Kacy sensed that Dante just
needed some reassurance that she would be okay without him. She slipped her arm
around his waist and leaned her head against his shoulder.
‘Go do what you gotta do with
Vanity,’ she said. ‘You don’t need me. I’ll text the Bourbon Kid and let him
know what you’re doing. Hopefully he’ll get there and be able to help you out.’
Dante kissed her then ran his
hand through her long dark hair. ‘This’ll be a piece of cake,’ he said. ‘We’ll
be in and out of the museum and back here before you know it.’
‘You’d better be.’
Vanity interrupted their tender
moment. ‘Let’s get moving,’ he said, nodding toward the front doors.
Dante kissed Kacy on the
forehead and pulled himself away. ‘See you soon, babe,’ he said.
Vanity started jogging down the
aisle towards the front doors with Dante following on just behind. Kacy watched
them go and wondered for one awful moment if she would see them again. She’d
acted calm so that Dante wouldn’t worry, but deep down she was terrified of
what might happen to him when he confronted Gaius. She was also having
suspicions about how trustworthy Vanity was. Why was he being so secretive with
his phone? Had he really been talking to his friend Moose? And if so, why did
he have to do it out of earshot?
As Dante was following Vanity
through the door and out into the street, she called after him. ‘I love you.’
Dante stopped and looked back.
‘I love you too, babe.’
As he pulled the door shut
behind him, Kacy made one last plea that he probably didn’t hear. ‘Try not to
get yourself killed this time!’
Forty-Six
Bull’s palms were sweating. He’d
been in far more dangerous predicaments than this and remained completely calm.
But this was different. He was standing in a giant hall in the Casa de Ville
waiting for the conclusion to a plan he’d waited over half his life to
complete: the opportunity to avenge his father’s death. On a couple of previous
occasions he’d come close. Two days ago he’d even sawn off a man’s head only to
find he and his men had been outwitted and had killed the wrong guy. This time
would be different. With all the chaos and carnage going on outside there was a
feeling of finality about this situation. It would all end tonight.
Unfortunately at this point, the outcome was unclear. Either he would kill the
Bourbon Kid, or die trying.
He kept his stare fixed on the
doors at the end of the hall. Any second now his nemesis could come storming
through those doors. For that reason, he was glad to have Tex with him. Tex
specialised in counterintelligence and would have every possible route into the
hall etched into his mind. From the obvious selection, the doors, right through
to the less obvious possibilities, like air vents, if there were any. And Tex
had his own reasons for wanting to kill the Kid. He wanted to avenge the death
of Silvinho.
Bull concealed himself behind a
white concrete pillar on the left hand side of the huge hall. Tex was a few
yards behind him, tucked out of sight behind a large unsightly statue of a
centaur situated by the side of the flight of stairs that led up to the control
room where Razor was guarding Beth.
Bull kept his gun pointed at the
doors. Every second felt like a minute as he waited for his enemy to arrive. He
only took his eyes off the doors momentarily to glance over at Tex. Tex was
checking all around him, his head constantly on the move. If anything or anyone
tried sneaking up on them, he would see it. The two men’s eyes met for a
fleeting moment. They’d shared looks like this many times over the course of their
careers. It was a look of trust and mutual respect. Bull turned his gaze back
on the doors, secure in the knowledge that he had his best man with him,
watching his back.
Then in one horrible moment the
whole scenario changed. The entire hall was plunged into total darkness.
Bull analysed the situation
immediately. Either the power had been cut or someone had switched off the
lights from within the hall. He listened carefully. Unfortunately the only
sounds were coming from far away. The undead war in the courtyard outside was
not relenting. But inside the main hall, things were very different. Nothing
moved. Nothing made a noise.
The lights had been off for
almost thirty seconds before he finally heard something. From behind him there
was a quiet slapping noise, followed by a muffled yelp. He swivelled around,
the toes of his boots turning on a dime. All he could see was pitch darkness.
He still knew his bearings. He knew exactly how far he was from every pillar,
every statue and every wall in the hall. But was Tex still with him?
‘Tex,’ he whispered loudly. ‘You
okay?’
Tex did not respond. Bull was no
fool. He knew what that meant. Tex was most likely dead. That would explain the
muffled yelp. The Bourbon Kid was in the hall with them. In the darkness.
Another sound broke the deathly
silence. It came from high above on the opposite side of the room. It sounded
like glass breaking. Two more almost identical sounds followed moments later,
from different areas of the giant hall. Bull had no choice. He had to get some
lights back on. On the wall behind him there was a light switch. He just had to
get to it before the Kid got to him. Drawing on much of the experience he’d
picked up working behind enemy lines, he moved silently across the floor with
his free hand outstretched until his fingertips touched the wall. He scoured
the smooth plastered wall, hoping to find the light switch. With his other
hand, he continued to point his gun out into the hall, his finger ready on the
trigger, itching to fire if he heard even the faintest sound.
As soon as he felt his
fingertips brush against the light switch, he flicked it on. The room lit up,
the sudden brightness dazzling him for a split second. As his eyes grew
accustomed to the light he scoured the room for any sign of his enemy. The
first thing he saw was the body of Tex, slumped on the floor in a heap behind
the statue of the centaur. His neck had been broken. It only took a millisecond
for Bull to recognise that. He didn’t have time to dwell on it though. His eyes
continued scouring the room, moving at a million miles an hour. He could see
statues, staircases, pillars and all kinds of other things in the hall. But no
Bourbon Kid.
He exhaled hard, suddenly
realising that he had been holding his breath for an unusually long time. As he
inhaled again, a shadow flashed before his eyes.
It came from above.
And just like that, the face of
the Bourbon Kid appeared right in front of him. From nowhere, suddenly the two
of them were only inches apart. Before he could react, Bull’s gun hand was
knocked back against the wall. His nose cracked too, courtesy of a head-butt
from his enemy. His skull crashed back against the wall behind him and his gun
slipped from his grip as his knuckles bashed against the wall. The lightning
speed of the attack dazed him and by the time he’d reacted and attempted to
lunge forward into his attacker, the Bourbon Kid had a hand wrapped tightly
around his throat.
Bull instinctively shaped to
throw a punch into the Kid’s ribs. But then he spotted a small silver crossbow
pointed at him. The Kid had it in his right hand. He slowly lifted it towards
Bull’s face, stopping just below his nose with a silver dart aimed up his left
nostril.
Bull had seen weapons of its
kind before. It was a specially designed semiautomatic lightweight crossbow,
the kind that made no noise when fired and could easily be concealed within a
baggy sleeve. A fine weapon to have in the dark, or when trying not to make a
sound.
And in the face of the man he
saw before him he recognised his father’s killer. The hood pulled over his face
covered much of it in shadow, but he was still easily recognisable. A gravelly
voice from within the hood spoke out.
‘How did you get mixed up with
all these vampire cunts?’
Struggling for air due to the
Kid’s grip on his throat, Bull only just managed to splutter out an answer.
‘Given the choice between them and you, I choose vampires every time.’
The Kid nodded at the body of
Tex behind him. ‘And now your men are dead. Do you like the way I broke that guy’s
neck? Very symbolic don’tcha think?’
He eased his grip on Bull’s
neck, allowing him to take in a decent breath of air. After taking in a lungful
Bull responded, all the while eyeing up the crossbow that was aimed up his
nose. ‘You’re fucking scum, man. I did nothing to you,’ he said wheezing.
‘You’re the one that killed my father. It should be me here killing you, not
the other way around. I don’t deserve this.’
‘Stop bitching about what you
deserve,’ said the Kid. ‘Tell me where the girl is.’
Bull glanced over at the
staircase in the middle of the hall. ‘She’s upstairs in one of the rooms. You
should hear a gunshot any minute now. As soon as my buddy in the control room
sees you kill me on his monitors, he’ll waste her. And he won’t think twice
about it. He’s already punched her in the face once today.’
The Kid raised half a smile.
‘You think by telling me this, I’m not gonna kill you in case your buddy sees
it on a monitor,’ he said.
‘Yeah. You’d be a fool to kill
me. He sees you kill me and she
dies. Are you willing to take that
risk?’
The Kid tightened his grip on
Bull’s neck again. ‘Since I just shot down all your cameras, you bet I am.’
Bull suddenly realised what the
earlier sounds of breaking glass had signified. All three of the CCTV cameras
in the hall had been disabled. ‘What if you missed one?’ he suggested, a hint
of desperation creeping into his voice.
‘I never miss.’
With that remark the Kid thrust
the end of his crossbow further into Bull’s left nostril. He flicked the
trigger. The silver dart flew out and vanished up into Bull’s nose, through the
back of his eye and into his brain. The sharp tip of it pierced through the top
of his skull as it came to a stop, blood spurting out of the top of his head
like a volcano erupting.
Before allowing Bull’s dead body
to fall he reached over to the light switch and flicked it off again, plunging
the room back into darkness. Confident that the murder had gone unseen he
released his grip on Bull’s throat and allowed his dead body to slide to the
floor.
Out of sight on a balcony high
above, Jessica the Vampire Queen had watched on with interest. So far,
everything had gone exactly the way she had expected. She had the Kid right
where she wanted him. Now she would finally have her revenge for all the pain
he had inflicted upon vampires she cared about. It was time to put the final
part of her plan into action: executing Beth while he watched.
Forty-Seven
Dan Harker had been parked
across the street from the museum for thirty minutes waiting for William Clay
to call him back. He’d left three messages on Clay’s cell phone and he’d also
tried calling the police station numerous times. But Flake was no longer
answering the switchboard. Maybe his trip to the local news station had
backfired? Perhaps the vampires had gotten to the police station? Who knew?
Certainly not Harker.
Thirty minutes of mulling over
his options was long enough. There was nothing else for it. He was going to
have to go into the museum with no back up and arrest Elijah Simmonds on suspicion
of the murder of Bertram Cromwell. Arresting a murder suspect on his own wasn’t
part of protocol, and for good reason. It was dangerous. Especially when the
suspect in question was accused of such a brutal slaying.
There wasn’t a soul in sight as
he stepped out of his car and trudged through the snow and up to the front
doors of the museum. He rang the doorbell in the wall three times and waited
for an answer. Just as he was about to give up and try to find another way in
the doors were opened by James the security guard he had met on his earlier
visit.
‘Hi,’ said Harker. ‘Mind if I
come in for a minute? Wanna see Mr Simmonds about something.'
‘Sure. Come on in.’
James stepped aside to let him
through and then secured the doors shut behind him. ‘Is it as cold out there as
it looks?’ he asked.
‘It’s as cold as I can ever
remember this city being.’
‘Want me to take your coat?’
‘Nah, that’s okay. Just tell me
where I can find Mr Simmonds, please.’
‘He’s down in his office. Want
me to walk you there?’
Harker shook his head. ‘That
won’t be necessary.’
‘Okay. I’ll buzz down and let
him know you’re on your way.’
Harker took a step towards the
corridor that led down to Simmonds’s office. He hesitated a moment then turned
back to the security guard. ‘Actually, would you mind not calling him? I’ve got
some good news for him and I’d like it to be a surprise.’
‘Are you sure it’s good news?’
‘It’s good news.’
‘Good luck to you then,
Captain.’
Harker continued on his way down
the corridor to Simmonds’s office. As soon as he was out of sight of the
security guard he hurried up his pace. If the guard decided to ignore his
request and call ahead to Simmonds, he would lose his element of surprise. As
he approached the large black door at the end of the corridor and saw the
bright silver lettering that read SIMMONDS he pulled his pistol from its
holster by his ribcage.