Blood Goblet

by J. P. Rice

  The medium announced, “Join hands, gentlemen.”

  The vampires held each other’s hands. The two on either side of me reached out as far as they could to join hands and exclude me from the energy circle. I had the urge to lean forward and bite one of their forearms.

  The medium stood at the table with his eyes closed and his lips moving. His eyes opened and he said, “We come here to talk to Reginald Danforth, a proud member of the Purple Clan of vampires. Welcome Reg to our meeting.”

  In soft tones, but not in unison, the vampires orally welcomed Reg to enter the room.

  The medium spoke calmly, “If you are in the area, please give us a sign. If you thirst, drink some water.”

  The glass in the middle of the table shook violently and water spilled out of the cylinder, drenching the table.

  The medium smiled deviously and shifted his gaze upon me. He wiped the sides of his mouth and continued, “To prove that we are your true friends, we shall make an offering. As a new vampire, the elders of the house take many blood samples. We will prove our association with you by offering up some of your blood.”

  He picked up the glass bottle of blood and popped off the top. Tilting the bottle, the blood started to pour out and into the smoking cauldron. The blood sizzled harshly and steam poured out of the fiery cauldron. Little burnt circlets of blood jumped out of the cauldron and speckled the table.

  “Reginald Danforth, would you like to join us?” asked the medium.

  The cup of water on the table started to shake again and spilled over onto its side. One of the vampires threw a small towel on the spill.

  The medium looked around the table. “He is with us.” He lifted his head toward the ceiling. “I ask you, Reginald, are you with us?”

  Reg’s voice came through loud and clear as he answered, “I am with you. Please save me.”

  Sweat glazed over my entire body again and I shifted around uncomfortably.

  The medium stared at Reg’s wheelchair and said, “We are trying to save you, good friend. Is there anyone out there that would know where you are right now?”

  “Mike Merlino,” Reg announced. Everyone’s eyes shifted to me. The words were like a stake through my heart. I’d never felt so rotten before.

  Reg continued, “Ask him. He knows why. I don’t know where I am. I feel like I’m stuck inside a tree. I need help.”

  It was as if someone had taken a sickle and started swinging wildly, shredding my heart strings. I was a monster. If I told them where Reg was, there wasn’t a guarantee they could bring him back. The vampires didn’t like me, I knew that and that this could all be a ploy to kill me. My eyes glanced around the room for the speakers, wondering if this was an elaborate set up.

  I tried to play dumb. “This is all staged bullshit. I know you guys too well.”

  The medium said, “Pay no attention to that negative energy. Reginald, do you have any idea of where you are?”

  “I’m fucking buried underground near a tree,” Reg said, angry, desperate. “Somebody get me out of here,” he begged.

  Suddenly the table shook wildly, knocking the candles over and sending the vampires scrambling to put out the flames.

  Roydell said, “I think we’ve heard enough to know that you were involved with this, Merlino.” He walked around the table as he spoke. “Come clean or we will have to take action.” He pulled out a knife and walked over to me. The vampire jammed the point of the blade into the table and it stuck there.

  A few vampires left, and one came into the room. A series of thunder strikes erupted, almost sounding like a Gatling gun. Strange, I couldn’t hear the rain anymore.

  Del Rubio drew his Colt Revolver and jabbed the cold barrel into the side of my neck. “Stop the lying, right now,” he shouted.

  With a loud boom, the door busted open and slammed into the wall. Gunshots broke out, peppering the room with the speed of a semi-automatic. Roydell took the knife out of the table and ducked behind me.

  How had I got caught in the middle of a vampire war? Just my fucking luck.

  A vamp near the door turned to run, but a spray of bullets hit him in the back. His body twisted and turned from the onslaught until he finally fell on his face. A full-figured woman emerged through the door.

  Glenda appeared holding a Barrett REC 7. I could have sworn there was a halo above her head. She smiled at me, looked around the room, and screamed, “What’s is up fuckers? Rember me?” she slurred the words, obviously drunk.

  I wondered why would they remember her?

  Someone fired at Glenda, and my heart stopped as she stood completely still. I counted the shots. Two, three, four, five, six. Click. Click.

  My new best friend laughed, and her eyes darted around the room. “Wow. Someone is a terrible shot. Too bad for you fuckers, my aim is true.”

  Glenda Gold raised the semi-automatic rifle and started another firing spree.

  Chapter 19

  Even with bullets whistling past my head, I felt safe. Perhaps foolishly, considering Glenda appeared in the midst of another bender. Roydell had climbed under the table to hide, brushing by my leg as he ducked for cover.

  The vampires dashed from side to side, using their lightning quick speed to dodge the gunfire. It was almost as if they were hopping from one spot to the next, leaving a blur like a dark streak of paint. Timson knocked his top hat off and raced across the room, leaving a blurry trail in his path.

  Glenda nailed Timson in the chest with a barrage of bullets, staggering him backward. The vampire stopped and looked down at his bloody torso. He took fifteen unsteady steps toward Glenda before collapsing to the ground.

  I scooted the chair back and stared down at the bonds on my ankles. Studying the wards cast over the chains, I started to notice a pattern of defense.

  Using mental magic, I manipulated the air in the room to form a solid object. I shaped it into a hand with the index finger extended and lowered it so that it hovered just above the bonds. The defense code, an ever-moving series of letters and numbers, breezed by and I waited for a compromised spot.

  4, 5, 6, 7, 9. There it was. I used my mind to jam the extended finger into the coding and break the spell. Once the defense ward was broken and had dissolved into thin air, I emitted as much strength as possible into the opaque hand. I forced the fingers to open up and maneuvered the hand so that I could pull the chains away from my ankles, not against them.

  After projecting a considerable amount of power into the hand, I pulled back. Instead of the chains breaking away and busting into a thousand pieces, they dug into the chair’s legs. Glenda kept up her assault of bullets and her target practice session with the vampires was providing me with time to escape.

  As I leaned ahead trying to get a good view, the chair fell forward and the high back above my head got stuck on the top of the table, leaving my hands tied behind the chair, and me dangling painfully. It put tremendous pressure on my shoulders and collarbone.

  I could still hear bullets firing and Glenda’s voice screaming over the gunshots. “Roydell, you piece of shit. Quit hiding. That fancy blue and purple suit needs a little red on it,” she commented casually while chuckling.

  I saw the barrel of the gun out of my peripheral and cringed as Glenda opened fire. My eardrums felt like they were going to burst as she unloaded on Roydell. His body flopped around as the bullets peppered him. The barrel of the Barrett disappeared, and Glenda yelled, “That’s what I thought, bitch.”

  There was nothing I could do but wait and hope Glenda wouldn’t run out of bullets. My hands were bound securely. A defense ward was probably set to make the bonds unbreakable. I couldn’t see the ward to stop it, putting me in an insanely vulnerable position.

  I repositioned my magical hand on the chains and gave them a good yank. The hard steel broke the bottoms of the legs, the chair shifted around and I thought I was going to fall on my face. The uneven chair stabilized itself but now leaned to the left. Moving my legs around, I realiz
ed that my ankles were still surrounded by chains but weren’t bound to the chair.

  A symphony of bullets drew closer to me and then stopped abruptly. That could be good or bad. Glenda could have wasted all the vamps in the room. Or the vampires had taken out Glenda. Considering she had stormed the place, the vamps had little time to launch a counter attack. Although time had slowed down after Glenda showed up, the entire fire storm had only taken a minute or two.

  The irksome silence continued until it was broken by a blade scraping against a sheath. Why was someone close to me taking out a knife? No more bullet eruptions. They’d gotten to Glenda. I was fucked.

  I felt something touching my hand. Something cold. The blade of a knife. Two seconds later, I fell face first into the carpet. I rolled onto my side, and despite the shooting stars in my vision, I saw Roydell’s body under the table, riddled with bullets and with plumes of smoke coming from the holes.

  I jumped up, hit my head on the bottom of the table and almost fell down again. Reaching up, I grabbed the table for balance and rose to my feet. As I tried to shake out of the chains, I looked around, but my blurry vision couldn’t focus on anything. Using my finger and thumb, I rubbed my eyelids trying to gain some relief.

  A figure came into focus. A big, thick, dark figure. A figure chugging a Pabst Blue Ribbon tall boy. An unlikely savior.

  Glenda Gold finished the beer, fired the can against the wall and belched loudly to tie it all together. “You ready to get out of here?”

  The corners of my lips slowly curled into a smile. “Abso—fucking—lutely.” I reached down and freed my ankles from the heavy chains.

  “Stay behind me.” She put a new magazine in place and locked it in with the butt of her palm. She gave me a thumbs up and headed for the exit.

  I crouched down and followed her out the door and down the hallway. She seemed to be familiar with the layout so I didn’t shout directions. We turned right at the end of the hallway, entering the front lobby area.

  “Oh shit,” cried Glenda. Gunshots erupted. Not semi-automatic gunshots.

  I could hear the bullets whizzing by and expected Glenda to dodge the assault, but she remained perfectly still. She was smart. Under stressful situations, most people were terrible shots, even well-trained police officers. If she’d moved, it would be more dangerous than standing pat.

  One person certainly appreciated the indomitable strength it took to stare into a hail of bullets. That would be the mortal man standing behind her.

  My guard raised the Barrett rifle and opened fire. The vampires scurried away. One dove into the receptionist’s booth near the entrance and another darted out the front door.

  Glenda started walking as she continued firing and I stayed right on her heels. Two vamps lay on the checkerboard linoleum with smoke coming from their bullet wounds. The female receptionist peeked her head through the opening in the booth. Glenda caught the movement from her peripheral, jerked the gun to her left and fired.

  The receptionist’s head disappeared just in the nick of time as an outpouring of bullets traced across the booth from left to right. Glenda suddenly spun around, and I peeked over my left shoulder.

  Another vampire had his pistol raised at me, ready to fire. Click. The gun jammed. The ultimate sigh of relief heaved through my lungs and out of my mouth.

  Glenda pulled the trigger of the Barrett. Her gun didn’t jam. A string of bullets crushed the vamp in the chest and shoulders.

  Instead of waiting for the body to fall, she turned back toward the entrance and we were moving again. Glenda kicked the front door open and we moved outside into darkness. More shots sailed past our heads and I marveled at how reckless Glenda was with her life. Almost as reckless as yours truly.

  The only part of her body that moved was her head as she scanned the area, trying to identify where the shots were coming from. I couldn’t tell either and moved behind a column on the patio for protection. Glenda fired, but it was a short burst, not the long continuous fire storms she had been bringing.

  A smoking body fell next to the limo in the front driveway. Another short burst of bullets from Glenda dropped another vampire, hiding near the valet booth. “Let’s go,” Glenda said, and I followed her down the entrance and along the perimeter of the driveway.

  We moved past several limousines, a few Cadillac Escalades, a Porsche and a Ferrari. We moved further down the driveway.

  Glenda pointed, and said, “We’re right over here.” Off to the side of the driveway, on the grass lawn under a tree sat an old beat up junker of a car. “Our chariot awaits, good sir,” she said with an English accent.

  You had to be kidding me. This was our getaway car. To call it a piece of shit would be an insult to pieces of shit. It was a Mercury Monterey convertible from the fifties or sixties. You could barely see the original yellow paint because of all the rusting. Or patina as some would call it.

  The convertible top was damaged and mangled, not properly in place and the front grill looked like she had used it as a battering ram. One of the headlights was dangling above the bumper, holding on for dear life. I would bet this vehicle had really been something back in the sixties.

  Glenda jammed the key into the ignition as more bullets flew in our direction, hitting the car. I said, “Come on, let’s get the fuck out of here.”

  She turned the key. Wooz, wooz, wooz, wooz, wooz, enkkk.

  Those were not good sounds for an engine to make. She tried again.

  Wooz, wooz, wooz, wooz, wooz, enkk.

  Bullets busted through the back windshield and I sank down in my seat, heart pounding against my ribcage.

  Glenda rubbed her hands together as if she were working up a spell and turned the key again. Wooz, wooz, wooz, wooz, wooz, vroom.

  She pressed on the gas and the engine roared like a hungry dragon after a year-long hibernation.

  Glenda shifted into drive and the tires spun in place, shooting grass and dirt in every direction. The tires caught traction, and we were off, fishtailing on the lawn until she got the car onto the paved driveway. The rubber squealed and smoked as it met the pavement and we bolted toward the entrance.

  We started down the incline toward the entrance gates and several vampires were standing in front, blocking our exit. I turned to my left. Glenda narrowed her eyes, sped up and smiled. Oh shit. I checked for a seatbelt. None, of course.

  I gripped the sides of my seat and jammed my right heel on the imaginary passenger brakes as Glenda sped up even more. The vamps looked at each other as we neared, confused as to why we weren’t slowing down. Just a crazy-ass Brazilian, fellas. Best to get out the way. I wondered how she had got through the entrance to get in.

  The enemy realized Glenda had no plans to stop the vehicle and dove out of the way as we rapidly approached. I ground my teeth and squinted, bracing for the worst, as we plowed into the metal gate.

  A huge silver spark flashed from the impact. To my surprise, the gate gave way and finally busted open. Glenda’s loose headlight flew twenty feet in the air and landed behind us as we cruised out the opening and to safety.

  “Wooohoooo,” screamed Glenda as she reached under the seat. She pulled out a PBR can and opened it with one hand while steering with the other.

  “Are you sure you should be drinking right now?”

  She turned and looked at me like I was crazy. “Fuck yeah. Little celebratory brew for rescuing you and settling an old grudge. Want some?”

  She slammed the back of her hand into my chest and a volcano of beer flew up in the air. I turned my head away but the fountain of golden ale rained down on my face and lips.

  Using my shirt, I carefully wiped all the beer off my face and especially my lips. If I drank any alcohol, I would lose my magical powers. Considering we had everyone from the Purple House on our ass now, losing those abilities would be detrimental.

  It was a little deal between the Gods and me. They had been afraid I was developing a drinking problem and had given me a pill
to be certain to nip it in the bud. So I had to be careful not to consume even a drop.

  I pushed her hand away. “No thanks. Don’t ask again.”

  “Pansy.” She chugged the rest of the can and casually tossed it out the window.

  We drove for a while in silence, but I remembered her previous statement. “So what did you mean by old grudge, back there?”

  She stared into the rear-view mirror. “Hold on. We’re almost here. Gotta make sure the vamps aren’t lurking. Those fuckers move quick.”

  The gravity of what had just happened started to hit me. “I can’t believe you killed so many of them back there.”

  “I didn’t kill any of them,” Glenda explained. “If I had, the survivors would be hot on our heels. Those weren’t silver bullets or dipped in holy water or anything like that. For immortals, it was just one hell of an ass whooping. Hell, they’ll probably heal back up within a couple of weeks. Sure as shit slowed em down though.”

  We pulled up to a row of Section 8 housing in Etna. I wasn’t sure what street we were on, but Felix and I had passed here before and he had told me it was Section 8 block. It certainly looked the part. The dull blue paint on the front façade of the ten dilapidated duplexes was chipping and peeling away. The house on the end had WHORE written vertically in black spray paint down the front door. A man sat against a door in the middle of the row of housing. He swilled on a forty of Olde English and was either talking to himself or an invisible friend. He didn’t look like a vampire waiting to ambush us, but I reminded myself to keep an eye on him.

  I’d lived in cheap housing like this back in high school. With a sixty-one-year-old woman who called herself Mouse. It was either that or the streets. I always wondered what had happened to her. We hadn’t talked after we’d gone our separate ways. I’d graduated and moved into a better place. Life worked in funny ways.

  Glenda threw the Mercury in park, grabbed three cans of PBR from under the seat and hooked the carrying strap of the Barrett over her shoulder. She opened her door and so did I. As I walked around the vehicle, my eyes widened, noticing it had been hit by at least a couple dozen bullets of a high caliber. Big ole holes in the back door. The back windshield was busted out and one of the taillights had been shattered.