The Chaos Order (Fanghunters Book Three) (34 page)

Nixon got a good grip on Maggie and threw her barrel up toward the advancing vamp. He had one shot. One shot. One bullet, one shot. He had to make it.

He got an eye closed, just as the Chaos Don’s puffed-up face came fully into view. Nixon aimed at his chest.
Come on, come on, comeoncomeoncomeon!

He licked his lips, the Don’s wild roar reverberating in his ears. An image of Charlie flashed in Nixon’s mind.
This one’s for you
,
buddy!

Nixon found the exact spot, just as the Don was virtually on him.

“Gotcha!” Nixon whispered, just before he pulled the trigger.

The report ricocheted off all the walls and back again.

The Don stopped in his tracks, the impact negating his momentum. The armor-piercing slug tore right through his chest and came out the other side; it slammed into the wall beyond, leaving a neat hole.

The Don staggered back, his hand flying up to where he’d been shot. Nixon watched him with eager eyes.
Did I get his heart? Did I get it? DID I GET IT?

If he didn’t, the vampire would recover and have his head off his shoulders before he could blink. He had no other defense against him.

He waited in anticipation, sprawled across the carpet, his mouth agape. The Chaos Don reached a claw on the air; he clenched and unclenched it. His frostbitten eyes glared at Nixon, full of spite. His other hand was over his heart, right where the slug penetrated him. He let out a growl as he teetered.

“Puto!”
he sneered, his eyes flashing with disbelief.

And then, to Nixon’s relief, his eyes rolled up into his head and his body collapsed onto the carpet. He briefly juddered, then became still.

After a second or two, Nixon fell onto his back. “Oh man!” he groaned. He rolled from side to side, moaning as if caught in the middle of an orgasm. A riptide of relief was flooding him. “Thank Christ!” he blurted.

He gave Maggie a big, sloppy kiss. Then, “That was for you, Charlie,” he said to the ceiling in between pants.

When the adrenaline rush subsided, he managed to climb back to his feet. The other cartel assholes in the building would be looking for their boss at any moment, no doubt watching proceedings through the CCTV.

He went over to his defeated foe and glared down at him. There was a perfectly round hole in his chest, right where his heart was. Nixon brought Maggie’s barrel up to his cheek again. He shivered under her touch. “Freaking A,” he said in a hot whisper.

“Better luck next time, buddy,” he then said down to the dead Chaos Don. Now, with this guy gone, the rest of his crew would fall like dominoes.

He raced over to the elevator and went back up to the control room on the seventy-fifth. He got on the loudspeaker system.

“This is a message to any surviving Dragon-stay-behinds,” he barked, his voice going out to every floor of the Tower. “I’m General James Nixon AKA Husky Flamingo, and I’m taking over this unit. The Chaos Don is dead, repeat, the Chaos Don is dead. I smoked him myself. Now, for the cartel assholes who still think they got a chance. Uh-uh, your vampire master is pig feed. Dead. Now, you can either leave or stay and be killed, your choice, I’d advise you to choose the former. That’s the first option by the way. Leave.”

He sniffed hard and rubbed his nose. He caught a glimpse on the CCTV screens of Chaos assholes already scramming out to the stairwells.

Nixon got back on the loudspeaker. “To my Dragon brothers. Let it be known that victory is ours. This is the start of a new dawn. Nothing will stand in our way. Now, let’s go clean house!”

PART SIX

CHAPTER THIRTY-EIGHT

T
roy’s eyes flicked open to darkness. For a second, he was disorientated, but then he nodded, knowing what was up.
Of course, they’ve bagged-up my head. Why break the habit?

His eyelids were heavy, his head groggy like he’d been heavy at the mescal the night before
and
ate the frickin’ worm. His body then rocked from side-to-side and up and down in a weird, unstable motion, and he knew he wasn’t in the trunk right now. A constant rasp of an engine filled the air. Every now and then, he was getting a spray of water on his arms.

Am I on a boat?
he asked himself in confusion. The last thing he remembered was staring at a chopper, then getting jabbed up with something that knocked him clean out.

The sound of the engine then petered out and they came to a stop. Within moments, rough hands were grabbing at him.

Troy resisted. “Hey! Get off me!”

They didn’t. Instead, they kept pulling him upward.

“Hey. I need to pee again! Okay? Now, let me go. You don’t want me to crap thunder again do you?”

After a brief pause, the bag was ripped from his head. Troy squinted his bleary eyes. He was surrounded by trees overhanging a giant river.
Huh?

He turned back to be faced with a couple of gorillas holding flashlights. They were standing on the deck of the small boat they were on. One of them pointed at the river. “Be quick!” he said before he began undoing Troy’s cuffs.

“Yeah, I’ll be quick,” Troy said, taking in more of his surroundings. The bushes and trees around him squirmed with wildlife. “Where are we anyhow?”

They didn’t answer him. His wrists were released and he made his way to the edge of the boat. He peeked overboard. A big, dark river stared back at him. He shivered. He turned back. The gorillas were watching him. “Hey, I can’t go if you’re watching!” Troy snapped.

The gorillas reluctantly turned their backs on him.

Troy faced the river once more. He sighed.
This is it. The final leg of my ascension to greatness.

Excitement brewed in his belly. Man, it was so close. The unification with Magdalena. She was waiting for him; poor chick had been waiting for centuries for her man to arrive.
Well, I’m on my way, baby!

He stuck his hand into the crotch of his chinos and pulled out Trixie’s smartphone. He gave it a brief stare, then dropped it in the river. It disappeared into the depths in seconds. “Sorry, Trixie,” he mumbled as he watched it go. “Destiny awaits.”

He then turned back to the gorillas. “Okay, boys, let’s go.”

They bagged and cuffed him again and led him onto land. He was shoved into the back of a vehicle where he was sandwiched between the stinky, sweaty gorillas and off they drove through the jungle till they reached their destination.

They pulled him out and dragged him through the jungle, weird birds cawing overhead, the ground soft and mushy, the air thick, humid like the inside of a greenhouse.

After a long walk, everything suddenly turned cold and dank, the ground becoming more solid beneath his sandals. Stone, definitely stone. His footfalls now echoed all around him. His eyes widened beneath his hood. They were inside!

Yeah, this must be Magdalena’s temple, has to be,
he told himself, overjoyed. It had been a long, tiring journey, but finally el Sanguinario was about to be united with the Unholy Mother in a dark wedlock. Together they’d rule the Chaos Order from the shadows. A bit like Anthony and Cleopatra. Troy grinned at the thought. Yeah, he could dig that. To be worshipped and praised till the ends of time while his legions of vampires and fangheads conquered the globe on their orders. He’d never joined a faction before, but maybe now was the right time. The right time for his complete transmutation into vampire. A couple of bites from the Unholy Mother (whose venom just had to be the bomb. Had to be!) and he’d be there; a powerful, god-like vamp. Nice.

Hey, maybe they got a throne waiting for me,
he thought to himself in delight.
How about a crown? That would be cool. He sighed in satisfaction, imagining himself perched on his throne, his gold crown resting on his head while the Unholy Mother bestowed upon him her ancient loving. He envisaged her as an exotic vampire queen, her thigh muscles well-honed for the task, oiled, ready, and willing for him (a bit like Trixie but without the bad attitude), scantily clad in nothing but a loincloth and tiny bra made of jungle vine. He pictured her eyes glittering like the rarest jewels. Yes, she’d make a fine wife for a king-god-badass like him. In his mind, he rubbed his hands in glee.
Bring it on, bitches!

They moved further into the temple, Troy puffing his chest out with pride. He was about to be anointed by her majesty, to be named her king; the greatest honor.

They came to a stop; he sucked in a huge breath, his heart skipping a beat. This was it. This was the moment. The low rumble of stone scraping against stone reverberated around him. He stared into the darkness, a sense of anticipation rising inside him. The rumbling then stopped, and everything went quiet. It remained that way for a while longer.

“Er... peasants?” Troy asked in a tentative voice. “Bitches? Where are you?”

He was answered by silence. He frowned. Then, without warning, the hood was whipped from his head. Before he had a chance to gather in his surroundings, he was pushed forcefully down the stone steps ahead of him. He tumbled down them, bumping and rolling like a beach ball. He groaned in agony with each thud until he crashed onto the stone floor below in an agonized heap. He managed to roll onto his back to catch a glimpse of the opening he’d just fallen through close shut, dumping him in darkness.

“Hey!” he shouted, but his voice was drowned out by a stony crunch.

He made it to his feet with an agitated growl. “You didn’t have to throw me down those steps!” he shouted out as he dusted himself down. “Is this any way for me to address my future wife?” He huffed. “Assholes.”

A loud hiss then made his back straighten.

His wide eyes scanned the darkness. “Is that you?” he asked. He held his hands out to the sides and grinned. “It’s me. Sanguinario. Your husband. The man you’ll conquer the world with.”

Another hiss rang out, this time closer.

“I know I’m not looking my best for you, sweetie,” he said with a chuckle, “but I promise to take a shower. I think the first thing we should do once we’re, you know, united, is to hire some new help, cause these guys just don’t cut the mustard. They didn’t even have a bottle of antiperspirant for me, for Chrissakes.” He sniffed his underarm and winced.
“Man, I really do need a bath,”
he whispered to himself.

Something then slithered by his feet, the hissing intensifying. Troy could sense movement all around him. He stared toward the ground even though he could see nothing. The hissing increased in volume and that sense of movement became more and more real.

Troy gulped. “Hey, go easy on me, baby. It’s my first time.”

Something clamped around his ankle and he screamed. He tried to kick it off, but it was too thick, too heavy. He gasped in horror. He tried to put more effort into it, but it had him gripped good.

Then it began coiling up his thigh.

It was a horribly tickly sensation, both pleasant and nauseating at the same time.

He made a mouse-like noise. Then another thing wrapped around his free leg. He shrieked. He tried to back away, but he was now rooted, held to the spot by the two things crawling up his legs.

“Darling, you’re moving too fast,” he said to the darkness. Loud hissing answered him alongside more intense slithering.

One of the things coiled around his upper thigh and squeezed.

Troy’s chest tightened. It was actually quite enjoyable.

Then more things began coiling around the original things and worked their way up his body. They crawled across his chest; thick, cold. He craned his head back, trying to get away from them, even though they had hold of his limbs and were squeezing. The hissing grew louder in his ears, until it buzzed against his eardrums.

“Baby,” he said in an unsure voice. “Don’t do anything you’ll regret later!”

A cold, forked tongue then scraped across his cheek. He yelped in horror.

Then everything went silent. The tongue licked him once more. Then, a couple more; one on his other cheek, another slapped against his forehead. Silence. Then, another round of licks.

Troy waited for something to happen. And then it did. To his surprise, the things began uncoiling from his limbs, releasing him from their grip.

Huh?

He stood there in stunned silence as they unwrapped themselves from him, first releasing his arms, then his torso, and finally his legs as if the last minute had been put into reverse. Finally free of their burden, he hopped from one leg to the other to get the blood flowing back to them. As he did, that slithering sound receded back into the darkness from where it came, and then silence. He was alone, in the gloom.

He turned on the spot, wondering what just happened. “Hey!” he shouted. “What’s going on? Where’s my future bride?”

He was answered by silence, only the dank atmosphere around him for company.

“What have I come all the way down here from Chicago for?” he asked out loud. He groaned and dusted down his Hawaiian shirt and white chinos. “Assholes,” he grumbled to himself.