Sam Harlan (Book 3): Damned Cold (16 page)

There was a noise from the pit and I turned to see the vampire jump and sail up in the air as if shot by a cannon, only to smash against some unseen force and go hurtling back to the concrete floor. It stopped and became unnaturally still. The vampire had heavy black eyeliner and was dressed like a goth, but nothing could hide the utter hatred on its face.

“It’s trapped,” I whispered. I tried to sound calm, never taking my eyes from the vampire in the pit. “It must be held in place the same way Callie is.”

Maybe I was exhausted, or hungry, or bruised from the wreck. Maybe I was in shock from finding a vampire. Or maybe my sluggish brain didn’t fully comprehend the situation.

There was a stirring of something against the back of my neck, like the tickle of a feather, then it became more intense, like a lover’s caress, and then the spell holding Callie gave way.

When it did, so did the spell warding the pit.

The vampire’s eyes locked onto mine as the spell collapsed, and then it jumped with inhuman strength, flying over my head and over Mosley, heading for the door.

I wasn’t about to let that monster loose into the world, not even if it meant announcing my presence to the witches.

I lunged forward,
shoving Mosley out of the way and sending him sprawling to the ground. Amazingly, I caught the vampire’s ankle with my left hand.

As surprised as I was, I wasn’t half as surprised as the vampire. It turned to glare at me as it slammed to the concrete. A bone-rattling thump coursed up my arm and into my spine, making my teeth rattle. The vampire was barefoot, and it twisted, kicking at my wrist and forcing me to release my hold on it.

I was bringing the knife down when the vampire twisted out from under me. I hit the floor hard enough to knock the air from my lungs, then scrambled up, breathing hard and trying to regain my hold. I almost caught its ankle again, but I slipped and caught only the bottom cuff of its jeans. I yanked hard and sent the vampire spinning to the floor.

It was like trying to cage a lightning bolt. The vampire squirmed and rolled away every time I bought the knife down. It kept kicking me, its bare feet smashing into my stomach and ribs like a baseball bat, but I wasn’t about to give up. It scrambled down the hall and I struggled after it.

I couldn’t kill it, but it couldn’t quite manage to break free, either.

It’s a weak youngling. It could be the daylight weakening it, or maybe it hasn’t fed recently.

The door to the room where Callie was held had opened, and Jameson was helping Callie through the doorway. Her eyes were open but unfocused, and she took a tentative step forward. The vampire turned and lashed out at her, and its claws raked across Callie’s legs and narrowly missed slicing through Jameson’s groin.

Callie jerked back and screamed, then Jameson was praying and the crucifix around his neck was glowing like the sun, and I heard yelling from farther down the hallway.

The vampire recoiled and finally broke free of my grasp, heading for the north door. Officer Gary stood in the doorway, his mouth open in surprise, and Randy Korman stood behind him.

The vampire was on the police officer before I could catch up, and I heard a sickening squelch as the vampire shoved its claws through Gary’s bowels, ripping his intestines out like long pink worms. Gary’s face registered shock, then agony, as he was disemboweled.

Randy Korman backpedaled furiously, mouthing words in a language I didn’t understand. A howling wind blasted down the hallway, but the vampire shrugged it off and lunged at Gary’s neck, ripping out the officer’s throat.

Blood sprayed in time to the man’s heartbeat, long hot spurts that arced through the air and splattered against the plywood walls. Randy’s eyes widened as Officer Gary collapsed to the ground. The vampire, energized from the fresh blood, lunged for Korman, its bloody claws outstretched.

It hadn’t counted on me.

A white-hot rage washed over me as I finally neared the doorway and caught the vampire’s t-shirt with my hand. I rammed the silver Bowie knife through the vampire’s back and through its heart until the resistance gave as the tip erupted between its breasts.

The vampire whipped around, black eyes full of hate boring into mine, but it was too late. Flames burst from its chest, and it thrashed about on the concrete, the fire spreading across its body.

It grabbed for me, but I sidestepped its claws. The fire spread and it took only seconds before the vampire was reduced to a stinking pile of greasy ash.

The vampire’s life-force, or whatever the hell animated it, rushed into me like an electric shock, sliding inside my skin and filling me with hunger.

I gasped, choking for air. For a brief moment I thought I would die from asphyxiation, then the dark energy settled down, joining the rest of the vampire energies rattling around my soul, the darkness that threatened to one day turn
me
into a vampire.

Like Jack.

The thought of turning, like Jack had in Tangier, scared the hell out of me.

I didn’t have time to worry. I looked up to see Randy Korman, his lips drawn back in a snarl, waving his hands and then a wave of magic hammered me to the ground.

* * *

The voice was low and rough and insistent.
Wake up.

I tried to speak, but the words didn’t come. Finally, I managed something equally insistent.
Don’t want to.

The voice spoke with more urgency.
Wake up, boy. This ain’t getting the job done.

I don’t care about the job. I want to rest.

You want to be me, boy, you got to get your ass up and do the job.

My heart hammered in my chest and I jerked awake. The light was bright and hurt my head. I blinked, then realized I was squeezing something soft and fleshy.

Father Jameson stood over me, his eyes bulging out of his head. His face was turning purple and he was making terrible choking noises and beating at my hands in a futile attempt to break free.

I realized I was choking the life out of the priest. Randy Korman was frantically pulling at my hands, trying to remove them from Jameson’s throat. Korman’s lips were moving and there was a buzzing against the back of my neck.

I released my hold on Jameson, who fell to the floor and clutched at his throat, and then turned my attention to Randy. “You go any further with that spell, old man, and I’ll beat your fucking brains out before you finish.”

Randy’s grizzled face went red, but there must have been something in my voice because he took a halting step back and the buzz against my neck stopped.

I sat in the oak chair where Callie had been bound. Jameson lay at my feet. Korman stood behind him. A man and three women, all dressed in casual clothes and none of whom I recognized, stood against the wall watching me with fear and suspicion.

Another woman sobbed hysterically over Officer Gary’s dead body, her black ponytail bobbing up and down as she cried, and I recognized her as the woman who had been with Gary at the Subway restaurant.

Janice Korman and Jodie Rexford were speaking in hushed tones to Callie, who sat on a stool near the door. They had stripped Callie’s jeans off and were working on her legs, which were covered in rivulets of blood all the way down to her ankles. Father Mosley held Callie’s hand, looking like he might vomit at any moment.

Callie was writhing in pain, almost falling from the stool. Her face was pale and sweat rolled down her cheeks.

I felt the buzzing again and knew they were performing magic. My anger rose, a blazing white-hot thing that made my blood sing in my ears. “Get away from her,” I growled loudly, “or they’ll find pieces of you spread across the nearest five counties.”

Janice Korman turned to me, her face white as a sheet, and dropped the bloody towel she’d been pressing against Callie’s leg.

Jodie Rexford started to speak, but Gene Rexford appeared in the doorway, putting his hand on Jodie’s shoulder. Her mouth opened and closed, but Gene squeezed and shook his head.

“Sam,” Jameson said, choking out the words, staring up at me from the concrete floor. “They’re … trying … to help.”

“Sam,” Callie said, her voice full of pain. “It’s okay.” She made eye contact with me and nodded her head.

I tried to relax, but the sudden surge of adrenaline made the muscles in my arms twitch. “How long was I out?”

“Just over an hour,” Jameson said. He stood and rubbed at his throat. “We’ve had a … chat and agreed to work together.”

The woman crying over Officer Gary’s body was making snuffling noises. My eyes drifted to her and I said, “We have, have we?” I paused and licked my lips. “These people were holding a vampire. A
vampire
.” When I said
vampire
, the men and women standing near the wall winced and their eyes darted to Jodie and Gene Rexford.

Jodie brushed her husband’s hand from her shoulder and stepped forward. Randy glared at her as she passed, but shook his head and shuffled out of her way.

“It isn’t what it looks like,” Jodie said.

I grunted. “It looks like you played with fire and got burned.” I pointed to Gary’s body. “
That’s
what happens when you mess with vampires. You’re a witch. You should know.”

A hint of red appeared on Jodie’s cheeks. “It wasn’t supposed to be like this. We’re not bad people, Mr. Harlan.”

I couldn’t take my eyes off the dead man’s body. “Lady, you got a real funny way of seeing things.” Randy Korman took a step toward me, his face going hard, but I was through playing games. “What in the hell were you going to do with a vampire? What plan could you possibly have had for that …
thing
… that doesn’t make you bad people?”

“We
had
to arm ourselves,” Jodie said. “We had to do
something
.”

“And you thought a vampire would help? Jesus, lady, that’s the opposite of a good idea. They’re inhuman killing machines—”

The woman leaning over Gary’s body stood up. Her face was a mess of running mascara, and she shouted in a nasal voice, “Show some respect!”

One of the women rushed to her and cradled the grieving woman in her arms. “Molly, please. He doesn’t understand…”

I felt a momentary stab of guilt. Officer Gary was dead, and the crying woman was clearly his wife or girlfriend. I was betting on wife. I quickly counted up the people in the room. There were nine locals, counting the dead police officer.

Most of Jodie’s coven.

The crying woman glared at me, wiping at the black streaks under her eyes, then turned back to the dead body. I didn’t blame her. The loss of her husband must have come as a shock.

I was beginning to suspect that Jodie Rexford had undersold the vampire’s danger. “You attacked us,” I said to Jodie Rexford. “You held Callie hostage. You blackmailed me into doing your bidding, and now you act surprised when the most dangerous creature in the world breaks free and kills one of your own? You got off
lucky
.”

Jodie shrank back from the tone of my voice. “It’s not like that…”

“Sam,” Callie said softly. “Can I speak with you?” She turned to Janice Korman. “Alone, please?”

Janice bit her lip. “Let’s leave them alone.”

Jodie looked like she wanted to argue, but she shook her head and said, “Everyone out. Clear the room.”

The men and women grumbled as they left. Randy looked like he wanted to take a swing at me, but Jodie urged him out the door. Jameson led Mosley to the door and gave me an appraising glance before leaving and shutting the door behind him.

Callie and I were left alone in the room with Bobby Gary’s dead body. The smell of blood was thick in the air, but it was overwhelmed by the bitter stench of urine. Underneath that was the odor of bowel and feces, the terrible odor of death that I had come to know so well.

I stood on rubbery legs and made my way to Callie. “How badly are you hurt?”

She dabbed at the wounds on her legs with a wadded-up ball of gauze. “It cut through the muscles. I don’t know what the coven did, but it helped.” She sucked air through her teeth. “It hurts, but they kept me from bleeding to death. I think I’ll have the use of my legs.”

I looked down at her thighs. The vampire had sliced through her skin and muscles like butter. The skin was shades of purple and yellow, and the edges of the cuts were held together with butterfly tape. Black clots had already formed around the edges of the wounds and they were starting to pucker and turn waxy.

“You realize,” I said, “that the only reason you’re hurt is because of them? They ran us off the road, Callie.
They risked our lives
.”

She nodded. “They told me.”

“Did they tell you they wanted me to kill Meriwether?”

“They’re terrified, Sam. Can’t you see it?”

“It’s not our problem,” I said. “I killed the vampire. Our job is done.”

She shook her head. “I know you see it. You must.”

“How is any of it our problem?
They
caused this,” I said, pointing to the blood covering the milky-white skin of her legs.

“I know,” Callie said. “But we’re here. We’re in the middle of it.” She groaned softly as she repositioned her legs, wiping at the blood seeping from the clotting wounds. “We have to do something. We
have
to help them.”

“Help them how?” I asked. “What they need to do is sit down with Meriwether and work things out before they get themselves killed.”

“You
can
help them,” Callie urged. “You can make them listen to reason.”

I laughed bitterly. “They don’t
want
to listen to reason. We said we couldn’t take on every cause. We agreed we would fight vampires.”

“Can you really turn your back on them?” she asked, raising an eyebrow. “Can you walk away, knowing they might destroy themselves?”

I turned away and found myself looking at Gary’s body. His sightless eyes stared at the rafters above, eyes that were now glassy and looked almost artificial.

I hadn’t cared for Gary in life and I sure as hell didn’t care for him in death, but I was experiencing several emotions, not the least of which was anger. Callie’s words kept eating at me, though, until I finally said, “Damn it.
Damn it!
You
know
I can’t.”