To Catch a Vampire (16 page)

“Wonderful, just wonderful,” I mutter, rolling my eyes.

“Did you say something, Beatrice?” Freddy asks.

“Nope. Not a thing.”

“Does it surprise you to learn this about your lover?” Freddy asks.

“Nope. He’ll sleep with anything. I’ve seen him hit on trees.” Okay, there was a pixie in the tree, but still. “And he’s not my lover.”

“You share a hotel room. He calls you his wife.”

“I take the bed, he’s in his coffin. And the wife thing was my idea so the other vamps would leave me alone.”

“She does not lie,” Oliver says. “I took her on this trip in the hopes of remedying her reluctance, but her will is too strong. I actually grow tired of her frigidity.” He looks down at me, meeting my eyes. His grow wide. “I was planning to leave her on the next leg of our trip.” Grin Number Four surfaces.

Oh!

“What?” I snap. “You were
what
?”

“I am sorry, my darling, but it is true.”

“You were just going to abandon me in San Diego?” I cry, doing an Oscar-worthy performance of the wronged woman. Joan Crawford would be proud. “What about what you said in Chicago? That you’d give me as much time as I needed, huh? Forget about that, you creep?”

“I lied. I thought it would be amusing to see how long it would take for you to spread your legs. But the farce has grown … dull. Rather like you.”

I jump off the couch, hands on my hips. “Well, excuse me for having some morals! There are some of us who wait to fall in love before letting a living dead man into their most sacred place! And to think I stayed with you after you went crazy and bit me!” I look at Freddy. “You can stake him now! I don’t care! Do us all a favor!” I flop back on the couch, folding my arms with a huff.

Freddy’s smile stretches so far he looks like the Joker from
Batman
. “My, my. You have not changed, have you Ollie? Leaving broken hearts wherever you go.” The smile fades. “Such a shame I did not believe a word of it.”

“I want nothing to do with him,” I say. “Believe it or not, but it’s the truth.”
For the love of Christ, believe me
.

“Beatrice, angel,” Freddy says with a quick smile, “it does not matter if I believe
you.
It matters that I believe
him
.”

“I—”

I don’t see him move. I blink and the snarling Freddy is on top of me, his whole weight pressed against me. One moment I’m sitting up, and the next I have my head in Anton’s lap while Freddy straddles me, two long fingers on either side of my windpipe. Anton seems as surprised as I am, his arms raised as if a tarantula just jumped on his thigh.

“Do not move!” Freddy roars at Oliver, putting pressure on my neck.

My eyes dart to Oliver, who hovers above wide-eyed in fear and hatred. “Release her,” he says sounding more than a little afraid.

“Oh, I knew you cared,” Freddy says mock serious. His grin forms cheek to cheek.

“Her ex-lover is an officer of the law,” Oliver says quickly. “He knows she is here. There would be a nationwide manhunt.”

“Frederick,” Anton says, still not moving

“Silence!” Freddy shouts. He squeezes tighter. I can barely breathe now. My eyes water. I think they’re tears.

“Killing a human is punishable by death!” Oliver shouts. “The F.R.E.A.K.S. will not let this pass!”

“They have not caught me yet,” Freddy says to me.

“This time they will,” Oliver shouts. “They know we are here! I am working with them!”

“Lies!”

Oh, God. I see spots. I try to use my power to push him off, but it doesn’t work. He doesn’t budge. The world starts spinning.

“Frederick, release her!” Anton orders. He shoves the insane vamp by the shoulders, pushing him off me and the couch. Freddy tumbles over the side. I gasp for breath the moment I feel the fingers leave.

“How dare you touch me!” Freddy roars from the ground.

Oliver is beside me in a blink, wrapping his arms around me as I gasp and cough. He strokes my hair, rocking me as I clutch onto his shirt, wiping my tears on it.

“He is employed by the F.R.E.A.K.S.,” Anton says. “Do you really want them upon our heads more than they apparently already are? Is your revenge worth that?”

“Yes,” Freddy snarls. “He must pay!”

Oliver pulls me tighter into his chest. I think he’d pull me inside him if he could. The gasps lessen. My throat aches with each breath. “Do what you will to me,” Oliver says, “but leave her be.”

Freddy glances at Anton, then Oliver, then back to Anton. He rises, smoothing his pants. He regains his composure by wiping imaginary dirt off his pants. “Then challenge me to a duel.”

“I beg your pardon?” Oliver asks.

“A duel. I have kept up with my swordplay, have you?”

“This is ridiculous,” Anton protests.

“No, it is not. If he challenges me, then we are protected under vampiric law and the F.R.E.A.K.S. cannot touch us.” Freddy grins. “And if I remember correctly, our Oliver here was never confident with a blade.” He takes a step toward us, the grin falling. “Challenge me, or I will call my men in to hold you down while I vivisect and flay your lover in front of you.
Challenge me
.”

“This is madness,” Anton says. “I do not—”

“I care not what you think! Challenge me!”

Oliver’s poker face has returned, but I’m sure his mind is working on every possible scenario. He drops his arms, pushing me away. “If I agree, she will not be harmed?”

“I will not so much as touch a hair on her head. Challenge me.”

Slowly, Oliver stands while not taking his eyes off Freddy. “Then I, Oliver Smythe Montrose of no land challenge you, Lord Frederick Sampson St. Clair of North Texas, to a duel.”

“And I accept,” Freddy says, bowing. “Anton, call JR and Geraldo as witnesses. And retrieve the swords.” Anton nods, glancing at us as he stands. He walks over to the phone. “We need to move the sofa, Oliver. Please stand, Miss Beatrice.”

What the heck is going on?

Oliver holds out his hand. Good thing, because the world somersaults as I stand up. Freddy pushes the couch toward the back wall. JR and Gerry enter and immediately start moving furniture off to the side. I lean against Oliver as he helps me back to the moved couch. With the others setting the stage, Freddy saunters over to Anton, who hands him one of the swords from the wall. It’s as big as I am. Oliver plops me down on the couch, and then joins me. Freddy swishes the sword to and fro, testing it.

“You don’t have to do this, you know,” I whisper. “Do you really think he’ll let me go just like that?”

“If I am dead then he has no reason to harm you,” Oliver whispers back.

My stomach drops at the word
dead
. “‘If you’re dead?’ You’re planning on dying?” I whisper.

“I shall try my best not to,” he says with grin Number Four, the “I’m in trouble” one.

“This is insane! Why don’t we just arrest him?”

“If we attempt to arrest him here, there is an entire cadre downstairs who will not allow us to leave this building alive, no matter who we are. Plus, we have no weapons or holding cell. This is the only way.” He removes his jacket and unbuttons his sleeves for better movement. “If something should happen to me, do not go back to the hotel. Call the others. Finish the mission, but do
nothing
to help me, do you understand?”

“Why?”

“It will null the contract.
Do nothing.”

“Oliver,” Freddy says in sing-song. “Are you prepared?”

I meet Oliver’s eyes, which are steely with resolve. He cups my cheeks in his hands, pulling my face to his lips. Softly, he kisses my forehead. “I am sorry for this.” He releases my face and stands. “My sword please.”

Anton brings him the sword. Oliver takes the golden lattice handle. “Silver?”

“Naturally,” Freddy says. “The very same one I used to kill Ravi for this territory seventy years ago.”

Oliver joins Freddy in the center of the square. They’re boxed in by the couch, desk, and far wall, which Gerry and JR lean against. JR has a huge smile on his face, but Gerry looks bored. He probably planned on spending the night raping teenage girls, not watching a sword fight. Anton takes a ringside seat beside me, throwing his arm over the side of the couch like a date at a movie. I clutch onto Oliver’s jacket like a security blanket. My foot jiggles. Oliver’s old. I’m sure he’s done this lots of times. Dozens. He’ll be fine. He
has
to be fine.

The men face each other, raising their swords to their noses in unison, faces blank. They lower the silver swords to the ground so the pointed tips touch the ground.

“I will enjoy gutting you,” Freddy says.

“Jules said you were terrible in bed. Unimaginative. Could not wait to—”

Freddy lunges at Oliver with a roar I’m sure they heard all the way in Kansas. Oliver raises his weapon to block the blow, the swords clanking on impact. Freddy raises his sword again, but Oliver blocks. Without hesitation, Freddy continues bringing the sword down as if he’s chopping wood. Clack, clack, clack. Oliver grips his sword with two hands as he lowers to his knee to brace the impacts. Freddy howls louder with each swing. Oliver’s sword lowers to his forehead, and in that instant he punches Freddy in the stomach. The enraged vampire doubles over for a moment, which is all Oliver needs. He stands and leaps away.

Freddy recovers far too quickly. Just as Oliver moves, Freddy is on him again, sword gliding to Oliver’s left side. He parries it away, then twists to make a blow of his own. Freddy blocks it. They continue like this for a few seconds: block, blow, block, blow, blow, moving so fast I lose track of who is doing what. I feel like I’m watching a live version of an Errol Flynn movie. The real thing is far more frightening and loud.

Oliver bends to the side to avoid a strike and at the same time spins around so he’s on my right. Freddy attempts another axe move, but Oliver sidesteps it. Freddy stops attacking, glaring at the stony Oliver who holds his sword and other hand out to the side. “You are rusty, my old friend,” Freddy says.

“As are you,” Oliver says back. “You used to be able to take someone out in three thrusts. At least that is what Jules told me.”

They circle each other like rabid dogs. “I enjoy toying with you.”

“Well, stop it,” Oliver hisses. “I grow bored with you, as all do.”

“You would deny me my revenge?” Freddy asks, still circling. “You stole and then killed my lover.”

“Vampire hunters killed Jules, not I.”

“If Jules had been with me, it would not have happened!”

“I am not responsible for what happened. You drove Jules away with your neediness and weakness. Death was preferable to an eternity with you.”

Freddy’s eyes turn shark black. He lunges at Oliver, who steps to the side. Freddy jumps on his desk, and at the same time, brings the sword down and over, drawing blood on Oliver’s left bicep. The skin sizzles like bacon on impact and smells like what it is: burnt flesh. I gasp. Oliver hisses in pain, involuntarily switching the sword to his left hand, right one pressing on the wound. He steps back but not far enough. Freddy kicks Oliver in the face, knocking him on his back.

“No!” I shriek.

Freddy leaps off the desk beside Oliver. He brings the sword down, but Oliver crosses his blade across his body in protection. So Freddy stamps down hard on Oliver’s stomach. He recoils in pain, turning over onto his side. Freddy slashes across Oliver’s back with the look of a man possessed. Oliver howls in pain. Blood pours out like Niagara Falls, pooling on the floor. He drops the sword. He’s defenseless. Freddy kneels down beside him, drawing the sword to Oliver’s neck. He yanks on Oliver’s hair. “Beg for mercy,” Freddy says with a snarl.

Anton yanks on my arm, drawing my attention away from the scene. “If you are able to do something miraculous,” Anton whispers quickly, “and I believe you can, I would so it now.”

“Beg!”

“Never,” Oliver says through the pain.

Anton yanks again. “Now!” he whispers.

Screw it, Oliver is not dying on my watch.

Freddy begins drawing the sword across Oliver’s neck like a violin bow, triumph written all over his face. That is until the sword flies from his hand as if pulled by invisible strings. All eyes follow the floating weapon until it lands with a clang in the corner of the room. Everyone’s face but mine contorts into a look of confusion. Anton and I stand up.

“What the hell?” Gerry says.

The two goons take a step toward Oliver, but I hold up my hand to focus my power. They both fall back against the wall unable to move. At the same time, I look at the sword Oliver lost, picking it up with my mind. It floats into my outstretched hand. Freddy’s look of utter confusion turns to wonder then anger. The other two continue struggling, worming their bodies as if trying to get out of rope.

“Get away from him,” I order, my voice matching my fury. I whip toward Anton. “You. Sit.”

He does.

Holding the sword at the ready—not easy as it weighs at least ten pounds—I step toward the motionless Freddy. “Try anything and I squish your two henchmen like bugs on a windshield.”

“You always do know the most interesting people, Ollie,” Freddy says in amusement.

“Oliver, get up,” I command.

With a groan worthy of a porn star, he stands, grimacing in pain. He’s so pale, almost the color of a real corpse.

“We’re leaving,” I say, edging back toward the door. Freddy doesn’t move.

“This is not over, Ollie,” Freddy says.

“Don’t you move,” I say as we reach the door. Both JR and Gerry scowl and seethe next to me.

“I’m going to kill you, bitch,” Gerry growls.

“Not if I kill you first, pal. And I will. That’s a promise.”

Gerry makes another attempt with the lunging, but I tighten the invisible plank so he can’t even blink. Oliver staggers through the open door, and I back out too. Oliver’s halfway down the stairs when I close the door with my mind. I have to release the men, focusing my entire mind on that door. The men pull and push and smash, but it doesn’t budge. Even as I’m running down those stairs as fast as my feet allow, I don’t let go.