Death Beckons (Mortis Vampire Series, #1)

by J. C. Diem

  “How many women have you killed back there?” I asked him at one point. For all I knew he might be perfectly innocent and I was just jumping to false conclusions.

  “Thirty-two,” was his serene answer. Definitely not jumping to false conclusions then. I turned to him slowly with my upper lip wrinkled in shocked disgust. “Also twelve men and five children,” he tacked on just to add to my revulsion.

  “Why?” I had to know what would drive a person to end so many lives.

  “It’s fun. I like to hear their muffled screams as I slice them apart.” He gave me a slow, insane smile then subsided back into silence.

  I might be able to squash the ginger giant like a bug but I spent the rest of the trip with my attention on him to make sure he didn’t suddenly snap out of the spell I’d put him under.

  When the signs told me I was on the outskirts of London, I told the psycho to pull into a narrow alley. It was very late but there was still a fair amount of traffic on the main roads. The alley was currently deserted but that could change at any moment.

  “Stop here,” I ordered and the Lair of The Ginger Monster pulled smoothly to a stop. “Give me your wallet,” was my next order. I felt no guilt or compunction against robbing the human killer at all and emptied his wallet of cash when he handed it over. Stuffing the bills into my pockets, I didn’t bother to count them. I just wanted to get out of the van. If any shops were still open when I woke, I’d hunt for some more clothes.

  I could order the psycho not to kill anyone else but I doubted the hypnotism would last past dawn. Once I died for the day, I was fairly certain my hold over him would cease. There was only one way to make sure he didn’t end any more lives prematurely. Reaching over, I took hold of his unwashed ginger mop then reefed his head around sharply. The sickening crack of bones and tearing of tendons wasn’t pleasant but I felt my duty was done. The thought of munching on the freak wasn’t appetising, dead or alive so I left him there with his head on backwards, staring at the headrest. The cops would have a hard time working that one out. Once they figured out they had a serial killer on their hands, they wouldn’t shed any tears for him.

  It was back to the sewers again for me, at least for now. Maybe I’d be able to think of a better solution when I had a chance to really ponder my future. Right now I was on the run from my destiny.

  Locating a manhole to the sewers was easy enough, they were spaced out fairly regularly. Picking one, I slid inside and down the ladder. It was way smellier in this sewer than it had been in Dover. Globs and smears of excrement decorated the walls and narrow walkway beside the drains. Wads of toilet paper and worse things floated past in a steady stream, including the water logged corpse of a cat.

  Choosing a direction that seemed to be heading north, I moved deeper beneath London. I trudged for a couple of hours with dawn drawing ever closer. Finding somewhere safe, and less stinky, was a priority so I picked up my pace.

  Modern concrete and metal pipes slowly began to give way to far older, crumbling concrete and possibly clay pipes as I took a smaller than usual tunnel. I wasn’t an expert on sewer architecture but I could tell that I was in a far older section of the sewers and that it was leading downwards. Down was good so I continued on.

  I knew I was in an abandoned section of the sewers when the smells began to fade. The slime and moss dried up and it became warmer, dryer and almost cosy. Light bloomed in an intersection ahead and I was suddenly wary. Who or what could possibly be down here besides me?

  Making as little noise as possible, I crept up to the intersection and peeked around the corner. I spied two crude beds made out of flattened cardboard boxes and a couple of blankets. The light came from a fire that had been set in a metal drum. Could some hobos have found their way down here? I wondered doubtfully. The idea that any human would have the guts to travel so far into the bowels of London was ludicrous.

  “Ello, ello, ello,” a voice suddenly boomed from behind me. “What have we here?” I jumped and both feet actually left the ground for a second. Whirling, I discovered that two men had crept up behind me while I’d been trying to creep up on them. Both wore filthy, ragged clothing and hadn’t bathed in months, possibly years. They were too dirt encrusted to tell much about them apart from the fact that they were vampires. Vampire hobos. Now I’ve seen everything.

  “This here is our lair, missy,” the other guy said. His accent was so thick I could barely understand him even if it was technically English he was speaking.

  “Who do you fink you are coming into our home like this?” the first vamp demanded. They were slowly herding me toward the fire and I let them. If this was going to turn ugly, I’d rather have room to move than to be trapped in the narrow tunnel.

  “I was just looking for somewhere safe to spend the day,” I explained, trying to reason with them and knowing it was pointless. They were predators and I was the prey. Or so they thought.

  Exchanging a glance, their eyebrows went up. “Somewhere to spend the day?” the one on the left repeated in amusement.

  “So she says,” answered his buddy.

  “Listen, girly,” spat the one on the left, “we ain’t running a hotel for vampire waifs here.” His friend nodded in agreement. “Why don’t you run along back to your master before he finds you missing?” As if they had any intention of letting me go. My self-preservation senses were in full operation and screamed that I was in danger.

  I backed out of the tunnel into their lair. They followed me, fanning out to cover the only exit. The fire at my back did two things; it helped to take some of the chill out of my bones and it also threw the vampire’s shadows onto the rough stone walls.

  My heart tried to sink when I saw their silhouettes. The one on the left was scratching its head in puzzlement while its master stood with his hands by his sides. The shadow on the right giggled soundlessly into its hands while its master furtively pulled something long and sharp from behind his back. What sort of vampire carried around an instrument that could kill its own kind? A crazy one, of course.

  “I can’t go back to my master,” I said to stall them as I prepared myself for battle.

  “Ooh, did you run away? Naughty girl,” the vampire on the left giggled. As he did, the one on the right closed in.

  “No,” I responded and wiped sweatless hands on my jeans, “I killed him.” That brought me a split second of hesitation from the vampire with a stake in his hand. Then it was hurtling through the air, aimed at my chest. It thudded into my heart just like all the other projectiles that had been thrown at me lately had. It had the same effect as all the rest; none. I left it where it was.

  I didn’t have enough time to reach for my cross but I had two other weapons at my disposal. Darting forward, I grabbed the vampire who’d staked me by the face. His flesh began to sizzle and his garbled screams were muffled by my palm.

  “What are you doing to David?” the other vampire thug screamed then launched himself at me. Airborne, he was far more graceful than I’d been while trying to smack the security camera down. Pushing the other vamp away, I turned and received a punch to the face. Seeing stars, I reached out blindly and caught his hand in mine. Now it was his turn to scream. Gibbering in pain, he tried to pry his sizzling hand free. Grimly holding on, I pulled myself closer and slapped my free hand on his forehead.

  He immediately began to melt so I sprang clear. Both vampires stumbled around, flesh running down their clothes to puddle on the floor. They ran into each other, fell over then rolled around on the floor in agony. I could see it was going to take a long time for them to die this way. It must take both holy marks to make their heads implode instantly. Unwilling to listen to the screams any longer, I avoided their ooze then hunkered down beside them both. Laying my hands on them like the healing hands of a devout preacher, I ended them both one after the other.

  Now that I was alone again, I pulled the stake out of my heart and dropped it to the ground. The wood was stained a grim dark red. Wiping my hands
clean on the now empty and filthy jacket of one of the deceased, I shook my head at the mess. Trust me to stumble into the lair of a couple of crazy vampire hobos. “It’s my lair now,” I muttered and couldn’t dredge up any excitement about my new abode.

  Wishing I hadn’t left my pilfered blankets behind in Dover, I shook the dirt off the dead vamp’s blankets and tried to ignore the smell. Doubling up the cardboard provided me with a very uncomfortable mattress. It was better than lying on the bare floor but not by much.

  I’d had another long night but I wasn’t weary in the physical sense. I was more tired in mind than anything else. Lying on my side, I drew the blankets over me and realized I was homesick, not just for my bed but for my entire old life. The job I’d spent a good part of my time mentally complaining about seemed ideal to me now. Sure, I might have only had one toilet break during the day but it’d had a few perks. One of them was that I’d had a whole shop of clothes to pick and choose from at cheaper prices than my customers had to pay. I might not have been living in the lap of luxury but compared to where I was living now, my small apartment had been more than adequate to suit my needs.

  What did I have now? A pair of jeans, a jumper, t-shirt and undies. All were in dire need of a wash. My bed was pathetic. I had nothing to occupy my time. I had no friends or family. That part hasn’t actually changed. You haven’t had friends since moving to Queensland from New South Wales eight years ago. That was true. Also, my family were all dead. I’d always expected to join them in whatever afterlife there was, if there was one. I was now living my afterlife and so far I hadn’t seen any sign of my dearly departed.

  If this was going to be how I spent the rest of my unnaturally long life then I’d quickly become bored with it. Reaching beneath my jumper, I set the cross on the ground close by and made sure the journal was still intact.

  I’d slipped the page that I’d torn out of the book back into the journal during my trip across the Channel. Taking it out, I fell asleep studying the picture of my prophesized doom. The scream on my detached head was haunting.

  My life might be meaningless now but the alternative was unthinkable. What happens to vampires after they die anyway? I had absolutely no desire to find that out for myself.

  ·~·

  Chapter Twenty-Six

  I didn’t feel brave enough to go shopping when I rose the next night. Facing humans in my dishevelled state would be sure to draw unwanted attention. Cleaning up first would be a good idea. I decided to go on the hunt for fresh water so I could at least wash the dirt off my face and hands.

  Luc kept popping into my head like an annoying song you couldn’t help memorizing the words to as I searched the tunnels. I felt guilty that I’d abandoned him to the imposter. When I’d run away, had I broken the prophesy? He was supposed to kill me but if I’d changed fate, was it possible that he might be slain by the imposter now?

  Deep in the bowels of London, I tried not to think of Luc and to concentrate on investigating the latest tunnel I’d found. This one was even older than the others and was cramped enough that I had to duck or risk scalping myself on the rough rock ceiling. Hearing a noise somewhere in the distance, I stopped to listen. Rat, I decided and continued on. Once upon a time, coming across a rat in a sewer would have filled me with the utmost terror. Now I didn’t give a crap. An army of rats could try to overwhelm me and I’d flick them off like nits. Nothing in these sewers can hurt me, I had just finished thinking when I stepped out of the tunnel and directly into an ambush.

  All the stealthy noises I’d heard during my exploration suddenly made sense. It hadn’t been rats at all but creatures far more cunning and deadly. A glance backwards showed me I was completely surrounded. Sly, crafty and tricky, ten vampires blocked the intersection and my escape. These vampires were a far cry from the pair I’d dispatched last night. They were clean, well dressed and worryingly organized.

  A guy who might have been twenty when he’d been turned stepped forward. His coat was black, hung almost to the floor and looked warm. I envied him. My clothes were still slightly damp from my dip in the water. His black hair was trendily cut, if you were a fan of the eighties. He sported several piercings through his eyebrows and ears. “Who are you?” he asked in a cultured, proper English accent.

  “Nat,” I replied then corrected myself when I saw mouths open, “Natalie Pierce.” I didn’t want to go through the whole ‘you were named after an insect’ saga again.

  “She’s an Aussie,” someone muttered.

  “What? Who turned one of them into one of us?” The question was full of loathing and not aimed at anyone in particular. Frigging poms, I thought in disgust at their snobby attitudes. Bunch of bloody whingers. They’d always treated Australians like distant and embarrassing cousins they’d rather pretend didn’t exist.

  “What are you doing here, Natalie Pierce?” the once trendy and now sadly behind the times vamp asked. The murmurs quietened.

  “Um, hiding from the Court,” I hazarded. Astonished whispers spread through the group. If this wasn’t a pack of rebels then my take on vampires was all wrong. Maybe they were even a band of my supporters. I decided it would be smarter to wait for proof of that before showing my holy marks to anyone.

  “I am Ty,” the black haired vamp said with a short bow. “We have been watching you as you have explored our tunnels.” Gee, that’s not disturbing at all. More disturbing was the fact that I hadn’t known I was being stalked.

  “We want to know what happened to John and David,” a short, pixie like girl demanded. Most of the vamps were wearing black but she was dressed in a red blazer and purple jeans. Her hair had been dyed the same shade of red as her top. Clearly, she liked to stand out. Maybe she hadn’t learned the value of blending in yet. To be noticed by these creatures was not necessarily a good thing.

  “They attacked me and I defended myself.” I kept my answer as short as possible. The more I kept my mouth shut the less damage I could do.

  “You killed John and David?” a tall, wide shouldered male vamp said in clear disbelief.

  Ty silenced them all with a frown. “Come with us, please. There is someone I’d like you to meet.” Surrounded as I was, I had zero choice, no matter how polite they were acting. Cursing silently that I’d so handily fallen into their trap, I followed behind Ty as we traversed even deeper beneath London.

  After nearly an hour of making our way through low tunnels, we stepped out into a wide cavern. The top was lost above the electric lights that had been rigged up at a ten foot height around the perimeter of the circular space. Vampires, around forty of them, ceased their conversations as Ty led me to a long table in the centre of the room. It could seat twenty and had two long bench seats and one regular wooden chair. The dark wood was faded from age and the surface was scarred from rough treatment. Conversation picked up again but it was hushed and interspersed with frequent peeks in my direction.

  A man who I assumed was the leader of this tribe sat on the lone chair. His attention was directed at the book he was hunched over. Something about the book gave off ominous vibes. It was a lot bigger than the journal that was currently stuffed down my pants. It was about a foot long, six inches wide but only a centimetre deep. The pages were thick and weren’t made from conventional paper. The book was far too old for that. Even from a distance I could see that the writing was in a language that no one in this day and age would be able to read. Only I and some of the more ancient vampires would be able to decipher the words. As the page turned, I caught sight of a drawing. It was strikingly similar to the one at the beginning of the prophet’s journal. The demi-god, tall, thin and in no way resembling any creature that had walked the earth before stood next to a human, offering its wrist. Who are these people? More to the point, what do they want with me? Unease skittered down my spine.

  “Alexander?” Ty addressed his leader. When he looked up, Ty stepped forward and bowed respectfully.

  “Who do you have there, Ty?” The question
was in French. I pretended to not understand and examined him curiously. Around fifty in mortal years, Alexander was probably much, much older than that. His suit had gone out of fashion around two hundred years ago. His white shirt had lace at the collar and cuffs. No man in their right mind would wear lace these days. Silver hair was swept back from his forehead. He had few lines on his face and could have been considered handsome if meeting his eyes hadn’t been like staring into the pits of hell.

  “Her name is Natalie Pierce. We found her wandering the tunnels.” Ty spoke rapidly and seemed nervous.

  “So,” Alexander stood and approached me, “this is the intruder who so rudely dispatched John and David, our faithful watchdogs.” I kept my face bland and interested, giving away no clue that I could understand everything they were saying.

  Staring into my face, Alexander did his best to psych me into blurting out something stupid. Little did he know but I’d faced creatures far more dangerous and crazy than him. Silvius had kidnapped me and made me what I was. Vincent had stabbed me through the heart with the sword that was destined to take my head. One had killed me and the other had tried to finish the job properly. What was Alexander going to do to me? What could he do that hadn’t already been tried before? That was a question I didn’t really want an answer to.

  “Where is your maker, girl?” he asked me in lightly accented English.

  “Dead.” No one was shocked by the knowledge. “A Court guard came to Australia and killed him.” I wasn’t about to mention names, not unless I had to. “He brought me back to France and introduced me to the Court. They expected me to bow and scrape to them but that just isn’t my style. So I took off and ended up here.”

  After another lengthy stare, Alexander nodded and stepped back. “You are welcome to join our little family,” he indicated the group of vampires who had drawn closer to watch the exchange. “Stay as long as you like.”