Necrophobia (26 page)

The vampire’s grip was inhumanly strong; Claire couldn’t break free and she felt her neckguard tearing away from its straps. The hot foetid breath of decay and unwashed teeth washed over her. Foam forming around the corners of the vampires mouth as it tried to bite into her throat. She punched outwards with her left fist out of desperation when the creature recoiled. The scent of burned flesh a welcome reprieve over the vampire’s stench. It’s grip loosened over her shoulder as she punched it again. Her mother’s silver ring around her finger burning into the vampire as she struck it.

Thanks Adrian.
With renewed strength she forced the ring further into the creatures face and held it in place as it burned. The creature was distracted and howled in pain she reached for the straps around her chest. With her right hand she freed a silver stake and stabbed upwards with every ounce of strength she could into the creatures chest. The effect was immediate and the feral vampire flopped onto her all signs of life vanishing before her eyes. Allowing herself a moment to breath she rolled the dead vampire off her and looked down at her kill. She saw the silver stake embedded within its heart and allowed herself a sign of relief. Hayley staggered towards her soaked in the other vampire’s blood and whistled.

“Nicely done.” She managed before investigating the third vampire. Claire looked away as Hayley finished the job and decapitated the malnourished horror. “You can never be too sure.”

Claire remained at a loss for words and fought back the bile rising in her throat. She reasoned it was a mixture of adrenaline, stress and disgust. Instead she fumbled at her helmet and neckguard to distract herself. She was now sincerely grateful for them despite their awkwardness. Hayley handed Claire her sword back and reclaimed her own crossbow.

“I think we can guess what’s happened to the prisoners they captured.” She waved a hand at the bodies.

“What do they gain from this?”

Officer Rosenfeld shrugged. “Who can say. There’s thousands of these bloody things just a few miles north. Why go through the effort?”

They walked in silence as they investigated the rest of the basement, littered in places with both vampire and Night Guard bodies. Hayley’s mood worsened as they found no sign of her informant, Inspector Thorn or Natascha.

“They’ve got to be here somewhere.” Hayley insisted as she kicked aside a vampire corpse blocking a doorway. The walls were splashed with blood and gouged with claw marks. “The perimeter is surrounded. Isobel would’ve warned us if anything slipped out.”

Claire hesitated. “Is there anything she might not have told us?”

“No.” She shook her head and flicked on a light switch. The darkened corridor revealed another massacre of dead vampires and malnourished prisoners. “Why?”

“I like to be sure.” Claire replied with a shrug. She pointed towards another stairwell leading even further below the warehouse complex. “What do you want to do? We can either go back and regroup with Isobel or try and destroy the source of the psychic interference.”

“We stick with the plan.” Hayley folded her arms and leaned her crossbow against her shoulder. “We leave now and I’ll never hear the end of it. Thorn’s not pinning this one on me. We’ll find him and Natascha and drag their sorry arses back to the station.”

“If they’re still alive.”
If we’re still alive.

“
They will be.” Her voice remained resolute.

A wave of energy crackled through the air and the lights flickered. The sensation made her hair stand on end as the magic below dissipated. Even with her limited magical ability Claire could feel the power pulsing from below. Hayley lead the way her crossbow drawn with Claire covering their back as they advanced down the steps. The air was warmer down here and distinctly acrid, the smell of noxious chemicals mixed with the sweeter tones of decay. The first door they entered opened into what looked like an operating theatre. An overhead lamp shone over the operating table. Restraint straps and shackles were left open and nearby benches were overturned. Scalpels and medical supplies littered the floor. With no sign of their occupants they continued further through the second basement, passing by more operating theatres and barred rooms. They passed squalid holding cells crusted with unpleasant stains, some of the bars were bent out of shape and split open. Water dripped and pooled in places from age and neglect. Hayley and Claire spun around weapons held ready upon hearing a muffled groan coming from one of the few chambers they’d yet to visit. Expecting the worst they headed towards the chamber, one of its metal doors left ajar. Another flickering cold blue-white light glared through the crack in the doors and blinded them as they listened. As they strained their ears they could hear a muffled and rapid breathing coming from nearby.

With a mutual nod Hayley went in first opening the door with the tip of her crossbow. Expecting the door to creak it came as a pleasant surprise when it didn’t. It was another operating theatre like many kept beneath the dingy warehouse basement but this time something was different. Within the centre of the room a man was strapped onto the operating table with leather straps and metal shackles. Clad in a distinctive black coat and what remained of a silver breastplate the captive was a member of the Night Guard. The helmetless man noticed them coming and his eyes widened. With his industrial masking tape stuck over his mouth he was unable to move or say anything but he struggled to make himself heard.

“Niklaus!” Hayley breathed in disbelief, lowering her crossbow and trying to find some manner of key or mechanism to release him. Niklaus Thorn shook his head violently from side to side and struggled against his binding. She ripped off the masking tape eliciting a pained grunt. Sensing danger Claire tried to warn Hayley when a voice from the side spoke.
“Drop your weapons.” It commanded. It was an order and Claire couldn’t disobey. Her short-bow fell out of her hands onto her feet and she stood in shock. She cursed and tried to reclaim her weapon but the command was absolute. The authority that voice wielded almost unbelievable. A tall and greasy black haired woman approached them from behind, her greying lab coat stained with flesh blood. Her gnarled hands twitched and flexed but were otherwise empty.

“Drop it.” The woman commanded again. Hayley flinched and even hidden behind a helmet Claire could see the internal struggle to resist. The Night Guard twitched and gripped onto her crossbow as tightly as she could.

Shame deepened within Claire as she stood unarmed and powerless as the spider-like woman drew closer.

“You’re just what I’ve been looking for.”

Sevaur shielded his eyes from the blinding red light as the sun began to set on Kriegsfeld. Harsh rays filtered down through the smog and busy skyline of the city and caught him by surprise as he walked. With Adrian nowhere to be found Sevaur was tired of waiting. As curfew fast approached the streets were busy and packed with people making their way home. Merchants closed up their stalls, factory workers dragged themselves towards either a bar or a place to rest. The Night Guard patrols were switching shifts and the street was flooded with people. In the distance he could make out the distinctive beak of a Plague doctor mask as they carted away victims of the plague. He eased himself through the crowds as he headed uphill towards the Night Guard station. Between the crowds and his hazy memory it was difficult to remember the route. Bathed in an orange-red glow the city seemed different and more alive than usual; a final rush of activity before the stillness of the long nights. The cool breeze rushing in from across the Endless Ocean reminded him of home. He paused and shielded his eyes once more, from the streets he could see the docks below and shimmering sea. Caelholm was too far away to be even a speck upon the horizon. Without warning a hand grabbed his mouth from behind and dragged him into a side street. He kicked out in a panic and struck flesh, his attacker reeled in pain. Sevaur threw himself into his assailant and drove his metal elbow pads into an exposed throat. The man fell forwards choking and spluttering, gripping his bleeding throat with one hand. A second attacker leapt into him and tried to throw him to the ground. Sevaur turned his momentum into an impromptu roll and kicked his feet out tripping over the second man. The alleyway was narrow and cluttered with metal skips and bins. Rats scurried as more thugs stepped over their fallen comrades to reach him. There were no weapons drawn yet, whoever they were wanted him alive and in one piece. For now at least.

“Stay back!” He shouted. With his left hand he sprayed fire forth from his gauntlet and incinerated the littered ground in front of him. The flames began to spread rising up to form a wall of fire between him and his attackers. They paused as they sized up the fire. Knowing it wouldn’t last long Sevaur turned and ran as fast as he could down the rest of the alleyway. Arms pumping and breath quick and shallow he rushed over discarded rubbish and overturned bins trying to distance himself. Turning another corner he leapt over a set of barrels blocking the way and kept going. He could hear shouting and heavy footsteps behind him. The alleys lacked anywhere to hide and the shops were too close together in places to allow him between them. Overhead fire escapes loomed tantalisingly out of reach, each ladder locked preventing access.

Why didn’t I become a Caelite! Then I could jump up there!

Behind him the shouting grew closer. He had no idea how many were chasing and wasn’t going to stop to find out. He forced himself onwards, his breath heavy now. The station couldn’t be too far away now he just had to keep going. Out in the busy street he could attract the Night Guard to defend him. He leapt over more overturned crates and slipped forwards on spillage from a nearby waste disposal. The overwhelming stench of rotten fish flooding his nostrils as he panted for air was not helping. Stumbling forwards he tried to catch himself from falling. As he steadied himself a man dropped down in front of him blocking his passage. Sevaur caught a flash of steel armour as the man rose from a crouch. The man before him was tall and wrapped in a dusty brown long coat with greying salt and pepper hair and a weary expression. Beneath the long coat Sevaur saw the unmistakable sheen on Caelite armour.
Falkner!
Caught between thugs behind him and the traitorous Caelite in front of him he reached for his sword. Falkner flicked his hand out and Sevaur was thrown backwards. He slammed into a wall hitting the wall hard and knocking his breath out of him. With a sharp beckon Sevaur’s sword flew out of his hand and into Falkner’s outstretched gauntlet, carried by potent aeromancy.

“You’re coming with me.”

“The hell I will!” His hand aflame with magic he tried to rise and burn the traitor.

Falkner dashed forwards and held Sevaur’s own sword up against his throat. His expression hardly faltered. “Don’t.”

His eyes flickered towards his accomplices behind Sevaur. They grabbed Sevaur by the arms and blindfolded him.

The strange woman crept closer towards them as Hayley struggled against her compulsion to drop her crossbow. Claire felt transfixed by the odd mixture of graceful movement with the woman’s disquieting and unpleasant demeanour. Unlike the rest of the vampires she’d encountered, this one was almost hypnotic; possessing both a subtle mind-altering presence and the power to bend mortal minds to her will with just her voice. Claire shivered as the vampire stood inches away watching the fear in Claire’s eyes and inspecting her Night Guard mask. Up close the vampire’s skin was pale and sunken; her cold expression lacked any compassion whatsoever. The longer Claire stared at her, the more the vampire’s features shifted and alternated between attractive and alluring to monstrous and unsettling. Like oil and water each refused to mix together creating an optical illusion that was difficult to look away from.

“Where’s Haures and Natascha?” Hayley asked through gritted teeth.

The vampire turned with predatory interest towards Hayley. “Making himself useful I hope. I’m sure that noble brat is scurrying around interfering with things that do not concern her.” She tilted her head. “Like you three.”