"Dargent, I'm sorry, I promised you."
"Woah woah, before you apologize - get me some decent pants, a coffee, a cig and some chocolate or a steak or something."
In the waiting room of the hospital the morgue was attached to, Tset was in a bathrobe and shorts and sandals, with socks to absorb the discharge from his burns.
He sipped his coffee and bit into his bar but suddenly he wasn't hungry, his stomach tightened and solidified.
He was frozen until White came back over with a fresh pack of cigarettes. "I don't smoke, so I had to buy you these. I don't think it's your brand."
"What happened to everyone else?" Tset didn't shift his eyes.
White's eyes crinkled in a sad smile and he sat down next to Tset. "Not so good as you."
Tset looked at his blackened thighs. He stuffed a cigarette clumsily into his wet lips and destroyed the lighter he'd retrieved by getting flesh into the valve.
His tear glands squeezed some moisture forth, but still the tears did not entirely mix with the other liquids beading on his quickly stitching skin.
He threw the lighter across the room. He got some looks so he saluted the small hispanic woman staring at him most. She was eyes forward very stiffly very quickly.
White used a match. "Thank you." Tset mumbled, around a hitched breath.
He hugged his knees, exposing one kneecap.
White patted him on the back, disregarding the fact that the robe was stuck fast by goo. "It seems like I've found you in this position more than once."
Tset sat up and wiped his nose with his arm, taking a bit of his lip with it. He nodded.
"So, whatcha going to do?"
"Whaddaya mean?" Tset was sullen and mumbling.
"You gonna go on?"
Tset looked at him. "Of course."
"You gonna kill me?"
Tset grabbed the wisps of his hair that had regrown above his ears, then sat up and pointed angrily at White, "Don't even give me the idea - another ally biting it? No, man."
"I'm sorry."
"I hate apologies to begin with so you may as well tell me what you're sorry for."
"My sergeant arrested me so he could kill you, he checked out later, when we got his busted ID card, to be a Haliburton hitman. Like you."
"Yeah, like me. How did you figure that one out?"
"I guessed. Your card was destroyed."
"So you gonna arrest me?"
"No, Dargent, no solid evidence. Just a hunch."
"Thanks for that." Tset brushed his face.
"So you understand how I failed you?"
"Yeah, I definitely got it. How'd your Sergeant end up?"
"You shielded him from the blast." White had crossed his arms.
"That's ironic."
"Yeah, but it was poetic justice."
"Oh yeah? How so?"
White glowered, "He was one of mine, Tset, but his medical report is available."
"Sorry, but I'll have to check that report."
White nodded, "I understand. He was an enemy to you."
Tset sighed shakily.
"Now what?" White asked him as Tset stood, off balance, taking a sandaled step.
"I make a phone call through a sterilized pad on that pay phone. You got coins?"
"Sure."
Tset called Gregory. "Pick up you big old bastard."
"What did you call me?"
"Greg! I'm glad to hear your voice."
Gregory hmphed. "What was the outcome?"
Tset's breath hitched in fury again, "I fucked up."
Gregory was silent for a time. "But you're alive."
"Big fucking deal that is. Be prepared to meet your end around me, boy."
"I'm slightly stauncher than Liz was."
"You wanna not say their names right now?" He breathed deep, watery snot blowing off his lip and onto the keypad of the phone. "I'm a bit raw."
"I understand. I've got something for you though, do you want to hear this right now? I've been trying to figure what to do with the info since you'd died."
"Does it involve retribution?"
"I got the names of the two who organized Z Section. They were seen leaving on my security camera feed. I recognize them and I know who they are and where they play."
"Oh, sweet death, how they'll pray for thee." Tset's teeth ground together.
"Hold on, though, Tset - they've also got Kate."
"What!"
"You were reported dead a day ago, so they snagged her now that you're out. She's to be punished tonight. She was one of their minions, she betrayed them, they aren't just going to kill her."
The feeling of grief came on again, overlain with a burning hate and another, emptier, feeling.
"Sorry to keep you running, you'd probably need your rest if you were dead."
"Me? Fuck rest! Rest is for bitches! Not for the restless! Where's my bike?"
"Tristram moved it to the living room, he was fixing it and it is not operable."
"Fine, fuck it, what's the address?"
"It's in Masterfeldt Park. It's a Clan Blackhawk extravaganza - they really have it out for your woman."
"It's a bit of a drive, I think I'll make it..."
"Where do you expect to get a vehicle?"
"I'm at a hospital with a large parking lot attached. Give me a flippin'-" Then the operator told him to insert another two Eurodollars for the next five minutes.
Tset told the operator to blow him, and then slammed the phone down. He turned. "I need some duds, Captain."
"I actually have just the thing."
They went outside, Tset feeling like a playboy in his coat and sandals with his cigarette and coffee. They walked to a police van.
White opened it and dragged a large metal case out.
"I had one of my guys tinkering with this. It's a stealth suit."
"Er..."
"No, it works, it keeps the scents and heat contained. You're totally hidden in this thing."
"Wait, this is for vampires?"
"Yes."
"Well, put 'er on me! Let's do this! I got a date with the bastards tonight, actually."
Tset emerged from the van a few minutes later with the skin-tight suit on and a SWAT kit around his waist.
"It's also got an exoskeleton but I don't think you'll need it."
Tset was adjusting the elbow mount on the gleaming silver arm supports. "What?"
"Never mind."
Tset grinned, most of his facial skin had grown back and among his things had been his slightly burnt sunglasses. All they needed was a quick polish and the rubbers on the ends of the frames replaced.
And his guns would live too, though they were not in firing condition.
Papillion was also safe and White handed her to him now, with four of Tset's original ten rings. "They tried to confiscate the sword but I told them it was ornamental. Your rifles are in my weapons locker."
Tset kissed the singed scabbard. "Love you, girl."
He tied her to his back and then slipped the few surviving rings on.
"Coulda used my .50. What else?"
"That's it unfortunately."
"No firepower?"
White shook his head, "None that will mean anything where you're going."
"A bit weird you have the suit but no silver bullets, don't you think?"
White shrugged. "This is my pet project and silver bullets are hard to come by."
Tset smirked, "Not if you got the right connections. Anyway, since you're not going to give me a gun, you have to turn your head to a little bit of grand theft auto."
"I can't do that, Dargent."
Tset looked up to the darkening sky. "Then you're off duty."
"Ah..." White was perplexed - he couldn't allow criminality even if it was for a good cause. It went against his grain. "Dargent! What are you doing?" White was yelling at his muscled back.
Tset was already in love with a black Japanese race bike, a massive black HYB 1000, however and no less,
and was gone, riding on the fat back wheel like a maniac, wearing no helmet and totally ignoring traffic and lights, screaming a laugh before White lost sight of him around a bend. He had stolen the high-tech motorcycle and made his egress in under fifteen seconds.
"I really hope I didn't screw up when I offered to work with him."
A Nymph?
Act II
As he rode, Tset gritted his teeth and fought back more of the rage. He was sick of feeling weak and sick of his enemies, whoever they were.
The throttle on his two-wheeled powerhouse rolled and rolled and rolled. Soon Tset's head shook from wind resistance, though he kept on.
Two hours went by before he realized, eventually, and much too late, that he had no idea what he was getting into just then - but there was the park on the horizon.
He killed the engine and slammed the bike down. It slid and crashed, flipping over and over, disintegrating, but Tset was already well above, on a lightpost using the tiny field binoculars that came with his kit to scan the trees.
There were many a black figure milling about in the park and a pile of stones had been set up near the middle with chains and posts sticking out of it.
A cloak broke off and came over to inspect his bike. Tset had to wait and fume and hate for quite some time, as the cloak moved at a leisurely pace towards him.
The vampire checked under cars for the missing rider of the smashed motorcycle but couldn't find him.
He would have shrugged had Tset not dropped down and smashed his skull.
Tset threw the cloak over his head - it was more a hooded frock, and obviously ceremonial.
He shuddered. He had to find Kate and get out right away.
The vampires, and there were an easy two-hundred here, were lining up in even rows. Tset took his place. He'd gotten a few looks, but the vampires' eyes had all passed over him quickly - he gave off no heat and his face was hidden.
They had a hard time having him near, so none even jostled him.
Tset's smirk was wicked and painful. He imagined Papillion to tense in her sheath, he shushed her.
Soon, he was facing towards the stones and the bars and chains, awaiting a ceremony.
Kate had been sleeping when they'd come for her. And unexpectedly she was in their gravecold grasp, hauled irrevocably out of her new apartment and into a transport truck.
She had been knocked clear from a dream about the creep - but in the dream he wasn't a creep at all. He wore jeans, and was playing in a dappled river, shirtless, inviting her over to join him. His smirk was beautiful and she'd known, in dreamland, that he smiled only for her. The sun had been up, wherever they'd been, and he'd just been smiling, his black eyes inviting and lively. She felt relaxed and becalmed by his eyes on her, and it had been years since she'd relaxed.
She'd realized in the time since they'd first met, that he had something about him - something knightly and chivalrous.
These thoughts were interrupted, now, by her captors, and she found herself cursing her creeply knight. It was his fault she was in this position now.
The doors of the truck slid open, after hours and hours, and she was in a park and shivering cold.
Now her heart started to race - the dozens of black cloaked figures could only be one thing, and the flat pile of stones with chains and bars could only be one thing.
The outcome could only be one thing.
She struggled as two other black cloaked men dragged her out of the van, but it was useless - their unnatural strength moved her as though she was cooperating.
She was lead up steps and her arms pulled back, above her head. Either hand, shackled.
She was going into terror and shock, no doubt she wasn't going to live much longer after this, but then, a curious spark caught her attention in the ranks of vampires. Then a second. At the third spark, there was a tiny flame amongst the shadows.
One, wearing dark aviator sunglasses, had lit a cigarette with an old, beaten up Zippo lighter.
He closed the Zippo, which clicked loudly in the near-silence of the hanging death in the air, and stuffed it into his pocket.
One of the vampires closer turned to look at him and Kate saw the glasses drop from her to the glowerer.
Tset was sure whatever he was going to do he had to do it now. His cigarette was attracting little glances.
He went all-in and let the cloak drop from his shoulders.
The vampires near him recoiled at his sudden appearance and the scene was frozen in moonlight for a split second - vampires holding their hands to protect themselves, and Tset standing, letting the cloak slide down from his arms, framed perfectly in the black skinsuit he wore, there was no sound besides maybe a gasp.
The silence was ill-fated - Papillion leapt from her sheath and destroyed a demon who was too slow to duck. The ravaged figure slanted oddly and was gone. She streaked back, cutting the air with her silent call, and another on his other side was open and streaming.
Still a third felt her between its ribs as it fled, and then a boot as it was stomped free and to the ground.
All this before those suffering his concussive emergence had time to retaliate.
In the space, silence and time he made, he heard Kate's shackles release and was next to her, pouncing on and kicking her suddenly-slaughtered vampire captor away - he had seemingly flown to her side, ignoring the oncoming attackers and the sizable distance.
He spun on his booted heel and roared at the massed vampires, daring them to come forward. Papillion glowed at them red and dripped with their blood.
They were going to have to attack or leave, Tset had no chance of escape.
He was gripping Kate's chilled hand in his, waiting for their response.
They hissed and bared fangs, throwing their hoods back, arranging themselves, finally, to charge and converge.
Tset looked around for something, anything, but he was entirely surrounded. He would probably make it, but Kate wouldn't hope to survive.
He looked down at her and she looked up at him. "I thought you said knighthood was dead."
"Apparently it's about to be."
She smiled slightly. "There is something about you, you know."
Tset readied Papillion to beat back the hoards for a second time. "But I use deodorant."
"Oh, cute." She said.
His grin split.
Then a vampire announced, "We want the hunter! The girl can leave!"
Tset said, "That's an out." Under his breath and then turned to them and said, "Fine! But she does not leave my sight until I fall!" He didn't want her tracked through the forest by some wayward combatant with too much blood in his eyes to see.
"Odd demands, hunter, but fine." The vampire turned to his blighted brethren. "Leave her for after, and then the ceremony begins." Then back to Tset, "Come forward."
Tset stepped down from the plateau and then out into the middle of the crowd. They slavered over him even though they could not smell him.
He turned and looked at Kate. She grimaced out a smile so he lowered his glasses to wink.
Glasses up, muscles tensed, Tset turned back to them, "You bitches ready or are we just gonna stand here?"
"Hmph," Said the lead vampire, "So impatient." An airy tone.
The vampires converged, living blades, gnashing teeth, everything Tset nightmared about suddenly thrown into stark black and white, deadly, contrast. He felt pain as they tore through his suit and began to tear into him.
Papillion, at the ready, flashed, cutting through their flesh as though it were water. 'Or honey.' His grimace lengthened to a smiling snarl.
He bit, struck and cut. Kicking when he could get the space and he felt himself being torn apart - an autumnal tree in a fierce hale storm, leaves blown away and scattered to dust.
Suddenly he was held from behind and he could feel teeth lock onto his gorget.
Still he kicked - the boots silver-lined and killing.
The teeth pierced his neck and he gave his blo
od to the one behind. It spat and fell, clawing at its tongue as though having drunk from a stagnant font.
His elbow finished it.
Gasping now, his ribs broken, Tset stood. So was his sword arm broken. He gave it a second to set but it was still sore - a loose break, it would break again.
At Gregory's mansion, Gregory made a telephone call, "Tristram?"
Groggily, "Yeah, what's up?"
"Tset will need your help."
"I knew he wun't dead! What's up? Where's'e?"
"Masterfeldt. They're executing Kate tonight."
There was a bit of a pause, "You know, you could've just called me a few hours from now, told me to be at the funeral where we buried their bits in a fucking shoebox."
"I-" But Tristram had hung up.
Tset had been fighting for hours - he was through a great number of the lower ranks and now they had their blades and their staves. Still too many were too slow, and the stronger ones playing it smart, wearing him down, letting the plebes succumb to Tset's deathblows while those blows became softer and softer.
Very soon, the true Masters would strike; there were very many fewer vampires standing. They were not weary, they wore hideous smiles.
He wiped his blood from his mouth. "What? Too pansy assed?" In the distance a motor roared and he heard a jeep coming over the little hills and benches of the park. Strained refrains of a sadistic heavy metal song crashed out of the distant radio. Tset didn't even look - some punkers were about to have their heads handed back to them. At best.
He dove and skewered a vampire, cutting it open. This one, a Master better fed than many lesser vampires, sprayed an endless spray of blood while it jerked free and proceeded to stumble and roll, screeching in its throes.
He looked up, splattered and dripping. "C'mon." He rasped.
The other Masters, looks of pleasant hatred in their eyes, muscles coiled, were distracted by Tristram plowing over a few of their number in a giant humvee with an open back, silver cow-catcher and raised shocks. The intense UV headlights blinded even Tset.
A massive gatling gun lolled out of the hatchback like the ultimate compensation.
"Yoo hoo!" Called Tristram, waving a white bandanna at the few remaining vampires, who were clawing around from shock.
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