I nodded. More to test how my pain was receding than anything else. “Don’t mention it.”
Adjusting my position made me realize for the first time that I was still shirtless. At least I wasn’t naked. Hurrah for good news. “So how long have you been Appollonia’s prisoner, and what did you do to deserve it?”
“It has been almost a half of a year since I tried to kill her and she took me captive.” A shudder chased itself through his form. “It has seemed like an eternity. She is fond of her cat-o’-nine. She brings me to the end of my endurance, lets me heal, and then starts again.”
I pulled up my pants leg and found that my knife was still there. I slid it from its sheath. The blade was blackened, but the silver wire hammered into it glimmered in the dim light. I wished I still had the phosphorus grenades that were in my jacket pockets upstairs. They had been plan C. If I couldn’t kill Appollonia or save Larson’s family, I would have pulled them out and burned this place to the ground. If Larson’s family was dead when we got here, I would have let him do it. Ah well, that plan had all gone to hell.
“That sounds like a crappy way to spend a Saturday.” I pushed up to try to stand and my brain rebelled. Nah, it didn’t rebel, it threw a fucking bloody coup. Pain roared back inside my skull and my vision swam in black spots. Okay, okay, I’ll sit here for a few more minutes. When I could open my eyes, I found Longinus watching me. “Tell me how she got the drop on you?”
“When I attacked I was unaware she could control other vampires. Before I could deal the deathblow, one of her minions put me down.”
“So, what are you? No normal human can take the damage you have on your back and live, much less go through it for six months. Queen Hell-bitch said something about you being cursed?”
A sharp laugh, like a cough, escaped his lips. “I am human. I am under a curse to walk the earth until Judgment. I can take Appollonia’s abuse forever and still live on.”
Wait. I had heard this story. My brain worked against the ache to find the memory. I had read about a Longinus before. “Are you telling me you are the Wandering Jew? Longinus who pierced the side of Christ at the crucifixion and was cursed by God with immortality?”
“I am not Hebrew. I am from the Isle of Albion, England today, but I am the Longinus you speak of.”
Setting the knife aside, I pulled my hands up to my temples and began massaging them. The ache kept easing up little by little. It was getting better, but slowly. “Why don’t you tell me about it.”
“It is a long story.”
My fingers kept moving in small circles. “Trust me, we have a few minutes before I’ll be able to blow this Popsicle stand.” Pain from my eye throbbed as I rubbed too briskly near where I had been cracked across the face. “Go ahead, I would like to hear it.”
Longinus sat up straighter, crossing his legs. He gave his own wince of pain. It took a moment for him to settle in, but then he leaned forward, placed his elbows on his knees, and began to speak. “I was born over two thousand years ago in what is now called Scotland. When I was fifteen years old I left my homeland and traveled to join the Roman army.”
Pride swelled his voice, making it fuller. “With the army, I traveled the world. Exotic locations became my home. I was young, strong, and a part of the greatest army to ever exist. I swaggered the streets of wherever we were full of confidence. I gladly took part in all the pleasures being a Roman soldier afforded me.”
His voice got quiet. Shame bowed his shoulders, causing him to tremble. “Drunkenness, sexual perversion, worshipping idols, blood rituals, I enjoyed them all.” There was a desperate sense of sorrow that rolled off of him. I kept quiet, not wanting to interrupt. “I was so arrogant. So damn stupid when I was sent to Jerusalem where I continued my hedonistic ways. I was hungover the day they brought Christ to us at the Hill of the Skull for crucifixion.” His eyes turned to me, looking for comprehension. “Understand that, to me, He was simply a political upriser being put to death. This was nothing uncommon. I had heard of Him, but had never seen Him or heard Him speak.”
I stood watching his agony and worried about my own throbbing skull. Eyes closed with the pain of the memory, he paused. I watched him carefully, waiting for the rest of the story. Long minutes passed. When his mouth opened again, his eyes stayed closed. His voice was soft and controlled.
“We hung Him on the cross, as was our job. A crowd was gathered and we stood to keep them at bay. After hanging for hours He began to die. The sky overhead darkened and the sun went away. My commander became frightened and ordered me to make sure Christ was indeed dead.” Longinus swallowed a deep breath, eyes still shut against the memory, but he kept going. The next words were so bitter I could almost taste them.
“I took my lance and shoved it between His ribs into His heart. He had already died, so blood and water poured down my lance splashing onto my hand.” Agony stamped on his face and his eyes flew open, he moved to his knees. Fiercely, he leaned in and gestured, eyes flashing, fist clenched.
“I took His blood and put it to my mouth, as I had many others in my sin. My arrogance! I actually thought to myself, ‘So this is what the blood of a god tastes like.’” Thick hair stuck to his cheeks with the tears that streamed freely. His body collapsed forward. His head hung in shame.
“The ground shook and heaved and I felt the voice of God Almighty like thunder in my bones. He cursed me. The Curse of God seared into my soul, writ on the bones of my body, sealed into my flesh. For my arrogance and blasphemy He cursed me to live in the darkness, survive on blood alone, and to only know death at the point of my own spear.”
Longinus was almost prone on the floor. Silence filled the room. I didn’t know what to say. Even for me it isn’t every day you are confronted with a living myth. I thought about all that he had said. The implications of it all.
Softly, I asked the question that was forefront in my mind, “Are you a vampire, then? With the blood, the sunlight, and the immortal thing, it sounds like it.”
Raising his hand, he wiped the tears from his cheeks. “No, I am not undead. I am still human. I can be in the sun, but it causes me agony. I do need blood, but I am not a vampire. They are my second great sin.”
“What the hell do you mean by that?”
He pushed himself back upright. The movement brought a grunt of pain from him. “One night, after a hundred years of wandering, I attacked a criminal outside of an inn. He fought back and injured me, but I managed to overcome him and take my fill of his blood. I felt him die, but our blood had mixed in the fighting and he resurrected.”
Guilt burned in his eyes, pulling the skin around them tight.
“When he came back to life he was like me. He ran away, but it put the thought in my mind that I could make another like myself. I did it again, attacking someone, mixing our blood, and killing them. Each time they came back like me, but evil, twisted. It did not matter if I chose a criminal or a saint. I abandoned trying after only a few attempts, but Pandora’s box had been opened.”
I could see his shame, but he still faced me. “I created the first vampires and began the undead blight of humanity.”
“Let me get this straight.” I looked him in the eye. “You made another of you, but different. You bit someone, then they bit two friends, and they bit two friends, and so on and so on until you have today’s vampires? Is that what I hear you saying?”
Longinus nodded.
“Well, you really shit the bed on that one, didn’t you?” His mouth tightened into a grimace. “That is why I walk the earth, hunting vampires and destroying them. If I can atone for my sin, my hope is that God will lift my Curse and I can be at peace.”
I got that. I could understand that. It was similar to my reason for hunting monsters. It wasn’t seeking redemption for me. Then again, maybe it was in a way. If I had been there that night, my family may still be alive, and if not, then I would have at least gone with them.
Something occurred to me about Longinus’s sto
ry, something horrifying. “So is it the Spear of Destiny that crazy dead bitch has?” A nod was his answer. That explained a lot. It explained why she was so damn powerful and why when I knocked it out of her hand earlier the other vamps started moving.
The Spear of Destiny has been a legendary relic, second only to the Holy Grail. According to the legend, the bearer of the Spear was to gain power and ability beyond measure. I would have called bullshit on the very idea, but here I was faced with living, breathing proof that the legend was true.
“Is the Spear how she can control so many vampires, or was she this powerful when you went up against her?” I asked.
“It is the Spear’s doing,” he said. “When I first faced her, she controlled only a few. Now she travels the country gathering vampires in her thrall, forming an army to enslave the human race. The Spear extends her power and evil almost infinitely.”
This was bad. This was really, really, incredibly bad. The only thing that kept vampires from taking over was the very fact that they could not get along and work together. Appollonia controlling them all would make it not just possible, but a foregone conclusion.
“We need to get that Spear back and kill this bitch.” Pushing against the wall, I stood up. No nausea or black spots. My head still ached to high heaven, and my vision was a bit blurry in my swollen eye, but I could move and function. I looked down at Longinus and held out my hand. “You coming?”
He stared at me for a moment and then looked at my outstretched hand. Nodding once, he reached out and took it. The palm of his hand slid past mine until his fingers closed around my wrist. The grip was light and shaky. Pulling up as he stood, I helped him to his feet. It took a lot of effort, but at the end he was upright even if he did sway a bit side to side. We waited a moment while deep, rasping breaths pulled air into his lungs. I didn’t mind. The work of helping him had brought back the pain in my head, so I didn’t mind waiting. My vision was still relatively clear, though.
The knife was bare in my hand when the door to the room began to open. Turning away, I slid the blade into the laces on the sides of my leather pants. If no one was looking closely, then they would not see it in the dim light. Charlotte stepped into the room followed by a vampire.
“Appollonia has sent me to fetch both of you.”
Well, well, let’s see where the night goes from here.
19
We followed Charlotte into the hallway. Longinus was actually walking. Considering the damage I had seen on his back, it was surprising he could even move, but with the spiderweb bandage he didn’t even need anyone’s help. Pain haunted his eyes with each step and he was moving as slow as Christmas, but he moved on his own. I was glad because it kept my hands free. Longinus was directly behind Charlotte, I was behind him, and bringing up the rear was a vampire who walked with the jingle of spurs.
The vampire in question was not as tall as I and he was thin as a whip. A battered black cowboy hat sat on top of salt and pepper hair that hung shaggy over the collar of a western-style shirt. A beautiful chrome Colt .45 revolver slung low over narrow hips. Western Jim’s undead eyes stared blankly at the back of my skull.
There was nobody home in those eyes. If a vampire isn’t in full-on predator mode where their fangs distend, they actually look pretty normal. When they are newly turned, they still have the habits of humanity that carry over, and as they age they learn to camouflage themselves to get next to their prey. This vampire was almost like a zombie. No recognition in his eyes, no illusion of life. He walked behind me stiffly, just following orders. This is what Appollonia did to the bloodsuckers she controlled.
I didn’t know if she had sent Western Jim to make a point to me, but his presence answered a lot of my questions. I had to assume that he had gone up against Appollonia and lost out just like Longinus had. Once turned, she had likely used his knowledge of me to set the trap that started all of this. He probably had a file on me and a plan to take me out if I ever was taken over by some ghoulie. I know I had one on him. It’s a sign of mutual respect. Thankfully, I was the only monster hunter between here and Texas.
I could see that he would have known me well enough to use a girl who looked like my daughter to distract me, then to set me up where I would have to not only keep myself alive, but watch out for Larson’s ass too. It made sense now. It didn’t work, because he had either underestimated me or Larson, or he had left me the wiggle room to survive so I could stop this, or Appollonia was crap at translating his plans into action. At the end of the day, it didn’t really matter. Now I would find a way to lay my friend to rest before this was over.
The hallway itself wasn’t very long. One incandescent bulb glared its yellow light from a broken fixture in the ceiling. The shadows it cast were deep and black. There were other closed doors along the hallway and stairs leading up on one end. Charlotte was leading us to those stairs.
“Charlotte?”
The spider lady spun on one foot, turning to me. The movement was graceful, like a ballerina. Unblinking eyes looked at me from a head on a tilted neck. She arched all the eyebrows on all the eyes on the left side of her face in question to me. “Are there any other people in these rooms?”
Full lips made a sad smile and she shook her head. “No, Appollonia has taken no prisoners besides you and Longinus. Any others are used for food and then turned for her army.”
That made the rescue plan simpler. I know she was on the side of the monsters, but I trusted Charlotte. More I trusted that she was not working for Appollonia willingly and would help us if she could. Her head tilted and that long-fingered arm reached out to softly touch my shoulder.
“Thank you for what you did with Matthias.” Her voice was low, almost a whisper. “He was in control when Appollonia would sleep. He was”—a shudder passed through her shoulders, vibrating the furry fingers touching me—“he was a perverse man. I am glad he will be of no use to her now.”
I had held that cloak of human skin in my hands. I could only imagine what kind of evil he would be if he was in complete control. If I had known that, I would have threatened to cut his manhood off. The nod I gave her was short.
Turning back, she began walking to the stairs. Her red dress was cut low in the back to allow the four spider legs room to curl together. There was a patch of webbing under them at the small of her back. As we started up, Longinus began to make small grunting noises with each step. When you are injured, it takes a lot more to go up or down steps than it does to walk a flat surface. Twice he got unsteady and I held him up by his arm. He nodded in thanks and I took the second to mouth to him to be ready. He gave another nod and continued up the stairs.
At the top, we entered the vestibule of the church where we first came in. I thought I knew the layout and I was right. We had been in the Sunday school department, which was at the bottom of the stairs that led down. I was pretty sure the stairs that led up went to the steeple. The vestibule was the same—covered in spiderwebs and still creepy as hell. The doors to the outside were closed, as were the doors to the sanctuary.
Charlotte led us toward the sanctuary doors and I slowed my steps slightly so that I drifted back, closer to the cowboy vampire. My fingers casually draped over the handle of the knife I had hidden in the laces of my pants. I stopped walking, bracing myself. Western Jim bumped into my back and rocked back on the heels of his boots, making those silver spurs jangle. I took a deep breath and struck.
The blade of the knife ripped free of the laces in my pants and streaked through the air. Spinning, I drove the knife as hard as I could. The blade lodged in the vampire’s neck and scraped on the bone of his spinal cord. Black blood shot out of the wound, splashing me across the face. It was thick, cool, and sticky. Cursing, I wiped my eyes so I could see.
I let go of the knife in the other hand and grabbed the western-style bolo tie around his neck. His eyes were bulging out and his fingers scrabbled at his throat, trying to dislodge the knife. Snatching his Colt from its holster, I sh
oved him away. The six-gun was a single action and the rough hammer bit my palm as I slapped it back. Four pulls of the trigger and four slaps on the hammer pumped four bullets into Western Jim’s chest. Blood burst from his sternum as the silver bullets shredded his undead heart. The impact of the bullets pushed him into Charlotte, who was just turning to see what was happening. Stumbling into her, the vampire knocked her off her feet. I used the moment of distraction to put the last two bullets into my dead friend’s skull. He collapsed into himself, leaving nothing behind but his boots, a pile of clothes, his hat, and his gun belt on a pile of dust.
Via con Dios, my friend.
I shoved the six-gun in my waistband; the barrel was hot against my hip. I grabbed Longinus by the arm, dragging him to the outside doors. My shoulder slammed into them and they did not open. Dammit! The back of my head began to grow hot with rising power and I knew Appollonia was on to my escape attempt. Leaning back, I planted my foot against the door with all my weight. It slammed open, crashing against the wall. Jerking Longinus in front of me, I shoved him out the door. I took only one step out onto the front landing of the church when two things happened at once that threw me down the stairs ass over teakettle.
Charlotte landed on my back and rode me to the ground, and the doors to the sanctuary behind me exploded with the force of Appollonia’s fury. Her vampire rage rolled out of the sanctuary like thunder. It was a giant fist slamming into me. Thankfully, Charlotte was on my back and took the brunt of the force. The power hit so hard it flipped me over, tossing her off my back and me down the stairs. The searing tear of flesh being abraded flared across my kidneys as I skidded down the concrete steps. My lower back with no shirt on had the top layer of skin scraped away by the concrete. My ass was fine because of the leather pants, but my lower back took a beating. I stopped tumbling on the ground in front of the church and lay for a second with my face in the mud.
Blood and Bullets Page 19