The Vampire Hunters (Book 2): Vampyrnomicon (39 page)

Alison nudged Drake and pointed to the disfigured woman. “That’s the master I fought at Wolf Trap.”

“So we can assume the rest are also masters.”

The deformed master saw the hunters at the same instant. She morphed into her vampiric form and snarled. It drew the attention of the others. The Asian-looking vampire stared at them, then noticed Reese holding the Bible. A sneer crossed her lips.

“I don’t care what you do with the humans,” she announced. “Just bring me that book.”

“What do we do now?” asked Alison.

Drake could only think of one response. “Run.”

He pushed Jessica down the corridor leading to the exhibit halls. The snuffies let out a collective, inhuman cry and gave chase, leaving Chiang Shih in the lobby.

Drake knew they could not outrun them, but he never intended to. Leading the group to the opposite end of the gallery, he headed for the Spanish Inquisition exhibit. As they entered the outer exhibit room, he stopped and turned to face the horde. They were ten yards away and closing fast. Drake withdrew one of his Glocks, aimed it down the corridor, and emptied the magazine in their direction. The barrage had the desired effect. Knowing what damage the holy water rounds could inflict, the masters dropped to the floor or jumped to one side. The snuffies, not knowing any better, bore the brunt of the attack. The hooker took two rounds in the chest, the bald vampire caught one in the abdomen, and the teenage runaway had its arm grazed. Not enough to kill them, but it stopped them and the others in their charge and bought his team a few precious seconds. Drake rushed ahead and ducked into the exhibit hall containing the torture devices and the glass display cases filled with medieval weaponry.

Alison and Rodriguez already had begun to close the ornately-carved heavy wooden doors. Jim stood by holding the end of a hose he had unwound from the firefighting station. When the doors slammed shut, Jim passed the nozzles behind the twin handles, threading it through them before tying it off in a knot. No sooner had he secured the knot when the doors pushed inward, straining against the hose.

“That’ll hold ’em for a few seconds,” said Jim.

“That’s all we need.” Drake took the bag of holy water-laced tear gas canisters from Jim and handed it to Reese. “There’s an emergency exit in the corner. You and Jessica use it and get the Bible to safety.”

Jessica stepped forward. “I’m staying wi—”

Another loud bang rattled the twin doors, this time accompanied by the cracking of wood. The doors held, but fractures formed around the handles.

“Go!” ordered Drake. “We’ll hold them off as long as we can.”

Before Jessica could argue, Reese grabbed her arm and pulled her toward the emergency exit. She hesitated, but when Drake turned his back on her she reluctantly followed the professor. The two pushed through the metal door into a narrow, poorly-lit stairwell leading down.

Jim leaned close to Alison. “Hold them off as long as we can? With what?”

The sound of breaking glass caught the hunters’ attention. They turned to see Drake reach trough the shattered glass top of a display case and lift out a halberd. He grasped the weapon in each hand, ready for battle.

“Lock and load, gang. We’re going to go medieval on their asses. Literally.”

Akers searched around
the security control panel in the guard room until he found the switch for the alarm. He flipped it to the OFF position. The klaxon went silent, leaving in its place an eerie stillness.

Checking the monitors to see where the others had gone, he saw them gathered outside the doors to the Spanish Inquisition exhibit hall. The monitor for inside the hall showed the hunters gathering in a semi-circle around the doors. No fucking way did he want to get involved in that fight. He planned on watching the massacre from here, but then noticed on a third monitor the blonde reporter and the professor running down an emergency exit stairwell. And they carried the Bible with them. He checked the monitor’s location against the museum’s floor plan. The emergency exit led to the basement. He considered warning Chiang Shih, but by then the two would have gotten away. Not if he could head them off, though.

Racing out of the guard room, Akers ran past the elevators and headed for the main stairwell leading to the basement.

The six vampires
pressed against the twin doors to the exhibit hall, trying to force them open. Chiang Shih walked up, furious that they had not caught the hunters yet. She shoved them aside and stepped up to the doors, pausing for a second before kicking at the handles with her boot. The force ripped the handles out of their mountings. As the doors flew open, the undead swarmed into the exhibit hall.

Directly into a rain of death.

The vampire with no throat and a blood-soaked denim jacket rushed in first. It did not see Drake swing the halberd until the blade sliced through its neck, decapitating it. The punkish-looking vampire followed close behind, only to catch a bolt from Jim’s crossbow in its heart. Neither hunter watched their death throes because the remaining snuffies and masters raced past their fallen comrades and swarmed over the humans.

Chiang Shih stood
by the door, surveying the exhibit hall as her minions attacked. She saw the hunters, but not the reporter and that meddlesome professor. Instinct told her that these two had the Bible. Grabbing the hooker and the runaway vampires by their arms, she prevented them from joining the fight.

“What’s wrong?” asked the hooker.

“The reporter and the professor aren’t here. Find them. Bring me their heads and the Bible.”

“Yes, Mistress.”

The two scurried around the outskirts of the battle and headed for the emergency exit. Chiang Shih turned and headed back to the lobby.

Drake brought the
halberd around and swung it at another vampire with no throat, only this time with less accurate aim. Having seen the fate that befell its companion, the throatless snuffy tried to turn out of the way, but was not fast enough. The halberd blade sliced through its midsection a foot below the neck, amputating the snuffy’s right arm and gashing open its chest and ribcage. Howling in pain, it retreated back to the doors.

Before Drake could bring the halberd back for a third swing, Walker lunged forward. Drake steadied the halberd and thrust it forward, driving the spike head into Walkers chest. He missed the master’s heart, instead imbedding the spike into its stomach. Walker bellowed and transformed. Drake withdrew the spike and tried to jump back, but Walker grabbed the shaft and yanked the weapon out of Drake’s hands. Keeping his eyes fixed on the hunter, Walker turned the halberd around and brandished it for combat. His hideous features broke into a sardonic smile as he approached Drake. Backing away, Drake reached under his jacket and pulled out a stake. Walker approached slowly, taunting the hunter. Every few seconds he would move as if about to swing the halberd, then stop, laughing as he watched the hunter jump. After toying with Drake for several seconds, Walker swung the halberd in earnest. Drake ducked as the blade sliced through the air inches above his head. Before Walker could recover, Drake charged, aiming the stake at the master’s heart. The stake punctured Walker’s side, bouncing its way between two ribs, which deflected it away from the heart.

Roaring in anger and pain, Walker dug the stake out of his side and flung it at Drake. By now, the hunter had retreated several feet and pulled out a second stake, preparing for another attack. Walker refused to give him the chance. Holding the halberd like a lance, he rushed Drake. The hunter back stepped until he bumped into a display case. Raising the halberd above his head, Walker brought it down, hoping to cleave the hunter in two. Drake dropped and rolled to one side as the blade smashed the case, showering him in glass shards and fragments of wood. Drake got up when Walker swung the halberd at him again. Drake was too close, and the handle struck him on the side of the head. The force of the blow, however, stunned him. Drake fell to the floor on his stomach, disoriented.

Walker slipped one foot under Drake’s shoulder and flipped the hunter onto his back. “Not so tough now, are you?”

Stepping around to Drake’s side, Walker placed his foot on Drake’s chest to hold him down. He turned the halberd around so the spike faced down, and lifted it above Drake’s head.

“See you in Hell, hunter.”

A bald vampire
wearing a denim jacket ran into the exhibit hall and rushed Rodriguez. Rodriguez jabbed his lance, but it moved quicker than anticipated. It slapped the lance head aside and leapt at him, baring its fangs. Rodriguez raised the handle to block his face and slammed it between the vampire’s jaws like a bridle. The snuffy bit into the wood as it continued its attack, pushing Rodriguez backwards. Letting himself fall, Rodriguez lifted his left foot, placed the sole on the vampire’s abdomen, and, as he toppled over, kicked out. The vampire catapulted over him and crashed into a floor-mounted display case, shattering it. Shards of glass fell onto and around Rodriguez. Rodriguez rolled over and stood, but because he still clutched the lance he moved slowly. Once upright, he broke the handle over his knee, creating two weapons. He held the broken handle in his right hand as a jagged stake, and in the other he clutched the lance head. The vampire crouched by the remnants of the display case, chunks of broken glass imbedded in its back. Blood dripped onto the floor. It kept a wary eye on Rodriguez as it reached around and plucked the jagged pieces out of its skin, dropping each to the floor with a snarl. When the snuffy couldn’t reach the pieces in the center, it turned its back to Rodriguez and shook violently, like a wet dog. The remaining shards sailed through the air. Half a dozen threatened to hit Rodriguez, who covered his face with his arms.

The vampire used that moment to attack. It slammed into Rodriguez, throwing the hunter back several feet onto the floor, and knocking the wind out of his lungs and the makeshift weapons out of his hands. Stunned, Rodriguez felt around for the stake and the lance head. The vampire raced over, lifted Rodriguez off of the floor, and hurled him into the shattered display case. Rodriguez winced as the broken glass cut into his back. Before he could get up, it jumped onto his abdomen, hissed, and lunged for his throat. Rodriguez grabbed the vampire by the neck and tried to push it away, but the snuffy was too strong.

Slowly, inch by inch, the vampire pushed its fangs toward Rodriguez’ neck.

Treja dashed into
the exhibit hall and stopped short, nearly impaling himself on the point of the sword Alison held out in front of her. She thrust, aiming at his heart. He jumped back, sidestepped her, and vaulted over a nearby display case. The glass already had been broken and a sword removed. Treja reached in and grabbed one of the remaining swords, then kicked over the case. Alison moved back several feet. Treja leapt over it, landing in front of her. Alison thrust again, but Treja caught the blade with his sword and deflected the attack. Flipping his sword up and to the left, Treja cut a one-inch gash along Alison’s right cheek. She gasped.

Treja grinned. “Poor choice of weapons, girl. I’m a master swordsman.”

He stepped toward Alison. She jumped back out of the way. He sensed her cockiness draining away and laughed.

“I’m going to enjoy cutting you up.”

Alison attempted another thrust, but Treja deflected the attack. He sliced sideways, cutting across the body of her leather coat. She stepped back, and Treja followed.

“First, I’ll slice off your ears and nose.”

Treja slashed at her face. Alison ducked to the side. The blade barely missed her.

“Then your eyes.”

He slashed at her face again. Alison jumped back, losing her balance.

“Then your tits.”

Treja made two crossing slashes at Alison’s chest, the latter of which sliced open the breast of her jacket.

“And when I’m through toying with you, I’ll gut you like a pig.”

Treja lunged, the sword pointed at Alison’s stomach. This time, she deflected the blade and stepped into the thrust. The blades of the swords slid along each other until the hilts connected. The two adversaries stood face to face. Now Alison smiled.

“I’m a pretty good swordsman myself.”

“Not as good as me.”

“That’s true.” Alison placed her right foot on Treja’s upper leg and shoved, propelling them away from each other. As she did, Alison sliced the blade downward, from left to right, gashing Treja’s chest. He growled angrily. The growl became a cry of pain. And fear. Treja looked down at the wound. Pain was no stranger to him, but this wound burned. Wisps of smoke wafted from the gash. He lifted his head to see Alison smiling at him.

“My sword is covered with holy water.”

Treja backed up to avoid the weapon. Alison followed, launching a series of thrusts. Treja blocked each move, but did not counterattack, his gaze focused on the deadly blade. He kept retreating until he bumped into the stretching rack. Looking over his shoulder to see what blocked his escape, he momentarily averted his gaze from Alison. Alison sliced her sword horizontally, aiming for Treja’s neck. Treja moved back, but could only go so far because of the rack blocking his way. The blade sliced across his throat, creating a barely perceptible slit. For a moment nothing happened, and Alison thought she missed. Then white smoke drifted from the wound, followed by a flow of blood. The slit opened, revealing the extent of the damage. Alison had cut clean through to the larynx. Treja dropped his sword and brought up a hand to cover the gash. Sidestepping around the rack, he backed away toward the exit.

Alison followed, brandishing the sword in front of her.

“Now let’s see who gets gutted like a pig.”

Toni followed the
punkish-looking vampire into the exhibit hall, which was fortunate for her since it absorbed the bow from the crossbow. Toni paused, trying to determine from which direction the shot had come from. Then she saw the child reloading his weapon. Their eyes locked. He reached down, felt for a replacement bow, and removed one. When he looked down to load the bow, Toni morphed into her vampiric form and attacked. She brushed aside the disintegrating vampire, turning it into a swirling pile of ash. The child pulled back the slide and raised the crossbow. Since Toni was too close to take careful aim, he squeezed off a bow and hoped for the best. Toni plucked the bow in mid-flight. She pounced on him before he could react. Toni swiped her right hand at his head. He ducked, avoiding the blow. Still crouching, he turned to one side and darted away, but did not get very far. Toni swiped her left hand at him. Three talons caught him in the left shoulder and swept downward to the right, tearing three long gashes across his back. He fell forward and slammed head-first into a display case, slid down the glass, and crumbled face first to the floor. Toni strolled over to him. He did not move. Blood filled the gashes and overflowed onto his back, soaking his clothes. She towered above him, raising her right hand over her head, ready to plunge her talons into the back of his skull.