Blood and Bullets (14 page)

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Authors: James R. Tuck

Tags: #Fantasy, #Vampires

BOOK: Blood and Bullets
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Larson was holding the cross high and standing his ground, but he didn't look good. Maybe it was the redhead's power spilling around the safety of the cross, maybe it was the screams of the three—shrill, bloodcurdling screams that grated on your nerve endings like sandpaper.
Maybe he was just tired. He had held them off all the way down the hallway and into the dungeon with only a cross. He had done better than I would have thought, but that didn't matter now. I could see him faltering, his strength waning. If he dropped the cross or stumbled, they would be on him like a pack of rabid jackals.
He'd done what I had asked, he had kept them from coming up behind me. Puny Larson had held the monsters at bay and it was time for me to relieve him. I'd had enough of their damned screeching anyway. Pointing my gun in their direction, I sighted down my arm and along the line of the laser. The world narrowed to just them, the end of the barrel, and the red dot. Whistling loudly, I got their attention. They all turned as one and snarled in my direction. My lungs filled with more calming air.
“Shut ...”
BANG!
A squeeze of the trigger and the Hispanic vampire's brains flew over her sisters and her body slumped to the ground.
“... the hell ...”
BANG!
Another squeeze and the redhead flipped back to the doorway as the bullet took her in the cheek, turning her into a red mess inside her red hair.
“... up.”
BANG!
The black girl's eyes were wide when the third slug went between them, taking with it the burden of the back of her head. Stepping around Larson, I delivered three more shots, the bullets ripping holes in the chests of the corpses where the heart was. With the heart shots, each vampiress exploded into dust. If you leave a vampire you shot just in the head to heal, then you could wind up with a mindless, rampaging killing machine. I definitely didn't need three of those.
Gregorios screamed an animal cry of pain and despair. He began thrashing around on the St. Andrew's cross. Spittle flew from his mouth and he gnashed his fangs together chewing air. Long hair whipped around his face, strands of it getting stuck in tears of blood that ran down his cheeks.
“They were mine! I created all of them and I will kill you for what you have done! I'll have your blood! Your death will be mine!”
Gregorios kept ranting and screaming and thrashing. His voice climbing into a shrill scream that rivaled the hell-bitches I had just put down. That once-handsome face stripped away into a bestial mask, all pretense of humanity vanished in anger and pain. His power roared out, filling the room, compressing the air around us.
It wasn't specified or aimed at anyone, it just was. He was 600 years old, and that was a lot of power to unleash. It pressed on the skin like hot matches, but it had weight like snaps from a whip. It should have been frightening. Hell, it should have been bone-chilling, heart-stoppingly terrifying beyond belief.
I didn't fucking care.
I wasn't scared or even angry. God, this had been a long fucking night. I was simply tired, bone tired, down-in-my-marrow tired. I wanted nothing more at that moment than to shoot him in the head and be done with it, but I had to know for sure if he had been the one behind the attempt on my life. If Gregorios hadn't set me up, then I didn't know I could relax. If I assumed and relaxed, I might not see the next time coming.
Flipping the Desert Eagle over in my hand, I held it gripping the barrel. As I walked over to Gregorios, my thumb flipped on the safety. Little tip, if you are going to pistol-whip someone, make sure the safety is on and never use the barrel.
Once, twice, three times I smashed the butt of the gun onto his face. The skin over his eyebrow and the bridge of his patrician nose split, shooting little droplets of blood over the handle of the pistol. It got his attention and stopped his screaming.
“Tell me why you set me up to be killed earlier tonight,” I demanded.
The red swirled in his pupils with rage and he shook his head violently. That raw power of his still weighed heavily on my limbs, pushing me like gravity.
“I don't know what you are talking about.” He spat the words and glared at me with those red, red eyes. Blood dripped from his eyebrow onto his cheek and ran into the tears on his face.
“Tell me who you think might have done it, then.”
He continued to glare at me. Damn, I was tired of hitting him in the face. I needed answers, and I am not opposed to violence, but I get no real joy out of it. If my world had never been destroyed by the monsters, I swear I would have been a nice, normal person. Really. If they had left me and mine alone, I would not be where I am today. I'd probably be raising puppies and painting sunsets.
Setting my shoulders, I prepared myself to hit Gregorios again. My arm drew back like it had before. He didn't even flinch. He didn't hiss, or move at all. Then I felt it. A new power was flowing into the room. It wasn't moths in my head this time, though. It was bats. The new power had the weight of the ocean to it. It smothered the power Gregorios had been dumping into the room, snuffing it out like a candle in the night wind. The rising tide of it threatened to crush every one of us in the room.
Gregorios's eyes grew bigger and his skin began to crawl before my eyes. You've heard the expression “make your skin crawl,” but this was the real deal. The flesh on his neck and face rippled, moving like it had insects under it. Convulsing violently, he vomited black blood on his chest and then went as rigid as brittle steel. Dark eyes rolled back in his head and then closed. Lolling forward, his chin hit his blood-covered chest, and when his lids parted to look at me, Gregorios wasn't home anymore.
Someone else had joined the party.
Gregorios's eyes bled from a brown so dark it was almost black to a bright yellow, honey color. A color so bright they shone like there was a light inside his skull. Those sharp masculine features took on a softer feminine cast. They didn't change or morph besides relaxing, but his expression was now rawly feminine. It was delicate, haughty, and predatory. He looked at me like a woman would. A woman with sin on her mind. I took a step back and turned the pistol around in my grip.
“Who are you?”
Gregorios's head flipped back and he laughed. It was a throaty laugh that was also not masculine in the slightest. What it was was creepy as hell, but not manly in any way, shape, or form. The voice that slithered from his throat purred at me.
“Why, I am Appollonia. Are you the infamous Deacon Chalk I have heard so many stories of?”
Somehow I just knew I had found the vampire responsible for the hit on me. That was not good. Newly made vampires can be controlled by their makers for a while. Gregorios was 600 years old and nothing, I mean nothing should have been able to control him. Hell, this wasn't even control, it was complete possession—subjugation of his body and personality.
“I take it you are the bloodsucker who tried to have me killed earlier tonight?” I am nothing if not thorough.
Appollonia laughed again through Gregorios's throat. “I see now I may have been too hasty in that. I hope you can find it in your heart to forgive me.” Those blue eyes traveled from my face, down my body, to linger on my crotch. “I am sure I can do
something
to earn your forgiveness.” The word
something
spilled from Gregorios's mouth like a dirty piece of candy, sweet and filthy. She sounded like a phone-sex operator.
From hell.
“No can do, sweetheart. There is no room for forgiveness where you are concerned. I will find you and kill you for trying.” No way in hell could I let this pass. If she didn't try again, word would get out and someone else would. I have killed too many monsters for someone not to want revenge. If word of any softness got out, I was a target from then on.
The smile on Gregorios's face was sly and playful. “Oh, goody, do it now. I can give you directions, you can come now.” Appollonia arched the back of Gregorios's body that was still chained to the St. Andrew's cross. She thrust his chest out as if she were used to having breasts instead of pecs. I stepped away to keep her from brushing up against me.
“Oh no. I'll come when you least expect it. You will get no more warning than I had tonight, but trust me, I will see you soon.”
Appollonia was staring at my face. Gregorios's features still held that flirty smirk of hers. I know she didn't flinch when she dropped the bomb. I was staring in his eyes when she spoke again.
“We have your family.”
Those words struck me like a fist in my chest. I took another step back and put my gun away. Turning, I found Larson staring at me. Still white from his earlier encounter with the three disco sisters of the undead, his freckles stood out like they were painted on his face. Wispy red hair was rumpled and there was a streak of something dark on his cheek. It could have been dirt, it could have been lipstick. Hell, it could have been blood. Crossing the distance between us put Gregorios/ Appollonia at my back. His hands rose to rest on my chest.
“What are you doing, man? She has your family.” Concern radiated off of him. He still had my back just like earlier. “What are we going to do about it?”
My hand fell heavy on Larson's arm. It looked huge compared with his thin bicep. A layer of sweat and dirt covered his skin. Blue eyes were earnest and his thin red eyebrows stitched together in concern for me.
He just didn't get it.
Damn.
“I have no family, they were taken from me over five years ago.” I softened my voice but couldn't soften the blow. “She's talking to you.”
His eyes slid past me and looked at Appollonia in horror. The arm I was holding began trembling. “What? I, I don't understand.”
Appollonia's voice piped up over my shoulder. “Let me clear it up for you, human. We have your mother and your sister. They are here with us. If Deacon does not come to me, then I will kill them.” I threw a glance over my shoulder. The smile on her face was evil. Pure and simple evil that was unrepentant. Child molester evil. “It will not be fast. It will not be easy.” She sounded sultry. If she hadn't been casually talking about killing Larson's family, it would have sounded sexy. As it was, it sent chills down my spine.
Gripping Larson's arm, I squeezed it. He looked at me sharply. My voice was low, even though I knew the vampire could hear me. “Hold it together. We will do what we need to do.” I let him go and turned to face Appollonia/Gregorios. She had his head tilted to the side, looking at me. Looking at me the way a cobra looks at a wounded sparrow on the ground. “Tell me where to go.”
“I can only share the information psychically. Have Larson,” she paused with a small giggle, “or should I still call him Nyteblade?” More giggling. “Have him touch this vessel and I will insert the destination in his mind.”
“First tell me how you knew to find me here. Was Gregorios your stalking horse all along?” I was fishing for information. I needed to know just how far this bitch's power spread.
“Oh, I have been looking for Gregorios since he went into hiding. I felt his power flare and call out to me a few moments ago, so I came to fetch him.” Gregorios/ Appollonia looked at me again. She licked his lips. It was really unnerving. It was a male face, but the look and the mannerisms were so feminine it was alien. “Imagine my pleasure to look through his eyes and find you standing in front of him.” His eyes took on a darker tone; the gaze she gave me through them was heavy. It was full of promise and heat. The look was all bedroom. “It was a
very
pleasing sight.”
This vamped-out bitch was flirting with me, through the body of the male vampire she was possessing. Really? Could my night get any more messed up than this?
Knowing my luck, probably.
“Look, lady, if you wanted to ask me out for a date, you have a fucked-up way of doing it. Or were you just trying to get my attention earlier by sending your vampires to that alley?”
The voice from Gregorios's mouth trilled out a giggle. “I was told you were a threat to my plans. Looking at you now, I am glad you survived.” Gregorios's bottom lip pouted out. “Don't be cross with me.”
“Cross? You tried to kill me earlier. Who told you I was a threat to you?”
“An old friend of yours. He knows you quite well. It was his plan that was played earlier. I stole it from his mind.” She cocked Gregorios's head to the side, making his hair fall, a tiny smile on his lips. “Did you know that you have friends who have plans to kill you if you ever go evil? Does that make you sad?”
She had to be talking about another monster hunter. When you fight evil for a living you know that the worst thing that could go wrong is not that you die. No, the worst thing is that some Big Bad could take control and turn you into a monster. A danger. Someone to be put down. We are a wary bunch, but once you find a fellow monster hunter you can trust to back you up when things get scary, then you trust them to take you out if you ever get turned evil.

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