Blood and Bullets (20 page)
The smile on Appollonia's face would have made a hungry tiger jealous. She took another step to me, her arm extending toward me. I stepped back out of her reach.
Her full lips turned down into a frown and a crease appeared between her eyebrows. Poisoned honey-colored eyes flashed killing daggers. “Do not mock me, Deacon. We have an agreement.”
I waggled my finger at her and pointed to the man slumped in chains at the back of the stage. The red ruin of flesh that had been his back was turning into something that looked like spoiled meat. The skin had been flayed away in large sections. Raw muscle was frayed and torn. In places the bone of his ribs and spine glistened in the one gigantic wound his back had become.
“There is still a human who needs to be set free.”
Appollonia's laughter pealed throughout the sanctuary. It grated along my nerves like ground glass. “He is not human. He has not been human for a very long time.”
Even though I did not understand her remark, I wasn't letting it slide. If she had that much wrath for anyone, then the safe bet was that they were her enemy and could be a potential ally for me. Plus, I just could not leave someone in that condition if I could stop it.
“He looks human. If he is not, then what is he?”
“He is cursed.”
Cursed? “Doesn't matter. Cursed or not, he
is
human, and if you do not take him out of here and into safety, then we have no deal and you are a liar.”
is
human, and if you do not take him out of here and into safety, then we have no deal and you are a liar.”
Spiders crawled down her arms and shoulders as she shook her head side to side. Her voice dropped a full octave into a growl. Vampiric anger rolled off of her, slapping into my skin like tiny whip cracks. “I will not give him up. He was not in our agreement.”
“He was on my part.” Standing tall, I ran my hands over my chest and stomach, trailing them down to hook my thumbs in the belt of my leather pants. My splayed fingers framed my groin. Tensing my arms brought the muscle to definition. I was putting myself on display. “If you want to touch me, then you have to honor the agreement. Otherwise, you can fuck off and forget it.” I was gambling, rolling the dice.
She weighed out my words. In her eyes she was deciding if she wanted me enough to give me what I demanded. Watching carefully, the tension built along my spine. My neck could have used a popping. If she chose to call off the deal, I was going for my coat.
After a few moments her hand motioned to Charlotte. The Were-spider came forward, small, tightly controlled steps carrying her swiftly down the aisle. “He cannot be set free, but I will have him unchained and taken to safety. If I do this, then there is no limitation on my touching you. You will be mine to explore at my leisure.”
She was evil. She was a vicious creature who stole lives. But I was pretty sure she wanted my body and not my blood. Still, to be careful, “If he is included in our agreement, there is no limit to you alone touching me.” Again, careful, I did not want her to pull some mystical vampire crap about all the vampires and Were-spiders in her control being extensions of herself.
“Agreed.” She nodded at Charlotte.
Charlotte produced a key and unlocked the shackles holding the man upright. Her four spider arms caught him as he slumped bonelessly to the floor. Lifting him as if he were weightless, she was careful to avoid his injuries as much as possible. Because his back was such a large wound she couldn't help but touch it somewhat, which brought a moan of pain from his lips. Charlotte carried him past us and I got a good look at him.
He was almost as tall as I, but thinner. Not in a scrawny way, but rangy, sinewy. His limbs were long and straight, the muscles stretching along his frame. Blue ink traced out Celtic tattoos across his chest and biceps. I recognized the designs. I had some that were similar tattooed on myself.
Thick, tawny hair surrounded his face, one thin braid of it hanging along his cheek. The rest was lank and limp. Fierce eyes shone out from sunken hollows. They were a crystalline gray that was fever bright. His features were full and European. A thick nose sat above heavy lips and a strong chin. Those fever eyes stared at me as they passed. A shaking hand fell out and touched my arm. Charlotte stopped.
“Thank you.” His voice was deep, but it rasped weak and soft, as if his throat had no moisture at all. I nodded sharply up and down at him. His hand fell away and those eyes closed. His face turned into Charlotte's breast like a hurt child would do for comfort.
I turned back to face Appollonia as he was carried away down the aisle. The moment the door shut behind Charlotte, her lips parted in a smile. Time to pay up.
Hips swaying like the pendulum of a clock, she closed the distance between us. As she moved, she shrugged out of the web robe. It fell behind her in a gossamer drift. I did not move as she stepped in front of me. She was very close, so close that her nipples brushed the tattoo on my stomach. I felt them harden as they grazed my skin. The top of her head was even with my collar bones. Taloned fingers trailed across my chest and up my neck until they stroked my beard. This close she smelled of sex. Sex and vampire and blood.
“Put your hands on me.” Her breasts pressed harder against my skin. “Caress me.”
I shook my head. “That wasn't our deal.”
The skin on her tiny forehead creased, then smoothed as that evil smile came back. “I am so glad you reminded me of our agreement.” Her hand slid along my cheek and cupped the back of my head. I felt her nails scrape along the scabs from the vampire at Gregorios's jack shack earlier. The pain prickled along my scalp. “I get to explore you.” Pressure on my head pulled me toward her as her mouth opened wide. I bent down, because as strong as I am, I am no match for a vampire, even one as tiny as she was. Our lips met and she kissed me. Soft, full lips pressed into mine and her wet tongue slid into my mouth, exploring eagerly. Her mouth was cool and moist and carrion sweet. The kiss tasted like blood, all iron and copper. Her eyes were shut as she gave herself over to the kiss. Mine were not. I grabbed her arm and pushed it away.
Pulling back, her eyes flew open, anger flaring in them.
“Watch the spear, lady.” The lance in her other hand was waving by my head as she was caught up in the kiss and I did not want to lose an ear. She nodded and moved it away from us, but still she held it.
“Why don't you return my kiss? You must desire me as I desire you.”
“Look, you're hot and all, but our agreement said nothing about me returning the favor. You do what you have to do, but I do not have to help you get there.” I was willing to take her “exploring,” but that was all. Yes, she was beautiful and sexy, but she was a vampire. I would not forget that she was an evil, bloodsucking, undead creature of the night no matter how hot she was.
“Our agreement.” There was a heat in her voice. Lust and anger mixed into a deadly cocktail. A Molotov one. “Our agreement you cling to so closely said that I could explore you fully and at my leisure. I will have you, mind and body, before the night is over. You will desire me. Your lust for me will overwhelm you.”
Since the transfusion by the angel I rescued years back, I have been pretty much immune to vampire powers. I hadn't met a vampire yet who could roll me with their abilities.
“Go ahead. Give it your best shot, sister.”
Her hand was still behind my head and she pulled me down and kissed me again. This time her lips were bruising hard on mine. Her carrion tongue thrust into my mouth like a rapist. The arm with the lance circled around my body and pulled me to her. Cool skin pressed against me.
Vampires are not cold, they are cold-blooded. Like lizards, they take on the temperature of their surroundings. The skin that touched me was smooth as silk. Lush breasts pressed against me, full and swollen. I felt her sex slide along my leather-clad thigh.
Inside my mind the pressure of her vampire powers trying to reach inside rubbed like velvet on the inside of my skull. It was a warm, wet feeling against my brain. The slick feeling of sex trying to worm its way in.
Her hand slid from my neck, caressed down my chest and stomach until her fingers found the top of my pants. Turning, they slipped inside to surround me. Her grip was firm and insistent. Regardless of what she expected, though, she found nobody was home.
The arm around me pulled, pressing us together crotch-to-collarbone. Her arm was trapped between us. Her hand was still inside my pants gripping me firmly. Power washed over me as her mouth worked insistently on mine. Her hand stroked me up and then down. That power trickled into my mind. I felt the tear. The small crack in the dam. My eyelids grew heavy and fluttered closed against my will. I hardened in her hand as wet, slick power broke through and washed me away.
Thick, silken hair filled my hands and I pulled the mouth I was kissing closer. I ate at that mouth with a hunger that raged from my crotch to my throat. There was no breath, no hesitation, only need.
Familiar skin brushed against mine. God, I hadn't touched her in so long. I had missed her so much. Her touch, her taste, her smell. Need pushed me against her, my hardness trapped in her hand. My fingers came down and cupped my wife's full breast. Leaning back slightly, she gave me room to flick my thumb across her nipple. Her mouth pulled back to let her gasp in pleasure. I was complete, healed, once again. My love in my arms touching me, holding me.
My wife tightened her grip on the base of me, squeezing so slightly. Her tiny, soft hand stroked me. Mine was full of her breast and the one in her hair pulled her mouth back to mine. My wife, my wife, oh God how I missed this, how I missed her. My heart had been so empty with her gone.
Finally, I was whole, reunited with my wife.
Lust for my wife coursed through me, burning away the ache in my heart.
I was healed by my love for ... my ... wife.
My hand tightened around the hair in it and yanked her head back, pulling her mouth from mine. The illusion shredded as I stared down at the face of Appollonia, her eyes half closed in lust, mouth slack with need. Anger filled me in a spontaneous combustion. My fist swung back as far as it could on the end of my arm and then slammed down into her face. My knuckles crashed, covered her entire eye socket.
“NEVER, EVER USE MY WIFE'S MEMORY AGAIN! STAY THE FUCK OUT OF MY HEAD, YOU BITCH!”
My fist drove her away from me and to the floor of the stage. The hair in my hand tore out of her scalp by the roots. Sprawled on the floor, her eyes were wide with shock. The lance fell from her grip and clattered loudly on the wooden stage.
The power of her tore from my mind, ripping like tendrils from my brainstem. Pain consumed my anger. Sharp, stabbing pain, the inside of my brain being rubbed with a cheese grater. Nausea closed under my sternum like a physical blow. What was left of my dinner spewed out onto the stage in a rush. My stomach emptied itself like a purse. Sweet oxygen was driven from my lungs in the spasms of my diaphragm, and I couldn't breathe. I felt like I had been turned inside out.
Hissing filled the air as the vampires in the pews all began to move. They shook themselves as if coming awake after a long sleep. Appollonia's head jerked to look at them, fear naked on her face. She scrambled almost faster than you could follow with human eyes and snatched the lance from the floor. The moment her hand closed around the haft of it, the vampires in the room all silenced as if a switch had been thrown.
Spots of black crowded the edge of my vision as her power lashed back at me. It was the metaphysical version of the cat-o'-nine-tails. That vampiric power scourged my mind. She rose to her feet as if she were pulled up by strings. With her vampire speed I didn't even have time to try to move as she swung the lance and smashed it across my temple. I didn't have time to feel myself hit the floor either.
18
Being knocked unconscious is nothing like falling asleep. The thing about being knocked unconscious is that you never remember being out of it. One moment you are awake, then BAM! The next moment you are coming to and you have no idea where you are.
I woke up sharply, but the entire world was covered with a haze, almost like a fog. Black specks clustered in my vision to form a tunnel, and everything in that tunnel seemed far away. I was confused, disorientated, and my hearing was off too. I could hear the static whoosh of my blood pulsing in my ears and nothing else.
Slowly, my vision began to clear and the whoosh lowered in volume. Problem was, they were replaced by a grinding ache in my skull. Rats were gnawing their way through the bone in my headâthat was the only explanation. The pain made a migraine feel like an orgasm. I tried not to move or change my breathing. When you wake up from being knocked out, sometimes you do not want the people who have you to know you are awake.
Dust skittered across the surface of the floor like insects. My face was pressed to the wood. As I became clearer in my mind I tried to ignore the pain in my skull to feel my body and see if anything was broken.
I didn't have that sharp, sickening pain of a broken bone anywhere. I thought I was good, but I wouldn't really know until I tried to move. My body ached, especially around my head. The pain inside my skull was a combination of trauma from Appollonia knocking me unconscious and fighting off her invasion of my mind. Vampire powers are a bitch. They crawl in your brain and if you fight them, then it feels like your brain has been dropped into an iron skillet and fried like an egg. It's like you have third-degree burns inside your skull.
“I know you are awake. Sit up if you are able; it is just the two of us.”
The voice came from behind me. It was a deep, masculine voice with a thicker accent. Not a lilt like Irish, more guttural like Scottish, but something a lot older. I couldn't see who it was. The skin on my face pulled, stuck to the floor with dried blood as I rolled over. Movement made the ache in my skull worse and the black spots came back to the edge of my vision. Slowly, I made my way up to a sitting position, putting my back to a wall. When the wave of pain passed, I slowly opened my eyes.
The room was dimly lit and had been a children's Sunday school room when this had been a church. All the furniture was miniatureâlow, round tables with small, square chairs. The pictures on the wall were from Bible stories, cartoon versions of Noah's ark, David and Goliath, Moses and the Red Sea. The vampires had defiled these also. They were smeared with what looked to be dried shit and blood. Symbols of evil had been painted over them. The room was a mess. The blasphemy was worse somehow since it was a children's room.
Evil always seems worse when it is juxtaposed with innocence.
The other person in the room was the man who had been flogged. He sat across from me, his arms on his knees. The same spiderweb silk that Appollonia's robe had been made of wrapped his chest. Tattered slacks covered his waist and legs. The exposed skin was filthy with dried blood and had a waxy pallor. Fierce eyes watched me, waiting for me to speak.
Softly, my fingers touched my face. Damn it hurt. The skin around my eye and cheek was puffy, soft and tender like overripe fruit. Gingerly, I rubbed my hand over the surface and the copper powder of dried blood drifted down. I worked my jaw up and down to see if it was broken. It wasn't, but my molars on the top felt off. Pushing up with my thumb confirmed that they were a little loose. Pressure straight up helped adjust them back in their sockets. As long as nobody caught me in the jaw on that side, I should be able to keep those teeth. Man, she had really nailed me a good one.
The man adjusted, pushing his leg out from him to a more comfortable sitting position. “How is your head?”
“I'll live.”
And I would. Never mind the fact that speaking aloud was like shaving the inside of my skull, this injury would not be the thing that killed me. In fact, if I made it out of this alive, it wouldn't even leave a mark, thanks to my being more than human. Didn't make it hurt any less right now, but the thought was comforting in a small way. “Speaking of, you look pretty good for someone with their back torn off like you had earlier.”
He shrugged. “It still hurts a great deal, but I am used to that by now.” Long fingers waved to indicate the silk wrapped around his midsection. “If it were not for this bandage woven by the spider-folk, I must admit I would be unable to move still.”
“What's your name?”
“I am called Longinus.”
I waved to him. I would have extended my hand, but I wasn't quite up to moving that much, although the pain receded in small waves as the minutes passed.
“Deacon Chalk. Pleased to meet you.” A sneeze tickled the back of my throat and I swallowed it away. If I did sneeze, I was sure it would make my head explode. I would definitely pass out again. Consciousness was something I planned on holding on to.
Longinus stared at me for a moment and then muttered something under his breath. It was in a guttural language I couldn't understand. “What was that again?”
He shook his head. “Sorry, I slipped back to my native tongue.” Long fingers pushed his hair away from his face. “I have heard of you. Thank you once again for speaking on my behalf. It has been a long time since anyone has shown me mercy.”
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, âSo 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.”
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.”
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