Blood Heavy (Blood Heavy Series)

by S. L. J. Shortt

  “I think I’ve got a ways to go yet,” he admitted.

  “You’ll get there, eventually...unless you get killed first of course.”

  “Really? I hadn’t thought of that one,” Jerry said sarcastically.

  “Yes, smart-ass! Whatever the hell is up with your blood, whatever made you like this - whether it was a higher power, mutation, or just some shitty run of bad luck...you’re still just a human, and humans are fragile, so bulk up and raise your pain tolerance. What sure as hell ain’t gonna help is the little Bella Swan impression you’re doing right now,” she stood up and grabbed the empty glass from out of his hand. “So...meditate, masturbate, eat a tub of ice cream and watch Titanic, I don’t give a rats ass, just do whatever the hell you need to do to get your head in the game, cos' like Joe said; whatever knocks you down, don’t let it keep you there.”

  “Hey Cass...”

  “What?”

  “Quit flirting with my uncle, it’s unsettling.”

  She giggled to herself. “I’m just doing it to piss Claire off.”

  “Why would that piss her off?” Jerry asked, completely innocent.

  Cass didn’t answer. She just stared at him, wondering if his complete cluelessness was for real. She walked out of the room without answering and closed the door behind her.

  Jerry was a little stunned. Cass was the last person he would have expected to come and talk to him about what he was going through. But then, she did have the experience. She had been thrown head first into the supernatural world as well, and by none other than her own sister. She had also been to the worst side of the line and back. She had experienced the nastiest stuff this world could offer, so Jerry’s little problems probably seemed amateur to her, at best.

  Jerry couldn’t imagine suddenly being slammed with the guilt and pain of murdering your own parents. Suddenly waking up and realizing that you’re a monster. If she could learn to deal with that, he could learn to deal with this.

  Back in the kitchen, Cass poured herself another scotch.

  “How is he?” Joe asked.

  “Weeping like a little girl,” she smirked. Joe didn’t find this amusing. “He’ll be fine. He just had a minor freak out.”

  “What did you say to him?” Claire asked, warily.

  “I told him that it’s only going to get worse and that he needs to be ready for it. You know; the truth.”

  “Jesus Cass! He’s just a kid!”

  “What, you want me to baby him? Treating him like a china cup isn’t going to help. He needs to be alert, ready to kill anything that comes after him.”

  “Well, we’ve put up wards around the house. They should keep this place off the magical radar,” Celeste interrupted, walking over to them. “Unfortunately, his immunity means that’s all the help we can give you.”

  “So what now?” said Joe.

  “Well, I’ll inform Sophinia. I’m sure she’ll be very interested to hear about this.”

  “I meant about figuring out his blood,” Joe said.

  “Well, he’s immune to our magic. Doesn’t mean he’s immune to other types. Unless he’s impervious to fire and being drowned, I’m sure elemental magic would still work on him. That could help, but it’s up to Sophinia. I know what I would do though,” she said.

  “What’s that?”

  “I’d call Rachel.”

  “Who’s Rachel?”

  “Probably the most powerful psychic in the northern hemisphere. She might be able to give you some answers,” the witch said.

  “And she likes a challenge,” Cass added.

  “I’ll make some calls and see if I can find her. She was in the Hamptons, last I heard,” Celeste said, as she and the other witches headed towards the door. “Cass is right, you know”, she threw over her shoulder, “if you want your nephew to survive, he needs to be ready for whatever they send against him.”

  Joe nodded grimly as they left.

  “Well, this has been a hell of a day,” Goose sighed from behind them.

  “I hope you’re ready for more,” Cass warned.

  CHAPTER 14 – FIRE IN THE HOLE

  Joe’s House – St. Cloud.

  Jerry wandered out of his room the next morning with a nasty headache and big bags under his eyes. Once again, sleep had been difficult and the half bottle of scotch that he’d drunk hadn’t helped.

  Claire was sitting in her usual place at the table and Cass was relaxing on the couch again. This time, however, Joe hadn’t left for work. He’d stuck around to make sure his nephew wasn’t still experiencing a breakdown.

  “You okay?” he asked.

  “My head hurts,” Jerry mumbled in reply.

  “I wonder why,” Joe said, holding up the half empty bottle.

  “Seemed like a good idea at the time,” Jerry shrugged. “Got any aspirin?”

  “Yeah,” his uncle said, and started rummaging through a draw.

  Claire was looking at Jerry with concern and even Cass was using her peripherals to keep an eye on him. Before they could say anything to him, Claire's cell phone started to ring. She took a quick look at the caller I.D. then answered.

  “Yeah, Eddie, what’s up?” she said casually. Her face quickly turned to frustrated worry.

  “What? You said you killed it! How many...four?” she started rubbing her face in annoyance. “Did you use a silver stake...did you torch the body?” Jerry couldn’t hear what the person on the other end was saying, but he could guess.

  “You’re sure it didn’t turn anyone before you snuffed it?” there was a pause, “Well obviously it did, otherwise there wouldn’t be four dead bodies down there!” Claire had stood up and was now pacing the length of the little kitchen. “Look, Eddie, we’ve got our hands full up here. Just do whatever you can...try and find the nest. We’ll send you some back-up as soon as it’s available...oh and Eddie; if you spot Black Forest, you let us know.”

  A second later she hung up the phone.

  “What was that about?” Jerry asked, his curiosity roused.

  “Little problem in Iowa. Don’t worry, we’ll handle it,” Claire said vaguely.

  “You sent Eddie down there? No wonder,” Cass scoffed.

  “Hey, Eddie’s good at his job!”

  “Yeah, like the time he let that Banshee slip past him because he was busy banging a hooker,” Cass laughed scornfully.

  “ Is this guy a monster hunter or something?” Jerry asked shrewdly.

  “Exactly. One of our resident exterminators,” Claire nodded.

  “He a vamp too?” Joe asked.

  “Nope. Plain old fashioned human. Just knows the territory and is good at killing the nasty stuff,” Claire said.

  That was a bit surprising. Humans, at least humans without the full power of the military behind them were pretty much the underdogs when it came to the supernatural, and yet there was a lone hunter out there protecting people against monsters?

  It was quite inspiring. Maybe humans weren’t as helpless as they were often depicted as in books and movies. That must have been what Cass meant when she’d talked about being prepared. If you knew what you were dealing with and had the right tools for the job, humans could clearly be just as dangerous as monsters.

  Jerry walked over to the couch. Cass barely glanced at him.

  “I wanted to say thanks...for straightening me out last night,” he said. Luckily his hangover was beating back his awkwardness.

  “Forget it. Just don’t turn into a weepy little bitch now. I hate that,” she said flippantly.

  “You don’t have to worry about me. What you said last night...and that phone call Claire just had - my life is a little screwed up at the moment, but I’m obviously not the only one. You were right; those evil sons-of-bitches are coming after me, no matter what, so I gotta be ready.”

  “That’s the Christmas spirit!” Cass grinned. “Go postal; it’ll make you feel better.”

  “I’m not gonna climb a clock tower, I just need to know how to defe
nd myself against vamps,” Jerry said incredulously.

  “Start reading,” Claire said, throwing a book to him.

  He read the cover of the old leather tome out loud. “The Many Faces of the Vampire.”

  “Hey, I’ve got the porno version of that one. It’s called The Many Facials of the Vampire,” Cass smiled proudly, and winked. “It’s fully illustrated.”

  Jerry’s cheeks started to burn and his mouth opened and closed several times while he looked for something to say. When he couldn’t think of anything he shifted out of the lounge quickly. Cassandra’s mood had certainly improved since her arrival.

  “You said you were gonna teach us how to shoot today?” he asked Joe.

  “Yeah.”

  “Good, then I’m playing hooky.”

  “No, you’re not!”

  “It’s one day Joe. Education ain’t gonna mean much when a vampire is vacuuming my blood up because I missed my shot!” he said sternly.

  “Your niece has got a point,” Cass nodded.

  “Pound it up your ass, Fright Night!” Jerry snapped back.

  Cass just giggled. She was really enjoying it when he actually shot insults back at her. Jerry flipped the book open at the contents. Thankfully it was in English.

  “How many types of bloodsucker are there?” he said, scanning the information.

  “A few,” Claire shrugged.

  “There’s over a dozen in here!” he said. “Abere...Bruja...Empusa...Gataro...Strigoi...” Jerry listed, reading out loud a few of the names of the different vampire races. They existed all over the world within different cultures, the natives of whom had had varying experiences with them. All such vampire communities had one thing in common though; they consumed human blood.

  “We’re the most common type. Most of the others become monsters and stay that way. In fact, there aren’t many supernatural beings out there that can reconnect with their humanity,” Claire said.

  “So don’t think twice about wasting them,” Cass added.

  “I won’t.”

  “Oh, check out our prepubescent Rambo,” Cass smirked.

  “Oh, check out flat-chested Morticia!” Jerry returned smartly.

  “I’m a C cup you little prick!” Cass hissed. Suddenly, she didn’t seem to be enjoying his comebacks so much. Cassandra was vain: she valued her beauty and insulting it was a great way to get beneath her skin.

  “You seem to be shallowing out,” Jerry grinned, as Claire laughed behind him.

  “You’re right sis; ‘angry Jerry’ is much more fun,” she said happily, as Cass checked her own breasts to make sure they hadn’t gotten any smaller.

  “Christ, this is like kindergarten!” Joe moaned.

  “She started it,” Jerry said, purposely sounding childish.

  “Oh, I’m sorry Nancy; did I hurt your feelings?” Cass scathed.

  “Only if you start putting your training bra’s in with my laundry,” Jerry hit back. It was getting easier and easier.

  This comment resulted in Cass bolting up from the couch and shooting towards Jerry at lightning speed, but Claire got there before she did. Both vampire girls stared each other down before Cass sent an icy look at Jerry.

  “Back off,” Claire warned.

  “I wasn’t going to hurt him...I was just going to break his arms,” Cassandra smiled sweetly.

  “Try it, suck-happy!” Jerry growled, grabbing his Colt .45 and cocking it.

  Cass looked from the gun to his face, and then smiled. “See...and you wanted me to baby him,” she grinned triumphantly, before walking away and slumping back down onto the sofa, leaving Claire scowling.

  It suddenly occurred to Jerry that Cassandra was a lot smarter than she let on. She knew how to read people and she knew how to get to them. Sometimes getting to people wasn’t always about being mean to them. She was actually trying to help him; she just wasn’t doing it in the conventional way.

  Joe finally gave into the idea of Jerry skipping school that day, which automatically meant Goose would do the same. What was unexpected was that Steve and Sarah also ditched and came to join them at the house. They had both reached the same conclusion that Cass had been trying to show Jerry. They were not safe and couldn’t be protected all the time, so they needed to know how to protect themselves. More than anything, their joint attitude was born from their desire to protect each other. They were in love, after all.

  Joe drove them up to Preston Fields in his big Dodge pickup truck. The twenty acre open field was a long way from anywhere and anyone. It was the same place that Doug had brought them for clay pigeon shooting in the past.

  They unpacked their weapons and left the radio blaring. Joe's taste in music ran on the same lines as Jerry’s, or rather it was vice versa, so Jerry listened to some of his favorite classic rock tunes as he learned to handle a gun. Right now it was ZZ Top – La Grange.

  Joe put up some simple targets about a hundred yards away. Most were just empty bottles or busted tires that he was never going to use. He had managed to dig out a darts board from one of the closets though, which meant they actually had a bull’s-eye to try and hit.

  Joe started them off small on the pistols. He taught them how to hold them and reload and fire them accurately. The only person who seemed to possess any natural talent at this was Goose. He managed to knock out two of the bottles on his first try and put a bullet straight through the open hole of the tire on his first go.

  Steve and Jerry demonstrated roughly the same levels of talent. They were definitely amateurs. Jerry managed to hit the side of the tire twice, whilst Steve missed once and got it through the hole on his second try.

  Sarah actually screamed and dropped her gun as soon as she’d fired it. She’d never shot a weapon in her entire life and the bang (which was much louder than the movies let on) had scared her. After a few more tries she was eventually able to fire and hold the Beretta steady. About an hour later she was actually giving Goose a run for his money in terms of accuracy.

  By lunch time all four of them were able to at least hit the tire from fifty yards, if not get the rounds through the hole.

  Next up were the Twelve Gauges.

  “These have got a hell of a lot more kick than the pistols. Make sure you hold them to your shoulder and not your collar bone,” Joe warned.

  They had to move closer to the targets because the shotguns didn’t have a great range, but they did pack a lot of power. Oddly enough, it was with the shotgun that Jerry seemed to excel. He was able to compensate for the recoil a lot better than with the smaller weapons because he was able to put his body into it.

  Again, having had more practice than the others, Goose was damn good with the Twelve Gauge, as well. Steve’s bulky body gave him the same benefit as Jerry’s did with the recoil, but Sarah’s slim athletic frame was another matter. The kick practically knocked her on her ass.

  She didn’t back down though and demanded to try again. Once again, she managed to improve startlingly fast, but admitted that it was probably best if she stuck to using pistols.

  Last came the M4 Carbine, the weapon of choice for most of America’s armed forces. It was lighter, more accurate and held more rounds than the shotguns did, and it didn’t have such a heavy kick. After a little bit of careful tutoring from Joe, all four of them managed to get some seriously decent hits in with the weapon.

  In the few hours before the sun went down, Joe decided to show them all some standard military maneuvers, such as making sure that the barrel of the gun was always pointing in the same direction as their eyes.

  “Where you look, the gun looks,” Joe repeated, a few times over.

  He taught them how to pivot instead of simply turning around, or jumping and losing balance. He then taught them how to move light and fast on their feet, instead of sprinting and running out of breath. They were receiving a condensed version of army boot camp and it was actually fascinating stuff.

  It made Jerry wonder how many people had gone through
these maneuvers, and then, with practice, refined them into deadly methods of attack and defence. These few small techniques could probably give a person the advantage over an enemy.

  All in all, it had been a good day, and all of them left the field feeling somewhat more secure.

  They dropped the lovebirds off at Sarah’s house before continuing on towards home. As soon as Joe cut the engine outside the house, they could hear yelling.

  Cass and Claire were going at it again.