The Vampire Hunters (Book 2): Vampyrnomicon (41 page)

Toni raised the other dagger in front of Alison’s face, twisting it back and forth so the light reflected off of the blade. “Joke all you want, huntress. It’s payback time.”

“Then make it quick.”

The demented laugh again. Toni placed the tip of the dagger against Alison’s cheek and ran it up and under her right eye, just lightly enough so as not to break skin.

“I’m not going to kill you. I’m going to carve you up until you’re as hideous as me.”

Toni stood, grabbed Alison by the hair, and yanked her head back.

Stuck on his
back with Walker’s foot pressed against his chest, Drake could not move. After the physical pounding he had endured the past few minutes, he did not have the energy to roll to the side and push away the master. However, with the halberd’s spike dangling over his face, he needed to think of something or his day would get really bad really quick. He reached into his leather jacket pocket.

“See you in Hell, hunter.”

“Don’t wait for me.”

Drake pulled out the stun gun, depressed the trigger, and shoved it into Walker’s crotch. Even the undead can feel 1000 kilovolts coursing through their testicles. Walker’s body convulsed and his eyes rolled into his head. Drake felt the pressure on his chest lessen. Walker released his grip on the halberd. Drake rolled to the side just as the spike fell to the floor, burying itself into the wood. Continuing his roll, Drake knocked Walker’s leg out from under him, throwing the master to the floor. Once he felt reasonably certain of being out of imminent danger, Drake struggled to his feet.

Walker flopped around, holding his crotch and emitting an agonized groan through clenched fangs. Good. Now to finish him off. Drake removed the remaining Glock still loaded with a full clip and stumbled over to the master.

He heard Alison cry out.

Turning, he saw Alison kneeling by the rack, her hand stuck to the wooden frame by a dagger. The deformed master hovered around her, flashing a dagger in front of Alison’s face and running the tip along her skin. Then she stood and yanked Alison’s head back.

Drake raised the Glock and fired off six rounds at Toni. The first two missed and the third barely grazed her arm. The fourth struck Toni square in the forehead. The hollow point collapsed on impact with her skull, the flattened metal chunk gouging its way through her brain. Tiny streams of holy water trailed behind it, searing every exposed surface it touched. Exiting through the rear of Toni’s skull, the round punched a fist-sized hole through the bone and dragged shredded tissue and brain matter with it. Toni collapsed to the floor, thrashing around, clutching her ravaged head, and wailing.

Satisfied the female master posed no threat to Alison, Drake swung the Glock back to the master he had been fighting, only to find he had moved.

As the effects
of the stun gun began to wear off and Walker could again concentrate on the battle, the magnitude of their situation suddenly struck him. Three masters and four vampires easily should have been able to take down four humans, but that had not happened. Their losses were extraordinarily heavy. Three dead, with one vampire and two masters wounded to the point of not being able to fight effectively. Which left only himself. In his condition, he did not feel confident he could win against the three humans still left standing. It infuriated him that in all his centuries as a master, he had never lost in combat before today. To humans, no less. But to die needlessly was also a disgrace. The coven would encounter the hunters again, and next time the humans would not be so lucky.

Walker staggered over to Toni to get her to safety.

Drake scanned the
area and saw Walker making his way across the exhibit hall. He only had three rounds left in the magazine, which should be enough to stop him. He centered his sights on the master when a growl to his right got his attention. Drake glanced over to his right to see the master with the sliced open neck and the throatless, one-armed vampire flanking him. Drake swung his Glock in their direction. The two stopped but refused to back down. Sizing up the situation, Alison reached out for a broken piece of display case leg on the floor beside her, stretching because of her immobilized hand. The dagger strained against her skin, but she grabbed the makeshift weapon and brandish it like a stake. Rodriguez stumbled over to Drake and pulled the halberd out of the floor. He stood beside the hunter, weak and unsteady, but ready for the final fight.

“Let me gather my wounded and leave,” bellowed Walker.

“This isn’t over.”

“Yes it is. For now.” Walker shuffled over to Toni, who still rolled around on the floor, clutching her head and moaning. “None of us are in any condition to continue.”

As much as Drake hated to admit it, the master was right. He, Alison, and Rodriguez could barely stand let alone fight. Jim lay on the other side of the hall, unconscious, or worse, lying in a growing pool of blood. While Alison might advise that discretion is the better part of valor, the burning in his gut told him that he who fought and ran away would live to fight another day. He hated running. He enjoyed living more.

Drake lowered the Glock and held it by his side.

Walker bent over and attempted to pick up Toni. In his weakened condition and with her thrashing around, he could not lift her. Despite his own wounds, Treja limped over and assisted. Each master took one of Toni’s arms, placed it over their shoulders, and dragged her across the exhibit hall to the exit. The snuffy followed, one hand on its amputated arm, warily watching the hunters. At the exit, Walker paused and turned back to the hunters. He offered Drake a single, distinct nod. Part thanks, part respect. The masters disappeared into the outer hall, with the armless snuffy bringing up the rear.

Drake waited until they were gone then said to Rodriguez, “Help Alison. I’ll check on Jim.”

As he approached Jim, Drake grew increasingly nervous. The kid lay face down, immobile, his back and the surrounding floor soaked with blood. When he knelt beside Jim, he saw that the kid had three gashes, each more than twelve inches long, running horizontally across his back. The gashes on the left were so deep that portions of his shoulder blade were visible. Fearing the worse, Drake clasped his wrist and felt for a pulse. He found it, weak but steady. Drake felt tears well up in his eyes. Jim would live, but would hurt like hell in the morning.

Alison knelt beside Drake, wrapping a cloth around her wounded left hand. She tucked the loose end under the material by her thumb, then leaned forward and placed two fingers on Jim’s neck.

“Is he…?” Alison couldn’t finish the question, fearing the answer.

“He’s alive.”

“Thank God.”

“We’ll have to get him some medical attention fast.”

“And you.” Alison brushed a lock of sweaty hair off his forehead, then began to pat down the loose strands.

“I’m fine. Just a couple of hundred bruises.” Drake looked over his shoulder at Rodriguez. “How’d you do? Any injuries?”

“Nothing a few bottles of wine and a week’s sleep won’t cure.” He crouched down to join the others. “I hate to break up this love fest, but we still have two problems.”

Alison pulled back her hand self-consciously. “What?”

“How are we going to get an EMT crew in here if the vampires are still running around the building?”

“Damn.” Drake chastised himself for not thinking about that.

“And does anyone know what happened to Jessica and Reese?”

Akers made his
way to the main floor via a service stairwell. He found Chiang Shih at the top of the marble stairs leading down to the rear entrance. She stared out into the street, oblivious to his presence. A look of defeat etched across her face. When Akers joined her, he understood why. The lower lobby was a kaleidoscope of blue and red lights coming from half a dozen D.C. Police cars blocking Independence Avenue. He discerned at least a dozen cops with weapons of various calibers partially hidden behind their vehicles, and reasoned a further score of weapons were aimed at them that he could not see.

Even worse from the vampire’s perspective, an azure sky with streaks of red tinted the eastern horizon.

“We failed,” Chiang Shih said solemnly. “The hunters escaped with the Bible.”

“No they didn’t.”

Chiang Shih whipped her head toward Akers, the brunette strands whirling around her neck. “What do you mean?”

“I trapped the professor and the reporter in the stairwell leading to the roof. They have the Bible with them.”

Akers watched Chiang Shih’s defeatism turn into anticipation. She started down the stairwell, covering only a few steps before jumping over the railing into the private access corridor. Within seconds, she disappeared through the door leading to the guard room.

Glancing back out the doors, Akers decided to disappear deep into the museum and sneak out later when things quieted down.

Having parked outside
the police cordon, Roach made his way through the mass of vehicles until he reached Preston. His aide stood by a squad car behind and to the left of a white van parked in front of the museum. As he approached, he saw a score of cops all with weapons at the ready and aimed at the building, using the vehicles as cover. Two cops, each with a 12-guage shotgun, hunched down beside the pedestals at the bottom of the stairs that supported the brass lampposts, their weapons trained on the entrance. Only when he stepped up beside Preston did he see the shattered glass of the front door, the crumbled corpse of the security guard in the lobby, and two bodies on the sidewalk.

“Jesus,” Roach said under his breath.

“Tell me about it.” Preston motioned to the two bodies out front. “We found them like that when we arrived.”

“What happened?”

“Something mangled them.”

“What do you mean ‘mangled’?”

“Just what I said.” Preston pointed to the closest body. “Tran had his throat torn out. And Johnson was disemboweled. There’s also a body inside the museum that’s banged up pretty bad. It looks like it might be the night guard.”

“Hasn’t anyone checked it out?”

“No.”

“Why not?”

“Look at the top of the stairs.” Preston had an insolent edge to his voice that pissed off Roach.

As Roach leaned forward and peered through the glass doors of the Freer, for the first time he noticed the figure lurking inside the museum. From this distance and in the dim light, it looked female.

“Any idea who she is?”

Preston shook his head. “I doubt she’s friendly.”

“Let’s find out.” Roach looked around at the squad cars. “How many units do we have in position?”

“Six out back here and five in front. Just over thirty men in total, including tactical.”

“Tell them to get ready. All units will move in five minutes on my com—”

“Sir.” A young female officer interrupted Roach. She held out a cellular telephone. “The mayor’s on the line and wants to speak with you.”

Roach took the phone and listened, letting the mayor do all the talking. Roach did not feel like arguing, and he knew the mayor would not listen anyways. After a minute, the mayor ended the conversation. Roach closed the phone and threw it against the side of a nearby squad car.

“What’s the bad news?” asked Preston.

“The mayor has ordered us not to enter the museum.”

“Why not?”

“Because there’s already someone inside checking the place out.”

Preston shook his head. “Matthews.”

“That’s my bet.”

“So what do we do now?”

“We wait.”

The runaway vampire
animatedly paced back and forth in front of the stairwell door. Every few seconds, it stared at the metal surface as if it could see through to the other side. Finally, it grabbed the knob and pulled the door open.

The hooker vampire grabbed its arm. “What are you doing?”

“The humans are going to get away.”

“We were told to wait here for the Mistress.”

“You wait.” The teenager yanked its arm out of the hooker’s grasp. “I’m going to get that Bible.”

Uncertain what to do, the hooker abandoned her post and went off in the opposite direction to find the Mistress.

On the first
floor landing, Reese crept up to the door and looked through the window. A child stood at the end of the corridor, staring around the corner and out of the window. She seemed harmless enough, but Reese did not trust the situation enough to open the door.

Jessica sidled up beside him and whispered into his ear. “What do you see?”

“A possible vampire.”

Jessica stood on her toes and stared through the glass. “That little girl?”

“Yeah.”

“You gotta be kidding?”

“Do you want to open the door and take the chance?”

Jessica backed down.

They heard the basement door to the stairwell open. Reese pushed Jessica toward the stairs leading to the roof. As they started up, he caught a glimpse of the runaway vampire three landings below, climbing the stairs two at a time.

“Take this.” Reese shoved the Bible into Jessica’s hands.

“What are you going to do?”

Reese did not answer. Instead, as they ran up the stairs, he reached into the bag and removed one of the canisters filled with holy water-laced tear gas. Looking down the stairwell, he saw the runaway already had passed the first floor and rapidly closed the distance. When Reese reached the landing at the next level, he crouched, placed the canister on the floor, and pulled the pin. White smoke belched from the nozzle. Reese ran up to the next landing and spun around. Tear gas covered the stairwell and drifted upwards.

As he watched the canister dispense its contents, the runaway stopped on the landing and glared at Reese, oblivious to the tear gas that billowed around it. It took a deep breath and hissed at the human. Almost immediately, its defiance became anguish. The vampire whimpered as the tear gas enveloped it, burning the skin and searing the lungs where it had been inhaled. It dropped to its knees and broke into a fit of violent coughing, with each hack spitting out chunks of lung. Clawing at its chest, the snuffy tore through it clothes and gouged at flesh and muscle. The vampire stiffened and vomited blood. Once. Twice. Three times. On the third heave, a stream of ash accompanied the bloody puke as the snuffy disintegrated from the inside out.