Six Times Deadly: A Lawson Vampire Story Collection (The Lawson Vampire Series) (11 page)

Huang shook his head.
 
"It's not in play any longer, Hess.
 
Now do like Lawson says and get the hell out of here."

Hess held up his hands.
 
"Fair enough, fair enough.
 
I only wished to do some business like any entrepreneur would.
 
But I understand."
 
He stood and smiled at Huang.
 
"I wish you a very Merry Christmas."

But even as he bowed I was already screaming at Huang to duck.

The explosion blew me out of my chair and down the stairs to the middle of the dance floor.
 
My ears rang and everything happened in slow motion.
 
I saw kids screaming.
 
Smoke.
 
A fire up in Huang's balcony.
 
I heard gunfire.
 
Rapid-fire and staccato blasts.
 
The smell of blood on the air.

I saw movement. And then someone in red went running past me.

Hess.

I rolled, tried to get a bead on him with the USP.
 
Somehow, I'd managed to hold on to it during the blast.

But there were too many bodies in the way, all of them in a mad rush to get out of the club.

I got to my feet, nearly fell back down and realized how dizzy I was.
 
But I had to make sure.
 
At the top of the stairs, the scene was a bloodbath.
 
Huang had two rounds in his chest, blood spilled down the front of his shirt.
 
I watched his incisors extend and then retract as he died.

But Hess' goons had both gone down as well.
 
Huang's men were down for the count as well.
 
So much for aspiring to move out of Tai Tung.

I grabbed the railing and made my way back down to the parquet floor.
 
The stench of smoke was getting worse.
 
In the enclosed club, it was spreading fast.
 
I hoped Huang had had sprinklers installed at least.

On cue, it started raining.

At least the innocents living here wouldn't burn to death.

I ran down the hallway back to the exit.
 
Along the way, I saw more evidence of Hess' handiwork.
 
More of Huang's men lay dead.

But someone had managed to squeeze off a round.

There was a blood trail on the floor.

Back in the apartments proper, the trail grew spotty, but it led me to the staircase.
 
I found a bloody handprint on the door exit.

Outside, the December wind blasted me with fresh snowflakes stinging my skin.
 
I brought the gun up.
 
Hess might be waiting for me to come out.

But I saw only pink and red snow leading down the street alongside footprints in the drifts.

Oak Street led toward Curve Street and the splotches on the snow showed that Hess must have fled in this direction.
 
Ahead of me, the dark underpasses of the route 93, the Turnpike, Surface Road, and a bunch of other highways all converged, creating an almost subterranean landscape normally populated by the homeless.

I heard the engine gun and dove right as the Escalade came tearing at me.
 
I came to my feet in a pile of trash and leveled the USP on the rear windshield, blasting away as another gust of wind tore through the night.

The Escalade jerked to the right and slammed into the side of a brick tenement about a hundred yards away.

Hess fell out of the SUV and ran for the cover of the dark under streets.
 
I'd caught a glimpse of the briefcase.

I popped a fresh mag into the USP and gave chase.

In normal conditions, the dark wouldn't present much of a problem for me or my kind.
 
We've got great night vision.
 
But swirling snow and a strong wind made seeing tougher than usual.

A bullet splanged off the girder next to my face and I winced.
 
The muzzle flash had come from my ten o'clock and I sent two rounds screaming back at it before I moved again.

Hess kept leading me further into the darkness.
 
I stumbled repeatedly on piles of garbage, unused tarps, old tires and more.
 
Trying to make sure I didn't walk into a face full of gunfire was taking most of my attention.

And five hundred feet from where I'd entered, I lost my footing and went down as another two bullets screamed through the space my head had been a nanosecond earlier.
 
My hands touched cold steel.

And gravel.

Tracks.

The Amtrak and MBTA commuter rail lines ran under the streets.
 
We must have been closer to Dorchester Ave. and South Station than I'd thought.

"Let me go, Lawson!"

Hess' voice rang out through the falling snow.
 
I got to my feet and eyed a support column twenty feet away.
 
Carefully, I made my way to it.
 
"Can't do that, Hess.
 
You know the rules."

"Forget the rules.
 
You don't like the Council anyway."

"Doesn't matter whether I like them or not."
 
I moved out from the support beam and started working my way around the darkness.

Hess paused.
 
"I've got money here, Lawson.
 
More than enough for both of us.
 
I'm not greedy, you know.
 
We could go into business together."

"Not interested."
 
I kept moving, trying to key in on his voice.
 
My feet touched another rail and I sidestepped it, feeling the gravel and snow crunching underfoot.

"Then you are a fool."

Hess' voice was suddenly a lot closer than I'd expected.

I turned.

Saw the dim outline in the dark, his red coat caught up in a breeze that made it look like a cape.
 
But he held a small caliber pistol in his hand.

And that wasn't moving.

I considered my options.
 
And none of them left me tingling with excitement.

"You should have let me go," said Hess.

I shook my head.
 
"Can't do it."
 
Was it getting lighter now?
 
I could make Hess out more clearly.

"You are not leaving me any alternatives, Lawson.
 
I'd very much like to have a Fixer on my side."

The light was increasing.
 
And I heard something then.

"I'm not for hire, Hess."

And then I dove to the left as the sudden brilliant explosion of light and the sound came barreling up from behind Hess.
 
The train headlamp caught Hess full in its glare silhouetting him for one brief awful moment before it slammed into him.

It rushed past me, a furious torrent of sound and fury and screeching metal.
 
I kept rolling until I was sure I was safe.

The train rumbled on into South Station.

I got to my feet, shaking and stuttering to grab a breath.
 
I walked back to the last place I'd seen Hess.
 
There was blood on the tracks.

But nothing else.

Hess was gone

*
*
*

I climbed back into my Mercedes and gunned the engine.
 
I was freezing and wanted the heater going full bore.
 
I punched Niles' number into the phone and waited for him to pick up.
 
When he did, I took a breath.

"Done."

"Hess?"

"Gone."

"You positive?"

I frowned.
 
"Let's just say he didn't miss his train."

Niles paused.
 
"What about the kids?"

"Couldn't be helped.
 
Hess brought backup and there was a firefight.
 
They're all dead."

"Might be a blessing in disguise."

I shook my head.
 
"I doubt that."

"Regardless, you got it done.
 
Thanks."

"What I do."

"Merry Christmas, Lawson."

I looked out of my window at the swirling snow.
 
"Not by a long shot."
 
I disconnected and sat there a moment longer, wondering if any of those kids had really deserved to die.
 
Huang had shown he was capable of realizing he'd made a mistake.
 
That counted in my book.

Too bad it had happened too late-

The garrote came around my neck with all the suddenness the weapon was famous for.
 
As the wire bit into my neck, my instincts flared and I twisted, ignoring the wire and going for the man behind it.

Hess' bloody face greeted me; his eyes bloodshot and caked blood framing the sick smile plastered across his mug.
 
I jerked him over the seat into the front with me.
 
My blood mixed with his as he fought to retain his grip on the ends of the garrote, twisting it to close down my airway and cause blood loss.

But I pumped an elbow into his midsection and he grunted, releasing the pressure.

That was all it took.

I jerked the USP out and pressed it against his sternum.

Fired.

Once-twice.

Hess jerked back, convulsed once more and then slumped back against the passenger side window.

I coughed and gagged as I pulled the piano wire from my neck.
 
My hand came away glazed with blood, but it wouldn't kill me.
 
At least not anymore.
 
I sniffed the wire to make sure Hess hadn't coated it with something toxic, like turpentine.

But it was clean.

I looked at his corpse, his eyes rolled back into his head and the splotchy red nose.

Then I popped the locks, opened the door and kicked him out into the street.
 
His body tumbled out.

I started the engine, flipped on my lights, and roared away, watching his body shrink in my rearview mirror.

*
*
*

Forty minutes later I was back sitting in front of the window in my condo.
 
I had a bandage wrapped around my neck.

 
A fresh glass of Bombay Sapphire and tonic with a thick wedge of lime sat in my hand.

And a fresh batch of bad memories littered my brain.

The snow fell harder now as the clock tolled the midnight hour.

I watched the flakes drop, tracking strange routes as the wind blew them aimlessly about.
 

"So melancholy."

I turned.

"Jesus Christ."

Talya stood just inside my door.
 
A wry grin made its way across her face.
 
"Why is it every time I show up you say that?"

"Because every time you show up, you tend to break into my place."

"So who's breaking in?"
 
She held up a key.
 
"Made it the last time I was here."

And then she crossed the floor and I caught her up in a tight embrace.
 
Her lips were cold, but they warmed to the touch.
 
If I had my way, they'd stay that way for a long time.

She pulled away to take a breath and ran her fingers along my neck.
 
"Picking up a new souvenir?"

"Something like that.
 
Siberia?"

"Cold."

And that was the end of the talking.

Outside, the snow continued to fall.
 
But I didn't care much more about that.
 
Or the cold.

Because Talya was back.

And Christmas Day had just begun.

Oathbreaker

I was laid up in a bed with an IV sticking out of my arm.
 
The room was a double, but I didn't have a roommate yet.
 
And that was just fine with me.

Hospitals and I have never really gotten along.
 
Ever since nurses stopped wearing those great white uniforms of old, I've stopped patronizing hospitals as much as possible.
 
Call it a boycott in favor of a certain piece of fashion I'd like to see make a serious comeback.

But duty, as it so often does, has a way of impressing itself upon even the staunchest protest.

I glanced down at my scrub pants.
 
At least they hadn't made me wear the Johnny gown.
 
And I still had my black T-shirt on.
 
All in all, I looked more like I worked at the hospital than an actual patient.

Lucky me.

Niles had, in his own unique style, informed me of the assignment in the back of an ambulance.

"You've got an infection.
 
Think you can handle that?"

"What sort of infection?"

Niles narrowed his eyes.
 
"Knowing you, it's probably something terribly itchy in the scrotal area."

I frowned.
 
"I resent the implication that I'm a man-ho."

"But you are."

"I have very high standards.
 
If they pass muster, they ought to at least get a reward."

Niles waved that off.
 
"The point is, we can put you under in the hospital and get you a couple of days to get this sorted out without you attracting much attention.
 
You'll probably have an IV for the first night and then they'll transition you to oral pills.
 
But you need to make sure you get this problem solved for us before they kick you out."

"And what exactly is this problem?"

"Someone at the hospital is bleeding patients."

I sighed.
 
In modern vampire society, we get a blood subsidy that makes hunting unnecessary.
 
We can still do it, provided we find a willing donor.
 
But fewer of my kind do that nowadays.