Blood Hunt (16 page)

She had been half-asleep on the couch – a plush, luxurious, overstuffed piece of furniture upholstered in something that felt like a cross between flannel and corduroy – daydreaming about how it would be when she was a vampire again. She would be strong, confident, unafraid. Two was certain of this. She wondered how Tori would react, and was drifting off to sleep pondering this when Stephen’s shout woke her up.

“Pass the Christ-forsaken ball, ye great drooling
retard!”

Two noted in an absent way, as the adrenaline rush that had caused her to jump nearly out of her skin was fading, that Stephen’s accent thickened when he was excited. She let out a shaky breath, laughing a bit and saying, “Jesus …”

“Oh, sorry. Scared you, did I? It’s this game … they have the best jump-shooter on the very planet, wide open, and their idiot center never finds him when the double comes.”

“That’s a bitch,” Two said, her voice dry. She rolled over on her side and looked first at the television, then at Stephen.

If the vampire had realized that Two had no idea what he was talking about, he didn’t seem to care. “Aye, it is indeed, but what … shoot!
Shoot!
Good.”

“Uh, wasn’t that the other team?”

“Yes. It’s the accomplishment I care about, especially during the preseason. I want a game that’s decided by one basket, and I want them to fight for every point in between. Who wins matters little, though I’ll admit to developing some rooting interests as the season goes on.”

“Ah.” Two kept her voice noncommittal. In truth, she’d never paid attention to any organized sport and didn’t particularly care. If asked, she would have said she wasn’t
against
them, but rather had never taken the time to become interested. No one had ever asked.

Stephen was explaining his opinions further. “It’s the battle. The test of wills. Which warrior will prevail? Not as good as a real fight, of course, but better than the make-believe in movies or television shows.”

“I bet if there were gladiatorial games, you’d watch,” Two said.

“Watch. Attend. Compete if I could.”

Two smiled. “Not surprised.”

Stephen glanced over at her, saw her grin, and returned it.

 “I’m not the hard one to understand,” he said. “That’s Naomi’s department.”

“She doesn’t seem that tough to figure out.”

“No? Maybe not, but you’ve only just met her. There’s a lot to her beyond the politician, if you go digging. That’s why I like her. She’s better than most on the council by a fair amount, certainly better than the coward she replaced.”

“Not a fan of William?”

“No, I … hold on. Pass! Look at this lummox – he’s not hit a shot all night.
Pass the ball!
”

On the screen, a pale-skinned giant took what looked even to Two’s unpracticed eye like a very ugly shot. The ball clanged off the front of the rim and Stephen swore in disgust, pitching a throw pillow at the television.

Two felt her smile widening. Stephen looked at her and shrugged. “Three hundred and twenty eight years, and I still haven’t grown out of throwing things around.”

“So that’s what … sixteen-hundreds?”

“Tha’s right. I was born in 1676, on the western coast of Ireland. My parents met there after Cromwell – may his rotten soul burn in the deepest pit of Hell for all eternity – sent all the true Irishmen to Connacht. I met my patron twenty years later, and the next year he made me into what I am.”

“Did you want it? Or was it forced on you?”

“I wanted strength and power. I didn’t fully understand the type of power that was being offered, and when first I woke to find what I had become, I will admit I was somewhat … concerned.”

“Only concerned?”

Stephen laughed. “Terrified, actually, but not for long. I grew to love what I had become. My patron was a good warrior and a good mentor. He spent many years teaching me the skills I would need to survive and thrive amongst the Ay’Araf, and we parted ways amicably enough after about eighty years or so. I see him from time to time when I’m in Europe, though last I heard he was on an extended trip to Asia, attempting to establish another council in China or Japan. I doubt he’s succeeded – the warring factions there are even less fond of outsiders than they are of each other.”

“The council … right. Do you know when I’ll be able to meet them?”

Stephen shrugged. “I believe they meet once a month. I tend to lose track of the days, but it feels like about two weeks since the last meeting happened. Naomi will be able to tell you exactly.”

“OK.” Two lapsed back into silence, letting Stephen watch his basketball game and trying her best to follow the action on the screen.

“Who’s the best?” she asked after a few minutes had gone by.

“Depends. Best at what?”

Two looked at him and spread her hands wide.
I’m trying here … help me out.

Stephen grinned. “The tall one, there. Not exciting, but he’s the best.”

“Skill is better than flair?”

“Skill is all that matters to me. He knows how to win. If they need rebounds, he gets rebounds. If they need points, he gets points. If his guards are hot, he gets them the ball. The best of warriors do whatever is necessary.”

“What are
your
skills? Do you play basketball?”

“Against mortals? Rarely. I’m too fast and strong. Against other vampires … it’s not my game. I’m not a tall man, Two.”

Two laughed. “Fair enough.”

“Mainly I fight, as most Ay’Araf do. I was trained first as a swordsman, then later I traveled to Asia for a time to learn martial arts. This century I’ve focused primarily on boxing and firearms, though I keep my other abilities honed.”

“Who do you fight?”

“Anyone who’s interested. Mostly sparring and shooting competitions with other Ay’Araf warriors. Occasionally an Ashayt or Eresh will come in for some training, but there are few of them. Sometimes when one of the Burilgi groups goes berserk, we’re permitted to hunt them.”

“Hunt? Like animals?”

“The Burilgi
are
animals, and barely that. They’re leeches. Our race would be better off if we exterminated them all. I … shoot,
shoot!”

Two was desperate for information, but she was still weak, tired from the blood loss and the events of the evening. Her head was spinning from all of the new knowledge. She let Stephen watch his game in silence and, when it ended, went out for another cigarette.

“Game’s over. I’m done shouting for the evening,” Stephen said as Two lay back down on the couch. He was flipping through a magazine.

“So what now?”

“Now I go and meet some friends at one of our clubs. Then perhaps fighting.”

Two sat up, eyes wide. “Take me!”

Stephen shook his head. “Not until you’ve seen the
Kharas
. The council.”

“Please!”

“Two, there’s nothing there for you. They would consider you food, as I did. This is not your world, not yet. Naomi will help you get it back, and when she does I will be happy to take you wherever it is that you would like to go.”

Two considered this, asked, “Is that a promise?”

“Aye. Now go to sleep. You look like the walking dead and, trust me, I’m intimately familiar with what that looks like.”

“I’ll wait for Naomi,” Two told him, lying back on the couch. When Stephen glanced over at her five minutes later, she was asleep.

Chapter 9
Sixteen Stitches

In the dark there was breathing, and the sound of cloth on metal, and footsteps.

“Who’s there?” Sarah asked. “Who are you? Please … who’s there?”

“You are no longer in danger.” The voice, male, was young but ancient. Sarah couldn’t explain it, but Two would’ve recognized the quality immediately. She would have thought of Theroen.

“Please, I … is Rhes OK? I’m scared.” Sarah hated this, feeling like a rabbit caught in a snare, blind and trapped and so afraid. Not for the first time in her life, she cursed her lack of sight, convinced that things would be better if only she could see.

“He is breathing. Beyond that, I don’t know.”

“Who are you?”

“My name is Jakob.” He pronounced the first syllable with a
zha
sound.

“Did you … kill those other people?”

“It’s best that you not think of them as people.
Burilgi povromos chappati.”

“But did you kill them?”

“I did.”

Sarah considered this. She knew that it was no less than they had planned for her, but it was hard to find pleasure in their death nonetheless. What she mostly felt, in addition to the fear of this unknown man, was an overwhelming sense of relief.

“Are you hurt?” Jakob asked her.

“No, but I need help. I’ve lost track of where I am in the room. I’m … I’m blind.”

“I know.”

“You do?”

“I suppose it could be a fashion statement, but you’re wearing a pair of sunglasses in a darkened room.”

“Oh. Right. What happens now?”

Jakob’s hand grasped hers, and he helped her to her feet. “You could start by telling me your name.”

“Sorry. I’m Sarah. Thank you for saving us.”

“Think nothing of it. The things that attacked you are garbage, and I’m glad they gave me an excuse to put them out of their misery. The one on the floor – you said his name is Rhes? – he fought well, all things considered.”

“Yes, Rhes. Is he hurt? Will he be OK? Rhes, can you hear me?”

She heard coughing from a spot perhaps fifteen feet to her left, and realized after a minute that Rhes was laughing.

“No Sarah, I’m not OK. I feel like I just got worked over by Lennox Lewis.”

Sarah let go of Jakob’s hand and made her way slowly over to Rhes, stopping when she felt him reach out and touch one of her feet. She knelt down and touched his face. Rhes hissed, took her hand, and moved it away from his split lips.

“Oh, baby,” Sarah said, and began to cry. She ran the tips of her fingers over the puffy flesh around his eyes. His left eyebrow was tacky with drying blood.

“That cut is bad,” Jakob said from behind her. “It will require stitches.”

“Yep. I think the one on my leg is worse. Something sharp got me there. Fingernails, maybe … or teeth. They were vampires, right?”

Sarah nodded. Jakob said, “Yes.”

Rhes looked up at him. “You too?”

“Yes.”

“But not the same.”

“No.”

“OK. Sarah, honey, it’s OK. I’m not dying. I’m just banged up. Here, help me sit up.”

“You’re too heavy for me to lift and you’re
way
more than ‘just banged up’ and I can’t even see you and I
hate
this!” Sarah’s voice was miserable. She yanked her glasses off and rubbed furiously at her eyes with the back of her sleeve, as if the tears were something filthy that needed to be scoured away.

Rhes glanced up at Jakob, little more than a shadow in the dim light. The vampire extended his hand. Rhes took it and struggled to a sitting position.

“Can we have, like … two minutes alone?” Rhes asked him. “I appreciate your help. Seriously. I am scared to death of you, but I’m pretty sure you saved our lives. I just need to talk to my girlfriend for a minute. Believe me, we’re not running anywhere. I don’t know if I can even walk.”

“Take your two minutes, but then we must go,” Jakob said, and wandered over by the broken windows, looking out at the city.

Rhes turned to Sarah. She was still crying, staring down at her lap with her blind eyes. He touched her cheek.

“I thought they killed you,” Sarah said.

“They didn’t.”

“No, they just … just
broke
you. I want to hold you and kiss you, but I’m afraid I’ll hurt you.”

“You probably will. I don’t care. I don’t ever want to hear you screaming like that again. I thought I was listening to them murdering you. I thought …”

At a loss for words, Rhes took her face in his hands and, very gently, kissed her. She wrapped her arms around him, and Rhes tried not to flinch back at the sudden pain that lanced through his body from what seemed a hundred different sources. Eventually, Sarah took her lips away from his and pressed them into the space between his neck and shoulder.

“I’m worthless,” she said. “All I could do was lie there and scream.”

“All I could do was get the shit kicked out of me.”

“If I could see, we could’ve run.”

“No. Jakob saved us, period. It wouldn’t have been any different.”

Sarah sighed and let go of him. She rubbed her eyes again and put her glasses back on.

“I want to go home,” she said. “I don’t know where Two is. I don’t care. We’re not going to find her.”

“Whoever Two is, if she’s the one the Burilgi were here for, there is a good chance that she is already dead,” Jakob said, walking back to where they sat.

Rhes looked up at him. “You might be surprised, but we’ll worry about that later. I need to go to a hospital and get some stitches. And some painkillers. Then I’m going to go home and sleep for three days. Can you help me to my feet?”

Jakob nodded. “If need be, I will carry you. Let’s go.”

* * *

There were sirens in the distance, but the trio encountered no one in their flight from Two’s building. Leaning against Jakob, Rhes was able to limp along. Sarah followed, slightly behind, holding Rhes’s hand and trusting him to lead her. Jakob took them down the stairs and out the rear exit of Two’s apartment building. From here they cut through an alley and out onto Sixth Avenue.

“Do you have a car?” Rhes asked.

“Not here. I can make arrangements for transportation as soon as we are far enough away from the building to not risk an encounter with the police.”

“OK.”

“Rhes, what’s wrong?” Sarah asked, her voice strained with concern and frustration. “Why are you breathing like that?”

“Don’t know. Everything hurts.”

“His ribs are broken,” Jakob told them.

“Those fucking … stupid … I wish I … if they …” Sarah was incoherent, unable to form a sentence in her anger. Rhes found himself laughing at her.

“They’re dead, baby. Think they got what was coming to ‘em. Please don’t make me laugh.”