Wight

by Dorien Vincent

  He waited.

  Charles left fifteen minutes later and Tset identified his Jag.

  The next night Tset followed her again, this time Charles took her out back to have his conversation. Tset went over the roof and listened...

  "Look. He sleeps there. I can’t even get him to look at me. We don’t even know if he likes women anyway, Charles." Her voice was perfect. No European accent, perfectly enunciated. 'What am I doing to myself?'

  "Alright, chicky, I own you, you owe me, understand?"

  Tset left and came into the bar. He headed right for the back door. Outside Charles was in her face, giving her a talking to, when, all of a sudden, the door hit him where the right side of his nose met his cheek. With an angry yelp he dropped.

  Tset lit up a cigarette, "Woah, sorry buddy, looks like you took a door to the face."

  Her eyes were on him, but he couldn’t read her.

  Charles pulled a small pistol and pointed it at Tset, before realizing, "You!"

  "Me? Let me help you up, this is no introduction."

  Tset grabbed the pistol and hand and lifted Charles up. Immediately he put him back down, hard. Turning, he grabbed her hand, cold as ice, and said, "We’re going." She followed and he threw his jacket around her shoulders.

  After a minute Charles raced, bleeding, from the bar, to stop dead in the cold. His Jag was a mess of twisted, burning steel and broken glass by way of hand grenade. As they drove off, Tset smiled.

  A mile back towards town she spoke, "We’re being followed."

  "I know."

  There was a small motorcycle in his mirror. The headlight was off and the rider was as dark as his bike.

  "It’s a vamp. Probably thinks we’re the average couple out for a night ride. As long as we don’t... oh, God damn it."

  Other dark shapes moved in the buildings around them on either side of the street – they were out, they were disorganized, angry and they were hungry. Little vampire covens like this were Tset's regular fare when he wasn't on the job, but the girl was definitely in danger.

  He turned his head to look her in the eye out of the corner of his, "This is going to get ugly. They want blood. They aren’t regular people, so just do as I say and stay close – act the part of scared girlfriend, in fact."

  In minutes they were headed off. Tset put down the sidestand and walked up to a brutish but pallid man, in leather, who had a steel cudgel in one hand.

  "Sorry, sir –" began the thug but Tset's hollowpoints roared. The partially-minced vampire bowed back under Tset's gaze and smoking guns, and then collapsed, a look of choked surprise on his face.

  The others reacted with supernatural grace and speed to the killing, coming around from the initial shock quickly and rushing to attack. The girl gripped him while he fought but one took her away.

  They were surrounded, and she yelled in fear, "Help!"

  The one was making off with her in his hands like she was a doll and nothing more. Tset broke a blocking arm, broke a ribcage and flew down on the thing, "Give, that, back." He spat.

  He tackled them both, the girl underneath.

  The vampire rose to face him and a left hook snapped its head back against its shoulder blades.

  Even with its neck broken it stumbled forward until Papillion cut its head clean off.

  Blood sprayed and the girl screamed again.

  He kicked the the corpse over and grabbed the girl, throwing his jacket over his shoulders just after a bullet passed through his chest. He turned, the gun in his fist reporting again and again and again. The creatures fell, their wounds burning deep.

  One slid up out of nowhere and Tset pistol whipped him hard enough to put him in the gutter.

  He mounted his bike again now that the hoard had been battered back, downshifted to first and sped off, both wheels going over the original vampire with the cudgel.

  Now Tset hauled. He had to lose them before they came around and attacked again or got reinforcements even worse. He could fight goons like these all night, and had, but the girl was still at risk and he still didn’t even know her name. 'Or what the FUCK I'm doing!'

  Out from behind a large dumpster a small black motorcycle shot, catching up to Tset. The rider had no helmet and reached with fangs and claws towards Tset’s right arm, caught a brutal elbow with his mouth and then a large fighting knife with his forehead. He tumbled off the bike and flapped around in the street until another of his own ran him over and came at Tset with more murder in his eyes and a chain in one hand.

  Tset veered and the chain nicked his mirror. He slammed on the brakes and backhanded the thing as it rode past, shifting back into gear, he fired downwards as he sped by.

  Tset was in 4th, doing a hundred, checking his blind spot and his side view mirrors, when he was sure he’d lost them he took a sharp right and sped off towards a safe house.

  Tset parked his bike in a side alley, covered it with a blanket, collected the girl and went inside the old tenement.

  No one had lived there for some years and it looked dilapidated, but inside he had food and water, telecommunications and an old VCR and TV setup. He had no tapes, as they’d been magnetized by an EMP that’d gone off nearby.

  He sat the girl down in a recliner and asked, “Are you hungry?”

  She shook her head, but she looked cold, so Tset brought her a ratty quilt and a noisy space-heater to warm her feet. He took her shoes off.

  “Get some sleep. We might have to leave suddenly and you’ll need your wits when we do.”

  She shook for a few minutes and regained her composure, inhaling and exhaling once, then she glared at him. "I want to thank you for the help, but do you have any idea what you've done?"

  His honest answer, "No."

  She huffed and looked away. There was a spot of blood on her cheek.

  Tset had mixed feelings, all of them bad. "Should I explain myself?" He wiped the blood off with his thumb.

  She hit his hand away. "Howabout just getting me out of this alive, okay?"

  Tset shared an unhappy smile with himself and went to watch the window. 'Shoulda known, Tset old boy.'

  At sunrise, Tset stepped down from the window and woke the girl up, gently touching her shoulder. "It looks like they're gone. Would you like to go get some breakfast?"

  She looked bleary-eyed and felt herself to be misplaced, then she focused on him, and he could see clean annoyance sharpen her beautiful features, "No. Just take me home."

  Tset felt the zero edge on that no and nodded, "Okay. You'll have to guide me."

  She nodded once and threw off the blanket. She looked at herself in her black dress for a quick moment and looked back to Tset, "Is there somewhere I can shower first?"

  "Sure, down the hall. The door locks, too. Take your time and I'll be back with a change of clothes for you."

  She laughed slightly at his mention of the lock. "Change of clothes?"

  "My car is in the shop," Tset was angry with his heart leaping like it did at her slightest of warmths, "All I got's the bike. Sun just burned off the cloud cover so it's colder than dead midnight outside and your hair'll be wet."

  She nodded and spoke in appraisal, "You're so considerate." But this was dismissive, she was gone down the hall, "No peeking!" She called back. This wasn't said in a jocular fashion, Tset felt like a pervert.

  He sighed, hung his head, broke a wooden stud with his fist and left - he broke the stud not over his rejection, but at being so stupid. He couldn't remember the last time he'd had any compassion for anyone or anything. Aside from jobs.

  He was back in twenty minutes. He had her a pair of thermal-lined jeans, light, low-heeled riding boots, a shirt and a zip-up sweater. He also had a couple of egg-bacon-cheese sandwiches from some fast food place.

  He popped the lock on the bathroom door silently and threw his clothing purchases onto the sink without looking.

  He enjoyed his eggy sandwich while he waited.

  In a minute she called for a towel.r />
  Tset didn't have towels. He got her another blanket and handed it through the door, "It's all I've got, don't worry - it'll absorb enough water."

  She came out of the bathroom ten minutes later, clothed, wiping at her hair with the makeshift towel. "Thank you."

  He nodded, "I got you this, too." He handed her the second eggy sandwich. She looked at it and frowned, "I don't normally eat this sort of thing."

  "Oh..." Tset sighed. He looked at the sandwich in his hand then at her. "Sorry."

  "But I'm hungry, I'll make an exception." She took the sandwich from him.

  Tset had been feeling childish. His mood darkened suddenly - or rather, the accumulating darkness of his mood finally broke into a thunderous storm head.

  "I noticed you unlocked the door."

  He was surprised but too darkened to care, "Force of habit. I've got shit to do and people to kill today, do you mind if we go?"

  She snorted, "Why the sudden hurry?"

  "I've realized the error of my ways. When Knighthood Was In Flower is a good book not to put into practice. Why don't I put you back into your life and you don't try to fuck me over again, yeah?"

  She looked thoughtful, chewing her nutritionless sandwich, "You're odd."

  "Yeah, and my enemies are a bunch of dangerous fuckers. You might want me to buy you a plane ticket and a gun."

  She gave one, small, laugh. "Thanks for the offer, but I'll work things out."

  But Tset saw it: fear.

  "Well, I'll give you a heads up if I see anything that might cause you trouble." Then he thought, so similar to his friend in Japan, 'I'm also a world-class idiot.'

  She hmphed again, small smile at one corner of her mouth, "What were you saying about that book?"

  "You can walk, to make up for it." His smirk, for the first time in a while. As of late it had been a spiteful snarl whenever it did show up.

  And he was out the door, spinning his keys on his finger.

  They arrived at the bike at the same time and she was slightly out of breath, "You know..."

  He looked at her, smiling still, "Oh, not walking?"

  She was visibly annoyed and Tset was pleased with himself, cracking a real grin.

  She exhaled sharply. "Why are you wearing sunglasses, anyway?" That was the only thing in his immaculate appearance she could claw at.

  He was firmly seated before he flipped them up onto his forehead, keeping his playful grin in place. Her expression turned to dismay. He dropped the glasses back. "Wish I could tell you why they're like that. It's probably an awesome fuckin' story."

  He bent and put the key in the ignition. He hit the starter and on she looked. "Ready to go or are you gonna walk now?"

  She shook her head, dismissive again, but gripping him tightly from experience. "No wonder people want you dead."

  "Yeah. No wonder."

  "You're also vulgar."

  He rolled the throttle open. "Force of habit." They tore out.

  After a conservatively-speedy, read cop-careful, jaunt, Tset pulled onto her street and slowed to fifteen miles an hour. "Which one's your apartment? Don't point."

  "Brown brick building."

  "Which floor?"

  "Third." She began to hesitate, but the next question came too fast.

  "Which window?"

  "Corner, why?"

  "Gotta check it out." And he sped up down the street.

  "What do you think you're doing?" She was upset and impatient now.

  "I'm going to go into your apartment and check it out."

  "Oh no you're not! Pull over or I'm jumping off!" Tset was annoyed, and didn't stop until she shifted her balance.

  He parked and put the kickstand down and she made to get away, but his grip on her wrist was firm. "Look, trust me on this."

  "There is no way you are going into my apartment! You're a creep! I can't believe I even told you where I live!"

  A police officer, on his morning beat, observed the two bickering. He sauntered over to inspect, "What seems to be the problem?"

  "This guy's a creep and's making passes at me!"

  Tset let her go, "I'm sorry, Off', just, I thought I saw someone go into her apartment who shouldn't have."

  She glared at him. "What?"

  The cop harumphed, "I'll take it from here then, thank you, sir, be on your way."

  Tset smiled, pleased, "Okay."

  He got back onto his bike and went back the way he came.

  The girl was definitely confused now. She had a feeling the creep was up to something.

  The officer had her key in hand, he slid it into the dead bolt, and turned it. There was the expected click, but to both their surprise there was a violent explosion of gunfire and the officer was cut down. The door itself was totally destroyed in the deluge of ammunition. What was left of the blue-suited police officer buckled and fell, or slid down the wall, or dripped off the ceiling.

  The girl was well out of the way but almost prone and unable to move - the violence immobilized her, the thought that that was intended for her made her freeze. That she should have trusted Tset confounded her.

  After a minute or two, while she sat and stared, a big gangster came out of the doorway, he looked right at her, angrily, and flexed his hands. "Oh, you dumb-" And he dropped to his knees, eyes rolling up, fell down over the remains of the police officer, his blood pooling around them both out of two surgically-clean cuts in his neck and back.

  Another gangster, smaller, yelped as he flew out of the door, across the hall and broke his neck against the shot-up paisley wallpaper, dropping limp to the floor, head lolling, arm jerking.

  She saw a jacket cuff and a leather-covered hand strangling another gangster who'd made a run for it.

  And then he was there, calm, unstained, and unruffled. He used the door jamb to smash his prisoner's face. The gangster sprawled when he was tossed.

  He looked at her, "Your window was open." He bent, lifted an exquisite sword and sheathed it across his back.

  He went back into the apartment, "Oh, still wiggling?" She heard a gunshot, "Don't think so."

  Some movement, something thumping around, then the phone hitting the ground.

  He was back, he held a length of telephone wire which he used to bind the gangster with the ruined face. "Call the cops off a neighbor's phone, this one'll talk."

  She still stared.

  "C'mon, you can handle vampires, but not this?"

  He waited, when there was no response he shrugged.

  He started taking pictures of two of the dead gangsters and one more inside with his cell phone. This got a response, "W-what, what do you think you're doing?"

  He chuckled, "I've got contracts on three of these motherfuckers. Anyway, see you around, or not." He stepped back out through the door, carefully around the pools, and saluted her with two fingers as he walked off down the hall.

  She heard his voice from the stairwell before the door closed. "And don't look so glum!"

  Outside, he had a cigarette as he walked back to his bike. It was a nice day out. As he was apt to sometimes do, to keep himself company, Tset thought aloud, "Damn, I gotta get out more often!"

  He whistled a sonata then, in a good mood that this episode of his life was over and hadn't started. Still didn't know her name. "All the better!"

  A woman passing him glanced in his direction and then hurried away. He ignored her.

  Soon he was drumming his fingers on his cylinders in time with the sound of the engine, letting the beast warm, a cigarette was still in his mouth and his mood was good - he'd found purpose again.

  Sure he'd lost it within twenty-four hours, but he didn't know where the effervescence came from - unless another true distraction, such as a damsel, came along, Tset would sag back into his old habits.

  He found he didn't care. It was a good living. 'And baddies bite it when I'm on the street.'

  His smile was a grimace.

  Another Night,

  Another Covenr />
  That night, Friday, Tset went back around Charles' bar, where he'd found the girl, and he searched for the remainder of the vampire coven.

  The smell and the sound led him there soon enough - they operated, as vampires were apt to do, a dance club, or, 'Meat Farm.'

  It had been Thursday when he'd rescued that girl, and no food or prey then, but now, Friday - ample numbers crowded into the narrow stairwell.

  It was even titled, in blazing neon, 'Le Ferme.'

  Tset observed that stairwell entrance from across the street, in shadow, smoking a cigarette.

  He hmmed unappreciatively - the way it looked, the club floor was located in a basement below yet another empty tenement, as was the usual but unfortunate circumstance.

  It would give Tset very little room to move around and dispose of evidence. Rooftop or forest raves were so much easier - the vampires normally didn't catch on at all.

  He checked his stiletto, Papillion on his back, under his trench coat and inverted to drop into his hand if he released the leather thong on her guard.

  His .45s had their load.

  He rolled his shoulders and started walking, powering down the last of his cigarette before flicking the butt onto moist asphalt. He pulled his coat tight over his US military sweater - black, with a turtle neck - and then pushed the woolen cuffs back to his elbows.

  'Time to work.'

  Twin tendrils of smoke eddied from his nostrils as he slipped past the human bouncer, who was checking someone elses' IDs.

  He coughed at the bottom landing and covered his mouth with his sleeve, ducking and slipping past another two vampires opening a steel door for another gaggle of customers.

  And he was inside.

  Tset felt immediately violated, ultimately, as he always did in these places; just a coven's haunt was enough to offend him, but with the intermixture of everything the denizens of club life reveled in was too much for Tset.

  The music, pounding, thudding, drowning, was worse than all the gunfire and close-cracked shots he'd ever had concuss his sensitive ears.

  The smells assaulted him - heavy perfumes and colognes, sweat, stale alcohol and blood. The vampiric smell roiling all through that, choking, balmy and cloying, worse than all the smoke and gas canisters he'd charged through, on the escape, or on the attack.