Above them loomed the massive glass and concrete edifices of the office blocks at Canary Wharf, diametrically contrasting with the narrow shabby streets around them. Nathan led the way to a row of Victorian terrace houses. They stood under a flickering street lamp and waited for Nathan’s snitch to arrive, turning their collars up against the seemingly ever-present drizzle that permeated the London air.
Nathan kept shifting from foot to foot, eyes constantly searching the area around them. Ill at ease and nervous. Emily wondered why he was acting so anxious but put it down to the fact that he must be worrying about his informant showing up.
After almost half an hour Nathan shook his head.
‘He should have arrived by now,’ he said.
‘Look, can you stay here in case he pitches up? I’m going to have a scout around, see if I can find him. Okay?’
Emily nodded and leaned against the lamp post in an effort to make herself less uncomfortable as Nathan jogged off around the corner.
Without warning, the lamp above her shattered and the street went dark. Emily jumped but then figured that it was simply an old bulb giving up the ghost. Nevertheless her senses ratcheted up a few notches as her heart rate increased. Colors stood out as more vibrant, the sound of the people living in the wretched, dilapidated houses came across clearly, like they were talking next to her.
Then a strange smell accosted her nasal passages. An overlying hint of snow with an undercurrent of something rotten. Dead.
Out of the corner of her eye she sensed movement. A mere flicker. A shadow. She turned to look but it was gone. And then, appearing in front of her as if by magic, stood four figures. Dressed like her, all in black. Three men and a woman. Their faces as white as a shroud. Lips blood red and eyes like dead coals.
The one man smiled and Emily could plainly see his two large fangs sticking out an inch over his bottom lip.
She felt as though someone had just thrown a bucket of ice cold water over her. Her mind shrieked, telling her to run.
But her legs simply couldn’t move. She was literally glued to the spot by an overwhelming feeling of terror.
Vampires.
She tried to call out to Nathan but her voice merely vanished in her throat.
The lead vampire shook his head. ‘Goodness me,’ he said. ‘Has the mighty Olympus Foundation come to this? Taking on terrified little girls to become Shadowhunters.’ He laughed and the other blood suckers joined in. Their lyrical laughter, proof that they were genuinely amused at how low the Foundation had sunk.
At how pathetic they thought the new Shadowhunter was.
‘So this is what they think will stop us searching for the corona potestatem?’ Sneered the female vampire. ‘I’m almost embarrassed for them.’
A wave of rage washed over Emily as she noted the scorn in the vampire’s expressions.
‘That’s it, you Dracula wannabees,’ she growled. ‘I don’t care who or what you are, I’m gonna be taking names and chopping heads off.’
She drew her Katana as she spoke and the silver coated blade shone in the wan moonlight, shimmering like it was magically charged.
The lead vampire hissed as he sensed the silver but still he moved forward. Emily kept the sword in front of her, tracking the vampire as he approached.
Then the other three blood suckers split up, one flanking to Emily’s right and the other two to her left. She knew that they were all going to pounce at once and overwhelm her so she decided to take the fight to them instead and leapt forward, swinging her Katana in an overhead strike as she did so.
But the lead vamp moved out of the way with such breathtaking speed that Emily lost sight of him.
Remembering Bastian’s advice, Emily kept moving, somersaulting forward and then rolling to her right as she hit the ground. She swung her blade again as she did so and felt a satisfying shock as the silver-steel cut into something. As she jumped to her feet again she saw the female vampire stagger away from her, gouts of blood jetting from her right arm.
She moved again, desperately scanning about as she tried to pick up where the other three vamps were but she wasn’t quick enough and something seemed to explode against the side of her head.
She went down hard, rolling as she did but her vision blurred in and out of focus and she could feel blood trickling down from her temple and onto her cheek. She realized that one of the vamps must have punched or kicked her.
Emily whipped her Katana around her head, more in a desperate attempt to keep her attackers away than anything else.
The three unharmed vamps appeared in front of her once again and, out of the corner of her eye she noticed that the female was still bleeding but it appeared as if her cut was starting to heal.
Feelings of panic started to flutter on the edges of Emily’s consciousness as she wondered what the hell she was going to do next. She was outnumbered and, as far as she could tell, outclassed by the bevy of blood suckers.
She moved again, pushing herself harder than she ever had before, dropping to the ground, rolling forward and coming up hard and fast, punching upwards with the katana as she did. The blade struck the lead vampire in the center if his stomach and penetrated all the way through his body, emerging from his back in a spray of deep red blood. But as he fell forward the sword was ripped out of Emily’s grasp and she had to retreat, drawing her heavy dagger as she did so.
The skewered blood sucker glared at her as she skipped away from him. Then, with a grimace of pain on his face, he slowly pulled the sword from his torso and cast it aside.
‘Now you’ve gone and pissed me off,’ he spat. His voice a sibilant hiss of pure white hot anger. He coughed and blood splattered onto the pavement. Then he shook himself like a dog, threw his head back and howled. A high pitched keening sound that set Emily’s teeth on edge and brought on an instant head ache.
A wave of pure terror washed over the young Shadowhunter as she realized that this was it. But then she immediately quashed the feeling, sucked in a lungful of air, and braced herself. If she was going to die then she was going to do her damndest to take out at least one of these disgusting human leeches before she did.
As one, the vampires attacked. Moving at blistering speed, with fangs and claws extended, ready to slash and tear and bite.
But just before they struck there was a flash of silver and the lead vampire’s head leapt from his shoulders in a huge fountain of blood. A blur of shadow and the other three blood suckers were thrown back as something smashed into them. Emily breathed a sigh of relief, thinking that Nathan had come to her rescue but as she looked up she instantly saw that it was not her friend.
Instead, she saw another vampire, his fangs glistening in the moonlight, talons extended. In his right hand a slim razor-sharp rapier that dripped blood.
The remaining three vampires snarled and hissed as they prowled back and forth, eyeing the newcomer with trepidation.
Then he struck again, his movement a smear of darkness in the night. Talons tore open the female vampire’s throat and the rapier finished off the job, slicing her head cleanly off.
The last two vamps turned to run but the newcomer leapt high into the air and came down on them, slashing downwards with his sword as he did, skewering the one blood sucker through his neck and deep into his torso. Then with a sickening crunch the newcomer jerked the blade from side to side, tearing open a massive wound that dropped the vamp to the ground. As he fell the newcomer grabbed his head and twisted it violently, ripping it off as he did so. Within seconds he had dispatched the final blood sucker in a similar fashion.
Then he stood and faced Emily.
The wind made his black cloak billow about him and the moonlight reflected off his deep green eyes. His long black hair hung down past his shoulders and his pale face was unshaven. His lips, full and sensual and as red as blood. His skin as pale as an angel of the grave.
He was quite possibly the sexiest man that Emily had ever seen in her life.
And
then his eyes flashed and, with a whisper of air, he was gone.
Emily turned as she heard running footsteps. It was Nathan, sprinting down the road towards her. ‘My god,’ he shouted as he drew close and saw the carnage around his fellow Shadowhunter. ‘What the hell? Are you alright?’ He grabbed Emily by the shoulders, running his hands over her as he checked for any wounds.
‘I’m fine’ she answered in a shaky voice.
‘Come on, let’s get out of here,’ responded Nathan as he dragged Emily back to their car. He opened the door for her and then he got into the driver’s seat. Before he pulled off he took out his cell phone and made a call.
‘Ambros, it’s Nathan. We’ve had an incident. Belgrade Street, Isle of Dogs. Need clean up as soon as. Four bodies, vamps. They’ve been decapitated.’ He paused for a few seconds and the spoke again. ‘No, it was Emily,’ he said. ‘I’ll get her back to the apartment. Speak to you later.’
Then, without further ado, Nathan, ended the call, started the car and set off back to St. Pancras.
Chapter 15
Bastian slammed his fist down on the table, cracking the two inch thick Oak as if it were fine china. ‘What were you thinking?’ he shouted at Nathan. ‘She’s a bloody child and you put her in harm’s way. Why did you leave her there?’
‘She survived,’ countered Nathan with a sulky look on his face. ‘Not sure how, but no harm no foul.’
‘Jesus, Nathan. Don’t be so blasé about this. You took an amateur into a battle zone.’
‘I didn’t know that it was a battle zone. I thought that she’d be fine.’
‘Hey guys,’ interrupted Emily. ‘I am right here you know. Don’t I get a say in this. Also, Bastian, I’m not a child.’
The Jamaican shook his head. ‘You’re eighteen years old. Nathan and I are both over one hundred years older. You are a child.’
Emily stuck her tongue out at him. ‘Look, Bastian, I’m fine. Thanks for the concern but it worked out okay. So let’s drop it.’
Bastian pointed at Nathan. ‘I’m not happy, Nathan,’ he said. ‘This isn’t over. You and I need to go round and round for a while.’
‘Up yours,’ retaliated Nathan. ‘You don’t get to tell me what to do. None of you get to do that. There was a time when kings and presidents hung on my every word, and now I have a Jamaican street thug telling me off. You’re all a pathetic bunch of losers. Stuff you, Bastian,’ shouted Nathan as he stormed off, slamming the door behind him.
‘Man, talk about over reacting,’ said Bastian. ‘And that door slamming is beginning to become a bit of a habit as well.’ He turned to look at Emily, holding his gaze on her for a full minute, until she began to feel really uncomfortable and looked away. ‘How did you survive?’ He asked.
Emily shrugged. ‘Just lucky, I suppose.’
‘One vamp, yep. Pretty sure that you could take one.. Two, probably not. Maybe with a lot of luck. But four, no ways.’
‘Well thanks for your total lack of confidence in me,’ returned Emily.
‘It’s not that,’ said Bastian. ‘But Ambros just got hold of me. The clean up team took the bodies to the manor house. Two of the vamps were real old. Well over six, seven hundred years. I can assure you; even I would have trouble taking out those two, let alone all four of them. So, how did you do it?’
Emily shrugged again.
‘Come on, Emily. What aren’t you telling? Seriously, talk to me.’
Haunting images of burning green eyes filled Emily’s mind. And lips, red, kissable. Damn it, she thought as she cursed herself. What the hell is wrong with me?
Bastian was still staring at her. Awaiting an answer.
In desperation Emily said the first thing that came into her head. ‘Umm – what is the corona potestatem?’
Bastian did a double take. ‘What? Where did you hear that?’
‘One of the vamps said it. He told me that they were going to kill me to stop me looking for the corona potestatem. Which is a bit dumb because I don’t even know what it is.’
The Jamaican sat down, took out a pack of cigarettes and lit one.
‘Hey,’ complained Emily. ‘No smoking indoors. Anyway, I don’t care what you say, those are bad for you. Coffin nails.’
Bastian’s lips twitched up in a tiny smile. ‘Come on, Em. I could drink battery acid and smoke crack cocaine and it wouldn’t kill me. You know that crap like that doesn’t affect us.’
‘Well it’s still a gross habit. And…Em?’
Bastian shrugged. ‘You don’t like being called Em?’
Emily thought about it for a few seconds and then grinned. ‘You know what? It’s not bad. I’ve always been the full Emily but Em is fine. Anyway, this corona potestatem thing. Fess up, dude.’
‘It’s a myth. Doesn’t exist.’
‘Cool, so a bunch of bloodsuckers want to kill me over something that doesn’t exist. Come on Bastian.’
Bastian took a drag of his cigarette and blew a series of perfect smoke rings into the air. ‘I’m not sure exactly what it’s supposed to be. Some say it’s a crown, some a ring. Whatever, the myth dates back many hundreds of years. The upshot of the whole thing is that this object, the corona potestatem, is meant to be able to give vampires the ability to walk in the daylight. It makes them immune to the sun. Not only that, it protects them against silver and, apparently, frees them from the need to drink human blood. Which means that they would become pretty close to invincible.’
Emily shrugged. ‘So? I mean if it only works on one vamp at a time, what’s the big deal? We could still take him out, surely?’
‘The big deal. Em, is that the only thing that stops a vamp being right at the top of the food chain is the fact that he has so many inherent weaknesses. Yin and yang. Balance. He has speed, strength, rejuvenation, immortality. Not to mention their capacity to glamour people into doing their bidding. But against them we have the power of light and silver. A vamp who is a daywalker is a big problem. I mean – he could become president of the United States if he wanted. Who could stop him? How could any normal human resist his glamour?’
Em nodded. ‘Okay. So this is bad then?’
‘Yeah. But fortunately, we’ve all been searching for this so called corona potestatem for hundreds of years now and Ambros is pretty convinced that it doesn’t exist. Or, if it ever did then it has been irretrievably lost. Still, if the vamps are seriously hot for it and they’re willing to openly go to war over it then, regardless of whether it actually exists or not – it’s a problem. I reckon that we pack up and head back to the big house. We need to talk to Ambros and the rest of the troops.’
Em nodded her agreement.
Chapter 16
Ambros, Bastian and Emily sat in the old man’s study. Nathan had stayed on in London, giving ‘personal reasons’ as his excuse not to return to the manor house.
‘Sir William knows more than he’s letting on,’ said Ambros.
‘I reckon that’s true,’ agreed Bastian. ‘The vamps wouldn’t randomly trash his place for no reason. They were looking for something that he has. And it’s ten to one that he knows what it is.’
‘No,’ interjected Em. ‘I spent an evening with him and I didn’t get any hint that he was hiding something.’
‘I see,’ said Ambros. ‘So you got to know him quite well then?’
‘Well, no,’ admitted Em. ‘Not so much.’ She thought for a while. ‘To be honest, actually, he was pretty good at avoiding any questions about himself. He has a way of turning every question around so that you end up talking about yourself all night.’
‘So what you’re saying is, you didn’t get to know him quite well then,’ continued Ambros.
Em nodded. ‘I suppose I didn’t.’
‘Can you get to see him again?’ Asked Ambros. ‘I mean, socially, not in an official capacity.’
‘Probably,’ said Em. ‘I’ve got his cell number; I could give him a call.’
‘Do it now,’ instructed the old man.
<
br /> Emily left the room before she called, in order to have a little privacy and Ambros continued speaking to Bastian.
‘This whole incident with Nathan,’ said Ambros. ‘The vamp attack and Emily managing to kill them all.’
‘What about it?’ Asked Bastian.
‘Give me your thoughts.’
The Jamaican shook his head. ‘The first thing that springs to mind is – how the hell did the vamps know that Emily and Nathan were there?’
‘I agree. All that I can think is that the vamps had someone following them. It’s not exactly a secret that we own the St. Pancras flat.’
‘True,’ confirmed Bastian. ‘Then, secondly, either Em is not telling us something or she’s far better than I’ve given her credit for. I mean, two of the blood suckers were elders. Powerful. And the others were no Aspirants. I can’t help thinking that she couldn’t have bested them all so easily. She hardly had a mark on her. Didn’t ring true.’
‘What did Nathan have to say?’
‘Nothing. He said that by the time he got there it was all over. Four headless blood vamps. Emily’s sword had been blooded so, maybe it was her.’
‘Logically, who could have helped her?’ Asked Ambros. ‘Think about it. Unless they turned on each other. No human could have helped. They simply wouldn’t have had the strength or speed to affect the outcome. Id est, it must have been her.’
‘Occam’s razor,’ agreed Bastian. ‘The simplest answer is usually the correct one. I suppose that she got lucky. There is more,’ he added. ‘She said that one of the vamps mentioned the corona potestatem.’
Ambros paled visibly and then he leaned back in his chair and closed his eyes for a few seconds. ‘Not again,’ he whispered. ‘I thought that they had given up on that.’
‘No real worries,’ said Bastian. ‘It doesn’t actually exist so they can search all they want. As long as they don’t think that we have it and start a war because of that. Actually,’ he continued. ‘I’d give good odds that the vamps were looking for it at Sir Williams place. Makes sense. More fools them.’
Emily Shadowhunter - Book 1: VAMPIRE HUNTER Page 7