by Nick Moseley
Trev was about to start listing the reasons why he'd have preferred to go home when he heard the throaty sound of an engine outside. There was a clunk and the double doors began to whirr open.
'Shit,' Trev said. His companion had already bolted behind the nearest car and he hurried to follow suit, ducking down so that he could watch the doors without being seen.
The car that rolled smoothly down the entrance ramp was a dark purple colour and highly polished. The low rumble of the exhaust suggested a large engine. Trev guessed that it was probably a V8 of some sort. As it drew nearer he got enough of a look to identify the vehicle.
'Bloody hell, it's a '63 Chevy Corvette Sting Ray,' he whispered. The werewolf responded with a teeth-baring growl, its eyes fixed on the approaching car.
'Is it… him?' Trev asked, but the question didn't really need an answer. He shrugged. 'Well he might be an evil vampire, but I can't fault his taste in cars.'
The Corvette rumbled to a halt in space number twenty-nine and the engine was abruptly silenced. Trev crouched lower, groping for his weapons and wondering what to do next.
He heard the car's door open, then an amused-sounding voice rang out.
'Trevor Irwin! You may as well show yourself, I know you're in here.'
Thirty-Nine
'Bollocks,' breathed Trev. The werewolf gave him a resigned look with its all-too-human eyes and performed a canine shrug. Trev nodded. 'Yeah, I did come here to talk to him, I suppose.' He stood up, dropping his right hand onto Caladbolg's hilt as he did so.
Corbyn stood leaning calmly against his car, his elbows resting on the top of the open driver's door. His apparent age was mid-twenties, although Trev knew he had to be much older than that. He was around six feet tall and slim, with a wiry build that suggested he was probably stronger than he looked. His face was too angular to be classically handsome, especially set as it was in a world-class sneer, but Trev reckoned that the vampire did pretty well with the ladies nonetheless. A pair of shrewd, pale blue eyes performed a reciprocal inspection of Trev from under a shock of unruly red hair.
'You're Trevor then,' Corbyn said. The sneer deepened. 'Nice jacket.'
Corbyn himself was dressed as if he was the front man for a late-70's punk band who'd accidentally fallen through a time-warp to the present day. He wore a black military-style jacket with red epaulettes over a scarlet t-shirt emblazoned with the circle-A symbol. Tapered black jeans led down to a pair of bulky motorcycle boots.
'Cheers,' replied Trev. 'Nice car.'
'I know.' Corbyn stepped forward and closed the Corvette's door. Trev held his ground. 'Wondering how I knew you were here?'
'Er, yeah.'
'CCTV outside. I had a feeling that you or the old man might turn up here, so I slipped the security guards a few quid to let me know – instead of the police – if you did. Luckily for you, I was visiting a… friend and wasn't far away.'
Trev winced. 'Bloody CCTV.'
Corbyn nodded with mock sadness. 'I'd give up on any plans you might've had for a career in burglary, if I were you.'
'Done,' said Trev. 'It's not a problem, I wanted to speak to you anyway. Feel free to finish your gloating first, though.'
Corbyn chuckled. 'That's good of you, thanks, but I think I'm done. I've been trying to cut down lately.'
'Right then. If you'll just answer a few questions for me, I'll bugger off and leave you in peace to play the church organ, turn into a bat or whatever else vampires do for fun.'
'Ask away, and I'll answer,' replied Corbyn with a shrug.
Trev frowned. Given what he'd been told about Corbyn, the vampire was being far too reasonable. 'Er. Well firstly, I want to know who employed you to abduct Steven Harvington.'
'Who?'
'The sewer worker. The ghouls saw you take him.'
Corbyn nodded understanding. 'Oh, him. I can't tell you that.'
Trev gritted his teeth. 'You said you'd answer my questions.'
'I did answer. I just didn't give you the answer you wanted. Can't help that, can I?'
'OK, I didn't think it would be that easy,' Trev admitted. He tightened his grip on Caladbolg. 'I've got to know who employed you. I'd be happier if you'd just tell me, but if you're going to be a cock about it, then…'
'Now then,' replied Corbyn, his sneer returning with a vengeance, 'that sounded kind of threatening.'
'It did, didn't it?'
'Hmm. Tell you what, I'll make you an offer. Make yourself scarce, right now, and you get to wake up tomorrow in the same room as all your limbs.'
'And if I stay?'
Corbyn gave Trev a pitying look. 'Then you won't wake up tomorrow at all.'
'You mean I get an all-day lie-in?'
'No.'
'Ah. Just wanted to be clear on what you meant.' Trev drew The Twins from their holsters but didn't activate them. 'Look, mate. I'm not going anywhere until you tell me what I need to know, and if I have to give you a kicking to persuade you, then fine.' To emphasise the point he brought both weapons to life and gave them a lazy spin in his hands. The familiar rush of confidence brought a thin smile to his lips. 'Feeling any more talkative?'
If Trev was hoping to frighten Corbyn, he was disappointed. The vampire had given the tiniest flinch when the vapour weapons flared into life, but he responded to Trev's question with a sharp bark of laughter.
'Sorry Trev, but no.' He reached into his jacket and drew out a long dagger with a silver handle. The weapon's blade was black and so slim it looked almost like a long needle.
Be very careful, lad; the vampire has a nullblade, said Caladbolg.
'Nullblade?' echoed Trev.
Corbyn, who was unable hear the vapour weapon's remark, looked surprised. 'You've seen one of these before?' he asked. 'Interesting. Maybe you're not as stupid as you look. Then again, it's hard to imagine that anyone could be as stupid as you look.'
'What's a nullblade?' Trev hissed, quietly enough that Corbyn didn't hear him.
It is a weapon that tears an opening into the void between worlds and uses it for a blade, replied Tyrfing. Deadly, but difficult to control. It uses the wielder's blood as its fuel.
Trev had no idea what Tyrfing meant, so he decided to prepare for the worst and adopted a defensive posture. Corbyn shifted his grip on the nullblade and Trev was able to see that the weapon's hilt was studded with a row of thin spikes. The vampire gritted his teeth and clamped his hand down over them. Blood immediately began to ooze out from between his fingers. Trev couldn't help but wince.
Corbyn snapped out a single word in an arcane-sounding language. It obviously held some kind of power, because there was an instant response from the nullblade. A piercing shriek reverberated through the garage and the weapon's narrow blade blurred and appeared to lengthen. It also darkened, becoming so black that it hurt Trev's eyes to look at it. Within the space of two or three seconds, Corbyn went from holding a slim dagger to holding a weapon with a three-foot blade made of pure, absolute darkness. As Tyrfing had described, the nullblade had opened a rift into another place, and Trev didn't think it was anywhere he fancied going on his holidays.
Corbyn imitated Trev's sword-twirl, the nullblade moaning through the air, and raised an eyebrow. 'Sure you want to do this? Last chance.'
'I don't want to, but you're forcing me into it,' replied Trev, circling to his left to get clear of the parked cars and into some space. 'Why don't you just tell me what I want to know? I'm going to go and kick the arse of whoever hired you, so you don't have to worry about them coming after you for blabbing.'
Corbyn frowned. 'I'm not worried about that,' he growled. 'I'm going to lose trade if I start selling out my clients to every Tom, Dick or Trevor that comes along. I've a reputation to think about.'
Trev laughed. 'Reputation? What the hell are you on about? You're a criminal, mate.'
'That depends whether you believe human laws apply to the supernatural community or not. Personally, I don't think they do.' His expression hardene
d. 'Anyway, I'm not going to stand here and argue with you, when I could be getting on with killing you.'
The attack came so quickly that despite the fact that he was already in a defensive stance, Trev only just managed to parry it. Caladbolg intercepted the nullblade a few inches before it took Trev's head off. The lightning-blade fizzed and sparked at the point of impact, and Trev could clearly feel some of the energy being drained away by the nullblade. He shoved Corbyn's weapon away to the side, following up with a counter-attack using Tyrfing which the vampire had to move sharply to avoid.
Caladbolg's blade sputtered a little. Alarmed, Trev fed some more energy into the weapon to replace the quantity that had been drawn off by the nullblade.
Corbyn grinned at him. 'Worried?' he asked. 'Anything a nullblade touches gets dragged into the void. Metal, flesh, even raw energy… it all gets swallowed up.' To illustrate his point, he drew the weapon across the nearest pillar. It left a deep groove in the surface, not digging out the concrete but simply removing it. Not as much as a speck of dust fell from the gouge. 'How long do you think you can block my attacks when I'm stealing a bit more of your power each time?'
It's a fair point, lad, said Caladbolg. Have a care with this one, he'll try and wear you down if he can.
'How am I supposed to beat him then?' muttered Trev. He moved to his right, keeping his distance from Corbyn. The vampire stood in a relaxed posture, smiling smugly. He beckoned to Trev.
He hopes to lure you into a reckless attack, observed Tyrfing. You must not be fooled in this way.
Trev gritted his teeth. 'You're not helping, people.'
Disarm him or cripple him, said Caladbolg. Don't fence with him.
'Right,' said Trev, rolling his eyes. 'Easy as.'
'Stop muttering to yourself and get on with it,' snapped Corbyn, his self-satisfied expression giving way to one of frustration. 'I want to get a couple of hours in at the casino after this.'
'I'm waiting for you, you retro twat-bag,' replied Trev. 'By the way, did nobody tell you that punk's been dead since about nineteen-eighty?'
Corbyn sighed. 'OK, now I'm annoyed, and that means this isn't going to be quick for you.'
He sprang forward, slashing the nullblade upward in a strike that would've taken Trev's arm off at the elbow if he hadn't been prepared for it. He reacted smartly, shifting to the side and whipping Tyrfing out at Corbyn's sword-arm in an attempt to knock the vampire's weapon away. The counter-attack almost succeeded, but Corbyn managed to twist away at the expense of his jacket. Tyrfing opened a long rip in it from shoulder to hip.
'Bastard!' howled Corbyn. 'This jacket's a one-off!'
'You're a punk,' growled Trev. 'Aren't your clothes supposed to be ripped?'
The vampire swept into the attack again. He was frighteningly fast, and Trev had no option but to parry the back-handed blow that was swung at him. Caladbolg fizzed again as the blades met, and Trev felt a twinge of numbness in his arm as another chunk of energy was stripped out of him. Corbyn spun away out of range, laughing at his opponent's obvious discomfort.
'That's another bit gone,' he said. 'Drip, drip, drip.'
Trev shook his arm, trying to get the feeling back. Corbyn made a feint toward him, then bounded onto the roof of a nearby car. Trev swivelled on the spot, tracking the vampire's movements as he leapt from one car to the next, cackling.
'Come on,' Trev spat. 'Stop mincing around like you're an extra in Cats.'
Corbyn was quick to oblige him, vaulting off the top of a white van and into a spiralling attack. Trev let rip with an inarticulate cry and stepped forward, meeting the vampire head on. Instead of trying to take the full force of the strike on the edge of his blade as he'd done previously, Trev angled Tyrfing so that the nullblade was deflected away from him. He still felt the unpleasant tug of energy leaving his weapon, but the blow was a glancing one and didn't affect him as badly.
Having expected Trev to stand and block his attack, Corbyn found he had over-reached himself. As the nullblade was deflected off Tyrfing he stumbled, unable to check his momentum. The average human would've fallen on his face but Corbyn, with his heightened reflexes and balance, managed to turn the stumble into a shoulder roll and was back on his feet as Trev tried to follow up his advantage.
Caladbolg and Tyrfing crashed against the vampire's weapon as Trev tried to drive it out of his grasp. There was a loud crack as the blades met, along with an eruption of sparks. The force of the impact flung the two combatants away from each other. Arms windmilling as he tried to retain his footing, Trev whacked his hand against one of the parked cars and Caladbolg flew out of his grip. The lightning-blade, already flickering after the impact with Corbyn's weapon, fizzed and went out.
Trev lost his one-sided battle with gravity and landed hard on the concrete, winding himself and bumping his head. Dazed, he lay and watched blearily as Corbyn staggered against the nearby van. The vampire was grappling with the nullblade, which was twisting and writhing on its hilt as if it were trying to escape.
He is vulnerable! snapped Tyrfing. He cannot fully control the nullblade. The burst of energy from the last blow has made the weapon unstable, you must strike now!
'Bleh,' mumbled Trev. He blinked in an attempt to clear his vision and tried to stand up. Unfortunately some rogue appeared to have stolen his legs and replaced them with two lengths of rope, because all he could do was scrabble feebly with his feet.
'There,' growled Corbyn. Trev turned his swimming eyes to the vampire, who had managed to get the nullblade under control and was stalking toward him. 'Not a bad effort, Trev, but it's time to put you out of my misery.'
He lengthened his stride and jumped high into the air, springing at the incapacitated Trev with the nullblade held above his head, ready to deliver the coup de grace. Trev watched blankly, struggling to raise Tyrfing in a last-ditch gesture of defiance.
The werewolf struck Corbyn at the apex of his leap. All Trev saw was a snarling brown blur, and the next thing he knew his assailant had vanished through the rear windscreen of a Volvo estate car. The werewolf thumped into the tailgate with a loud yelp and dropped to the floor.
Get up! roared Tyrfing, giving Trev a shock of power up his arm. With an effort he rolled over and got onto his hands and knees. Caladbolg lay on the concrete a few yards away. Rising to his feet, Trev shambled towards the weapon.
There was a warning bark from the werewolf, followed by the sound of breaking glass as Corbyn extricated himself from the stricken Volvo. Trev reached Caladbolg, groped the weapon into his hand and activated it.
Having both The Twins under his control again helped Trev shake off the worst of his dizziness and he turned to see a bloodied Corbyn dragging himself out of the car's passenger-side window. The werewolf was back on its feet and was limping away from him.
'Come back here, doggie,' spat the vampire. He brandished the nullblade. 'I want to play fetch.'
'I'll have a go, if you like,' said Trev, moving to interpose himself between the two.
'Be my guest,' replied Corbyn. He lunged forwards. Remembering what Tyrfing had told him about a powerful jolt destabilising Corbyn's control of the nullblade, Trev dredged up all the energy he had and threw The Twins against his opponent's weapon.
The result was an explosion of sparks that wouldn't have looked out of place on November the fifth. This time Trev had anticipated the recoil and was able to roll with it, ending up on the bonnet of a car and picking up another couple of bruises for his collection. His arms spasmed painfully and he winced as he re-gripped his weapons, trying not to drop them.
Corbyn screamed. He was wrestling with the nullblade again, but Trev could immediately see that he was losing. The opening into the void had lost its defined blade-shape and was widening, spreading. It overflowed the weapon's hilt and Corbyn screamed again as it took his first two fingers off at the knuckle.
'Shut it off, you idiot!' shouted Trev, horrified.
Shaking uncontrollably, Corbyn shrieked the
same strange word he had used to activate the nullblade. There was a whoosh of air and the opening blurred, flickered and closed. Corbyn dropped to his knees, clutching his maimed hand. The remains of the nullblade's hilt clattered down next to him.
'We could've avoided all this if you'd just told me what I wanted to know,' said Trev, sliding off the bonnet and advancing on the injured vampire.
'Piss off,' gasped Corbyn.
'Give me a blood oath, now,' said Trev, 'that you'll answer my questions truthfully, and I'll let you go. Alternatively…' he extended his arm so that Caladbolg's blade was inches from Corbyn's throat.
'All right, all right,' the vampire replied. He looked dejected and beaten, but Trev couldn't miss the hatred in his eyes. Another day, another enemy made, he thought.
As the Colonel had done, Corbyn made a cut in his wrist and smeared some of the blood across his lips.
'By my blood I swear that I shall answer your questions truthfully in exchange for safe conduct. This obligation ends when you leave this place.'
'Fine,' said Trev.
'Get on with it then.'
Trev nodded. 'Firstly, who hired you to abduct the sewer worker, Steven Harvington?'
Corbyn looked up at him. 'Kolley,' he replied. 'It was Alastair Kolley.'
Forty
'What?' said Trev in disbelief. 'Come on, mate. You'll have to do better than that.'
'Blood oath, mate,' shot back Corbyn. 'I don't give two shits whether you believe me or not, but it's the truth.'
'Why the hell would Kolley hire a man to kill himself?' asked Trev. 'It makes no sense. You're sure it was him?'
'No doubt about it,' said Corbyn. 'He made a half-arsed go at disguising himself with a baseball cap and sunglasses, but it was him all right.'
Trev shook his head. 'I don't get it,' he said. 'If the bloke wanted to kill himself, it seems a bit of an elaborate way to do it.'
'Not very bright, are you?' muttered Corbyn, examining his mutilated hand. Trev observed that that the bleeding had already stopped.