Gypsey Blood (11 page)

“Oh yeah?
You might not think so when we get done with you.” Rita set her flashlight on the floor and pushed Anna’s chair out of the way, the glass crunching under the wheels. Dust and mildew filled the air, so heavy she could taste it in the back of her throat.

Dragus and Matt stood a few feet inside the foyer, Dragus’s wide frame concealed Matt’s crossbow from Lucien. The vampire’s cold gaze passed by Dragus and settled on Matt. “Hello, old friend. I should have finished you the last time we met. I may not drink of family blood, but yours will fill me with strength.”

“You murdering bastard,” Matt growled, bumped Dragus aside, and shot a readied bolt. Lucien swiveled his upper body. The shaft missed and thwacked like a bullet into the stud.

Matt triggered another bolt. It embedded into the muscle of Lucien’s forearm. He grinned and yanked the arrow free.

Rita gasped aloud.

“You have much to learn, Pretty One,” said Lucien. “Are we ready children? As you Americans say, ‘let’s party.’”

The crystal atop Rita’s sweatshirt sent icicles stabbing into her chest. Matt held his gold cross in front of his face and stepped forward. The vampire snarled deep in his throat.

“Now,” Matt shouted. The two men rushed forward. Lucien met them in the center of the room. Matt grunted and clutching a bolt in his fist, stabbed the arrow deep into Lucien’s shoulder. The walking corpse didn’t flinch. Dragus, holding tight to one of the wooden stakes from his sash, had his arm raised ready to strike. Lucien lifted his knee, catching Dragus in his midsection. Dragus let
out an “
oomph,” and reeled backward.

“Look out!” Rita yelled when Lucien crouched low and spun. Matt tried to turn, but Lucien slammed a fist into Matt’s back and sent him sprawling to the floor. “Fucking bastard,” Matt spit out.

Rita’s sweaty palms held the stun pistol steady. She bent her knees to allow for angle and fired. The dart arced low and lodged in Lucien’s right thigh. He yelled and dropped to his knees. Pure rage shot from his eyes.

“Shit!” Rita stared at Lucien. “This should drop you flat. What the hell gives?” Rita adjusted her grip and squeezed the trigger again.

Lucien contorted with spasms and fell to the floor. He clenched his teeth, writhing and moaning.

“Yes, yes,” Rita yelled, “it’s working. That’s more like it.” She chuckled, and held the gun steady, waiting.

“Get him, now,” Anna called out.

Matt and Dragus charged. Matt’s sword glinted in the light as he slashed down. Lucien rolled. Matt grunted as the blade missed and bit into the wood floor with a heavy thunk, leaving a gash where the vampire’s neck had been. Dragus huffed, lumbering after him, bent, and plunged the stake down into the vampire’s stomach.

Lucien’s eyes widened. He kicked up with both legs and slammed Dragus into Matt. The two men tangled, stumbled backward to the open foyer door, yelling and struggling for balance before they hit the porch. Lucien let loose a menacing howl.

Rita took two steps closer and pulled the trigger again. Lucien’s back curved upward into a rigid arc, but he grabbed the lead.
“Lie still, you bastard.”
The wire snapped. Rita looked at the pistol. Her heart dropped to her stomach. “This is a goddamn piece of shit.” She hurled the taser at Lucien’s head.

The gun bounced and Lucien scrambled to his feet, the wood stake jutting from his stomach. He yanked the stake out with a wet, sucking sound. Rita gagged at the rancid smell from his wound. Growling low in his throat, Lucien snapped the stake in half. The crack rang through the room like a rifle shot.

It took a second to comprehend the horror of what she was seeing. His rage curdled her guts. Sweat stuck to her like warm glue.

Anna steered her chair closer to Lucien and splashed the holy water at him. She reversed quickly. He slapped at his jacket,
then
shrugged it off, his drab white shirt splotched with gray holes.

“The hell with keeping secrets,” Rita muttered and stooped behind Anna’s chair. Her fingers fumbled at her belt for her cell phone. She dropped it, crawled on all fours to reach it. Hitting the speed dial to the station, she shouted their location and called for help. Lucien bellowed, shoved Anna and the chair aside and struck the phone. The casing shattered against the wall. Rita dropped flat, praying her message had gotten through.

Matt lunged with the sword, striking sideways at the vampire’s neck. Lucien ducked and stiff-armed Matt in the chest. Matt’s teetering momentum carried him out onto the porch. The planks squealed under his falling weight.

“Uncle, the spray,” Rita called out from the floor.

Dragus pushed off the wall and aimed the spray. Lucien screamed and rubbed at his eyes. Dragus backed away.

“Hurry!”
Anna shouted.

Jaw clenched tight, Rita leaped to her feet and ran at Lucien with her dagger. A sharp swat to her head threw her across the foyer, her motion halted when she stumbled up onto the staircase. She yelped and twisted before hitting a step to keep from sticking herself with the dagger. A jolt of fire shot from her tailbone to her head. Stunned, she stifled a sob and lay sideways on the stairway.

Anna dug inside her bag. She brought out a green, square tin, opened the lid, and began chanting in the old, gypsy tongue.

Lucien turned to Anna with a sneer on his face.

Pouring granules into her cupped palm, she licked them from her palm, poured more, and blew them into the air. They powdered down to coat her hair, face, and shawl.

Lucien deflected the bolt fired from the porch and took a step toward Anna. “That spell will not help you tonight, Granddaughter.”

Dragus limped in front of Anna, grasping the remaining stake in one hand and the spray can in the other.

“Please, leave them alone,” Rita begged. She tried to move, but fell back in pain.

Lucien grabbed Dragus’s hand holding the stake and swung him into the wall. Dragus dropped the can, it rattled across the floor. Gritty soot rained from the ceiling.

 
Matt eased forward, sword hilt now gripped in both hands, his chest heaving. Dragus, shaking off his daze, lagged a step behind.

An inhuman roar filled the foyer. Rita flinched. Lucien stepped back and yanked on a stud. The beam screeched in protest as the nails ripped from their moorings. More falling grit clouded the air. He swung the board wide and swiped the two men, sending them careening toward the corner. Rita screamed. Dragus hit the doorframe and let out a loud yell. Matt bounced off the wall and fell to his hands and knees, panting for air. Dragus slid to the floor.

Helpless, Rita took in Uncle’s face, mottled with pain, and the sound of Matt’s ragged breathing as he began running his hands over the floor.

Had he lost his cross? Panic built inside her.

Dragus wiggled into the corner, holding his stomach, moaning. Anna backed her chair closer to the shelves. She continued chanting, reached into her tote again, and held her crystal ball tight. Again, red smoke swirled inside the orb.

Lucien bent, lifted Matt by the throat and pinned him against the solid wall. Lucien snarled and tilted his head. His lips spread and pulled back wide. His fangs grew long.

Matt gurgled and gasped for air. His eyes glazed. His fists stopped pummeling at Lucien and fell loose to his sides.

“MOVE,” a voice in Rita’s head shrieked. Gritting her teeth against the pain, she struggled to stand. She felt the shift of her spine when it cracked into place. Moving a little easier, she crept behind Lucien, stood, and plunged the wood dagger deep into his back. “Die, you perverted bastard!”

Lucien dropped Matt. The vampire’s knees buckled.

Rita pulled the dagger out to strike again, but Lucien’s arm swung back and swatted her to the floor. He twisted, wrapped his fingers in her long hair and tugged. “Thank you, My Pretty, for pulling it back out.”

She cried out in pain. ”Fuck you.” Her head went woozy and the room shifted.

Wheezing for breath.
Matt managed a kick behind Lucien’s knees. The vampire stumbled and let go of her hair. Taking advantage, Rita rolled her body across the debris littered floor until she reached the studded wall. Glass piled against the beam bit into her scalp above her ear. She yelped, pushed to sit up, and pressed a hand to her wound. Sweat mixed with blood dripped down her cheek.

Lucien walked to the entry door. He stopped short and picked up a long glass shard. He turned toward Rita and drew his arm back over his head. He smiled. Her breath caught.

“NO!” Matt’s shout erupted the same instant he crouched and threw his body sideways in front of Rita to fend off the thrown shard. He landed on his side with a thump and lay motionless.

Rita choked on a sob.

A low keening came from Anna. She hugged the ball to her chest.

Warm blood dribbled down Rita’s cheek and stained her sweatshirt. The ribbed collar felt clammy against her skin. The amulet grew lead-heavy, the chain pulling on the back of her neck. She glanced down, the blood dripping onto the amulet had turned the crystal from clear to a deep purple. It had never changed colors before. A shadow blocked the light. She looked up and cursed her ancestors who had let this monster live.

Lucien loomed above her, his eyes wide and focused on her chest. Purple rays shot out of the amulet like a prism, the varying shades bounced over Lucien’s face. He hissed. His fangs receded. He threw an arm over his eyes and slowly, he eased away from her.

What the fuck?

The vampire turned and maneuvered around Anna, then grabbed her under her arms. He lifted her out of the chair and used her body as a shield to block the rays. Anna uttered a cry. Lucien shook her like a rag doll. The crystal ball rolled to the floor.

Fear for Anna lent new strength to Rita’s voice. “Leave her alone.”

“Daughter,” Anna gasped. “Ball….”

 
“Let her go, you fucking corpse!” Rita yelled so loud, her chest burned.

 
“Get the ball,” Anna whimpered.

Lucien turned and flung Anna over his shoulder like an old cape, her long hair streaming down past his hips. “I will teach you a lesson, Pretty One, and take our Anna. The man will die. Soon, I will hunt each of my descendants and break their bones like dry twigs.” He ran out into the settling darkness.

Rita swiped at the blood on her face,
then
felt the amulet. The purple rays had ceased. She didn’t have time to think about it, and looked around at the destruction. Dragus lay in the corner, holding his stomach, crying. She staggered to her feet, bent and felt for a pulse in Matt’s neck.
Still beating.
The shard had struck him deep. Her fingers circled one of the Maglites. She scooped up the crystal ball. Ignoring the throbbing pain in her head and hip, she followed Lucien and Anna into the night.

Chapter Fourteen

Rita limped across the porch, the beam from her flashlight piercing the gloom. She cradled the crystal ball in the crook of her arm. The cold breeze dried her sweat, and the blood stiffened on her face. She took a few tentative steps into the yard. Anna screamed. Rita swung the light beam at the sound. Lucien carried Anna toward his van, her arms down his back beating at him furiously. Rita ignored the cramping in her legs and ran in an uneven gait, her focus centered on Anna.

“Bring the ball,” Anna yelled.

Lucien tossed Anna onto the front seat, shoved her roughly aside, and scrambled in after her.

As Rita drew nearer, she made out Anna framed in the windshield caught in the flashlight beam. The motor roared to life, breaking the silence of the night. The headlights lit the transit van parked in front of it. Anna raked at Lucien’s face with her nails,
then
grabbed at the steering wheel. The van rolled inches backward and stopped.

“Ma!”

The van rolled again and stopped.

Rita moved as fast as she could over the uneven ground with the crystal ball pressed against her stomach to keep from dropping it. Her calves burned. She panted for breath.

The motor sputtered, coughed and died. The back wheels rested on the edge of the slope. The passenger door opened. The interior light switched on.