Shot Through The Heart (Supernature Book 1) (31 page)

BOOK: Shot Through The Heart (Supernature Book 1)
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As they descended, Mark thought they were making quicker progress than at any point since they'd first picked up the coffin inside his old hotel room.

Sixty steps later and the nerves in Mark's fingers were burning. "Here?" he asked, words mangled by the torch in his mouth.

"Over there," said Séan, nodding to the far corner.

Mark groaned and gave it one last burst. They laid the coffin down at the far end of the crypt. The rocking worsened again, almost putting the coffin over on its side.

Séan put the crossbow and machete down against the wall. He removed the sledgehammer off his back and battered it against the wall, answering Mark's earlier question. After several swings, Mark noticed a few large chunks of stone were breaking free, forming a small heap.

"Mark?"

A woman's voice.

Mark spun round. It was Kay. "What are you doing here?" he asked.

Kay walked across the floor towards them. "There was a huge mess at the hotel," she said. "I saw you outside and followed you here. What's going on?"

"You wouldn't believe it if I told you," said Mark.

Séan took another swing with the sledgehammer.

"Try me," said Kay, now standing between Séan and Mark. She held out a hand to Séan, ready for him to shake. "I'm Kay."

Séan barely looked at her. He shook his head then returned to his demolition.

"What's he doing, Mark?" asked Kay. She ran her hand through her hair. "Won't he bring the castle down on our heads?"

"That's the idea," said Mark. "Lady Ruthven is a vampire."

"Shut up," said Kay. "Stop winding me up."

"She's in that coffin there," said Mark, pointing to the wooden box just beside Séan.

Kay frowned, then walked over to inspect it. "Lady Ruthven is in there?" she asked.

Mark nodded. "She's a vampire," he said. "Can you believe it?"

"Yes, I can," said Kay.

The ends of her fingernails popped off, revealing large talons.

seventy-eight

Kay lurched towards Mark, her left talon slicing across his right arm, tearing the vein wide open. He screamed in pain and fell to his knees.

She jumped at Séan, mid-strike with the sledgehammer, and lashed out with her claws. He screamed, dropping the hammer onto his feet. In a flurry of movement, she sliced his throat open. Blood poured out, soaking the stone floor.

"First things first," said Kay. She went over to the coffin and used a talon to tear the rope. It took a few attempts.

Mark slumped against the wall, clutching his injured arm to his side, waves of pain coursing through his body.

Kay tore off the lid, the wood splintering across the crypt. She reached a hand in and helped Ruthven out, anger burning across her face.

"I'm the last one," said Kay. "They've killed the others."

Ruthven pointed to Mark. "We shall torture him first," she said. "He's not getting an easy death."

Mark's breath was fast and his vision was starting to fade. His options were narrowing - they had almost done it, and now this.

Séan was dead.

Buffy was incapacitated.

Ruthven was free.

He looked around the room, noticing the crossbow and machete were yards away. He didn't see how he could reach them in time, let alone use them.

"What happened?" asked Mark.

"I converted your researcher here," said Ruthven, standing over him. "I knew the time was right to start expanding my empire and I'm not one to reject an opportunity."

Ruthven reached down and covered her fingertips with his blood. She licked it, her face twisting into a picture of ecstasy. "Ah yes, like a fine Port."

"Why didn't you use her room?" asked Mark.

"Timing," said Ruthven. She went back over to Séan and kicked him. "Kay told me all about you, Mark, how you leered at her when you met her. She told me how needy you were. I knew you'd be perfect for what I had in mind. I still can't believe my plan worked so well. Kay was a means to an end - I needed you to offer yourself to me at the low point of the water." She smiled. "It wasn't exactly pleasant, but I can travel across water in my coffin. I won't be staying here for much longer."

Mark rolled over and quickly got to his feet, hurriedly making for the weapons.

Kay was fast - she got there first, grabbing the crossbow and pointing it at Mark.

Mark picked up the machete. He swung it at her head, slicing into her neck. Blood poured down from the wound.
 

Ruthven screamed out. "No!"

Mark pulled the machete out. Kay released the crossbow and it dropped to the floor. He fumbled around and picked it up. Taking a step back, he fired a bolt at Ruthven, stopping her advance.

He loaded another into the chamber and aimed it at Kay. Her wound was healing already.

He fired.

The bolt speared into the wall behind her.

He loaded another.

He shot it straight through her heart.

He dropped the crossbow and hefted the machete in both hands. He swung it and connected with her head, sending it rolling across the stone floor.

Ruthven was approaching, her eyes blazing fury, her talons extended.

He screamed with rage and swung the machete at her, chaotically, striking her shoulder.

She hissed and grabbed the machete, yanking it away.

He fumbled in his pocket for the garlic. He threw it, catching her in the face.

She pushed him and he stumbled backwards into the wall, hitting his head and collapsing into a heap.

"You've cost me so much," she said, kneeling over him. "I need to get my strength back before I take my pound of flesh."

She bent over Séan and drank his blood.

Immediately, she started convulsing. She stumbled dizzy, then tumbled into her open coffin.

Mark staggered to his feet. He threw the remaining garlic in the coffin and slammed the lid down. He spotted the nail gun he had dropped earlier. He shot nails into the six corners of the coffin.

He collapsed.

"You need the stones."

Mark looked over. Séan was sitting up. His hand covered his throat.

"You need to put the stones on top of the coffin," said Séan. "I'll be a few minutes here."

Mark frowned. "You've just had your throat cut open," he said. "You need a hospital."

"I don't," said Séan.

    • It suddenly hit Mark. "You're a vampire," he said.

Séan nodded and took a drink from his aluminium bottle. He tipped it up a bit and poured some blood onto the stone floor. "I am," he said. "It's what injured Ruthven just then. She could have killed you but she needed blood. It's why I've been so flaky - to do all this stuff, I need a lot more blood than I'm used to. It's not that easy to metabolise, even for one of my kind."

Mark glanced over at the crossbow.

"Relax, Mark," said Séan. "I'm one of the good guys." He took a deep breath. "That said, it was my father who infected her. I came over from Ireland to free this country from his regime. He betrayed us and would have taken over the world given time. I killed him and trapped her on this island two hundred years ago." He sighed. "I should have ignored my orders and killed her when I had the chance. I've kept watch on the Highlands ever since."

"So, is there actually an Order?" asked Mark.

"It's just me now," said Séan.

"How do you live?" asked Mark. "Don't you need blood?" He got to his feet and began heaping stones on the coffin.

"There's an abattoir just outside Inverness," said Séan. "They give me pig blood every week. It isn't as good as human blood, but it's the closest thing and it keeps me going. I had my talons amputated as well."

Mark picked up the sledgehammer, desperate to summon the strength to break off more stone for a big enough cairn to trap Ruthven.

"I'm really looking forward to burning this place down," said Séan.

"Not as much as I am," said Mark.

seventy-nine

Mark got home at one o'clock the following afternoon.

He'd slept in Buffy's spare room, Séan having properly administered to his wounds. They'd heal in time and, despite his mounting paranoia, Séan assured him that he wouldn't grow talons or develop a blood thirst. He'd bought some CDs in a supermarket on the way out of Inverness - the first in years - desperate for something to drown his thoughts out on the drive back to Edinburgh.

He'd tried calling home a few times, but Sarah hadn't answered. He hoped against hope nobody had travelled south to capture her.

He opened the door with his good arm. "Sarah?" he shouted.

Sarah came out of the living room, looking furious with him. "Why the hell haven't you phoned?" she asked.

"I've tried," said Mark. "You didn't pick up."

Sarah gave a deep sigh and frowned. "You look terrible," she said.

"I feel terrible," said Mark. "It's really good to be home."

"What happened to you?" asked Sarah.

"I honestly don't believe any of it myself," said Mark. "Put it this way, I think I've got the next book sorted."

She grabbed him and held him close. "You stink of garlic."

eighty

Agent John Bowyer got out of the black SUV and looked at the smouldering ruins of Ruthven castle.
 

He ran his gloved hand through his short blonde hair and shook his head in despair - they'd been seriously remiss. Despite his best efforts, somehow they'd let a vampire hide in plain sight.

He shook his head again - a bookseller and an academic stopped this. Not someone from his organisation.

He wasn't going to let that happen again.

He got back into the vehicle and started it up, thinking through the chain of events that had caused this. Direct control was needed of these situations, that much was clear. But for the efforts of Séan Avartagh and his writer friend, they'd have another outbreak to contend with.

He sat there for a few minutes before deciding that it was time he paid a visit to the werewolves just down the road.

SUPERNATURE BOOK 2
 

“JUST WALKING THE DEAD”

OUT NOW

For fans of THE WALKING DEAD and Stephen King, JUST WALKING THE DEAD is a 15,000 word novella continuing the Supernature series started in SHOT THROUGH THE HEART.
 

Séan Avartagh — esoteric bookseller and two-hundred year old vampire — is once again called upon to investigate mysterious events in the Scottish Highlands. But when his worst fears are confirmed, a shocking discovery tears the team of deadwalkers apart. Séan must lead them through a crisis which puts them all in danger — and threatens the rest of us.
 

Suspenseful and tense, JUST WALKING THE DEAD shows the human and inhuman sides of the people protecting us from the walking dead.

Click here to buy!

Afterword

VAMPIRES ARE REAL.

Okay, so they're not.

That said, I've tried to take the supernatural and make them real. That’s where the SUPERNATURE series name comes from (and not just a Goldfrapp album).
 

Legends and folklore are full of rules, many of them based on medieval superstition. Vampires are probably the worst - wikipedia has a matrix of powers vs vampires, things such as holy water, crosses, garlic, reflection, etc, as Séan recounted in this book. What I've tried to do is take something from legend and make it real-world, if at all possible. I'll let you judge on whether I've succeeded or not.

The type of vampire portrayed in this book - the
baobhan sith
- comes from Scottish folklore, strikingly beautiful women who would trap weary travellers, then cut them with their talons and feast on their blood.

A lot of research has gone into this - way more than I’ve ever done before...

Lord Ruthven was the first famous vampire, before he was indeed overtaken by a competitor from Romania. Using his daughter as the antagonist was a late decision when I plotted this book, around Christmas time last year, but I think is essential to the story I've woven here.

Ruthven village is entirely fictional, though there are indeed two real villages and a street in Dirleton, the nearest village to where I live. The loch system is real and lies in some brutal and barren landscape.

The representation of the Highland Clearances in this novel is, while based on fact, entirely fictional. They were brutal events motivated by greed, power and corruption, and which defaced the Scottish Highlands, the effects of which can still be felt today - the barren and empty lands long having since drained of people, and those few that remain have long memories. I am in no way condoning any work perpetrated there by the landowners or their subordinates - unless, of course, they were truly ridding Scotland of vampires.

This book was supposed to be a quick and dirty little piece that I wrote between Scott Cullen novels (if you haven't come to this book from those, then there are, at the time of writing, four, though there isn't much supernatural about them and there’s lots of swearing).
 

At the time I started writing this, I was wary of being stuck in a rut with a series and suffering from the law of diminishing returns. In the end, it's turned out to be a bit tricky. The plot of the initial drafts suffered from a lack of intrigue and mystery, which I sorted out, I hope. The hardest part of the book was the end section, stuffed with vampire action, much in the style of FROM DUSK TILL DAWN. I've not written much action before, just the occasional scene, and this forced me to push my style hard. I hope I'm a better writer for it.

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