Blood Bath & Beyond

by Michelle Rowen

  I wouldn’t be able to get past him to get to the locked door. It wouldn’t do me any good anyway, unless I managed to break it. I was stronger now compared with my previous human self, but I’d neglected to eat my spinach today to help me bust down a door right in front of a vampire with a crossbow aimed at me.

  Instead, I was off the floor and tearing through the store in the opposite direction as fast as I could run. I banged my leg against a shelf and it hurt like hell. Although not nearly as much as one of those wooden stakes would hurt if it found its target.

  I raced up the staircase to the second floor before he’d gotten to the count of four and I dove beneath an animatronic Addams Family dinner table. I didn’t think this would be a good spot for very long. He’d find me. Also, it was very dusty. A sneeze felt imminent and I clamped my hands over my nose.

  One good thing was that this place was huge and jam-packed full of merchandise. It was a veritable vampiric maze I could lose myself in for days and still not see everything. I had a decent view, although nothing higher than hip level from where I now crouched. A cold line of perspiration slid down my spine and I tried my best not to tremble in fear for my life.

  It goes without saying, really, but this was bad. I didn’t need a memo to tell me that. I’d honestly not suspected Josh—Vlad—for a moment. I’d been looking for people who were shady, who acted suspicious. Not someone who seemed friendly, but unlucky. I’d sensed a whole lot of good in Josh. He had a blood bank. He wanted to help make things easier for the local vampires.

  Still a business, though, wasn’t it? It wasn’t as if he was giving the red stuff away for free. And he wanted it to be successful, just like everything else.

  Two other blood banks—the strip club and the rooftop patio—had both closed up due to tragedy. Fire and murder, respectively.

  He’d all but blatantly admitted to killing one of the rooftop owners with a crossbow. Did I want to lay any further bets on who might be responsible for the ultimate demise of both places? And what might be the fate of the blood banks that had just opened up to take more business away from this one?

  Josh was a bad businessman, an unlucky investor, and an unrepentant killer. Not necessarily in that order. And I was currently stuck in a locked store with him on the hunt for me.

  “Sarah!” I heard him on the first floor, the opposite side near the cash registers. “I’ll find you!”

  Was he crazy, too? Did he have some sort of split personality—Josh the nice guy and Vlad the killer? I wasn’t so sure about that. I think he’d been pushed so far that he didn’t know what was right and what was wrong. This? This was wrong. In case there was any doubt in the matter.

  I slowly eased out a little from under the table and looked up at Morticia Addams’s waxy face, but she had no words of wisdom for me. The plug to her display was pulled out from the wall socket and cast aside. She was out of commission for the day.

  I really hoped only one of us got unplugged tonight.

  Downstairs, when he’d talked about the two kinds of people in the world, it made me think immediately of Laura. We might look a lot alike and have been in similar situations with master vampires—on the surface, anyway. But we couldn’t be more different underneath. She relied on Bernard to support her, to protect her, and yet she didn’t need him for more than that. She’d had other lovers over the years. The man she’d chosen to marry was only a means to an end. A strategic decision that she’d hoped would lead to a better future as she continued on in her boat with no oars.

  Bottom line, Laura didn’t know what she wanted—at least not until it was taken away from her.

  If Laura were here, I had no doubt at all what she would do. She would beg for her life. She would bargain. She would flirt. And then, if all of that failed, she would accept that this was the end for her because she was outmatched in strength and cunning. She would know there was no other choice for her but death.

  If she’d gotten here and hidden under this table, this was where I knew she’d wait, shivering and crying, until Josh finally made his way up here, aimed his crossbow at her chest, and snuffed out a problem that had raised its tangled bed-head.

  While I didn’t like the situation I’d found myself in, I appreciated that it had helped me see the truth with my own two eyes.

  Laura and I were nothing alike. And I sure as hell wasn’t going to die here.

  Well, maybe I was, but it wouldn’t be through lack of trying not to.

  I needed to find an exit—and there had to be another one here other than the front door customers used. The last thing I wanted to do was go mano a mano with Vladimir Nosferatu.

  Which, for the record, was a really stupid name.

  I slid out from under the table and scanned the shelves around me, searching for something that might help. It didn’t take too long until I found it.

  “Well, hello there, pretty,” I whispered, curling my hand around a carved wooden stake. There was a pile of them and it looked like a very dangerous display to someone like me, but at the moment I was incredibly grateful for it. It was sharp. It was deadly.

  It was my new best friend.

  I now felt just a little less terrified.

  Slowly, keeping my eyes and ears peeled for any movement or sound, I edged across the floor toward the railing overlooking the rest of the store.

  Suddenly, music blasted out of the speakers so loud I clamped my hands over my ears, narrowly avoiding stabbing myself with the stake. It was the organ music—very Phantom of the Opera—that usually piped into the store, but now it was way louder than normal. I couldn’t hear anything else.

  But, in a way, that didn’t help Josh, either. If I couldn’t hear him over this noise, he couldn’t hear me.

  Yeah, smooth move there, loser.

  I headed down an aisle, keeping low. I wanted to find some sort of shield, something I could slip under my tank top to work as body armor so a thin wooden stake hurtling through the air might not kill me.

  I just wished I knew where Josh was lurking right now. And with the music blasting, I could barely hear myself think.

  All I focused on was my next step, keeping my eyes peeled for anything or anyone. I could get out of here. It wasn’t too late for me.

  I wasn’t Laura DuShaw and I never wanted to be. She didn’t face her problems head-on and deal with them. She avoided. She evaded. She hid.

  Then again, none of her problems had been carrying a crossbow.

  Where was he? Was he lurking in the shadows? Did he have me in his sights already? Or was he watching on the closed-circuit security system?

  I reached the end of an aisle filled with wax fangs and vampire-themed candy. There were even tiny vials of syrup that looked like blood and cans of something called “coffin juice.”

  Gag.

  Stake clutched tightly in my right hand, so tightly that I began to feel a blister forming, I peeked around the corner. My head ached from the music reverberating in my skull. Would a nearby store notice how strange this was? Or was this place soundproof, so nobody would notice anything but a shop that had closed up early for the night?

  While I kept my attention straight forward and to the sides, I wasn’t paying enough attention to what might be behind me. I didn’t even hear him coming—or sense it on any level—before a hand clamped down over my mouth and an iron bar of an arm crushed across my chest, trapping my arms. I screamed, but it was muffled. I couldn’t even move enough to attempt to stab at him with my stake, because he was too strong, stronger than I ever could have guessed. I was literally dragged backward into an alcove behind me, the rubber soles of my Keds squeaking against the linoleum floor as I struggled to break free.

  The new area I’d found myself in was made up to look like a tiny cemetery with an iron gate and everything. All I saw was a tombstone that read: “Who Turned Out the Lights?”

  He finally released me and I spun around, ready to plunge my stake deep into his chest.

  Chapter 21
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  I stopped myself before I did any plunging.

  It was Thierry.

  The surprise and relief at seeing him was so big it stole my breath completely. His attention wasn’t on me, though; it was on the dark store beyond. I just stared at him with shock, unable to concentrate enough over the blaring noise to figure out how this was even possible.

  Then, the very next moment, the music cut out and the store was plunged into eerie silence. For a few seconds my head rang from the organ music and I heard an echoing static before it faded. It was the equivalent of my ears screaming in pain.

  Thierry looked at me. “I guess he didn’t like a little background noise.”

  I worked hard to find my voice, which I kept as quiet as his. “You’re the one who turned on the speakers?”

  He nodded. “I thought it might make things more difficult.”

  “How are you here?” Maybe I’d been knocked unconscious again and this was just another dream. “How did you know I was in trouble?”

  “Your phone call. You sounded deeply distressed.”

  “I was. I—I am. But how did you know where to find me?”

  “You told me enough. I was able to figure it out.”

  “You figured it out from ‘Blo’?” I blinked. He would seriously kick butt at Wheel of Fortune.

  “You mentioned Josh’s name. I know he owns this place—he was your connection to Kristopher. It wasn’t difficult to piece it together. I got here as quickly as I could and came in through the side door. Or—well, it’s more of a side hole at the moment. That’s where we need to get back to right now. It’s our closest exit.”

  I reached out to touch his chest as if to prove to myself he was really here. Black suit, warm skin, slow but steady heartbeat. Check, check, and check. It still felt utterly surreal to see him in front of me right now and I could barely believe this was really happening. “Josh…he—he’s the serial killer. He’s been leaving dead bodies all over town to get publicity for himself…for this store. He’s trying to make vampires scary again.”

  His expression was tense. “Did you know that when you came here?”

  “No, of course not.”

  He sighed as he gently touched my face, his eyes searching mine. “So when you said you would go somewhere safe for an hour…”

  I grimaced. “Trust me—my intentions were good.”

  “I’m sure they were. We need to leave here. Now.” He reached down to take my hand in his. “Just be careful where you point that thing.”

  I looked at my stake. “I know. It’s freaking me out, too.”

  Swiftly, we began moving across the second level toward the stairs. I’d have guessed this would be the trickiest part of making our escape, but Thierry moved very fast and I had to scramble to keep up with him. Taking two stairs at a time, we were back on the main level in a matter of seconds.

  Josh had still been in the store in order to turn off the music. Maybe he was gone now that he knew I wasn’t alone. We moved past the coffin display room, beyond which was the Starbucks blood bank. Past more shelves and wax statues. I could see the heavy metal side door. Although it wasn’t really a door anymore. It had been ripped clear off its hinges and thrown to the ground.

  Sometimes Thierry surprised me by the things he could do. Door ripping definitely went in the column of “good” surprises.

  A moment later, Thierry stumbled forward and let go of my hand.

  That was another surprise—a bad one. Thierry never stumbled.

  “Get to the exit, Sarah,” he said. “Go now.”

  “What’s wrong?”

  He didn’t have to answer me before I saw the problem and it made a scream catch in my throat. There was a wooden stake—a small thin one—sticking out of his back just right of his shoulder blade. No, make that three—two others were deeply embedded in each of his hamstrings. That’s what tripped him up. Another stake rocketed through the air and hit him in the shoulder; it was followed in quick succession by two more that hit him in the stomach as he turned around.

  Damn it. Josh was close. Close enough to see us. Close enough to prevent us from getting anywhere near the door. And, currently, I wasn’t his main target.

  “Do you hear me?” Thierry growled. “Get out of here.”

  Instead, I grabbed hold of his arm and dragged him into the closest aisle. Then I quickly worked to yank out the stakes that were causing him pain and zapping his strength. I threw them to the side so he could start healing his injuries. I didn’t have enough time to feel squeamish or second-guess what I was doing. I did, however, have plenty of time to feel terrified down to the marrow in my bones.

  “Sarah, why the hell are you still here?” He sounded angry with me.

  “Shut up, Thierry,” I snapped, angry right back at him. It helped shove the fear to the side a little. “Just shut up. I’m not leaving you. What part of that do you continually fail to understand?”

  He glared at me. “All of it. The exit is right there. I was blocking you so you could make a run for it.”

  “Yeah, blocking me with your own damn body. Nice try. But, sorry, you’re not going to die for me today.”

  “Honestly, woman, you drive me completely crazy.”

  “The feeling is mutual. Now just stay right here.” I could already see he was trying to get to his feet, but failing. He hadn’t had enough time to heal, and those stakes were more dangerous than they looked. Wood, just like silver, would zap his strength and stamina down several notches while his body diverted its energy to heal itself. I silently thanked God that Josh seemed to be a lousy shot and had missed his heart. I didn’t want to give him any more opportunities to practice his aim.

  I peered around the corner to see that Josh was standing a dozen feet away in the center of the hallway blocking the exit. He hadn’t come after us since he was currently having trouble with his crossbow.

  “Faulty merchandise?” I asked.

  His gaze tracked to me and a cold smile snaked across his face. “It’s sticking a bit.”

  “Sorry to hear that. Maybe you can get a refund.”

  “I doubt it. It’s out of the box. The boss here is a real jerk when it comes to returns.”

  “I know he’s an jerk. A murderer. A real sociopath, actually. And I’d be willing to bet he’s a lousy magician.”

  His eyes narrowed. “Maybe he’s just someone who does what he has to do.”

  “That makes two of us.”

  “Your boyfriend came here to save you. Isn’t that romantic?” The sarcasm dripped from every word.

  “It is. And he’s not my boyfriend. Despite my missing-in-action ring, he’s my fiancé.”

  “Semantics.” His grin held. He wasn’t worried one little bit about any threat someone like me might pose to him. He continued fiddling with the weapon. “So did you come to any conclusions about what kind of a person you are, Sarah? A victim or a survivor?”

  “I have.”

  “Want to share before I kill both you and your fiancé? I promise to aim for the heart this time.”

  “Do I want to share?” I repeated. “I’d rather have you guess.”

  I moved so quickly that I surprised even myself. He blinked with shock to see me suddenly standing right in front of him. He probably expected that I’d try to keep my distance from someone I considered a sociopath, for me to be on the defense rather than the offense in this particular war. It was just his bad luck that I’d been watching more than my share of the History Channel recently.

  Before he had a chance to raise the crossbow again, I put every ounce of strength I had into sinking the wooden stake into his chest. Only after it had hit its target did I feel the least bit guilty that it had to come to this. But I was a survivor and to survive sometimes you needed to stop acting like a victim. It was that simple.

  He grimaced in pain and looked down at the stake now sticking out of his chest. Thierry had managed to drag himself out of the aisle to come to my side. He put his arm around
my waist and pulled me back a bit, putting himself between me and Josh.

  My hero. Even when healing up a half dozen deep puncture wounds.

  Josh staggered, and then dropped to his knees. “Well played, Sarah.”

  My eyes burned. “You were going to kill us. You gave me no choice. I’m sorry it had to come to this.”

  “Yeah, me too.” With his left hand, he yanked the stake out. It made a sickening smacking noise. “But I’m not sorry I don’t carry stakes made of real wood. This simulated plastic is really convincing, though, isn’t it? Damn, it still stings like a bitch.”

  He threw the bloody stake to the side and shakily got back up to his feet. Thierry pushed me backward, only we were now headed in the exact opposite direction of the open door.

  “So I’m guessing that you’re Thierry,” Josh said, now with a pained smile.

  “Conversation?” Thierry asked, his voice just as pained as the other man’s. “Can’t say I’m in the mood.”

  “Be a sport.”

  “No, I don’t think I will.” Thierry’s shoulders were tense and he stood tall, but I knew it was hurting him. “You threaten Sarah, I can’t be a sport with you.”

  “It’s so sweet, isn’t it? Fledgling and master. Would that still be considered a May-December romance? I guess not. You’re both Decembers at this very moment, since you’re both about to die. I have six more stakes in here and my aim is improving, especially at this distance. I’m a fast learner.” He raised his crossbow.

  I held up my hand to try to stop him. “Wait…no! Josh, please. Talk to me. We can find another solution here, I know we can.”

  “You weren’t willing to talk a minute ago when you stabbed that stake into my heart, were you?”

  He made a good point.

  I clutched Thierry’s arm, which felt like steel. He was trying his best to keep me behind him, but I knew the stakelike arrows had taken it out of him—he’d been shot not once but six times, and I knew some of the wounds were bad and would take time to heal. Longer than a few minutes, at least. I managed to stand next to him before finally and successfully nudging him backward.