What Happens in the Darkness (20 page)

While she punched the second one she kicked the third, his feet leaving the ground. He flew into the air and landed hard on a series of metal spikes lining the nearby fence.

Too easy.

Everywhere the vampires looked, the humans were still coming.

“God
dammit
!” Dagan cried, not wanting to kill them but having no choice. He didn’t start this attack, they had, but the vampires had to protect themselves at any cost. Considering the humans’ rate of attack, there would be no time to change them into vampires.

Dagan heard familiar voices shrieking for help. Several of his followers were being held down by a small crowd of rednecks.

Dagan rushed in their direction but was intercepted by his own band of attackers.

One jumped in Dagan’s way, aiming his Super Soaker at Dagan’s face, but Dagan punched the water gun away. The plastic of the gun exploded under the force of his blow, drenching his forearm in holy water. His flesh began to sizzle and crackle as if he was a human grease fire, and several other attackers trained their guns on him and opened fire, blocking his passage to help the screaming vampires.

Dagan had to jump back to avoid the holy water, and he was grabbed from behind by several humans. He jerked himself out of their grasp, and they fled.

All they wanted to do was keep him from helping his vampire friends.

In the distance, the rednecks had formed a circle around the attacking humans, each one wielding a Super Soaker, keeping Dagan and the others from helping.

Inside the circle the vampires screamed in pain.

One had been forced to the ground by holy water, his arms and legs burned off at the elbows and knees, smoke pouring off his body. The woman attacking him was now dripping holy water onto his face, slowly burning away his features. She started with one eye, drip-drip-dripping until the eyeball exploded, then the other, moving next to burn away his nose, saving his mouth for last.

“Please!” the vampire cried, “
kill meeeee!
Have mercy!”

The woman laughed as she dripped the water down his throat. He gurgled as he tried to speak, coughing back the holy water as it sprayed back and ate away at the rest of his face.

They left him there to sizzle away until he was no longer undead, until he was not coming back, and then they moved on to the next vampire.

Rebecca and a handful of her group managed to break through the sociopathic humans and rescue the vampires, but by that time nearly a dozen had been murdered by the humans.

The attacks with the water guns had been effective but short-lived. The vampires were just too damned fast. By the time the attack was over, several hundred humans lay dead in the streets. Every person who had opposed them was dead.

Dagan grabbed Rebecca. “We don’t have much time!”

She stood in the center of the carnage, a look of shock contorting her beautiful face. “We only wanted to help them,” she cried. “Look at this! What if it’s the same everywhere, Dagan? What if we have to keep doing this?”

“Come on, we have to hide. The sun’ll be up any minute.”

“I know.” She looked around. The remaining vampires had gathered around, desperate for guidance.

The Merchant Savings Bank across the street would have a vault, and Dagan hoped it would be large enough for the thirty of them. 

*** 

Patrick returned to the storeroom and found his new family waiting patiently for him.

He smiled, seeing they had followed his orders. There was hope after all.

He led them into the countryside and they hunted, descending upon a platoon of enemy soldiers who had made base near a lake.

This was the vampires’ first kill, and it was on their own kind—enemy attacking their own—but Patrick discovered he needn’t have been worried.

Their loyalties were with him.

The new vampires hungrily attacked the Global Dominion soldiers, tearing out chunks of flesh from their necks and heads, sucking the salty blood from their gushing wounds. Terrified soldiers screamed as their comrades—vampires still wearing their GD uniforms—savagely attacked and destroyed them. 

*** 

Later that day, after the sun had once again settled on the horizon, Dagan and Rebecca cautiously returned to the scene of the carnage.

“No one’s been here,” he said. “I thought there would be others.”

Rebecca nodded, examining the charred, skeletal remains of the deceased vampires. The sun had incinerated their bodies, until all that remained was chalky bone residue in the outline of their former bodies. A soft wind scattered the remains flake by flake.

“What do you want to do?” she asked him. “Go back? Or forward?”

Their vampires formed around them, standing or sitting, waiting patiently in small circles.

“Let’s go on,” Dagan said. “We have an assignment.”

Rebecca pulled her hair back over her shoulder. “Agreed.”

They traveled west again, reaching California in a handful of hours.

The first thing they did was find shelter. The sun wouldn’t rise for several hours, but Dagan and Rebecca wanted to be cautious this time and not have a repeat of the previous night.

In the town of Laramie, they came upon a colonial house, now deserted. The finished basement was large and windowless, and they decided to call it home base for a while.

Dagan called his followers, and they gathered around him. “We still have several hours of moonlight left. We’re splitting into two groups. Rebecca or I will lead you either north or south. Remember your mission: to destroy the enemy.” He hated stating the obvious, but he wanted to make sure they knew their responsibility.

“Questions?”

No. They had been thoroughly trained.

“Remember,” Rebecca added. “No prisoners. No killing Americans if we can avoid it. Kill only Global Dominion soldiers.”

“And no sires,” Dagan said. 

*** 

Dagan led his followers north, along the coast. Within minutes they came across an enemy base and a prison camp. They infiltrated the camp, easily overtaking the soldiers and rescuing the prisoners.

Attitudes were different on the west coast. Rescued prisoners were grateful.

A woman ran up to Dagan and threw her arms around him but stopped short. Instead, she dropped her arms and cocked her head. “I’m sorry,” she whispered. Covering her mouth with her palm. “I didn’t mean to—I mean, I—”

“It’s okay,” he said, touching her shoulder.

She flinched, and that seemed to embarrass her. “I’m afraid,” she said, tears rolling down her face. “I know you saved us—me—but I’m still afraid. Please forgive me.”

“I won’t hurt you,” he said gently, but she backed slowly away, smiling sadly at him, and she disappeared into the crowd of rescued humans.

Dagan gathered his vampires, and they moved on to the next area. 

*** 

Rebecca was having a similar experience. Destroying the enemy soldiers had been easy—they still had the element of surprise because no one ever saw them coming, even if they were much better prepared these days—but the freed prisoners still seemed more afraid of the vampires than of the Global Dominion soldiers. Old habits died hard, after all. And Bram Stoker sure had given vampires a black eye.

She freed a group of people who were reluctant to leave the confines of the cage.

“I won’t hurt you!” she snapped, perhaps more angrily than she’d intended.

They poked their heads out until they finally began their exodus.

One prisoner stopped on his way to freedom and paused to take a long look at her. “You have the face of an angel,” he said.

“Not an angel. Angels are pure. They’re beautiful.”

“Then you
are
an angel.”

She laughed. “There’s no need to flatter me. We don’t react the way you do. It’s not necessary to try to impress me.”

“I’m not. I mean, I wasn’t.” The flustered man who had been trying to express his gratitude tucked his head between his shoulders and disappeared amongst the others.

Rebecca shook her head, smiling. Had she ever been so human? She couldn’t remember. To be so self-conscious, so burdened with caring what others thought? Even when she’d been human some hundred-fifty years ago, she’d had a fascination with the supernatural. Ghost stories fascinated her; lurid tales of demons and banshees excited her. To spend an eternity as a creature of the night was never something she feared.

Martin had approached her, perhaps on some level sensing this, and had pulled her into an embrace. She had felt fear for the briefest moment. And she had died a virgin but did not regret that. The companionship she felt with her vampire family had always been enough. Then. But it had never been physical, and until she had recently tasted her freedom, she didn’t give another thought to what she might have been missing. Even the food they had been given—the jailhouse prisoners and the skid row vagrants—had been nothing more than sustenance. She never desired more from them than their blood.

But now she wondered. Her thoughts weren’t new, but they were resurfacing. Forgotten nuggets of passion and curiosity. Would she know how? Would it feel the way it was meant to, the way it would have felt had she still been human? The desire to feel a man inside her overpowered her, and it had to be a man, a human man. She knew she could satisfy herself, but what would the point be? She needed a warm, throbbing man inside her. A vampire wouldn’t share the passion she craved, wouldn’t fill her body with the hot, sensuous liquids a human could.

Her vampires waited for her to proceed.

“Go back to the camp,” she instructed. “Tell Dagan I’ll be along shortly.”

They began to protest but she cut them off and sent them on their way.

She gazed out at the ocean, the warm, salty air caressing her skin like gentle wet kisses. Movement to the side caught her eye, and she went to investigate.

A soldier lay wounded in the sand, blood seeping into his jacket from the wound in his chest. He stared at her with terrified, glassy eyes and tried to push himself away.

She stepped over him and squatted, hovering over his stomach. Leaning over, she grabbed his lapels and pulled him up.

He grimaced and tried to push her away, but he was no match for her formidable strength.

“Please,” he whispered, “I don’t want to die.”

The enemy. Would he be a willing lover? Would he be as good a lover as a non-enemy? He was wounded—would that matter?

She ground her crotch into his and rubbed against him, feeling him harden through his uniform. Apparently, he wasn’t too badly wounded.

“What are you doing?”

“I want you to have sex with me,” she whispered, nuzzling his ear.

“What?” he gasped, trying to pull away.

“Have sex with me.”

“What are you doing?” He struggled, his hands slipping to his sides, trying to wedge them between their bodies.

She knocked him back down to the ground and straddled him, pinning his arms over his head. She licked the drying blood off his jacket and unzipped his pants with her free hand.

His semi-hard penis reacted to her touch and grew rigid, despite his struggles. “Get the hell off me,” he yelled, thrusting his pelvis, kicking his legs. The pants around his thighs restricted his movements. She used her feet to pin down his ankles, hold him in place.

She mounted him, driving his cock inside her, and she rode him, moving faster, grinding against him. He still wasn’t cooperating, but it didn’t matter. She raped him but paused long enough to punch him in his wounded chest.

He screamed and tried to twist away onto his side, tears of pain and embarrassment leaking from his eyes.

“Easy, boy,” she cooed, not meaning to be so coy, knowing he was in pain, and she felt a bit of empathy. After all, he wasn’t
her
enemy. It had just been his dumb luck that the Americans had the vampires on their side.

It suddenly struck Rebecca as odd that the vampires were allies to the very people who had imprisoned them…

Didn’t matter. She was enjoying the hell out of this fuck. She wondered if this was the best there was, or if it got even better.

She moaned, her head dipping low, her eyes closed, her hips increasing speed.

The soldier groaned. She opened her eyes to watch him, and he threw his head back. He came inside her, and she was suddenly coming too, a powerful orgasm ripping through her body … a feeling so wonderful and so strong she was unable to move for a second or two. She collapsed forward on top of him and felt his pulse against her face.

“Get off me,” he cried, and when she did, he scuttled back like a sand crab, pulling up his pants.

“Oh,” she moaned, smiling, still shuddering, “that was fucking incredible.”

She caught up and straddled him again. “Again. I want to do that again.”

“I can’t!”

“You have to.” She touched his dick, but it didn’t respond. She looked at it, lying limply against his thigh.

“It doesn’t work that way.”

She looked back into his face and leaned forward, licking the tip of his nose. “Then I have no more use for you.” Grabbing his head, she twisted, snapping his neck.

The hour was getting late. It was time to head back to the camp.

Chapter 16 

“Come with us,” Martin said. “You’ll be safer.”

Janelle shook her head.

“I won’t harm you.”

“I know,” she said quietly. Martin had saved her life, and she trusted him. But the thought of being surrounded by vampires made her queasy. She would rather take her chances on the streets.

“I can’t guarantee your safety if you aren’t with me. I can’t promise you won’t be—” But he looked away, and she thought she knew what he would have said.

He couldn’t protect her from the vampires.

“What can I do then? To protect myself?”

He looked at her incredulously and then barked out a laugh. “I can’t tell you that.”

“Why not?”

Flustered, he muttered a series of syllables but formed no words.