Bloodliner (4 page)

*****

 

Chapter 7

As Mavis hunkered down beside the altar, she heard the stained glass skylight shattering overhead...then, machine gun ammo pinging off metal and marble and stuttering into wood. She could almost picture the damage as it happened, the bullets denting the crosses and candlesticks, chipping the altar, splintering the pulpit.

Then, she heard something she could not quite identify. As if the bullets had hit something softer.

And wetter.

The next thing she heard was not so hard to identify: a man's voice.

Screaming in pain.

Before Mavis could look up to see who it was, she heard a loud splattering noise. Something wet and cold splashed down over her, almost knocking her down.

Mavis wiped the wet substance from her eyes and opened them.

This time, she was the one screaming.

Her hands were covered with what looked like blood. There was blood on the floor all around her, and all over her body.

Blood dripped from her hair and elbows, ran down her sides and legs. It poured over her face, refilling her eyes...flowing into her mouth.

As soon as it passed between her lips, she spat it out furiously.

Oh my God!

Mavis grabbed hold of the altar and scrambled to her feet. She pulled the red cloth cover from the altar and used it to wipe as much of the blood from her face as she could.

She screamed again and kept on wiping.

"What was
that
?" she shouted. "
What was that?
"

"Vampire," said Stanza. "On the stained glass skylight."

"You're insane!" said Mavis.

"More on the way," said Stanza. "Take cover."

No sooner had Stanza said the words than a dark-haired man dropped headfirst through the open skylight. As Mavis watched, he plunged straight down and landed on his hands on the altar.

When his wide, wild eyes met hers, she froze in place.

Why can't I run? What's going on here?

Stanza's machine gun chattered as the man leaped off the altar. In the space of a heartbeat, he did a smooth backflip that landed him neatly behind Mavis.

Then, his arm curled around her throat.

The machine gun stopped firing.

"Drop the gun and open the door, beautiful." The man hissed loudly and poked a sharp-taloned finger at Stanza. "Let in the rest of the rescue team."

"That what you're calling it now?" Stanza's voice was cool and even.

"Rescuing these precious children." The man laughed and kissed Mavis on the cheek. "We got here in the nick of time, didn't we, sweetheart?"

Just then, someone pounded on the door outside. Stanza didn't flinch, but Jonah looked nervous.

"You can go your merry way, Bloodliner," the man said to Stanza. "We're only interested in your two clients here. I promise. Cross my heart and hope to...wait, I'm already dead, aren't I?"

"Lazy moron." Grinning, Stanza let the gun fall free at her hip and swung up an arm, pointing it right at him. "Left your sunglasses in the coffin, didn't you?"

Mavis caught a glimpse of a round lens poking out of the red leather sleeve of Stanza's jacket. Then, everything melted in a flare of white light.

The vampire howled and let go of Mavis. Her paralysis suddenly let go, too, and she stumbled forward blindly.

Just as Mavis tripped and started to fall, someone caught her. She felt a strong arm loop around her shoulders and heard Jonah's voice in her ear.

"Come on," he said. "Hurry."

Mavis let him guide her...not that she had much choice. All she could see were the swarms of throbbing spots left in her eyes by Stanza's flare.

Somewhere behind her, Mavis heard machine gun fire and the screams of the vampire. Then, she heard what sounded like something hard and heavy smashing into something else.

Followed by an incoherent shout from Stanza.

Jonah looked back as he kept hurrying Mavis forward. "This sucks!"

The spots in Mavis' eyes dimmed enough that she could see again. Jonah was steering her down the hallway past the church offices and meeting rooms.

"Where's the back door?" said Jonah.

"Hang a right at the end of the hall." Mavis could still hear the sounds of smashing and gunfire in the church proper. She wondered what was happening back there...and yet, like Jonah, she didn't feel the need to turn around and try to help Stanza.

I'm in so far over my head, I can't even help myself.

But she saved your life. So much for "do unto others."

"Where's your car?" said Jonah.

"Just outside the door." Mavis' vision continued to clear. She could see the end of the hall coming up fast.

"Got your keys?" said Jonah.

"There's an extra set in the rear driver's side wheel well," said Mavis.

"I guess we're on our own now." Jonah pulled her around the corner at the end of the hall, heading for the back door.

And immediately lurched to a halt.

Not quite on our own.

A brown-haired man in a tuxedo stood between them and the back door. His leering grin revealed rows of jagged fangs like the teeth of a shark.

As the man reached for Mavis, she screamed.

*****

 

Chapter 8

"E-excuse me." Even as the words left Jonah's mouth, he couldn't believe he'd said them. He couldn't believe he was talking to a vampire who could probably tear him apart in a split-second.

But it seemed to be having an effect.

Amazingly, the vampire stopped reaching for Mavis. He stared at Jonah with a look of indignant puzzlement on his pasty face.

"Did you ever have one of those days?" said Jonah.

The vampire chuckled. "Never."

Keep him talking. Figure out what to do next.

"We don't want any trouble," said Jonah.

"No trouble here. Just good news." The vampire dropped a hand on Jonah's shoulder. "You're about to get a new family."

Jonah tried not to cringe. The hand on his shoulder felt so cold it burned. It reminded him of the blonde vampire's frigid kiss in the alley behind Halcyon.

That reminded him of what had happened shortly after the kiss...namely, paralysis. As the cold spread through his upper body, Jonah realized he might only have seconds before he was completely immobilized.

That was why Jonah freaked out and tried to shake off the effects of the paralysis...in the process throwing himself right into the vampire. As he pitched forward and knocked the vampire back through the door, Jonah shouted to Mavis. "Get out of here! Run!"

He caught a glimpse of Mavis sprinting down the hall as he and the vampire tumbled into the gravel parking lot outside.

Now what?

The vampire took the brunt of the impact, crashing down on his back. Immediately, Jonah broke away from him and clambered to his feet to make a run for it.

But the vampire lashed out a hand and grabbed Jonah's ankle. He brought Jonah down with a tug and dragged him back across the gravel.

"Good!" The vampire laughed. "It's no fun if the fish doesn't put up a fight!"

Jonah clawed futilely at the gravel. He tried to dig in his heel and slow his progress, to no avail.

Oh God! I'm toast!

"Come here, fishy," said the vampire.

In a last-ditch effort, Jonah flung himself over and hauled back his free foot. Before he could fire off a good face-kick, however, the vampire latched onto his ankle.

Now, both of Jonah's legs were locked in the vampire's icy vice-grips.

Guess we'll make it a triple funeral tomorrow. Mom, Dad, and me.

Or will he make me a vampire instead?

As the vampire loomed over him, Jonah could only think of the
feratu
in his chest, the same hideous creature that had been inside the blonde in the alley. One bite from the vampire, and the
feratu
would lay its eggs inside Jonah. The next thing he knew, a baby
feratu
would be eating his heart and growing inside him.

I'd rather die.

Fortunately, before all that could happen, a machine gun chattered.

The vampire jittered and twitched as high-velocity ammo peppered his body. Blood leaked from the holes in his head and chest, and the look in his eyes went blank.

Without a word, he slumped on his side in the gravel.

Jonah scrambled out from under him, desperate to avoid any
feratu
that might come crawling out. As he bolted to his feet, he saw Stanza in the church doorway, holding the machine gun. Mavis stood behind her, looking around nervously.

Now that the immediate danger was over, uncontrollable shivers seized Jonah's body. "Twice in one day! That's twice!"

Stanza hurried down the stairs toward the only car in the lot—a red PT Cruiser nosed up against the building. "And I saved you again. That's two bonuses in one day." She reached into the rear wheel well on the driver's side and pulled out a magnetic key box.

"This is
insane!
" The shivers rose up in Jonah and propelled him in an angry dance complete with primal scream.

Stanza popped a key out of the magnetic box and opened the driver's side door. "Nice car," she said to Mavis. "Needs gas?"

Mavis seemed shell-shocked. She kept staring at her bloody hands and clothes. "What?"

"Still want to hang around here?" said Stanza. "Wait for more playmates?"

Mavis shook her head and drifted toward the car. "I just filled the tank." She plucked at her blood-soaked pants. "Need a seat cover."

"No kidding." Stanza jogged past her into the building.

When Mavis and Jonah were alone in the parking lot, Mavis stared at him with a look of complete bewilderment. "Did this really just happen?"

"Either that, or we took the same acid," said Jonah.

"Everything's ruined." Mavis gestured over her shoulder at the church. "My life is ruined!"

"Join the club," said Jonah.

Mavis walked away from him, then turned back. "You saved my life."

Jonah shrugged.

I did, didn't I? Chickenshit and everything.

I saved somebody's life.

"It's no big deal," said Jonah.

Mavis stared at him with a funny look on her face—confused, upset...and something else that he wasn't quite sure about.

Angry?

Just then, Stanza raced out of the building with a blue plastic tarpaulin slung over her arms.

"Put this on the seat," said Stanza, chucking the tarp at Jonah. "We're outta here."

"And go where?" Mavis' face was smeared with blood. "Where can we possibly be safe from these monsters?"

Stanza smiled. "A vampire town, of course."

Then, she dropped into the driver's seat and started the PT cruiser's engine.

*****

 

Chapter 9

Genghis laughed as Thomas drained the blood from the vampire's corpse sprawled over the church pew. "You and your sloppy seconds!" He ruffled Thomas' hair.

Thomas looked up, his fangs and lips dripping with blood. "I'm not letting perfectly good juice go to waste!"

Shakespeare's impulse was to tear the boy from his feast and put him through a wall.

Raised by the most degenerate of our kind, this child is little better than an animal. If he can drink our own dead with such zest, there is nothing he won't do.

But Shakespeare didn't follow his impulse. He saw Genghis watching for his reaction, but he didn't give him the satisfaction.

In the interest of preserving the truce, I shall hew to the business at hand. Time enough later for the storm.

"Three of our own lost here," said Shakespeare, covering a second body with a white cloth he'd found in the sanctuary. "Four so far this night, in all. Yet I have a feeling the price of our prize shall rise further still in days and nights to come."

"Gee." Genghis made a face at him, crossing his eyes and rolling his head to portray stupidity. "Ya
think
so?"

Shakespeare ignored his mockery. "The stories we've heard do not come close to reality," he said. "This Stanza is indeed an elemental force. Were we truly placed in opposition, she would prove a worthy adversary."

"For a china doll like you, maybe." Genghis laughed and waved a hand at him dismissively. "She wouldn't even make a light snack for natural born killers like Thomas and me. Right, boy?"

Thomas whirled from his meal and roared, contorting his bloody face in a mask of savage fury.

Shakespeare looked to James for his reaction. Though James kept a poker face in place, Shakespeare knew him well enough to read the underlying currents.

He's confused and frightened. Seeing a monster whose face could be his own, he fears what that monster might do to him...and likewise fears that he himself might be a darker monster than he has ever guessed.

"James," said Shakespeare. "Here." He tossed a folded white cloth, and James caught it. "Cover that body, else the vermin defile it further."

James stood in place and watched Thomas continue to lap blood from the corpse's wounds.

Courage, boy. Now's your chance to light the flame, else this cur sip your blood next...or worse, a self-fulfilling terror drives you to become a monster, too.

"
Now
, James," Shakespeare said firmly. "That man is part of
Cruentus Estus
, as are we. He died to bring us closer to the prize. Let us treat him not with disregard but honor."

Still, James hesitated. He met Shakespeare's gaze, then looked at Thomas, then back. Finally, he swallowed hard, clenched his jaw, and walked toward Thomas and the corpse in the pew.

"Move," said James. "Let me cover the body."

Thomas just kept gulping blood.

"That's enough." James kicked Thomas' foot. "Now
move
."

Still, Thomas ignored him.

James waited a moment...then jumped in and heaved Thomas off the body. "I said
move
!"

Thomas hit the floor and instantly leaped to his feet. He lunged at James, stopping inches away, and glared with murderous, animal rage.

Steady, James. This moment decides it.

Thomas darted forward, howling and snapping...but James did not budge. When Thomas lashed out a bloody hand to claw his face, James caught and held it fast.

Shakespeare held his breath as he watched. If the two flew into full-blown battle, he could not guess the outcome. If they fought to the death, only one thing would be certain.

Brother would kill brother.

What an awful fate that would be—brothers separated for a lifetime, raised in feuding camps, and brought together only long enough for one to kill the other. It would be an ending fit for one of Shakespeare's tragic plays, if he still wrote them.

I only hope some flicker of loving memory does not stay James' hand or leave him open to the killing strike.

James and Thomas stayed locked together for long moments, bodies perfectly still but wills clashing like ships on a wild sea, every cannon blasting.

Finally, Thomas broke away, wrenching his hand from James' grip and bumping shoulders as he shoved past him. "I'm done eating, anyway."

Well done, James.

Shakespeare wanted to go to James and pat him on the back. Congratulations were in order...and relief, for Shakespeare knew how near a thing it had been.

But now is not the time for celebration. Balance has been struck, but we have yet to win the war and make a brother from a monster.

Just then, Shakespeare felt Genghis' arm slide around his shoulders. "He's saving him for later," said Genghis. "So he can
savor
every bite."

Shakespeare turned away as James covered the body in the makeshift shroud. "I'm doing the same for you," he said, smiling at Genghis. "It gives me something to look forward to and plan in great detail."

Genghis laughed and slapped him on the back. "What a sense of humor! I really should be writing all this down."

"Excellent idea," said Shakespeare. "You have a lot to learn about the spoken word. The grunts and growls you favor will not get your point across in civilized company."

"But I want nothing to
do
with civilization," said Genghis, "except bring it to its knees and drain every last drop of its lifeblood."

Shakespeare met his gaze. Down the long centuries of his half-life, he had encountered all manner of undead creatures...but Genghis was unique.

Like the first of a horrible new species, he strides upon the Earth, consumed with dreams of slaughtering all but those few servants and foodstuffs required to raise his monstrous young.

"I wonder," said Shakespeare. "What will you do when you enter the paradise we seek? The prize the rabbits we pursue shall find and open?"

"Take all the power it has to offer." Genghis' high-pitched voice was a hiss. "Use it to turn the rest of the world into Hell."

How I wish we'd never signed this vile treaty.

Suddenly, sirens wailed in the distance.

"Time now to get us gone from here, I think," said Shakespeare. "Return to the trail of our rabbits three and urge them onward with our shadows."

Without being asked, James stepped up and rattled off a report. "The advance team is still following Mavis' vehicle." James pressed the cell phone earpiece further into his ear and listened carefully. "She and the others are heading for the desert."

"Let's join the chase, then." Shakespeare took off his robe as he marched out the door. He transformed along the way, his skin turning pale gray with fine, white fur.

The sirens continued to get closer.

Huge, leathery wings unfolded from Shakespeare's back. "We shall take to the skies," he said, "follow where Stanza leads, and in so doing take the next steps toward our prize."

Before Shakespeare could get off the ground, though, Thomas charged out past him, wings flapping, and launched ahead of everyone.

"Screw the prize," said Thomas. "I just want some more corpses to drink."

Genghis followed, shifting into his red hawk form and brushing back Shakespeare with great sweeps of his wings.

"I might just go home soon," said Genghis. "The boy can handle all of you on his own, I think."

Then, with a laugh that became the keening shrill cry of a giant hawk, Genghis took to the sky. The lights of the approaching police cars flashed red-blue-red on the undersides of his vast, feathered wings.