall be fine. Go rescue Will.”

  Shawn yanks my arm, pulling me away from Oliver. “I’m sorry,” I cry out as the goon drags me out.

  “Goodbye, beloved.”

  The door slams shut.

  _____

  I push the cage, the cage pushes back. All the pressure I focus on the door with my mind boomerangs back, and once again I’m flung to the back wall with the force of a car crash. My butt lands first, no doubt adding to my bruise collection. No swimsuits for me anytime soon.

  “Crap!” I cry out. “Crap, crap, crap!”

  “Will you please stop doing that?” Will asks in the jail cell next to me. “It’s protected by magic. You’re just going to keep hurting yourself.”

  The goons forced us into the basement, which can only be described as dungeon chic. There’s a heavy lead door, three old-school cells with huge key holes, and sliding doors. I think this place was built in the Wild West days, though I doubt Wyatt Earp ever chained people to the back wall with silver shackles. The bondage theme spread down here too. I guess I should be grateful they didn’t chain us up. I’ve been bound enough today, thank you very much.

  “Can’t you try again?” I ask as I pick myself up a third time.

  Will just holds up his burnt hands in reply.

  Not only are the cells guarded by an anti-magic spell, but they’re also made of silver. Poor Will found out the hard way. And the bars are super strong. He tried with his hands covered with his shirt material, and the cell door didn’t budge.

  “This sucks!” I scream. “There has to be something we can do!”

  “We wait. It’s all we can do.”

  I start pacing again. �
�I don’t believe that.”

  “He’ll let us go in the morning. He has to, otherwise we can legally kill him.”

  “And Oliver?” I ask, looking him square in the eyes.

  “He knew what he was doing,” Will says emotionless.

  I scoff. “And you’re just, what? Okay with what’s going on upstairs?” I ask angrily.

  “Of course not,” Will says, matching my tone. “No one deserves that. But we had no choice!”

  “So, this was your plan? Show up with a piece of paper, hand over your teammate to a psychopath, and just walk away? ’Cause, great plan! We’re locked down here! And he’s upstairs where …” I can’t think it, let alone say it. “That was your great plan?”

  “Bea, it’s not like we had a whole lot of time to pull together some great assault. You were missing! You vanished from the hospital. Carl couldn’t find you; Oliver said you weren’t at the hotel. We weren’t exactly thinking clearly! Not after everything today. He knew, we knew, what had to be done—and we’re doing it.”

  “Sitting on our butts while he’s being tortured to death? Yeah, we’re doing our jobs,” I say, choking back tears. I plop down on the cold stone floor in a pile, cupping my face in my hands. I will not cry. I won’t. He needs me strong to save him. Strong people don’t cry. They keep their heads and figure out how to fix things. I breathe heavily to stop the waterworks. It helps, but not enough.

  “Bea?” Will asks softly. I gaze up at him in the next cell, barely registering that he’s calling me by my first name, which is rare. He leans down to my level, careful to avoid the silver bars. “I wish there was something I could say or do.”

  I look away and shake my head. There has to be something, anything I can do. Think logically. Magic and strength don’t work. So what does that leave? What …

  Occam’s razor. I’m a genius. The easiest, simplest answer is usually the right one. So how do normal people break out of a locked room? “They pick the lock,” I say to myself.

  “What?” Will asks.

  All hopelessness fades with those words. I jump up, the first genuine smile of the day crossing my face. “You can pick a lock, right? I saw you do it in Cleveland when Nancy wasn’t there.”

  “Yeah, but I don’t have any tools.” He stands up, walking over to the lock on his cell. “I’d need metal, at least two pieces. I have nothing on—”

  He stops talking after glancing at me.

  I reach into my shirt after unclasping my bra. I take off the straps, pulling my bra out of the armhole. Guys are always amazed when they see women do this, and Will isn’t immune. My white bra is speckled with brown spots of dried blood. I’d have thrown it out anyway. “The underwire should work, right?”

  Even in life and death situations, men are still men. His eyes lock on my free breasts under the sweatshirt for a moment before he snaps out of it. “Um, yeah,” he says, getting the bra from me. Breaking the underwire in half, he rips the metal out. I watch, transfixed, as he bends the first half lengthwise and gets to work on the lock, careful not to touch the silver bars with his skin. It takes a few minutes and multiple swear words until we hear that blessed “click.” We both smile cheek to cheek as he kicks the door open and walks over to my cell. I bend down right with him as he fiddles with my lock. “You’re a genius,” he says, still smiling.

  “I just watch a lot of movies,” I say with a matching grin. I reach through the bars, touching his moving wrist. He stops. “I’m sorry I yelled at you. I do appreciate you coming to my rescue. You didn’t have to.”

  “Of course I did,” he says, meeting my eyes.

  Not now, hormones, friend dying upstairs. I pull my hand away. “Then get on with it.”

  One minute later, I’m free. Next phase, get out through the metal door. Easy. Look ma, no hands. With all my power, I push the door. It tumbles down like a domino, landing with a huge clank. The two guards standing on either side of it are momentarily dumbfounded. Perfect. Will cold-cocks the one to the left, breaking his nose. He’s down and out with one punch. At the same time, I twist the second’s head around. He falls next to his buddy. “That was easy,” I say as my victim twitches on the ground.

  Will removes the vamp’s gun from the holster, handing it to me. He takes the shotgun. “Come on.”

  We run up the stairs but wait at the top as Will listens for people on the other side. A moment later, he opens the door. The S&M club is empty and fully lit. With lights on, it’s still as seedy as before. The space is empty. I guess everyone—

  A blood curdling scream echoes above. The pain I feel with each moment of noise must be just a hint of the agony Oliver is experiencing. My God, what are they doing to him? Whatever it is, they sure as hell won’t be doing it much longer. I step toward the stairs, but Will grabs my arm.

  “What the hell are you doing?” I ask, jerking my arm back.

  He doesn’t let go. “No. We’re leaving.”

  “What? No!” This time I get my arm back. “I am not—”

  “Listen to me!” he hisses in a high whisper. “I counted ten vamps on my way in. We barely survived today when we were evenly matched. The only thing you going up there would do is get the both of you killed! I am not losing you too. Especially not today. Not ever.”

  If I wasn’t so damn scared and angry, those words would put me on cloud nine. Oliver’s wail of anguish snaps any joy out of me. “I. Am. Not. Leaving. Him.” I take another step toward the stairs, but he seizes my arm again.

  “No! Goddamn it, Bea! I promised I’d get you out of here safely, no matter what. It’s what he wanted. He sacrificed himself for you. Don’t let it be in vain. Please. You can’t win this one.”

  For a moment, for a gut-wrenching moment, I want to run away. I really do. I want to turn around and just go. As fast as I can. I want to go with Will and have him drive me as far from this place as possible. I want to go home and forget the last few days. Forget Oliver and Irie, just let them fade from memory. Climb into bed and watch TV. Sleep. And I almost do. I almost can.

  Until I see his face as clear as if he was right in front of me.

  I see him as I did last night: pale, languid, bleeding. Dying. No more teasing. No more grins. No more flirting. No more hugs and chess games, and knowing in my soul that there will always be someone who will fight, steal, or kill for me. No matter what.

  That scares me a hell of a lot more than anything up there.

  This time I yank my arm away with enough force to almost dislocate it. The fury coursing through my cells locks my body, my eyes, my jaw into such a pose of hatred and resolve that I’d frighten any creature on this planet. I meet Will’s eyes and for the first time they’re filled with fear. Of me.

  “Always underestimating me.”

  I run to the stairs, then up them as Oliver cries out again. I don’t even bother with the door handle. With one look, the door explodes. I’m through it before the shards hit the floor. I count eleven vamps: some standing, others sitting all around the room, shielding their faces from the blast. Oliver hangs on his belly in the silver cage about six feet off the ground. His face is nothing but bloody pulp. The front of his hair is missing. Scalped. Blood spews out into buckets at his head, chest, and stomach. Freddy stands next to him near a machine that resembles a crank. It takes a moment for my brain to register that the rope wrapped around it and connected to Oliver’s torso is his intestine. Shock takes over, pushing away all the horror I should feel. Wrath replaces it.

  The vamps remain confused just long enough for me to shoot the nearest one right between the eyes as both my feet make it inside the study. She falls just as I swing my arm the opposite way, pulling the trigger and hitting the African American vamp to my right through the heart. Annie Oakley, eat your heart out.

  The rest finally get their wits about them and start moving toward me. Anton, Freddy, and two others move to the back of the room to let the others fight. I open fire at anything that moves. One, two, three, four gunshots in quick
succession. Another vamp goes down. I somersault to the right just as they’re about to pounce. I fire twice more. Blood spurts out of the bartender’s chest. He’s down. And I’m out of ammo.

  The woman in leather, Greta, lunges, but I hold up my leg so she lands on it. I grab her arms and roll her behind me into the wall, just like I practiced with Will a dozen times. One of the cowards in the corner leaps over Freddy’s desk to join the fight as Greta touches the ground. Just as he lands, a loud now familiar boom vibrates though the room. The vamp’s head disintegrates. Will stands in the door like an action hero, expelling the cartridge and taking aim again. Greta disappears from the floor then materializes in front of him. He fires just as she vanishes again. A huge chunk of desk blows off. He can handle her. I have my own problems.

  Two vamps, both in leather pants and T-shirts, grab my arms and pull me off the floor just as Greta appears behind Will, biting down on his shoulder. He cries out, but butts her head with the gun. I’m on my own here. I kick the Latino one to my right in the knee, but it does nothing. One takes my bucking legs and the other my shoulders. I squirm and twist, but they don’t let go. Will aims and fires at Greta, missing again. He cocks the gun, but it’s empty. We’re weaponless and outnumbered. This should scare me but doesn’t. I wiggle my foot free and kick the vamp at my legs in the jaw. The force sends me and the vamp at my shoulders down to the ground. This moment of freedom is all I need.

  My head whips to the right. The swords from last night glide from their stand, one to my awaiting hand and the other toward Will. He drops the shotgun as the sword reaches him. Mine lands in my hand just as Legs recovers. I smash my head back with all my force onto the nose of the vamp underneath me. His nose cracks, and he releases me. I swing my now free arm toward the other one, slicing down. His head separates at a diagonal, blood spurting like a fountain for an instant. I don’t even spare a thought for how gross it is. The second vamp clutches me again, but I elbow him in the ribs hard. This frees me and I roll off him, stabbing him in the side for good measure.