“You look like me after that five-day bender in Berlin back in 1926,” I said.
“Yes, that was quite a time you had. Who knew that you would celebrate your thirtieth birthday by getting in a fight with six Germans, three Austrians, and one random Italian woman who just happened to be walking by at the wrong moment?”
“In my defense, I was drunk at the time,” I replied.
“If I recall correctly, nephew, you were drunk for the entirety of 1926,” Luke replied, smiling. He winced, putting a hand to his split lip.
“It was an experiment. I wanted to see what would happen if I got drunk every day for a whole year.”
“And what were your findings?”
“I found that it takes a lot of money to get me drunk, and I don’t get fat like normal people. So I got drunk a lot, and I got very poor very quickly. I don’t recommend it as a lifestyle. Nor do I recommend doing battle with incredibly strong vampires in alleyways. Who was that beast?”
“That was my old manservant, Augustus Renfield.”
“The one who…?”
“Yes, the one from the book. There were a few things incorrect in the story, of course.”
“Of course. It mentions the fact that you’re dead, after all,” I agreed.
“Well, I am dead, but not forever dead as Stoker implied. And Renfield was not always a madman, but he certainly became one after many years in my service. I believe your aunts may have had something to do with that.”
“You never talk about them,” I observed.
“They were a mistake. I do not enjoy discussing my mistakes.”
“A mistake you made three times.” I might have taken a little too much joy in twisting the knife, but Luke so rarely showed any self-doubt or vulnerability, I couldn’t resist.
“Well, it takes a certain amount of experimentation to prove a theorem. I had to know that all three of them were mistakes, you see.” He gave a little half-smile, and it made me feel better that he was still capable of laughing at himself.
“So this Renfield, the original. What’s his problem?” I knew by the twitch under his eye that I had hit on a sensitive subject, but I wasn’t about to let go. “Go on, Uncle. He almost killed us both tonight, I deserve to know about him.”
“I promised him eternal life in exchange for three decades of service. The same offer I make to all my valets. Most of them realize after only a few years that they are not cut out for service to one such as myself and do not last the term, or they realize that there is a great deal more “forever” than “living” in living forever, and they choose a generous mortal severance instead. Augustus came to neither of those conclusions. He fixated on becoming like me, becoming one with the night, until it drove him quite mad.
“He was mad long before his term was up and could not fulfill his terms of the bargain, so I was under no obligation to turn him. He did not see things quite that way and escaped from the asylum, insisting that I give him The Gift. I refused, and he ran away.”
“Until today?” I asked.
“Oh, but I wish it were so,” Luke replied. “He returned to England some years hence, already one of the undead. And the power he had! He was the strongest of us I had ever seen! I know not how he grew so strong, but I believe it is from drinking the blood of many elder vampires. As you know, there is power in the blood, and the older the vampire, the more power there is to be found. Augustus found that power and returned to England to destroy me. I could not vanquish him and keep those I cared about safe, so I returned to Transylvania, in part to escape, but mainly to do battle on familiar ground. Van Helsing went with me, as did Holmwood, and your father, leaving you the man of the house to look after your brothers and mother.”
“I remember that trip,” I said. “I was eight or nine. I never knew where Father went, only that we had to get dressed up when he came home and that Mother cried a lot that summer.”
“She wept for Arthur Holmwood, who Augustus killed with his bare hands. It was likely to his funeral that you went upon your father’s return. She wept in fear of repercussions from our visit, for although we thrashed Augustus soundly, he escaped before we were able to mete out a final, killing blow. But we did defeat him, and we imprisoned him within my old castle there, hopefully until such a time that he either died of hunger or found himself somehow and became less of a danger to others.”
“Apparently neither of those things happened,” Luke said, staring out the black windows at a history only he could see.
“Apparently not,” I agreed. “Now what?” I asked.
“Now we find out where he sleeps and we kill him at high noon, when his power is at its lowest point.”
“That’s a plan I can get behind,” I said. “You get some rest, we’ll be at the safe house in an hour.” I slid between compartments and directed Renfield to one of our many boltholes around the French countryside.
Chapter 9
“Obviously, we didn’t kill Gus. We couldn’t find his lair, so after several days of searching, we left Paris and worked very hard to forget about him.” I finished my little tale and stood up, ready to go out and face the day. Or at least face police headquarters, where I was overdue to meet Flynn and Smith.
“Until last night,” Ren said.
“Until last night,” I agreed. “Look, Ren, I don’t know what to tell you about Gus. He’s the only Renfield my uncle’s ever had that went cuckoo, and maybe he was a little nutso before Luke took him on. But it’s not like it’s a thing, people that work for Luke going crazy and getting turned into über-vamps. So if you’re worried about that…”
“That’s not it at all, Master Quincy. I merely wanted some background on the man so that I might better understand the monster he’s become. If I understand him, I’ll be better prepared to fight him should he attack us here.”
“No!” I said, a little more vehemently than I intended. “Gus is bad juju. If he comes after you here, do not engage, just get the hell out. Luke can take him if he’s rested and Gus doesn’t get the drop on him, and if he doesn’t have to worry about anyone he cares about becoming collateral damage. That’s one thing that kept him from going full out against him back in Paris—he was worried I’d get caught in the crossfire somehow. So if he comes here, get to safety, and call me as fast as you can.”
“What will you do?” Renfield asked. “You’ve already said you can’t beat him.”
“In a fair fight, I can’t. I don’t stand a chance. He’s faster, stronger, and can withstand way more punishment. Good thing for me, I don’t fight fair.” I patted Ren on the shoulder and stood up. “I gotta roll. Becks and Smith are waiting for me at headquarters. I’ll be back at dusk to put my head together with Luke and plan tonight’s hunt.”
“I’ll take care of him while you’re away,” Ren said.
I looked at the sincere little man, all creases and quiet competence. “I know you will, buddy.”
By the time I grabbed a nasty fast food biscuit and kickstarted my system with a jumbo soda, it was 10:30, so I was almost an hour late when I strolled into the conference room we’d appropriated from the Charlotte-Mecklenburg Police Department. I stopped dead in my tracks at the sight of Gabriella Van Helsing standing next to Flynn, both in pant suits and sensible shoes that screamed, “I’m a government agent and I have at least one firearm hidden under this suit jacket.”
“What the flying green fuck is she doing here?” I asked as I sat at one end of the table. It wasn’t a power thing, it was just closer to the outlets and I needed to charge my phone. I plugged the electronic everything into the wall and put my keys next to it. I left more phones in stupid places until I started putting my keys next to them. That way I can’t leave without getting my keys, and I see my phone under them.
“Ms. Van Helsing is on detachment from the Federal Bureau of Investigation, here to explore the possibility that the deaths we’ve experienced are part of a larger pattern, a serial killer that has been working the United States for ne
arly sixty years.” I couldn’t see enough in Smith’s eyes to see if he knew her cover was bullshit or not, so I went along with it.
“That’s nuts,” I said. “How could one killer operate for so long without drawing attention to himself? I’m sure what we’ve got here in Charlotte is an isolated incident. You can stay if you like, and help us with our investigation, but let’s not be thinking that this a great time to push the yokels aside and make a name for yourself, because it’s not.”
“I assure you, Mr. Harper, that is the last thing I intend to do. As a matter of fact, as a gesture of goodwill, I brought in all the data from the Bureau’s geographic profile. It shows the most likely location for this bloodsucker’s safe house to be somewhere between Fifth Street and Eighth Street on College. Do any of you know of any abandoned building in that area?”
“Not really,” Smith said. “That’s right in the heart of Uptown. I mean, I suppose there are some hidey-holes around Discovery Place where he could build a nest, but I can’t imagine anything would really be private enough.”
“The Carolina Theatre,” I said. Everybody turned to look at me. “Oh come on, folks. It’s right there in the center of the profile zone, and it’s been abandoned forever. It’s perfect. It even has the vampire-ready architecture. If he’s anywhere downtown, that’s where he’ll be.”
“Abandoned theatres do tend to make excellent hideouts,” Van Helsing agreed. “Particularly if there are any Deco or Gothic features, many older vampires will feel very much at home there.”
“I’ve never been inside the place,” I said. “But from the pictures I’ve seen, it’s currently decorated in Early Decay. But it was big-deal Vaudeville-style theatre back in the day.”
“Then that’s our most likely spot,” Van Helsing said. “We should launch our assault soon. Vampires are perfectly capable of functioning during daylight hours, but they are weaker, and exposure to sunlight is fatal to their kind.”
“So if you find yourself in a pinch, break a window,” I said. “What’s the team?” I asked Smith.
“Just the four of us,” he replied. I raised an eyebrow. “We don’t have enough men trained in dealing with supernatural threats. We learned that the hard way dealing with War a few months ago. And since I’m in no hurry to throw perfectly good men away, I thought we’d skip the suicide mission today.”
“Makes sense,” I said. My scrap with the incarnation of War itself wiped out two street gangs, one biker gang, and a dozen very brave and very unprepared police officers.
“Let’s load up. We should be able to do this in one Suburban,” Smith said.
“There are four of us, Smitty. We could do this in a Hyundai.” I followed him down the hall and we boarded an elevator. A couple floors later, the doors opened up into a parking garage full of all-black SUVs and sedans. We piled into a Suburban and rolled out of the underground garage, blue lights flashing. It was a little anticlimactic that there was no traffic in the middle of the day and that our ride in the urban assault vehicle was only about six blocks, but sometimes when you work with the government, you’ve got to do things the government way.
I strapped into the passenger seat and sent a little mental “knock knock” back to Flynn, who was sharing the backseat with Van Helsing.
Yeah, what’s up, Harker?
Harper, I corrected. At least for today. The chick next to you isn’t FBI, she’s—
Flynn cut me off. I was there, remember? At least part of the time. I know who she is. But why hide your name? It’s not like the connection is that obvious.
It would be to her. I knew her family growing up. There’s a chance there might be old pictures of me around. I’d like to keep my ID hidden unless it’s absolutely necessary. And the how? My badge printed wrong, remember? The stupid woman down in HR who can’t do anything right except file enough discrimination complaints every year that everyone’s terrified to fire her? She strikes again. But this time she may be useful.
That would be a first. Fine, I won’t do anything to blow your cover, but you’re on your own with Smith.
Yeah, that was a whole different issue. But before I got a chance to communicate anything to our boss, we were at the theatre. The only thing to indicate there had ever been a Carolina Theatre was a blue neon sign running up one wall. Every other indication that the building we were looking was anything other than the backside of a bank or warehouse was gone. I walked up to a side entrance, but it was locked.
“Anything?” I called to Smith, who had gone over to the small door in the front of the facade.
“No. Locked up tight.”
“The alley it is, then,” I said. I motioned for him to head my way and turned to see Flynn and Van Helsing walking toward me. Flynn tossed a pile of metal at me, and I snatched it out of the air. I turned it over in my hands a couple of times, then looked at her.
“Ummm, thanks, but I’m not into the whole bondage thing,” I said.
She took the thing out of my hands, shook it once, undid a clasp, and tossed it around my neck. Once it settled into place, she tightened one strap around my throat until I croaked and yanked down on it, hard, then she relaxed her grip and fastened it into place. I reached up and patted my neck, now protected by a chain mail neck guard that ran from just under my ears to my collarbone.
“Good thinking,” I said.
“Kevlar’s great, but this is definitely a job where being wrapped in sheets of metal is preferable,” she replied.
“Yeah, I don’t know many vampires that pack pistols, but a mouthful of metal is a good way to ruin a vamp’s day,” I agreed.
“Especially since it’s been doused in holy water and brushed with silver oxide.”
“Holy water, huh?” I asked. “No wonder it burns a little.” I grinned at her and started down the alley. Flynn was right behind me, with Van Helsing following her. Smith had rear guard, covering the alley behind us with his Mossberg full of silver shot.
I put an ear to the door but heard nothing through the reinforced steel. I turned to Smith. “Who brought the key?”
He moved past me to the door and pulled a spool of det cord out of his backpack. In less than a minute, he had a line of explosive running the length of the door’s hinge and wires connected to a handheld detonator.
“Let me try something before we completely give up on the element of surprise,” I said. I knelt in front of the door and pretended to fiddle with a set of lock picks. All I really did was put my head close to the lock and whisper, “Aperio.” The lock clicked open and I pushed the door inward. Blackness yawned before us as I peered into the abandoned theatre.
I stepped through the doorway first, flicked on my red-lensed flashlight, and all hell broke loose.
Chapter 10
The second I clicked on the light, I heard a creak on the wooden floor off to my right. I swung the light in the direction of the sound and almost dropped the flash at what I saw. There must have been two dozen vampires on the stage, all rising from a sleeping position and turning their attention to the door.
“Guys, we have a situation here,” I said. I drew half a dozen glow sticks from my back pocket, cracked them all at once, and threw them as far around the room as I could. “Get as much light in here as you can, and go back-to-back. There’s a fuckton of fangs in this room, and none of them look happy to see us.”
Flynn, Van Helsing, and Smith all charged the room at that point, Smith firing a white phosphorous flare out into the gutted auditorium. A section of rotted flooring immediately caught fire from the sparks, adding to the illumination, but also pouring smoke into the sealed room and starting a bonfire in one of Charlotte’s last standing historic landmarks.
I glared at him. “Was that really a good idea? Flares? Indoors? Didn’t your mom ever tell you not to set off fireworks in the house?”
“Seemed like a good idea at the time,” he replied. “Isn’t that what you always say when you do something stupid?”
“Shut up, Smitty,”
I growled and leveled my pistol at his head. He dropped to one knee, and I put two in the head of the vampire that was coming up behind him. Smith, in turn, pulled the trigger on his shotgun and literally cut the legs off a vampire charging in from my left. I stomped on the monster’s neck with my boot, breaking its neck and rendering it forever dead.
I heard pistol fire from behind me, but I couldn’t spare a thought for Flynn and Van Helsing because three vampires converged on me at once. Or at least they tried to, but since they had obviously never fought together, it didn’t go well for them. The one that got the closest fastest ended up in my grasp, and I spun him around to block a huge punch from an overgrown vamp coming at me head on. He hit the first vampire so hard in the head that the creature’s skull exploded. I dropped my undead shield and put four in the big beast’s chest, but that was only enough to bring it to its knees.
Then the third beast had me. It caught me from the right in a flying tackle, which is always a bad idea. Any time you leave your feet in a fight, bad things can happen. In this case, the bad things happened to me, as the vamp drove me into the stage floor and then stood up to stomp my ribcage in. But just as it lifted up its foot, the pain kicked in and the vampire looked down at its chest. The chest with a silver stake poking out of it. When it tackled me, I managed to roll around and draw one of my stakes before we landed, then staked the bastard when he landed on top of me.
I yanked the stake from his chest, he dropped, and I turned to jab the stake through the eye of the giant vamp I’d left on his knees in front of where I’d once stood. Except he wasn’t there, he was stomping across the stage at the girls, who were shooting everything in sight but not killing nearly enough. They had four or five vampires around them, plus the big boy. Smith wasn’t doing much better. He’d dropped his Mossberg and drawn a katana, which I’d never seen before. But the numbers game was getting to all of us. Even with my few seconds’ reprieve, I still had half a dozen bloodsuckers all converging on my position and very little idea what to do about them.
Hell on Heels - A Quincy Harker, Demon Hunter Novella Page 6