Emily Shadowhunter - Book 1: VAMPIRE HUNTER

by Small Dog Publishing

  ‘So when were you going to tell me then?’ Insisted Em. ‘At what stage of our relationship were you going to inform me that you were a werewolf?’

  William smiled. ‘We have a relationship? Splendid.’

  ‘Oh shut it. I’m really angry with you,’ yelled Emily.

  ‘Well what about you?’ Asked William. ‘When were you going to tell me that you were Buffy the vampire slayer? And, by the way, I’m not a werewolf.’

  ‘Please William. I bloody saw you turn onto a wolf the size of a trailer home.’

  ‘Yes, granted. But I’m still not a werewolf. Technically, I’m a shape shifter.’

  ‘Tomato – tomahtoh.’

  ‘No. It’s a very different thing,’ insisted William. ‘Believe me, I know quite a few werewolves. They have to change during a full moon. It’s a biological imperative. And when they do, they have very little control over their animal instincts. They hunt. And that is pretty much what dominates their thoughts. They can also change at will during other phases of the moon and at those times they are more in charge of their faculties.’

  ‘And you?’ Asked Emily. ‘What’s the big difference?’

  ‘The change is never forced upon me, no matter what the moon is doing.

  Also, I’m bigger, much bigger, faster and stronger than your common and garden werewolf, although I am still vulnerable to silver. But probably the biggest difference is that, as a shifter, I control the level of the change. If I want, I can half change or even less. Sort of an upright man/wolf hybrid. So I have the enhanced strength, speed and healing but can still walk upright and talk. After a fashion, anyway. Werewolves are pretty much an all-or-nothing state. Man or wolf.’

  ‘I get it,’ admitted Em. ‘A month ago I would have freaked out big time but now, well, I won’t say that being attacked by vampires and being defended by a werewolf...’

  ‘Shape shifter,’ interrupted William.

  ‘Whatever, I won’t say that it’s meh...but it’s in the realms of normal. So what’s your excuse for denying that Vamps exist?’

  ‘I was protecting you. How was I to know that you were a Shadowhunter?’

  ‘True,’ admitted Em. ‘So you know about Shadowhunters then?’

  ‘I’m hundreds of years old and I’m a shape shifter. Of course I know about the Olympus Foundation, in fact I have had many dealings with them in the past. Just not recently. Well, not for many years, actually.’

  ‘I’m only eighteen and a few weeks ago I considered that to be a young adult. Now that I’m surrounded by all of these thousand year old men I’m starting to feel like a bit of a baby.’

  ‘Steady. Hundreds...not thousands.’

  ‘Whatever.’

  ‘Anyway,’ continued William. ‘It doesn’t work like that. Physical age has nothing to do with how old or knowledgeable or experienced that you are. It’s a spiritual thing. As a Shadowhunter you come from a long line of selectively bred superhumans. Their memories, their experiences...they are all inside you. Just waiting to be unlocked. Your physical being is eighteen years old but your essence is many hundreds if not thousands of years old. Particularly if both of your parents are of the original line.’

  ‘They are,’ confirmed Emily.

  ‘Well then, Emily Shadowhunter Hawk. You are a very special person.’

  ‘Cool, Thanks. How much longer until we get to the manor? I’m seriously worried about them.’

  ‘Not long. But I wouldn’t worry. There’s no way that anything bad could happen to a group of Shadowhunters. I mean, it would take a full scale war to bring harm to them, a concentrated attack by sixty plus vamps, maybe more if you include the grinders. And I don’t see the brethren launching a war for no reason.’

  ‘Maybe they have a reason,’ says Em. ‘What?’ Asked William.

  ‘What I already told you.’

  William drew a deep breath. ‘The corona potestatem Is that why you mentioned it? Are they looking for it?’

  ‘Apparently,’ confirmed Emily. ‘I ran into a few of them a couple of days back and they brought the subject up. But why should that matter? You’ve already told me that it doesn’t exist.’

  William grimaced. ‘I may have been a little light with the truth there.’

  ‘Oh, big surprise. Don’t tell me, you lied again. Is anything that you’ve actually told me the truth?’

  ‘Everything is true,’ reacted William. ‘Except for the shape shifter thing. And the vamps. Oh, and the corona potestatem. It does exist but that is all that I can tell you.’

  ‘That’s all that you know?’

  William shook his head. ‘I’m not going to lie to you again, Emily. I know much more about it but I’m not at liberty to tell you. I’ve sworn a blood oath and I cannot break it.’

  Emily sat back in her seat with a sigh and kept silent.

  Meanwhile, William drove the massive sports saloon like it was an extension of his own body, taking impossibly narrow gaps and barreling around corners on two wheels. They got to the gates of the manor house in record time only to find them wide open.

  William raced up the driveway, turning his beams off as he did.

  ‘Let’s not telegraph our arrival,’ he explained. ‘Just in case.’

  ‘Hey,’ said Emily. ‘You do know that its night time? People need light to see.’

  William smiled tightly. ‘I see just as well at night.’

  Em shrugged. ‘So do I, I guess, it’s just habit to want lights on.’

  As they drew closer to the house William shook his head. ‘I don’t like this. Something’s wrong. No lights. And look,’ he said as he brought the car to a halt. ‘The front door has been smashed off its hinges.’

  He opened the car door and then ran around to the trunk and pulled out a katana in a scabbard. He handed it to Emily. ‘This sword has been in our family for centuries. It was crafted by Japan’s greatest swordsmith, Goro Masamune, over seven hundred years ago. Its blade has been coated with silver. Now, it is yours.’

  Emily accepted the sword and belted the scabbard around her waist.

  William took out another item and handed it to her. ‘Colt .45,’ he said. ‘Para-ordnance frame, so it holds fifteen rounds. Silver tipped bullets.’

  Emily stuck the pistol into her belt with a nod of thanks.

  William started to strip, throwing his clothes into the trunk as he did so.

  ‘Hey, what’re doing?’ Asked Em.

  ‘I’m going to change,’ he answered. ‘No need to ruin another set of clothes, so I’ll take them off first.’

  ‘Oh, of course,’ acknowledged Emily. She half looked away but not so much that she couldn’t still see him. As William pulled off his boxers he glanced at her, caught her eye and winked. She blushed and straight away cursed herself for not being able to control her autonomic response, as Bastian put it.

  But she continued to peek as William changed. This time he didn’t go full-wolf but sort of metamorphosed into a man-wolf hybrid. At the end of the transformation he stood almost eight feet tall and the muscles on his arms, chest and legs were monstrous, liked someone had constructed him out of raw concrete. A thick layer of dark fur covered his body. And his face, although undeniably still William, developed a protruding snout, large exposed canines and pointed ears.

  ‘Let’s go,’ he growled, his voice a savage blend of animal and human.

  Emily followed the Wolfman up the stairs to the broken front door. Just before they went inside William held his hand/paw up. ‘Wait,’ he said in a soft growl. ‘I smell blood. Humans and vampire. Also something else.’ He sniffed the air. ‘Zombies?’ He questioned.

  Emily nodded. ‘The servants were zombies,’ she affirmed.

  The wolf-man shook his head. ‘That’s grotesque.’

  ‘It’s not what you think,’ defended Emily.

  ‘Whatever,’ responded William. ‘Let’s proceed with caution.’

  Emily followed him into the manor, drawing her sword as she did so. They moved s
ilently, all senses alert.

  They walked down the long corridor on the ground floor, William leading the way, allowing his sense of smell to guide him.

  Slowly, he pushed the door of the drawing room open. Emily gasped in shock as they walked in. The carpets were soaked with blood. There were also large splashes of it on the walls and even the ceiling. Scattered around the room were three headless vamp bodies and, in the far corner, the diminutive corpse of Josephine Brady. Her katana was broken, the blade snapped in two. In her hand was a Glock 10mm pistol, the slide racked back, showing it was empty. Emily checked Josephine’s pulse but it was obvious by the gaping wounds in her chest and neck, that she was dead.

  They left the room and ghosted back along the corridor checking the other rooms as they did so. In the kitchen they discovered another two dead vampires, their heads had been torn from their shoulders with great force and around them lay the bodies of five of the zombie servants, their arms and legs ripped off, massive gaping holes in their torsos. But no blood. Like dismembered dolls. Broken puppets.

  ‘Zombies are incredibly strong,’ noted William. ‘But slow. They managed to get a couple of the bloodsuckers though. Good on them.’ He looked closely at the vampire remains. ‘Grinders,’ he said. ‘Not true vampires. Look,’ he pointed. ‘Misshapen heads, slightly malformed bodies. Strong and quick but stupider than a box of horse shoes. Fanatically obedient to their masters. The Vamps use them as cannon fodder.’

  Again they wandered through the charnel house of death, seeking Emily’s friends. As they got close to the dining room William held up his hand.

  ‘I can smell fresh blood in there,’ he said. Emily stood behind him as he placed his massive paw on the door. Then, with a huge surge of power, he simply smashed it off its hinges and charged into the room.

  This time, the sight of seven dead vamps greeted them, four of them grinders. And, lying on the table, Karl’s dead body. All about him were spent shell casings and in each hand he held a Desert Eagle pistol. His throat had been torn open and it was obvious that something had fed on him, as there were bite marks on his arms and face. ‘The Grinders did that,’ said William. ‘They often feed on their victims. And not just blood, they eat the flesh’

  He tilted his head to one side and then, without warning, he ran from the room and Emily followed.

  They twisted and turned down corridors until William crashed through a set of double doors into a huge ball room. In the middle of the room stood two men.

  And surrounding them were close on twenty vampires. A mix of Grinders, Adepts and Masters. The Grinders were gibbering like hyenas, jumping up and down with bloodlust and excitement, whilst the other blood suckers were hissing and howling as they attacked.

  Emily saw that it was Piet and Lyle who were facing off against the pack. Both were bleeding from multiple wounds. Piet was wielding his katana and a short dagger while Lyle had a massive war hammer in his hands. On the floor were the dead and wounded bodies of at least another twelve vampires. The place was a nightmare of blood and gore. Hieronymus Bosch’s version of hell.

  William instantly slipped into full wolf mode, dropping to all fours and attacking, tearing into the exposed vampires’ backs.

  Emily drew her pistol and started firing off rounds. Her shots landed true but although they put a few vamps down, she knew that the hits wouldn’t kill them. At that moment, however, she was simply happy to slow them down some.

  The slide racked back. Empty. She launched herself at the vamps, drawing her katana and striking in one fluid movement Once again the room became a stage for the dance of death and destruction.

  Vamps screamed, William howled his hatred and Piet and Lyle cried out in anger and physical effort.

  The first Shadowhunter to go down was Lyle, as even his great strength could not keep the multitude of vampires at bay. Blood poured from a huge number of wounds and he was borne to the floor by a pile of Grinders who slashed and bit at him, ripping open his jugular and painting themselves with his blood. As they start to feed on him Piet roared and attacked, hacking them off Lyle’s body.

  ‘Get up, fat man,’ he shouted. ‘We’re not done yet.’

  But there was no answer and before Piet could turn, a Master jumped him from behind and bit down on the back of his neck. Piet fell to the floor twitching in agony as he did.

  Emily and William were forced into the corner as the remaining dozen blood suckers fanned out and readied themselves to attack.

  William glanced at Emily and, even though he could not talk in full wolf mode, his expression was easy to read. His devastation at not being able to protect her. His helplessness. His feelings of despair.

  Emily smiled. ‘Hey,’ she said. ‘There’s only a few of them. Tell you what, I’ll take the ones on the left and you take the ones on the right.’

  William gave her a wolfy grin, exposing his four inch long canines.

  But just before they launched themselves at the approaching blood suckers, something came crashing through the floor-to-ceiling windows that lined the one side of the ballroom.

  A single man in a black cloak, spinning in the air as he leapt in.

  Emily looked up. His cloak billowed about him as he landed, 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. With a flourish he drew his rapier and attacked.

  William and Emily followed suite, hacking and tearing and carving their way through the surprised brood of vampires.

  Within seconds all of the brethren lay dead. William prowled around the room, checking to make sure, using his massive jaws to tear the heads from the shoulders of anyone that he suspected might still be alive.

  Then he changed back to his Wolfman mode, while Emily rushed over to check on Piet.

  Meanwhile, the newcomer stood still, about fifteen feet away, his rapier by his side. Silent. Alert but not nervous.

  ‘You,’ growled William.

  The newcomer bowed theatrically. ‘Yes, Sir William. It is I, Sylvian Baptiste at your service.’

  ‘You two take care of Emily. Also, I don’t know where Bastian or Nathan is. Ambros was here but he disappeared.’

  ‘What do you mean?’ Asked Emily. ‘He ran away?’

  ‘No,’ said Piet. ‘In the middle of the fight he got bitten bad and then he just disappeared. Poof. Gone.’ The big man grimaced in pain. ‘Oh, man,’ he gasped. ‘This bloody hurts. Do me a favor, Emily,’ he continued. ‘Do you think that you could get me something to drink? I mean alcoholic. Brandy maybe.’

  ‘Of course,’ said Emily. ‘Just lie still.’

  She stood up and as she was looking around the ballroom to check if there was a drinks cabinet of some sort, a shockingly loud gunshot echoed through the room. She looked back at Piet to see that he had drawn a pistol, put it to his temple and pulled the trigger.

  ‘Oh no,’ she cried out as she knelt next to him. ‘Why?’

  ‘He is a brave man,’ said William. ‘He didn’t want to turn so he killed himself before he could. Come now, let us check the rest of the house for survivors.’

  Emily shook her head. ‘There is no one else,’ she whispered as tears rolled down her cheeks

  ‘What are your plans?’ Asked Sylvian.

  Emily looked up at him for a few seconds, her mouth open but mute.

  She didn’t survive the change but the bite brought on labor. So, alas, I was born to a dead mother. As such, it is true that I have many traits of the vampire. I am not immortal but I do live an extended life. Like the blood suckers I cannot take daylight, so have to live at night. However, I don’t have to drink human blood to survive. I eat normal foods, although I do have fangs, but I use them only for battle. Obviously I also have increased strength and speed and eyesight. So,’ he ended. ‘Not a vampire but almost a vampire. Tu comprends?’

  Emily nodded.

  ‘And so,’ continued Sylvian. ‘That is why I hun
t the vampire. They killed my mother and they cursed me to live forever in the dark,’ he spat on the floor. ‘Merde!’

  ‘So you saving me was simply a byproduct of your hunt?’ Asked Emily.

  Again Sylvian did the French shrug. ‘Perhaps.

  But still it is a happy coincidence is it not?’

  ‘Emily,’ interrupted William, still in Wolfman mode. ‘We need to get out of here. Do you have anything that you need to collect?’

  Emily put her hand to her pendant that Ryoko had gifted her only a few weeks and also a lifetime ago. She shook her head. ‘I have everything that I need,’ she said

  ‘Clothes,’ said William. Emily took a deep breath.

  All that she wanted to do was leave but William was right. She needed clothes.

  William nodded at Sylvian and then glanced at Lyle’s body. An unspoken request flashed between them and the Frenchman nodded and drew his rapier, knowing that Sir William wanted him to ensure that none of the dead Shadowhunters could turn. Sylvian would remove their heads when Emily was out of the room.

  Then the Wolfman followed Emily to her room where she grabbed a rucksack and piled all of her black Shadowhunter outfits in. She didn’t bother with her dresses as she figured that the time for frivolities was over, although she still retained enough vanity to pack her new makeup and beauty products. ‘Right,’ she said. ‘Let’s get the hell out of this slaughter house.’

  The three of them ran from the house. William opened the trunk to retrieve his clothes, morphing back as he did so. After quickly pulling on his outfit he jumped into the driver’s seat. Emily climbed into the back seat and Sylvian rode shotgun. The powerful engine roared and the car sped down the driveway.

  ‘I’m going to head to London,’ said William. ‘That alright with you?’ He questioned Sylvian.

  ‘Oui,’ confirmed the Bloodborn. ‘If you are heading for your London home then you go close to Sloan Square. Please drop me there.’

  ‘Why?’ Enquired William.

  ‘It is where I dwell at the moment. In the Holy Trinity Church opposite Sloane Square. The priest there is a friend.’

  ‘Understanding priest to allow a vampire in the house of god.’