Eldren: The Book of the Dark (32 page)

Suddenly his arm was as straight as a rod of iron and his head was clear as he pulled the trigger, sending a silver tipped bolt directly towards Donald Allan’s heart.

~-o0O0o-~

Brian saw it all happen between one step and the next.

Margaret raised the sword above her head, and the look in her eyes was so cold, so fierce, that he felt a part of his heart break at the sight.

Donald Allan turned, just in time to see her approaching. His eyes went red, just one flash of burning fire, then immediately back to black.

Brian saw him register something else; a flicker in his eyes accompanied by a slight, almost imperceptible movement, just before a flash of silver impaled him over the heart.

The circle of flame Allan had created sputtered and crackled, its colors fading to a dull orange glow before finally collapsing in on itself, like a spent fire.

The vampire staggered, almost falling, but managed to pull himself upright just as Margaret brought the sword down, through his jacket, his shirt and the flesh of his shoulder, cleaving a wound six inches deep just below his neck.

And this time the vampire did go down, first to one knee, a hand outstretched towards Brian, then all the way to the floor where he lay, still and strangely flushed.

Margaret stood above the body and raised the sword once more, but before she could bring it down a high-pitched voice rang through the room. Brian could turn his head enough to see the boy, Tony, get to his feet. He read from a sheaf of papers, his brow furrowed in concentration. But there was no hesitation to be heard in his voice.

“Oh Jethriel Tschim assist me in the name of Amro, be my strength in the name of Yoriah.

Oh Beni-Elohim, be my brethren in the name of the Redeemer and by the power of Zebaoth.

Elohim do battle for me in the name of Rokar.”

Shoa staggered, his frame suddenly bent almost double as if under a great weight. It hissed, like a cornered snake, and the fangs slid in and out of the gums, almost faster than the eye could follow.

The boy moved past Brian, his eyes never leaving the paper in front of him, and Shoa gave way before him, scuttling backwards almost to the edge of the circle. But it wasn’t finished yet. Brian saw the muscles in the white flesh ripple and flow, saw the red eyes flare, so bright it was like being pierced by car headlights.

And Tony stopped dead in his tracks, his mouth hanging open, his eyes glazed.

Around them the gathered vampires roared and the foot stamping started again.

~-o0O0o-~

“Don’t hurt me,” Billy said.

Tony looked down at his friend cowering in front of him. Why was Billy afraid of him? Billy was never afraid of anything.

“Don’t be silly,” Tony said, and stretched out a hand to his friend.

~-o0O0o-~

Margaret looked down at the man at her feet. She held the sword above her head, ready to strike. She wanted to strike. No. Something in her head wanted her to strike. But surely the man at her feet was dead already.

As if to prove her wrong, the man’s eyes opened. She saw great pain there, and also great sadness. He held her in his gaze and it was like a veil falling from before her eyes. She let the sword drop to her side but he shook his head, and with an effort, raised his arm and pointed.

It was only then that she came fully back to reality.

“Don’t be silly,” she heard Tony say, and turned just in time to see him reach out a hand to the vampire.

~-o0O0o-~

Brian wasn’t going to make it. He saw the boy go blank and recognized the symptoms. It had happened to him, less than twenty-four hours but more than a lifetime away.

He forced his legs to move, and this time they obeyed him, but he was still yards away when the boy said something, too low for Brian to hear, and reached out a hand for the vampire to take.

“No.” Brian shouted, but was drowned out by a roar from behind him.

A body rushed past, and Brian only had an impression of a long coat and a hunched almost crippled stance as a wild-eyed man swept the boy aside and crashed headlong into Shoa.

~-o0O0o-~

“Leave my son alone!” Jim Kerr shouted, and with the last of his strength drove a crossbow bolt deep into the bloodsucker’s neck.

~-o0O0o-~

Shoa screamed, and the whole room shook, small pieces of the mosaic dislodging and skittering across the floor with a rattle like hail on an iron roof. The man in the coat had his legs wrapped tightly around the vampire’s waist and was stabbing at its neck in frenzy, thin saliva flying from his lips.

Shoa seemed to melt and fade, squirming out of the attacker’s reach, and the man in the coat screamed again, in frustration this time, then in pain as strong hands grabbed him tight by the shoulders. The vampire held the man out at arm’s length and then smiled, a slow grin that exposed the fangs.

Brian moved faster than he knew was possible, and grabbed the vampire by the shoulder, turning it around.

And now it was his turn to look into those eyes again.

Shoa did something with its hands, no more than a twist of an inch. There was a crack as bones shattered and the man in the coat fell in a heap to the ground. Then Brian got the full force of the smile.

Brian looked into the red eyes, and again he saw his father.

“It’s not really me,” his dad said.

“I know Dad,” Brian replied, and, making a fist, he hit the man harder than he had ever hit anyone in his life.

~-o0O0o-~

Shoa staggered, and Margaret saw Brian raise his hand for another blow.

But the vampire was fast. It sprung like a cat, its hands curved into talons that would have ripped Brian in two.

They didn’t reach him.

Margaret brought the sword up and round in an arc that sang as it was cut through the air. It struck the vampire just above the elbow and kept going, through skin, muscle and bone, carried on by momentum right through the swing to the floor where it struck a great gouge in the mosaic.

Shoa staggered and almost fell, but there was no blood and the fingers of the severed arm twitched where they lay on the floor.

The vampire turned toward her, and Brian hit it again, a blow to the side of the head that sent it flailing across the mosaic to fall heavily, the great white head resting beside that of the serpent.

~-o0O0o-~

“Malachim protect me in the name of Jod He Vau He.

Seraphim cleanse me in the name of Elvoih.”

Tony felt his voice echo around the room. He stood over the white vampire and stared down into the red eyes, eyes that had dimmed considerably at the words of the spell.

“You don’t frighten me,” he said, his voice little more than a whisper.

The red eyes flared, but the power in them had gone, dimmed to no more than glowing embers. The vampire began to crawl but its strength seemed to have gone. Tony put one foot on the creature’s chest, pinning it in position.

Margaret walked towards him and he saw her raising the sword. He put out a hand and stopped her, and she didn’t protest when he took the sword from her.

Although it was heavy he raised it one handed above his head and brought it down as he read the last line of the spell.

“Give me the strength to cast down this servant of thine enemy.”

His voice echoed, again and again, and instead of fading it grew in volume until it was being repeated by a chorus, a host, an army.

Point first, the sword took Shoa directly in the heart and drove down, through his body and deep into the tiles of the serpent’s neck.

The room span as the vampire screamed. Its feet drummed on the tiles and smoke began to flow from its mouth, mere wisps at first, then a fog as if a dry ice machine had suddenly kicked into action.

A sudden silence fell on the room, but Tony couldn’t take his eyes off the vampire as it fell in on itself, ribs and muscles collapsing, like a balloon deflating.

And still the mist came, crawling about his ankles like a nest of snakes. Through the mist the red eyes flared, a last burst of defiance.

Tony brought up his left foot and with one formless yell brought it down, hard, directly between those eyes.

The great head sank under his weight, breaking as if no more than papier-mâché. And Tony kicked down, again, and again, until there was nothing beneath his feet but a fine gray ash...a fine ash and a pair of yellowing fangs.

~-o0O0o-~

Margaret shook her head, hard. It was like coming out of a dream, a bad dream that had held her for too long.

Tony was standing in the middle of the mosaic, looking down at what remained of the vampire. Around the circle there was only bodies...Shoa’s disciples had not survived the demise of their master...their bodies lay strewn where they had fallen.

“Brian?” She said, looking around. A thick fog hung across the floor and at first she couldn’t see the teacher, but then she found him, kneeling over the figure of the man in the black leather jacket.

As she walked towards them Brian lifted the man in his arms as if he weighed no more than a child did. She saw that the man’s chest was still rising and falling, although his eyes were staring sightlessly past her and his skin was as pale and translucent as a piece of fine china.

She put out her hand towards Brian but he turned towards her and, just for a second, she saw something new in his eyes, a rage and fire that made her lower her hand and step back.

Then Brian, the old Brian, was back.

“Let’s just get out of here,” he said. “Explanations will have to wait.”

Margaret felt a pull on her arm and looked down. Tony was standing beside her.

“He’s still alive.” The boy said, and at first she didn’t know what he meant, then she saw the man in the long coat struggle to a sitting position on the opposite side of the mosaic.

~-o0O0o-~

Jim Kerr came up out of the darkness, amazed that there was anything beyond the limbo in which he had found himself.

There was no pain, only a dull coldness. He remembered the cold hands at his neck, …and the sound of his bones breaking was a noise he would never forget.

By all rights he should be dead...dead and long gone what with the loss of blood, exhaustion and broken bones. But still something drove him.

He managed to push himself to a sitting position and looked across the room.

The boy, the one from the cellar, was walking towards him.

And that’s when it happened.

It started with a sharp pain in his gums, a pain that forced him to clasp his hands over his mouth, only to draw them away again as his fingers met the sharp points of the twin fangs that emerged.

“No!” he screamed, and again, “No!”

The boy came closer, and Jim saw the blood course through him, the veins highlighted as if they had suddenly been transposed to the outside of the body.

“Stay back,” he said to the boy, but his limbs were betraying him, dragging him forward, closer to the red heat.

He reached into his pocket, forcing his hand to obey him, searching for the garlic packets he knew were there. But his fingers met something else, a cold metal that he recognized as his tin of lighter fuel.

The boy was closer now, a hand outstretched. Jim tried to back away but he was disgusted to find that he was salivating, his new fangs sliding bloodily in and out of torn gums, an ache in his stomach trying to drive all else from his mind.

He drew a crossbow bolt, the last, from his holster and, without giving himself pause to think he drove it into his chest. The cold metal scraped against his ribs but it seemed that he had missed his heart...there was no sudden gout of blood, but the pain was enough to focus what remained of his will.

He splashed the fluid from the can over his shirt at the waist, feeling the dampness as an extra layer of cold.

The boy was closer still.

No time left.

Jim reached for his lighter and got it into his hand without fumbling.

“Goodbye, son,” he said, and spun the wheel.

There was a sudden implosion of air and a flare of blue heat. He took a deep breath, welcoming the warmth inside him.

~-o0O0o-~

The body burned quickly, thick black smoke rising in a plume to the broken dome above.

Margaret had Tony by the shoulders, holding him back from the flames. Even when it was obvious that the man was dead the boy still struggled, still tried to reach him. And when the boy turned and buried his face in her chest she saw the hot tears that hung from the corners of his eyes.