Be My Valentine

by Niall Teasdale

  ‘No… No she’s not. She has got a lot wilder since… Well, since Pat gave her that jolt in the Candle, I think.’ Mike frowned. ‘Well… Maybe that started it, but I think it was discovering that vampires were real that really set her off. It’s like… It’s like she discovered that the world was a bit stranger than she thought it was, so she thinks she should be… um…’

  ‘More open to new experiences?’

  ‘Yeah. Maybe.’

  ‘Is that a problem?’

  ‘No. I don’t think it is. No. I–’ Mike cut off and his back straightened. ‘Someone else is there. I can see someone moving at the back.’

  ‘Let’s be sure it’s Evan. If she’s just having an affair… Well, that’s her problem.’

  ‘It’s a man. I can see a silhouette… There he is. Uh, kind of hard to tell at this distance. Blonde, certainly. Height looks about right.’ He handed the binoculars to Dione. ‘Your eyes are better than mine.’

  ‘Not so much in this light,’ Dione grumbled, but she peered through the binoculars at the house. ‘I think… I think we move in. I’m not sure about him, but she looks scared. He might have some control over her, but she’s not too keen on him groping her. That is not an off-the-books affair in progress. Let’s go.’

  ~~~

  You could hear Mike slamming his fist on the front door of the house all the way through the place. His shouted ‘NYPD! Open up!’ was almost as audible, and it had exactly the effect Dione and Mike had expected it to have: Evan bolted out of the back door, through the conservatory, and he came to a shuddering stop as Dione stepped out from behind a large planter.

  ‘Don’t make this harder on yourself than it has to be, Evan,’ Dione said, her tone weary.

  Evan glanced back at the house and then advanced, drawing a large hunting knife from behind his back. ‘You’re the local Hunter then?’

  ‘Dione,’ Dione acknowledged with a nod. She did not react otherwise; no weapon was drawn and her stance did not change.

  ‘I was trained to fight by the CIA.’

  ‘I was trained to fight by masters of several dozen martial arts over the course of many centuries.’

  ‘Yeah, sure.’ He darted forward, his blade driving ahead of him and aimed at Dione’s heart. Dione pushed his arm aside and stepped in, catching his extended limb and locking the elbow. He struggled, trying to pull free, but she held him.

  ‘Give it up, Evan. You’re no match for me.’

  ‘See about that.’

  ‘Yeah,’ Dione said, shifting her weight, ‘we will.’ Evan let out a scream as his arm snapped in two. Vampires did not feel pain the way humans did, but they felt something when their fractured bones punched out through their skin. He looked at her, shocked, and Dione took the opportunity to slam her fist into his face.

  Evan was staggering now, but he was not down. He threw a punch, left-handed, at Dione’s stomach, but it just glanced off her side as she stepped in and slammed her knee into his groin. This time, the shriek was accompanied by Evan collapsing to his knees, clutching at his manhood with his free hand. He folded over, rolling onto his side, and Dione stepped back, pulling her pistol from under her coat.

  ‘Stay down, Evan,’ Dione said. ‘I want you alive. Just stay put.’

  Mike stepped out of the house, followed by a weeping Kelly Jarvis. ‘Got him then,’ Mike commented, lowering his shotgun to cover the prone form on the grass.

  ‘He said he would end her,’ Jarvis wailed. ‘He said he would end her if I didn’t–’

  ‘He’s got Mrs Tailor in the master bedroom,’ Mike said. ‘There’s a stake through her heart.’

  Dione’s nose wrinkled. ‘We’ll need support. I’ll call the Concilium and get a van out here to pick both of them up. She probably isn’t going to be too bad waking up, but we should be careful.’ Her eyes flicked up to Jarvis. ‘We’ll have her back on her feet, Mrs Jarvis. You’ll have her back soon. We have some counsellors you can talk to. Both of you.’

  ‘We do?’ Mike asked.

  ‘We have some very experienced psychologists in the community. Usually carpathians.’

  ‘I guess that– We’ve got company.’

  Dione turned on the spot. Three men in black combat gear were advancing toward the group on the lawn, two of them holding assault rifles up and aimed, while the third had a similar weapon slung over his chest. Their faces were hidden behind balaclavas and goggles, but you got an impression of menace from them. ‘Keep Evan covered,’ Dione said.

  The leader, the one with the slung rifle, spoke. ‘Hand him over and we can all walk away from this in one piece.’

  ‘I really can’t do that,’ Dione replied.

  ‘He’s ours. We have the authority to–’

  ‘You have no authority over me.’

  The man in black sighed. ‘If that’s the way you–’

  Dione moved. Her pistol came up and she was firing before any of the gunmen knew what was happening. The first round hit the throat of one of the two at the sides, blood spraying out from the wound, and Dione was firing at the second before a drop had hit the ground. The leader was trying to lift his rifle when a bullet tore his throat open. He gurgled as he sank to his knees, eyes wide behind his goggles.

  ‘Fuck,’ Dione grumbled. She pulled her phone out of her coat and began dialling. ‘Evan, I am going to take that out of your hide.’ She lifted her phone to her ear. ‘I need a van out to Abigail Tailor’s place in Springs. Two vampires and three human corpses to pick up.’ There was a pause and then, ‘Yes, three corpses. Get a fucking move on. I’ll explain it to the Concilium when I damn well have the time!’

  New York. NY.

  ‘I don’t get it,’ Pat said. ‘Why bring him here?’

  Dione waited for the locks on one of the Candle’s feeding rooms to engage before answering. ‘I’m not letting him out of my sight and Abigail needs seeing to. We’re going to need a couple of supplicants on hand from the emergency list. She hasn’t been sleeping for too long, but she could be a little disturbed when she comes around.’

  ‘Yeah, of course, but that’s a lousy excuse for keeping a man like Evan here.’

  ‘It’s safe and it’s public. I want people to know we caught the guy. If I spirit him away to some room in the Concilium building, some of the idiots out there will say we didn’t catch him and use it as an excuse to end more valentines.’

  ‘That’s…’ Silas was standing nearby and he looked almost surprised. ‘That’s a damn good idea, Hunter. Didn’t expect that from… uh, someone in your position.’

  Dione looked at him, her expression blank. ‘I told you this isn’t thirty years ago, Silas.’

  ‘Yeah. Yeah, you did. Maybe if you’d been the Hunter in San Francisco back then…’

  ‘Ifs and maybes.’ Dione turned her attention back to Pat. ‘Let’s get some supplicants sorted out. I want that stick out of Abigail’s chest.’

  Pat nodded. ‘On it.’

  ~~~

  The feeding room where they were performing the operation was a little crowded. Aside from Dione, Kelly Jarvis, and the currently inanimate Abigail Tailor, there was Tony and a huge transylvanian he had called in to help, and two supplicants from the emergency list who were hanging back with Jarvis but ready to gift some of their blood if it was needed. Tailor had been laid out in the middle of the room and looked sort of peaceful, if you ignored the length of wood sticking out of her chest. Mike was standing outside the room, guarding both it and the cell being used for Evan.

  ‘All right,’ Dione said, ‘I’m going to go through this for those who may not be aware of the circumstances. Abigail has been forced into a form of hibernation, diu somno. It’s a defensive measure, normally. If we can’t get blood in a timely manner, we go to sleep, which can keep us functional in a dormant state for a long time. Being forced into it is unpleasant and we tend to wake up cranky.’ There was a rumble of laughter from the transylvanian: maybe he had had it done to him. ‘Abigail is a transylvanian,
which makes this a little harder. She may go into a frenzy, which is why we have two nice big vampires here to hold her down.’

  ‘Abby will be okay,’ Jarvis asserted. ‘If she knows I’m not hurt, she’ll be fine.’

  ‘Perhaps, but better safe than sorry. She is unlikely to need too much blood. A staked vampire can go about a year without. However, she has a deep, penetrating wound to heal and letting her feed in a controlled manner from a couple of sources over the next hour or so will ensure she comes through this okay. Any questions?’

  There appeared to be no questions and Dione nodded. ‘Hold her shoulders,’ she said and then settled into position, sitting on Tailor’s thighs. Leaning forward, Dione braced one hand on the sheet covering the floor and took hold of the stake in Tailor’s chest with the other. ‘Okay, here we go. She may buck some. On three. One… Two… Three!’ And Dione yanked the length of sharpened wood free of Tailor’s chest.

  For a second, there was nothing. Then Tailor’s eyes snapped open and she tried to sit up. Her eyes widened when she realised she was being held down, but she did not develop the wild-eyed look of a transylvanian in frenzy. ‘What’s happening? Kelly? Where–’

  ‘I’m here, Abby,’ Jarvis called out. She rushed forward, stopped by Dione’s outstretched arm, but she was close enough that Tailor had seen her and the look of relief on the vampire’s face had Dione relaxing.

  ‘Okay, I think we’re good,’ Dione said, tossing the stake into a corner. ‘Let her up.’ Dione got to her feet as Tony and the transylvanian gorilla lifted away from Tailor’s shoulders. ‘Abigail, you know me, right?’

  ‘Dione. The Hunter. That man… That bastard–’

  ‘Is locked up next door. I’m more concerned with you for now. You have a big wound to heal. You’re going to take it easy for a while. We’ve got you some people to help with extra gifts. You’re lucky. He normally ends his vampire victims.’

  ‘He was using Abigail to control me,’ Jarvis said. ‘He said he would end her if I didn’t do as he said.’ Tears were running down the blonde’s face: relief or pain at the memories, or maybe both.

  ‘When you’re both physically fit,’ Dione said, ‘I want you both to talk to one of our counsellors. It’ll help.’ She looked down at Tailor and smiled. ‘That’s starting to close already. We’ll give it five minutes and then we’ll start with the first gift.’

  19th March.

  Pat, like most vampires, was a sound sleeper. Vampires slept like the dead, for the most part, but that did not mean they were hard to wake up. They could sleep on a bed of jagged rocks if they had to, but thousands of years of vampire hunters with stakes had evolved quite a strong survival instinct, even when sleeping. Exactly what had woken Pat, she was not sure of, but she was awake and alert in an instant.

  She heard another sound: floorboards creaking. Someone was in her apartment and trying to avoid being heard. She waited and heard another creak, maybe softer, maybe further away.

  Reaching out, Pat grabbed her phone and dashed off a quick message to Dione. Then she slipped out of bed and opened the cabinet beside it, pulling out a metal case with a combination lock. Dione had given her the gun not long after the club had been opened and there had been lessons, but the weapon stayed in its case almost all the time. Given what had happened recently, however, the possibility that someone had broken in to end a couple of valentines sprang immediately to mind.

  There was no one in the corridor outside her room, but the door to Silas’s bedroom was open. She made her way, as quietly as possible, toward it, freezing when she heard a floorboard creak under her weight. No one came to investigate and there were no sounds. She continued down the hall.

  Silas was not in his room. Had he been taken from it? If so, why had they not taken her too? Maybe the old fool had gone downstairs to raid the bar. Still cautious, but moving more quickly, Pat headed for the lounge and then went out to the stairs leading down into the club.

  There was no sign of him until Pat reached the ground floor, and there all she found was that the door to the pascua was open. Wondering what on Earth Silas could want down there, Pat started down the stairs. There were lights on, and they should have been out at this time of night. The club was closed; the pascua was not yet open. The only occupant of the place was…

  Pat almost jumped the last few steps and then came to a grinding halt as a pair of stubby assault rifles were aimed at her as soon as she hit the ground. The men behind them were dressed in black, with black masks, and they looked like they had every plan to use their weapons. Her pistol was raised; maybe she could take one out before the other opened fire.

  And then Pat heard the voice from her left. ‘Damn it, kid. What the Hell are you doing down here?’

  Pat intended to glance left before returning her attention to the trained rifles, but her eyes locked in place as they took in the view down the corridor. There were two more men in masks, hauling Evan between them. He had been cuffed, it seemed, and there was a black bag over his head. In front of the trio was… ‘Silas?’

  Her creator was looking annoyed, pained, and resigned, all at once. ‘Put the pistol down before they shoot you in the head.’

  ‘What’s going on, Silas? What the fuck are you doing with these people?’

  ‘Never mind that. Put the gun down.’

  There was, as far as Pat could see, nothing she could do. Dione might have been able to shoot her way out of this, but Pat was just an ordinary vampire. Moving slowly, she crouched down and placed her pistol on the ground. Then she straightened up and raised her hands. ‘What now?’

  ‘Now…’ Silas paused, looking down as he considered. When his eyes came back up, Pat knew she was in trouble. ‘Now you come with us. Bag her.’

  One of the pair of men in front of Pat advanced, pulling a black cloth bag from somewhere behind his back. Pat did her best to relax. There was nothing she could do and they were not going to end her immediately. And she had sent a message to Dione…

  ~~~

  ‘I think we should’ve told her,’ Mike commented.

  ‘Possibly,’ Dione conceded. They were both in Dione’s car, parked down the street from the Black Candle. They had been for several hours and it looked like their patience was paying off. But maybe not telling Pat what was going on had been a mistake. The text message suggested that Pat had detected something going on and she was not going to leave it at that, and Dione had hoped that Pat would simply be left out of it…

  ‘The door’s opening,’ Mike said. He was looking out through night-vision binoculars. ‘I see… Damn it! They’ve got Pat with them. Do you want to go in now?’

  ‘No, we’ll let this play out. If they’ve taken her alive, I don’t think they’ll end her quickly.’

  ‘They probably wouldn’t bother with the bag over her head if they were planning to just end her. Okay. What if they head straight for Langley or something?’

  ‘Then there’s only four of them, plus Silas. We’ll run them off the road and deal with it. Mary’s already preparing a terrorism cover story and the CIA aren’t going to argue it.’

  ‘Right.’ Mike put down his binoculars and picked up his shotgun. ‘And if we lose them, Mary activates the tracker we put on Silas, but don’t lose them.’

  ‘Young man,’ Dione replied, starting the car’s engine, ‘I have been following bad men in cars since before you were born. And before that it was bad men in carts and on horses. I’m not going to lose them.’ She waited for the black van Pat and Evan had been piled into to turn right at the end of the block and then pulled out. ‘I don’t have that many friends. I’m not going to let a jerk like Silas take one of them away.’

  ~~~

  Pat had only the vaguest idea of where she was. She knew from the motion that they had turned right onto 9th Avenue, so they were heading south. They had crossed a bridge: the sound was different on the bridge. They had not gone too far after the bridge before there was more turning and then they had stopped. They
were probably in Brooklyn, which was not too bad.

  Scent told her that they were not too far from the river, somewhere at least semi-industrial. The building they were moved into had been recently repainted. The smell of thinners and industrial preservatives told her that. The sound quality suggested a large space, but not very large: an industrial unit rather than a warehouse. There was the scent of two more men.

  There were also offices off the main floor. Pat was taken into one of them and handcuffed to a chair, and then left there, alone as far as she could tell. She had no idea what they were doing to Evan and, right now, she did not care much. When the bag was finally pulled off her head and she found herself looking at Silas, she vented her feelings on the situation by spitting at him.

  ‘I probably deserved that,’ Silas said, wiping sputum from his shirt.

  ‘You’d better hope I can’t get out of these cuffs,’ Pat replied.

  ‘You won’t. Those are good-quality cuffs and there are plenty of men outside who would prefer to see you shot to Hell and burned, so I wouldn’t recommend it anyway.’

  ‘You’re going to end me anyway.’

  ‘That is up to you, kid. Right now, you’re a potential asset. If you keep your mouth shut and don’t do anything stupid, that circumstance will continue.’

  ‘An asset? An asset for what? What the Hell are you doing with these people, Silas?’

  Silas picked up a chair and planted it down a couple of yards from Pat. He sat down, leaning on the back, and sighed. ‘It happened kind of like I said, only it wasn’t vampires who came for me in San Francisco. The government has been trying to figure out vampires for years. Figuring out what to do with them. Figuring out how to use them. The pogrom came around the time they were thinking that maybe they needed to stop just watching. They grabbed a few of us in the confusion.’

  ‘So you just decided to go along with it? You hated the government.’

  ‘Still do. I didn’t cooperate at first, but then… Hell, kid, they get me supplicants, tasty ones. I’ve converted plenty more since you and no Concilium to get in the way. I proposed using valentines as infiltration agents and–’