Blood and Bullets (15 page)

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Authors: James R. Tuck

Tags: #Fantasy, #Vampires

BOOK: Blood and Bullets
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So she had followed one of my friend's contingency plans for taking me off the game board. Weariness crashed on my shoulders. I wanted to be done with this. I waved my hand to Larson.
“Go touch him and let's get this over with. Stay away from the teeth and the hands.”
Larson nodded and took a step over to Gregorios/ Appollonia. He was still holding the cross from earlier. I snapped my fingers to get his attention and took it from him when he looked. However powerful Appollonia may be, she was still a vampire. She could not work through the protection of the cross.
His hand trembled as he reached out to touch Gregorios's chest. I moved close to him, at his back like I was protecting him. Just as his fingers closed in to skim the surface of Gregorios's silk shirt, I lightly brushed my hand on his shoulder, hopefully out of sight of Appollonia. I felt her power stab into him as she gave the location in his mind. It was thin and sharp, like a long needle. A quick, painful jab and it was over.
Larson jumped back like he had touched a live wire. His back hit my arm and he scrambled away, wiping his face. Crimson smeared across his mouth and chin. His nose was bleeding.
No, his nose was gushing. Appollonia's smile on Gregorios's face brightened and fangs slid into view. His nostrils flared wide as she inhaled the scent of Larson's blood.
“Ahhhh, intoxicating.”
My fingers closed on the heavy red drapes. They were made of a velveteen material. It took only one quick snatch to pull them from the wall. Larson caught it when I tossed it his way and began trying to staunch the flow from his nose. My attention swung back to the vampire chained to the X.
“All right, we'll be on our way to see you. Now get the hell out of here.”
Appollonia tilted Gregorios's head again. She was still smiling, but it wasn't a pleasant smile anymore. “We have talked too long. I feel the press of dawn and you will not arrive before then. Come at sunset tonight.” Those cobra eyes locked back on me. “If you come before the sun has left the sky, my renfield will kill the humans.”
I shoved the cross I had taken from Larson into Gregorios's face. Appollonia hissed and threw his head back away from its glow. Steam rose from the skin on Gregorios's face as blisters formed. I leaned in close, locking eyes with the bitch.
“Listen to me. I'll come to you. I'll follow your rules. But ...” Anger pushed my power out from me and into those possessed eyes; something clicked between us and I knew she could feel it. My power pushed down that line and pressed against her. “If they are not alive and unharmed when I arrive, then all bets are off and I will burn you to the ground and salt the earth behind me.” Anger made my power pulse through that connection. “Are we clear?”
Appollonia hissed and then burst into laughter that echoed across the room and trailed off as she left. Gregorios lurched against the chains that held him. He hung limp, as if his bones were made of water. Sweat poured from his face and bloody tears ran thick down his cheeks, dodging and darting around the blisters from the cross. If he wasn't a monster, I would have felt pity for him. I spoke softly. “Tell me about Appollonia. Who is she and what do you know about her?”
The 600-year-old vampire in front of me began sobbing. Great, heaving sobs that wracked his body and shook him in his chains. I had never seen something that could break a vampire of his age. He
was
broken, though. Fear rolled off of him like a stench. I snapped my fingers in his face. “Gregorios, tell me about Appollonia.”
He drew in a deep, quivering breath and rolled his eyes up to look at me. They were back to being an almost black–brown. The whites of them painted crimson with burst blood vessels.
“Don't you see?” His voice was strained and his eyes danced wildly in their sockets like two drunken sailors. “We cannot resist her; she takes over and consumes you. She has become to us what we are to you!” His voice got higher and higher as he strangled out the words. “I can't, I can't be consumed by her! It would be torment!” His voice cut off in a gurgle and Gregorios began sobbing again. It was pitiful. Fear of Appollonia and her power had broken him. That fear had destroyed the fragile balance that is a mind held by vampiric power far past when it should have died.
The barrel of the Desert Eagle made an impression on his forehead. His eyes crossed focusing on it, but they were glazed over and not seeing anything in this reality.
“Don't worry, I will keep her from consuming you.”
He closed those fear-fevered eyes. I took a centering breath—in through my nose, out through my mouth.
I pulled the trigger.
12
My brain would not turn off.
Inky blackness swirled on the edges of my consciousness. I was tired, exhausted actually, but I couldn't shut my brain down long enough to go under. It had been a long night. A really long fucking night, and I had another one coming up at sunset. There were things I had to do before then, hours before, but sunset was when everything would go down.
I was in my room at Polecats. It was still the safest place to be. Freshly showered, I lay on my futon on the floor. It was comfortable and molded to my body. The low whirr of the fan sent a cool breeze of air over my naked skin. A sheet tangled across my groin, but that was all for modesty. Nothing else blocked the soft air from my body. My eyes were closed, but that did not matter since the room was pitch-black anyway. It was an interior room with no windows and a towel under the door. The Desert Eagle lay on the floor beside the mattress, loaded with one in the chamber. I really do sleep better with it there.
Rest. I needed to rest. I needed sleep because I had to rescue Larson's family tonight. I still didn't know for sure why he was even involved. It appeared he really was just bait. Bait and leverage if I wasn't killed. He couldn't rescue his family. He didn't have the strength or the skill, but he wanted to. His anger when I told him we were not going from the brothel to the place in his head threw him into a fit. I could understand why.
I knew the feeling of helplessness when people you love are in danger and there is nothing you can do. I still remembered the sounds coming over the phone. I still remembered the sounds of my children crying and the wet sounds that ended ... ENOUGH!
I had to derail that train NOW! I was too tired to think about my family. That was a road I could not go down. If I did, I would be worthless. I would be crippled. The tears on my face dried in the air from the fan and I pushed my mind away from those memories.
After our argument in the car as to why we were doing what we were doing, I had to have Father Mulcahy put Larson somewhere he could not leave. He had the directions in his head like a messenger pigeon, and if he got out, I knew he would head to Appollonia. I needed him to find her, so he was under lock and key. Kat was working on finding something about her. Gregorios was broken by Appollonia's possession, so I did not get as much information from him as I should have. I had actually felt a little pity for him. He was a vampire and so I put him down, but I had done it partially as a mercy.
Appollonia was a truly scary bitch if she had me feeling any sympathy for a creature like Gregorios.
And make no mistake about it, he was a monster. Kat had a full report of information about him when we got back. He hadn't seduced any of his kiss. His pleasure was finding a victim, raping them, then drinking from them to enjoy the flavor all their terror gave the blood. If he really enjoyed the rape, then he would turn them so he could continue in his fun.
This explained why his kiss was all female and why he had them working in a whorehouse. His businesses were his hunting grounds, and all of them also filtered drugs to boost his income and victim availability. Being a vampire was enough to get him killed, but Gregorios had been a real piece of shit too.
Thoughts of Appollonia kept my mind racing also. Speaking to her through Gregorios had been bizarre in itself, but the tone of the conversation had me puzzled. The bitch actually flirted with me. I could not wrap my head around that. I mean, I am well aware when I am being flirted with, and Appollonia sounded genuine. Maybe she was trying to throw me off the fact that she had tried to have me killed. Maybe, but it wouldn't work. Hell no, it wouldn't.
The change in her tack had me wondering, though. There had to be a way I could turn it to my advantage. I didn't know enough about what was going on to formulate a real battle plan. That's okay, though, I have a hard time planning anyway. As I said, I am more of a “kill 'em all, let God sort it out” kind of guy. But maybe she really did mean her flirting.
I have found in my time on this earth that while I do not appeal to every woman, I do appeal to some. Because my appearance is so polarizing, the women who like the way I look
really
like the way I look. There are women in this world who I just trip their trigger.
I'm not handsome. Definitely not a pretty boy. What I am is much bigger than a normal man. Most men are under 6 foot tall, and usually weigh in under 250 lbs. At 6 foot 4 inches tall and topping the scales at 320 lbs. in my winter weight, I tower over almost everyone I meet. I keep in shape. I'm not a bodybuilder, but if you are going to kill monsters for a living, you cannot slack on the exercise.
The tattoos also do it for a lot of women. I am covered in tattoos. All kinds of tattoos. Both of my arms are sleeved, including my hands and knuckles. I have tattoos covering my chest, throat, and the back of my head, which I keep shaved. Chicks also really like the shaved head. To sum up, I am a big, bald, tattooed, scary-looking dude, and that gets some women right in their naughty bits.
Maybe this applied to Appollonia. Yes, she was a bloodsucking, undead, soulless monster. But she had been a human woman once. Maybe she was attracted to guys like me. If so, maybe it had some possibilities.
From what I could tell, she had tried to kill me because I am a threat to her plans. I might never find out if that is the case, but now I didn't care. Things had changed. Tonight was going to be about getting Larson's family out alive. I know vampires, and I did not think we would be able to get them out unharmed. So alive would have to do. I had doubts about even accomplishing that much.
Like I said, I know vampires. They are treacherous. They don't lie as bad as demons, but they are still untrustworthy. I had to work on the premise that they were alive because it was all I had. I knew I could count on the promise of their death if we arrived before sunset, but that was my only guarantee.
If Appollonia does not keep her word, though, I would burn her place to the ground with her in it.
And I would use Larson for the match.
13
My dream was not pleasant. It was full of fire and blood and spiderwebs. Dark and spooky, I kept seeing Appollonia's eyes and hearing the voices of my family. The dream was disjointed and unnerving. In the dream there was nothing to strike at, just a deepening dread that threatened to turn my bones into water. Softly, Appollonia's voice called my name and every nerve in my spine froze with fear.
Then she touched me.
My eyes popped opened. It took a second to realize that I had my gun in my hand and a woman pinned to my bed. Blinking away sleep, I looked down at the girl. Blue-black hair wildly framed a small, cute face. Her blue eyes were wide with fear, staring unblinkingly at me above her. Tiny white teeth bit into her full bottom lip, and her pixie chin trembled a little. She looked familiar and I worked to make my freshly awake mind place her.
It took a second because the last time I had seen that face it was covered in thick Goth makeup. It was Tiffany, or Tiff, if I preferred.
Pushing off, I scrambled off the mattress. Standing to put my back against the wall made it so I could see her and the open doorway. Brightness from the hallway spilled on the bed, framing Tiff in a box of light like a cage. She did not move and lay looking up at me, eyes still wide. I kept the gun pointing at her. Other than me and her, the room was empty. I didn't know what was going on and I wasn't taking any chances.
“What the hell are you doing here?”
Tiff looked at me. Her lips moved, but her voice didn't work. She swallowed and tried again. Her voice was high pitched with nervousness and her words tumbled out in a rush. “I came by for the job like you said last night. Kat gave me to the priest to start working. They were both really busy and I don't think they knew what to do with me so the priest told me to go get paper towels from the storeroom and sent me back here so I thought this room was the storeroom and I opened the door”—she took a deep, gulping breath and went right back to her explanation—“and I saw you so came in I didn't mean to do anything I just wanted to thank you for the job and getting me out of that club and I called your name and you moved and then I touched your arm and you grabbed me and threw me down with that gun in your hand”—another great big breath—“and I am sorry, so
sorry
I shouldn't have come in here I wasn't trying to hurt you or scare you.” With that she did move and sit up and put her face in her hands, tears streaming from her eyes. “I'm really sorry, sorry, sorry. I didn't mean to. I'm sorry.” Her voice got quieter with each “sorry” until it was a tissue-thin whisper.
Shit.
Now I felt like an asshole. I live a life of monsters and blood and death, and because of that I had almost killed this innocent girl. I stopped pointing the gun at her. With a deep breath I let the tension in my body flow out and my nerves to settle from DEFCON 1 to DEFCON 5. The fan made the air swirl across my body in a soothing manner.
I realized I was standing there naked.
Good going, Deacon. Smooth. Really, really smooth. Walking around the futon, I went over to the closet and opened the door. Flipping on the light, I set the gun on the small dresser inside that held socks and underwear. Opening the drawers, I took out both. Before you ask, I am a boxer brief guy. Glancing over my shoulder, I saw Tiff wasn't hiding her face anymore. She was watching me. To hell with it, she had seen the full Monty so I just slipped my boxer briefs on and then pulled out some clothes to wear.
I chose my clothes with tonight in mind. Leather pants that laced up the side. They were durable and actually comfortable, as long as it was fall. No way I could wear leather pants in the summer here in the South, I would melt. The leather pants were real-deal biker wear and made from thick leather designed to protect against road rash. I liked them. Besides being comfortable and durable, I knew they would make me look more impressive.
Tonight I didn't know what to expect, so I dressed myself to look like a threat. Sometimes you can get an edge in a confrontation just based on your appearance. The intimidation factor. Of course, I was dealing with vampires and who knew what else, so I doubted the edge would do much good, but better to try.
I grabbed a shirt, button up and short sleeve, black with a blue threaded pattern on it. A silver-studded belt went through the loops of the pants, and a matching set of silver-studded bracelets was around my wrists. The shoulder holster for the Desert Eagle attached to the belt. I slipped on my socks and boots, then unbuttoned my shirt and applied deodorant and cologne.
My cologne is Escape for Men by Calvin Klein. Occasionally I will switch it with Acqua di Gioia but mostly I wear Escape. I like the way I smell with it. My body chemistry and Escape really work in my opinion. A little unscented lotion for the hands and face, a quick comb through the goatee, and I was dressed. I put the Desert Eagle in its holster and slipped the Taurus at my back and I was ready to face the day. I still had a scared girl on my bed, but at least I wasn't naked now. Score one for progress.
Speaking of, I turned to Tiff. She was still on the bed but had moved to the edge of the mattress. She had her feet on the floor, her arms around her legs, and her chin on her knees. The pose actually made her look pretty cute. Adorable, in fact. It was a great improvement over looking afraid for her life.
“Sorry about that. I'm a little jumpy when I wake up.” That was an understatement, to say the least.
Her eyes got wide and she shook her head. “No, I shouldn't have come in here. It was my fault.”
In my head I sighed. I hoped my voice was patient as I spoke, but I can never tell. I usually come off as an asshole when I try not to. It's like I can't help it. “We can go round and round about whose fault it is, Tiff. It doesn't matter. You shouldn't have woken me up, but you didn't know that I would come to with a gun in my hand.” I moved over until I was standing in front of her.
She looked up at me with her bright blue puppy-dog eyes. They were a bit red and swollen from crying, but she didn't look scared now, not at all. I held out a hand to her to take. The skin of her palm was cool and soft. The bones delicate under my fingers. Closing my grip, I pulled her up from the bed. Her head came to my chest.
“I say we call it even and go try to round up some food. I'm starving and I think you should know what we have going on here if you are going to be around.”
A nod and a smile on her part and we were off downstairs to find some grub.

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