DEVIL’S ROW

by Serafini, Matt

  The charging horses would put the guards on alert and it might not be long before they discovered these bodies. By then, she’d be lost in the city’s shuffle. This crime was so brutal that they’d be on the hunt for a large male suspect.

  Normally, Elisabeth would enjoy making them see the error of their shortsighted ways, but there was no time for a lesson in equality.

  She chose to traverse the forest from another direction. Holding her pants up with her fist, she pulled strands of nappy hair over her face and worked her most hysterical emotions to the surface in case the guards discovered her and she needed to give another performance.

  With Survivor so close, she couldn’t afford to make enemies of the city guard when all she wanted to do was kill him and find the others responsible. Drumming up a war wasn’t the way to accomplish that.

  Approaching the quiet city, she recognized something else in the air. Something worse. The same graveyard rot that had plagued her back at the mountain.

  Elisabeth chewed the inside of her lip to keep her composure. The wolf’s rage mounted and her nose tingled worse than ever. Both human and animal suddenly understood their error in leaving the vampire’s fate to chance. That thing should’ve burnt up in the morning sun on the top of that mountain. It was all but guaranteed, and Elisabeth hadn’t wished to expend the energy to finish it when daylight would do the work for her. She despised acknowledging parasites, they were so far beneath her. Somehow, though, this one had managed to get away.

  And make it to Constanta.

  ***

  “I knew we should’ve chased you down and killed you,” Timothy growled.

  The vampire sat in the corner of the room, leering.

  “Make him bleed,” Codrin hissed, “just a little.”

  Gunman had returned, keeping Brother on patrol outside. Two humans doing a vampire’s bidding. He wound back and punched Timothy in the jaw. Then he smashed him upside the head and sent another fist driving between the eyes.

  “The more he bleeds, the faster she’ll come. This is like chum to her.” Codrin’s voice was a squeal. He ran his long and brittle-looking fingers over Timothy’s bare chest, massaging his pecs with a mischievous grin.

  When Timothy winced, the vampire flashed his enforcer a weary look.

  Gunman grunted his approval and hit Timothy so hard that his tongue swam in blood. He fought the urge to spit it out, thinking that Codrin may lose complete control once it hit the air. No sense in making his death any easier for the monster.

  The vampire hovered somewhere behind him and Timothy was grateful for his broken nose. It muted the putrid stench of his permanently decaying flesh.

  “Go outside and watch for her,” Codrin hissed.

  Gunman did exactly that. When Timothy was alone with the vampire, the creature retreated once more into to the far corner so that only his yellow, unblinking eyes remained visible. They hovered in the darkness like fireflies.

  A gunshot roared across the waterfront. Another shot thundered.

  Good, Timothy thought. The city guard must be on the way. Surely, someone complained about a couple of men using a dock station as their after hours office.

  Something hit the floor with a splat. Timothy looked down in time to catch the upper part of Gunman’s head bounce across the wooden planks, leaving stamps of blood wherever it hit. When Timothy glanced up, a figure filled the doorframe—a silhouette of unkempt hair and formless clothes.

  Any relief he felt was short-lived. Whoever wound up the victor would be his killer.

  “Huntress,” Codrin spoke like there was a grievance to settle. “If only you allowed me to help you from the start.”

  She stepped into the flickering candlelight. A silver ball was wedged into her temple. It jutted out from the side of her face like a third eye. A trail of crimson tears scaled her cheek.

  There was no killing this woman!

  She smiled and flashed her growing and changing teeth. The vampire slipped behind her with incredible speed and threw skinny arms across her body. His sickly, grey tongue lashed her blood-wet cheek.

  “More,” he cried in between licks. “Give me more!”

  Raven winced and a simple extension of her arm sent the vampire flying. She wiped spittle off her face with a wave of her elbow, looking at the creature with wide-eyed astonishment.

  Timothy saw his chance and leapt from the chair. He dashed for the exit, pushing his legs as fast as they could move.

  Raven didn’t follow.

  “Enjoy your last night alive,” she called.

  Timothy sprinted into the night as wicked laughter filled the evening sky.

  ***

  The vampire was a sniveling mess at her feet.

  “Please,” Codrin tried to say. She placed her boot on his mouth to force his silence, and his tongue lapped at her sole.

  Elisabeth laughed at the pathetic sight and bent down to face him.

  “Your plan was what? Draw me here? For revenge?”

  The vampire snickered but said nothing.

  Elisabeth retracted her foot and slammed a palm down on the table. It splintered in two. She pointed to the wood with her chin. “Somehow you survived the mountaintop. I will not leave it to chance a second time.”

  She reached for a piece of timber as a hand broke through the dock floor. It missed Elisabeth’s foot by the length of a fingernail, just as a second hand launched upward and pulled her foot through the hole, toward the water.

  Codrin’s wheeze became a laugh, one that strengthened as he rose to his feet.

  The ground around them exploded into splinters. More hands poked through and Elisabeth swatted away the sea of open palms. The haze cleared to reveal slimy, rotted bodies hoisting up and out of their watery graves.

  “We are starving,” Codrin said. “Have to be careful in a city that houses the Order of Osiris, but what else can we do in desperate times?” He dropped down and lapped Elisabeth’s cheek again, running his tongue up and down like a paintbrush.

  She struggled as hands clamped around her ankles and thighs, belting her to the floor.

  The vampire’s lips closed around the silver ball embedded in her head. He sucked so hard that it popped free, delivering a gushing drink of her. Color came back to his face while he gulped, and his hold tightened with each swallow.

  “It’s all about you. Kill a human in this city and you raise eyebrows, but a varcolac foreigner? I saw your lover turned to toast back on that mountain. I doubt anyone else knows you’re here. When I crawled into the forest that night just ahead of the sun, holding my head to keep it attached, I promised that I would see you die. The Rodican refugees who left home in search of survival have lived in shame for months, existing on scraps until I arrived. And you know why they listen to me? Because I promised them the blood of a huntress.”

  He kissed her full on, laughing as his mouth crushed hers. Elisabeth only had her teeth for defense. She bit for him and his reflexes were slow, catching his bottom lip in her teeth and yanking a flap of dead flesh away with a snap.

  Codrin looked as if he couldn’t fathom this. “We were going to feast on you. Bleed you dry and have our way. But now I think that would be letting you off easy.”

  “I hope I give you rot gut,” Elisabeth snarled.

  The floor broke apart as the bodies pushed up further, dropping everyone into water below. A dozen hands wrapped around her, splashing and grabbing.

  She fought to break free but the hands were too many. Exhausted and depleted as they were, dinner was within reach and they would fight to be fed. Sharpened nails dug in and drew blood wherever they could.

  Codrin waved his creatures away as he took her in his arms.

  “You may be invulnerable to many things, but what happens if you are bitten by a vampire?”

  She refused him the satisfaction of an answer.

  He smiled and his eyes danced with life fire that hadn’t been there before. Her blood had rejuvenated him in the blink of an eye.<
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  “I take it you do not know.” The vampire pinched her lips together in the grasp of his clawed hand. “So what say we find out?”

  His teeth came forward, prompting a reaction that surprised her.

  Elisabeth screamed.

  ***

  Constanta was built on fish. Just as its docks were held above water by cylindrical trestles, the entire city was propped on that economy.

  The streets snaked away from the waterfront, but that smell somehow followed Timothy and his busted nose as he gave chase to the bloody man that had once called him brother. The fish smell was vague and he couldn’t be sure he really smelled it, or if he just knew it should be there. Either way, he hoped it was enough to keep Raven off his trail.

  She hasn’t had any problems finding me yet.

  Brother ran in spastic motions, but with surprising speed. Timothy gave chase because it was his last chance to find Garrick’s order. They’d probably want to know that one of their own had been corrupted by vampires.

  If Brother reached the order before Timothy could counter his lies, his fate was as good as sealed.

  Footsteps echoed inland. The only other noise on the street was the two winded men sucking air. Without weapons, Timothy wasn’t certain he could take Brother in a fight, but Raven had injured him upon her entrance, taking advantage out of the equation.

  She did me a favor.

  The chase curved through alleyways and, up ahead, a bustle of nondescript doublets caught Timothy’s eye as they rushed past in a darkened blur, crossing the main street before either of them could reach it. Timothy glanced to his left as his pursuit intersected with the now-vacated main street, catching a glimpse of armed men rushing toward the water.

  He had an idea where they were headed.

  Please kill her. Finish this.

  Timothy wanted to be back at the waterfront, but he couldn’t leave Brother to the fates.

  Constricting alleys spilled into a wide-open forum called Ovidiu Square. The bloody men made feet for the church across the way; a large basilica marked by a heavily decorated steeple and topped with a golden crucifix.

  They sprinted up the steps and Timothy leapt for Brother’s ankles, throwing him off-balance. The traitor tumbled back with a yelp and his weight dropped onto Timothy. In a moment, they rolled down the stairs, trading fists.

  Timothy saw an opportunity and pressed his fingers around his opponent’s neck. This scum didn't deserve life when a good man like Sebastian had given his along the way. In this moment, he wanted nothing more than to snuff this bastard like a dying dog. His hands tightened and squeezed, stunned to discover how much satisfaction he found in this action.

  “That’ll be that.” Someone said from behind them.

  The words came first in a foreign tongue that Timothy refused to hear. He continued squeezing Brother’s throat. The voice tried a different language that was also lost on him. Finally, there was English, and that prompted Timothy to turn and look.

  A pistol hovered in his face, a flintlock that would tear half his skull off given the distance. Behind the gun, a dark and flowing robe concealed the man completely.

  Timothy released his hands and lifted them toward the church steeple before standing.

  “You are a most brazen thief,” the man said. “Are you so desperate that you would rob holy men?”

  “This isn’t a robbery,” Timothy said. “This man is a traitor. His allegiance is to the undead.” Timothy couldn’t quite believe the words, even as he offered them.

  The traitor only wheezed. His attempted defense broke apart with hoarse crackles and he curled up to suffer a coughing fit.

  “If you allow him to lie about it, he will,” Timothy said. “We come from the docks where he held me prisoner. I believe your brothers have gone there to quell the eruption of violence. Your man is more than involved.”

  The pistol remained fixed on him, and the man’s robe bristled in the sea breeze. Timothy could hear him thinking from here. When he spoke at last, he sounded more inquisitive than angry. “You come from the waterfront? And how will you convince me that you speak the truth?”

  Timothy pointed to the bloody man. “He was attacked by a varcolac. The same one your friends hunt…the Raven. I am here on behalf of your order. His name was Garrick and he fell in battle two nights ago. I was with him…we hunted a pack of her kind across the Holy Roman Empire and beyond.”

  “Well beyond if you are here.” The man said.

  Brother was to his feet now, hunched over with hands on his thighs. Each time he attempted breath, he coughed. Watching him suffer brought Timothy enduring satisfaction. So much of it that he wished he’d hurt him more.

  The arbiter kept his weapon trained and retreated up the church steps. An etching on the door labeled it St. Matthew’s. He hoisted the lit torch off its bracket and came back down.

  He held the light over Brother’s red-drenched face, asking him to turn around, lift his chin, and show his neck. In this light, he was absolutely mangled. Deep gashes left flaps of frayed skin dangling. Timothy would’ve sworn it was a mask of fresh ground beef. When the armed man was finished surveying his brother, he offered a tsk with his tongue and shot him in the throat. The turncoat tumbled back across the city’s street, covering his neck before dropping to the ground.

  Timothy felt a smile propping up at the corners of his mouth.

  “He was bitten by a varcolac,” the arbiter said. “That much was clear. It’s up to you to sell me on the rest of the story.”

  He turned his back on Timothy and headed for the church in a surprising display of trust.

  Timothy shrugged and followed.

  ***

  Elisabeth’s only course of action was to bite back. She thrashed while the icy arms of the hungry undead struggled to contain her. She kicked faces and swatted limbs, but her resistance only piqued their aggression.

  Codrin came for her neck. He got so close she felt his fangs scrape the surface of her skin. Her elbow knocked him away followed by a scream of protest. A sign of weakness, sure, but this was desperate. If they bit her—

  She decided against finishing that thought, determined to summon the wolf. It refused to come trotting.

  Commotion on land was nearly as excited. Elisabeth assumed that more parasites were coming to feed and only fought harder. The vampires were concerned with tapping her wellspring, ignoring the land-locked bustle just as much.

  Codrin caught another of her elbows. This one connected with the patch of skin she’d yanked from his chin. Her eyes ballooned once she caught a glimpse of what was coming for them all from atop the broken dock.

  Nine or ten crusaders jumped into the soggy maelstrom. Blades flashed, wooden stakes stabbed, and a volley of gunfire sparked the night. The stench of sulfur presided over the battle. This was something out of a nightmare. She hoped that the parasites and crusaders would kill each other, but they’d never attacked in such overwhelming numbers. The vampires couldn’t survive against their preparedness.

  When they’d reached her on the mountain, she could tell that only the familiar one had been trained to fight this way. His movements were reflected in the way these men moved, attacked, and defended.

  They were good shots and the parasites scattered like cockroaches. It presented an opportunity she didn’t intend to squander. Codrin reached for her as she bent her knees and kicked off his chest, knifing through the water in retreat.

  Elisabeth waded away as he lunged. The entitlement in his face enraged and provoked the wolf. Her legs bulged and jutting nails poked through her fingertips. A perpetual growl hung in her throat.

  No…

  If the wolf understood this plea, she didn’t appear to care. These weren’t ordinary men. They’d hunt her to the end of their days if the inkling took them. And if they were to witness a woman become wolf in their presence, that’s what they’d do.

  The smarter thing was to slip into the night to watch this unfold from the shadows. S
he’d been lucky enough to make it this far amidst the chaos. The hunters were too distracted by the vampires to assess their surroundings. They were more immediately concerned with avoiding the infectious bites that chomped at them. A girl at the edge of this chaos, a possible victim, as far as they might’ve been concerned, was of no consequence.

  Let the crusaders have their victory by stomping out a nest of parasites.

  Sand sunk between Elisabeth’s toes as she soft-stepped onto shore. The wolf’s intensity rescinded as the sand cooled her feet, and her bones ceased stretching. She struggled to calm the muscles further as dry sand stuck to her wet soles. Then the impulse to kill barked back.

  If the wolf wanted this, she was powerless to stop it. Elisabeth offered whispered pleas to the animal that only cemented her helplessness. To the wolf, turning felt like the right thing to do. Her skin would tear. Her bones would break. She would scream. The crusaders would know.

  “Please,” she mumbled, but the display of weakness only incentivized the beast. The animal recognized it as a way to take control. A snarl followed on her lips that she didn’t want. An animal grunt that mocked her human weakness while reasserting dominance.

  Elisabeth’s legs gave next. She fell into the sand and screamed. Her groan contorted with her body. Her arms bent back and then bolted up as her spine rippled and pressed against her flesh. She used every muscle to beat the monster back, but it was almost laughing at her, stomping on her protests with confident claws.

  “Not now,” she cried. Pleaded. Begged. The monster was behind her eyes, no longer asking to be unleashed. She was just coming.

  In between chipped breaths, Elisabeth watched the remnants of Codrin’s tribe slip beneath the water. The hunters stood in the distance, waist-deep in their own befuddlement. Amid her convulsions, she almost laughed. Parasites did not draw breath and could easily hike the Black Sea’s floor, rising off the coast of a desolate village whenever they felt safe enough to do so.