"Just For Shrieks"
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dochermes"Just For Shrieks"
11/1-11/3/2008
I.
Sheng Mo-Yuan, known as Argent, sat in the Panda restaurant on Canal Street, waiting impatiently for his shrimp har kew. He dipped some of the hard noodles in the tiny dish of mustard and chewed on them one after another. At twenty-eight, he stood five foot six and his body had hardened to a wiry one hundred and fifty pounds under Kumundu training. Sheng looked Asian, but ambiguously so. He had coarse black hair and a double eyelid fold, but his hawklike nose and high cheekbones were slightly contradictory. Asians themselves took him to be Korean, possibly Mongolian but the truth was stranger. Sheng was from the adjacent realm of Chujir and legends had his people as the ancestors of the Han.
Today, he was wearing sneakers, jeans and a maroon polo shirt with white trim. A dark blue sweatshirt that zippered down the front was draped over the back of his chair. Sheng felt like he was starving, as usual, but then it was eight-thirty at night and he not eaten since an early breakfast. Impatient at the best of times, having a day wasted on a fruitless search had not helped his disposition.
He glanced up as an old Chinese man in black slacks and a long-sleeved white dress shirt came up to him. "May I speak with you, younger brother?" he asked in Cantonese.
"I am honored by your company," Sheng replied, half-rising from his chair, "and can only apologize that my Cantonese is so poor."
"If I may be so bold, I have seen you walking this neighborhood all day. You have the air of a man searching, and from the look in your eyes, it is not a pleasant duty."
"True words," Sheng said. "I am hunting dangerous prey. Tell me, uncle, has anyone seen signs of the Undead here?"
The old man blinked. "What do you know of such things?"
"I am a knight of Tel Shai. My duty is to protect the living against the unliving. Do you believe such monsters exist, uncle?"
"Absolutely. Back home, my village was plagued by one for years. Finally, we sent for a Taoist priest who bound him with rolls of paper on which were written holy words."
Sheng shook his head. "Ah, these are Western vampires. They obey the rules of their kind, not those of the East. There have been so many disturbing reports for the past two weeks. Missing people. Bodies found with no blood in their veins. Bats at windows. The police run in circles and get nowhere. The streets are growing empty at night."
"All this I have seen," said the old man. "Come with me, I will show you evidence." He got stiffly to his feet again. "Do not worry, your meal will be kept for you."
"Thank you." Argent rose, shrugging on his sweatshirt as he followed the man across the restaurant to an unmarked wooden door near the exit. Steep concrete steps led them down to a stone-walled cellar stacked with cardboard boxes of food, table cloths, other supplies. There, getting up from the bare floor, was a bony man in rags. He crouched and hissed catlike through white fands as Sheng approached.
Closing the door at the top of the steps, the old man chuckled. "Have you found what you are looking for, my friend?"
Strangely, Argent did not seem alarmed at the horrifying sight of a walking corpse. His voice was as calm as before. "At least today is not a total waste." As he stepped forward, the vampire sprang at him with clawlike fingers clutching and Sheng exploded a straight punch to the chest that sounded like a gun going off. The Undead flew backwards across the cellar to smack into the stone wall with bone-cracking force. Sheng took two quick steps to seize the creature and throw it to the floor. Vampires were stronger than living Humans, deadly foes to encounter, but Argent pinned the monster down and casually broke its arms and legs one after the other. The Undead flopped violently, trying to slash its intended prey with its fangs but Sheng easily held him out of reach. Clamping his hands on the side of the monster's face, the Chujiran twisted and yanked and the vampire's head popped entirely off.
Tossing the head to one side, Argent watched the decapitated body twitch for a moment before growing still. No blood flowed from the ragged end of the neck. The Chujiran grunted in satisfaction, then abruptly turned his attention to the old Chinese man still standing paralzed on the stairs.
"Now you will give me information," Sheng said, raising his voice. "Why are there so many of these Undead? Who or what is their leader?" He took a single menacing step forward.
"Wait, wait. I will tell you. We owe no loyalty to these demons. The children of the night are being organized and disciplined into an army. They are led by one who is like them and yet still alive somehow.. one who drinks blood but who walks in sunlight. A living vampire."
Sheng came closer, almost within reach. "Go on."
"The leader is a white girl, not twenty years old. She calls herself Nancy Sinister."
II.
At ten o'clock, Nancy stirred and sat up on a broken couch piled with blankets and pillows. She could see perfectly well in the gloom of a chamber with no windows. This had been the storeroom of the old Sacred Heart Church ten years earlier, before declining attendance had led to the building being closed and boarded up. Standing near the Hudson, facing the blank brick wall of the fur warehouse next to it, the abandoned church was easy to sneak in and out of at night without being spotted.
And besides, for some arcane reason, the children of the night preferred to nest in locations that had once been holy. Nancy herself was drawn to this place as if she were meant to be here. Standing up in the dark, she felt like she didn't need to feed tonight. She still was full from that big victim the previous evening, and she had learned it was better to stay a little bit hungry.
Two days ago would have been her eighteenth birthday if she were still truly alive. It was too soon to tell if she was going to age normally or just stay the way she had been when her uncle cast the vampirism spell. Whatever. Nancy had lost all sentiment or desire to see her friends or family. She was a princess of darkness now, with followers rather than friends. Unbolting the door, she swung it open to find Ruth faithfully standing guard right outside. Ruth looked about fifty, a stocky woman with curly black hair. She had been Undead for three years now and she had become devoted to her new princess. Ruth was the only vampire that Nancy felt she could trust to guard her while she took her three-hour naps twice a day.
"Everything okay?" asked Nancy.
"Yes, princess. The three you selected rose and went out to feed. The others have remained quiet. Nothing to report."
"Good," said the living vampire. "If they return early enough, I will roust two others to go out hunting. But I do not want more than three of our kindred out at one time. There is less chance of discovery this way."
"I understand," Ruth replied. "But.. Pietro was complaining. He wants to feed every night. I think he will cause trouble."
Nancy Sinister hissed like a startled cat. She was only a teenager, only a few inches over five feet tall and quite thin, but suddenly she seemed very dangerous. Her voice was low and chilly, "Oh, I see. Let us talk to Pietro."
The electricity had long ago been turned off in this church, and no candles had been lit for twenty years. In the darkness, Nancy strode between rows of coffins laid neatly out like bunks in an Army barracks, closely arranged with barely room to step between them, and stopped before one of black wood with brass handles. Bending over, she raised the hinged upper section to reveal a fat Italian man with bushy white whiskers. Pietro did not take a breath, nor did he seem aware of his resting place being disturbed.
Nancy Sinister bent low, her straight black hair falling to touch the coffin. In a hollow sepulchral voice, she whispered, "Pietro, I bid you rise."
Deepset dark eyes snapped open and focussed on her. "Princess? What- what is it?"
"Are you unhappy with my laws, Pietro?" Nancy whispered. "Do you wish perhaps to defy me?"
"Me? Oh no, no, of course not. Are you- is it because I wanted to feed tonight?"
"Yes, Pietro, that is exactly the problem." The living vampire bent still closer and even in the murk, the red glint of her eyes was visible. "Our kin can rest for a week before they need blood. You know that. You are not truly hungry, you just enjoy the hunt. And the killing. But my law is that I send only a few of us out each night and it is not your turn tonight. Do you hear and obey?"
"Yes, princess, of course. I mean no disrepect."
"Good. Let us understand each other. I have twenty-two of our kind assembled here. More will join us. When the moment is right, we will all attack the Breathing on one glorious night and unleash our reign of terror. But not yet." She bent so low that, if she was breathing, he would have felt it. "But you know I am stronger than you. I am a daywalker. If you offend me, I will drag you out and leave you in the sunlight and I will watch you wither and fall apart. Now... back to your rest!" She snapped the upper lid of the coffin shut and straightened up.
Ruth had watched, but did not speak. The living vampire turned to her. "What of you, my friend? Do you thirst tonight?"
"No. I feasted well the last time I went out. Those children were plump and their blood was sweet. I am content."
"Very well," Nancy said. "I am going out for a little while. If the three chosen for tonight return, simply tell them to get back in their boxes. I will not be gone long."
Ruth bowed her head. "As you wish, Princess."
"There are enemies seeking us tonight," whispered Nancy Sinister as if to herself. "I can sense them. They will not live to see dawn."
III.
At twenty after ten, Argent walked briskly through the front doors of a four-story yellow brick building on 44th Street and 3rd Avenue. Most of the businesses there
were closed at that hour, but the walk-in clinic EMERGENCY ONE right inside the front door remained open until eleven. The Chujiran warrior strode past the staircase and down a short hallway next to it that ended in a metal exit door. Just to his left was a plain wooden door with a brass plaque that read DIRE WOLF AGENCY. Sheng found the outer door propped open, and he entered the tiny waiting room to see the inner door also wide open.
Standing in his office, studying a huge map tacked to a wall, was Jeremy Bane. The Dire Wolf had turned as he heard Sheng approach. A gaunt man dressed all in black, at fifty Bane looked much the same as he always had. There were only a few white specks in the short black hair and the pale grey eyes were as alert and piercing as ever. "Sheng. You look like you have some news."
"Oh yes indeed, captain." Sheng crossed over to stand beside the Dire Wolf. "I encountered one of the Undead and finished him. And I believe I know who is organizing the vampires of this city into a gang. Apparently, a young girl who is alive but has vampire traits."
Bane turned those pale eyes on him with a new gleam in them. "Nancy Sinister!"
"Ah, you know such a creature?"
"We clashed very briefly. She got away. The Mandate is looking for her because she killed a dozen of their agents. For a teenager, she's really cunning. I haven't been able to track her down and neither has the Mandate. What have you found out?"
Argent shrugged. "Not much more than the name. An old man named Tien Lo-Hsu was keeping an Undead in his cellar because it had been a nephew of his when it was alive. He tried to feed me to it, but I pulled the thing's head off and Tien decided to talk. Apparently, this Nancy Sinister has taken it upon herself to get every vampire in Manhattan under her control as a kind of gang. How she can do that is beyond me."
"She has advantages. Nancy can walk in daylight, she's not affected by holy objects, she casts a reflection in mirrors. And yet, somehow she is a vampire. She drinks blood to survive, she's hard to injure or restrain, she's stronger and faster than a living Human. So she has the powers of a vampire but not the weaknesses." Bane folded his arms and started to pace. "So, you can see how she can offer vampires protection during the day when they're vulnerable but she can also meet them on their own terms."
"I have never heard of such a thing," Sheng said. He pointed to a cabinet against the fair wall. "Okay if I help myself? I didn't get lunch OR supper today."
"Go right ahead," Bane answered as he went back to the map hanging in front of him. It was the biggest one he could find of Manhattan, and he had inserted over thirty colored pushpins at various points. "Nancy was made into a living vampire by her uncle, Ezra Gideon. He was a Red Sect sorcerer. She was so grateful she made him into her first victim."
Digging into a 12" ham and cheese sub, Argent had to swallow before he could ask, "What is that map, captain?"
"It's not working out too well. I'm marking the sites where bloodless bodies have been found in the past two weeks. Fourteen so far, those are the black pins. The white pins are where missing people had last been seen. I've got eleven of those who might be vampire victims but who might just be runaways or victims of regular homicide. To be honest, I don't see any pattern at all."
Getting near to finishing the sub, Sheng came over to study the map. "No," he said after a second, "I don't see it either. The killings seem to be evenly spaced. As if our Nancy is planning them to cover the entire city evenly."
"Hm. Maybe that's a pattern in itself. There's one area empty so far. The west side near Times Square. No killings between 59th and 42nd west of Fifth Avenue." Bane tapped the map with a finger for emphasis. "It's just possible that Nancy might give herself away by doing the next killing in that area because she wants to keep an even spread across the city."
"Could be. She's not an experienced criminal or anything. What do you intend to do?"
"Set out some bait," Bane said. "You and I."
"You know, captain, aren't the police searching the streets more than usual with all these suspicious deaths? And what about the Mandate?"
"They're both looking," Bane said. "Montez said one hundred cops were pulled off desk jobs or training academy to go on patrol. I heard that the cops cornered a vampire two nights ago, but of course regular bullets didn't stop it from climbing a chain link fence and getting away. The NYPD thinks it's dealing with a serial killer or Satanic cult or something, they can't admit they're looking for genuine vampires. And the Mandate has limited manpower. They're more a research and investigatory bureau than an army. I don't think they have more than fifty agents in the Tri-State area altogether." He turned away from the map and pulled up a chair next to long leather couch. Argent plopped down on the couch and crossed one leg over the other knee.
"Well, I'm ready to walk around all night hoping to be attacked by vampires," he said to Bane. "Sounds like fun."
"Sheng, your power to turn strong or fast or invulnerable is very versatile. And you have been a Tel Shai knight for what, eight years now? With all the Kumundu training under Chael," Bane told him. "I know you can take on almost any opponent and win. But, just being prudent, I got some gear out of storage." He reached over by the side of the couch and lifted a large burlap sack. Rummaging around inside it, the Dire Wolf pulled out a bundle of wooden sticks slightly thicker and longer than arrows, sharpened at one end and with a metal ring near the middle.
Bane hefted one thoughtfully. "Mr Dred had some of these made for me when I first started working for him. They're weighted so they can be thrown accurately. Within a month of the day I met him, I jammed one of these into the chest of a Vampire Lord named Benazar and found they work fine. We'll each carry six of these, I have a harness you can strap around your torso to hold them."
Taking one of the stakes, Sheng laughed. "You don't have to sell me on them. I believe in being prepared. What else have you got?"
"I've found that most of the weapons from folklore aren't reliable. Crucifixes, garlic, all sometimes work and sometimes don't. Wood through the heart seems to always do the job, though. I tried ultra-violet light with poor results. Even bulbs which duplicate the spectrum of sunlight only occasionally work."
Argent shrugged. "It's not a scientific situation, Jeremy. Sunlight kills vampires because it is the holy radiance of the gods, not because of its spectrum. That's what I believe. What about the Eldar talismans we both wear?"
"Again, sometimes they protect and sometimes not. It's annoying that not much can really be counted on. We'll roam the area seperately and keep in touch through the Links." He glanced up at the clock on the wall behind his desk. "Most of the killings tooks place well after midnight. We've got two hours, do you feel like getting a late dinner?"
"Absolutely! Like you, I am always hungry. Let's go."
"You pick the place," Bane said. "Everyone says my tastes are too predictable."
As he headed for the office door, Sheng asked, "Have you tried Vietnamese food...?"
IV.
Eighth Avenue near 42nd Street was still a little sleazy, with adult gift shops and peep shows and a few dubious hotels that rented rooms by the hour. Most of Times Square had been cleaned up and made into glossy tourist traps, but pockets of the dark side still lingered. Nancy Sinister strolled slowly through the crowds, hands in the pockets of her Navy blue windbreaker. As she stood under a streetlight, she looked quite dramatic with lank black hair, pale skin and bright blue eyes. Lately she had started wearing black lipstick and eyeliner on the theory that she would actually be less conspicuous if people thought she was just a high school kid playing Goth.
Watching the crowds, seeing the gawking tourists and the bored natives and the bewildered foreigners trying to navigate, it was hard for her not to laugh out loud. They looked so helpless, so vulnerable. If she wanted to, she could seize that man or that woman and pin them against a store window without even feeling their struggles. She could sink her fangs in their throats and suck up the hot salty blood, and then throw them down and run away faster than any living person could catch. Nancy saw a college age boy staring at her speculatively and she gave him a wry smile. If he only knew what she was thinking...
Turning west toward Ninth Avenue, she found the crowds thinned out almost at once. Here were buildings with offices of doctors and law firms and realtors, all closed now. Here was a parking garage with a bored fat man sitting in a chair near the entrance ramp. Only two or three people were in sight at one time, and as the night got colder, fewer would be seen. She had told two of her followers to hunt here tonight, but she did not expect them to be ready to strike yet.
Nancy sensed enemies tonight. Since the vampire spell had taken hold on her, the world seemed different. She operated more and more on instinct, like a predatory animal. The wind picked up and blew her hair back, but she did not feel the chill. A middle-aged man, dressed quite well with a topcoat over a suit, smiled at her appraisingly. For a second, she thought of flirting with him, maybe luring him into an alley with a hint that sex for money was available, and then drinking his blood. No. Her followers were in this area tonight. She would not risk a possible uproar that would jeopardize their feeding. Nancy sighed and walked on. Tomorrow, she would pick some fool for her own feast.
An hour went by as she walked tirelessly up Ninth Avenue as far as 59th Street, then crossed over and started back down again. The wind chill was making passers-by scarcer, and even cars became less numerous as people started going home. Nancy felt it was a good night for hunting, just as she spotted one of her followers standing in the mouth of an alley. She halted, then stepped into a darkened doorway herself to watch him.
It was Artie. She knew him at once, that short stocky outline with the untidy mop of blonde hair. He had only been one of the Undead a short time, and had nearly gotten caught twice before Nancy had found him and taken him in. She had taught him her laws and she hoped had instilled some caution in him, but she worried his bloodlust outruled his prudence. Still, he was hard to see in the darkness of the alley and she doubted that a living person would spot him. She waited and watched critically.
Ten minutes went by. Then a man walked slowly up the street. He was just about six feet tall, thin, wearing a long black coat and thin black leather gloves. Nancy straightened and watched him with sudden interest. He was familiar. He was an enemy. In the gloom, her irises turned red and her canines sharpened and extended down half an inch longer. The living vampire held herself motionless with difficulty. She saw him approach the alley, saw Artie step forward and ask a question. God knew what obvious ploy Artie said, maybe asking for a dollar or for a light. But the stranger paused obligingly and Artie suddenly seized him by the arm and yanked him into the alley.
Suddenly alarmed beyond reason, Nancy Sinister flashed down the block into that alley, just in time to see the stranger whip out a high side kick she could barely follow. He was faster than Human, fast as a vampire himself but he was definitely one of the Breathing. Artie slammed back against the brick wall behind him and bounced back right into a savage backfist that flung him down to the alley paving. The stranger yanked a short wooden stake from under his coat somewhere and crouched on one knee as he raised it. Just as he plunged that stake into Artie's chest, Nancy pounced upon him from behind, driving him flat to the ground. She grabbed the back of his head and smashed his face to the paving as hard as she could. Again. He went limp and she jumped up, swinging around to see if any living Humans had seen her. No one was in sight. A dark SUV rolled to a stop at the corner but went on obliviously.
The living vampire bent over Artie. Nothing could be done for him. The stake was through his heart and he was now just a regular corpse. Dead, not Undead. Nancy hissed angrily and turned the stranger over. His face was bloodied from a broken nose but she recognized him. This was the man who had confronted her at Courtney's apartment only a few weeks earlier. What, was he a sort of vampire hunter or something?
Then, to her astonishment, he moaned and stirred. How could he still be alive? She had killed men with much lighter blows. Nancy drew back her fist and punched him with all her inhuman strength, and his face should have caved in but instead he just lapsed back into unconsciousness. Whatever this stranger was, he was hard to kill. She wanted to learn what his secret was. What if there were more of him? Nancy Sinister stood up and spun to walk to the corner and wait. She needed a car.
V.
For an hour, Sheng Mo-Tuan wandered through Times Square. The crowds were much smaller than usual, and people seemed in a hurry to finish whatever they were doing and head home. He could see fear in many faces. All the mysterious disappearances and discovery of bloodless bodies had had its effect. More police cars than usual rolled past, and twice he saw a pair of fit-looking young men in black suits and ties stride past, searching with their eyes. Agents of the Mandate. Sheng moved on.
Working with his captain again made the Chujiran happy. It was funny to remember how much trouble he had given Bane when they had first met, how rebellious and conceited he had been when first joining the new KDF team... he had believed for the first few months that he should be made captain because Bane was old and in the way. Well, he had changed quickly. Eight years now of living in the world beyond Chujir, working with Sable and Josef and Unicorn, fighting deadly foes and learning to trust his teammates. Much had changed.
At 50th Street, he turned west. Times Square itself was too brightly lit for the creatures of the night to be active. He headed toward Eighth Avenue, where there were fewer neon signs and floodlights, and saw only a few people rushing along the sidewalks. This was more a fit hunting ground for the Undead.
Time crawled by. Sheng kept moving, gravitating toward darkened doorways and run-down parking lots and the like. It struck him as funny that he was deliberately going into areas that most people would instinctively avoid. Once, he thought he spotted one person grappling with another between two buildings but it turned out to be just a drug deal. No concern of his. Finally, he got so impatient that he decided to see if Bane had something more interesting going on. He took his Link from its holster at the back of his belt and buzzed the one carried by his captain. Bane's Link would be set to silent vibration but he should respond. After fifteen seconds with no response, Argent frowned. He started walking faster, getting to Ninth Avenue and glaring around suspiciously. The Chujiran tried contacting his captain and still got no answer.
Sheng held up his Link in the light from a streetlamp and made some adjustments. That darn Trom Girl had been making these devices even more complicated than they already were, and sometimes he felt he had lost track of everything they could do. After a few more minutes, he got the Link so a blinking green light appeared on its screen. This was tied to the signal from Bane's Link. As Sheng started heading back toward Times Square, the green light got dimmer. As he walked south, it brightened again.
Well, even I can follow this, he thought. Jogging lightly through the night, he started heading downtown. All his instincts told him that this was going to be a showdown.
VI.
Bane almost revived, groaned and sank back into unconsciousness. Squatting near him, Nancy Sinister watched with interest. This man certainly took a lot of punishment without dying. Despite the fact he should not survive much longer, the princess of darkness had found some clothesline and tied his wrists and ankles together more tightly than was really necessary. She had lit a dozen tall white candles and placed them around the church. None of the other vampires were active at the moment, with Ruth standing watch outside. One of her kin that she had allowed to go hunting had not returned yet and she wondered if maybe this man had destroyed him.
Rising, the living vampire looked over the items she had taken from the enemy's pockets. Five pointed stakes just a little bigger than arrows, worn in a harness around the body... there was proof this Bane was a vampire hunter. A long-barreled Smith & Wesson .38 revolver, several small gadgets she could not identify. A leather wallet identified this man as Jeremy Bane, owner of the Dire Wolf Agency, whatever that was. Searching this man had been extremely uncomfortable for her. There was something about being within reach of Bane that repelled and stung her.
She could not know, but concealed in padded sheaths on his forearms were two matched silver daggers. Their blades had been ensorcelled by the Eldarin to become ensalir, a potent force against evil. Just being near those daggers troubled her.
Nancy stared down at the man and wondered what his story was. It had been a busy night for her so far. Standing on the corner on Ninth Avenue, she had smiled as a man pulled up and asked her if she needed a ride. Apparently, this was a common way to pick up streetwalkers. She had gone with him a few blocks until he had pulled into a darkened parking lot and turned to her with a leer. Nancy had plunged her fangs into his neck and drunk her fill. His blood was sour, meaning he had a bad diet. Then she had tossed his body into a dumpster, driven the car back to the alley and hauled the stranger unconscious into the back seat.
Driving back to the Sacred Heart Church, Nancy had brought him inside and told Ruth to watch him, then dumped the car a mile away and run back. She was concerned that there might be others like this man, perhaps a group of experienced vampire hunters and, if so, she needed to know all about them. Now she stood over the man and watched as he again struggled to revive.
Nancy knew nothing of Tel Shai, nothing of the tagra tea which gave its knights healing powers beyond what medical science could explain. As she waited, Bane took a deep, shuddering breath and sat up as far as he could before realizing his wrists were tied together behind his back and his ankles were tied together as well. He sank back down and took in the situation.
"Well," he said. "Nancy Gideon. You're a hard girl to get to meet."
"Nancy Gideon is dead. Or Undead. Call me Nancy Sinister. And you, Jeremy Bane? Just what exactly are you that you can fight vampires and survive head trauma that would kill a mule?"
"I'm nobody special," he answered. "Nice little place you've got here, Nancy. Don't tell me you have a vampire inside each of those coffins!"
She laughed for the first time since leaving the world of the living. "Absolutely. I think there are only three or four vampires left in Manhattan not under my control, and I'll locate them soon. Meet the new gang. You think street thugs are tough? You haven't seen anything yet, Mr Bane."
"And what do you get out of this? What's your motive?"
"Just for laughs. No, for shrieks. Just for shrieks, that's my new slogan. Listen, how many more are there like you?"
The Dire Wolf did not hesitate. "There's just me. I work alone. Vampires killed my girlfriend a long time ago, so I set out to stake every one of them I can find."
"Really?" asked Nancy. "I don't know if I believe you. Maybe some torture is called for. I can make you tell me everything."
"You can try."
"No, wait." The princess of darkness went over and smiled down at him. "My victims do not become Undead themselves. I'm a special case. But if one of my followers was to feed on you and you die... well, you know. In three nights you will rise as a vampire yourself, and then you will be mine to command."
Concealed behind his body, Bane had managed to get the fingers of his left hand to the top of one of his boots. A thickened ridge there concealed a razor blade and he carefully tugged it loose. He had been carrying gimmicks like these for decades and they had been life-saving more than once. Gingerly, trying not to gash his skin, he began to slice through the clothesline holding his ankles together.
To keep Nancy Sinister distracted, he kept talking. "I'm not the one you need to worry about, kid. Remember that spy group that took you prisoner? And you killed almost a dozen of them escaping? They're called the Mandate. They're bringing in hundreds of agents from all over the country to search every inch of this city."
Nancy stared at him in alarm, then caught herself. "They haven't done such a hot job so far. Are you up to something?"
"And then there are the vampire lords. You don't even know about them yet, do you?
Vampires who have been Undead for hundreds of years, getting more powerful, mastering abilities you don't even realize you have. The vampire lords have crushed upstarts like you many times before." Bane shifted his weight just a bit, and went on. "They're a mean bunch. You won't look your best without any skin left."
"So you say. I don't know if I believe you. Are you stalling for time, Breather?"
"Not any more," he answered as he leaped to his feet and drove a front snap kick to her chin that smacked her jaw shut and flung her back off her feet. Bane tossed the razor blade aside; carrying them in his boots had been suggested to him by Michael Hawk, who wore clothes packed with concealed gimmicks, and the trick had gotten him free a dozen times. The Dire Wolf crossed his arms and straightened them out with a slim black-handled dagger in each hand. The ensalir blades gleamed coldly in the hellish atmosphere of that desecrated church.
Scrambling to her feet, the princess of darkness screamed in a hollow voice, "All of you, arise! Kill the living man, I command you!" All around her, coffin lids rose and the Undead slowly sat up. She broke into malicious laughter.
Then the door to the church slammed inward with a bang, despite the fact it had been nailed shut. Lowering his leg from that kick, Sheng Mo-Yuan stepped through, a magnesium road flare in each hand and a fierce grin on his face. "Here I am, captain!"
"Never more glad to see you, Sheng. Let's clean this hellhole up."
VII.
The next three minutes were a haze of deadly motion. Argent ignited the flares and tossed them to the floor, their intense sputtering ends filled the church with intolerable bright light. The two Tel Shai knights went on the attack. Bane whirled through the Undead as they rose from their caskets, swinging his arms in precise windmill strokes that slashed the silver daggers deeply across the creatures. Those blades had broken stronger spells than vampirism. As their edges sliced across chests and throats, the Undead froze into position and fell where they were, truly dead at last. The Dire Wolf was not still an instant. Every vampire that tried to seize him found razor-sharp silver cutting deeply into his cold flesh. The white glare from the flares sparking on the floor made them dazed and slow to react.
Argent had focussed his attributes into speed. At his best, he was nearly as quick as Bane and his Kumundu training made him a whirlwind of arms and legs whipping out to strike the vampires away. He drove stakes into the chests of the first two who attacked him, yanked out two more stakes from the harness around his torso and nailed two more of the creatures before he was tackled from behind. In another split-second, he would have been bitten by fangs more dangerous than those of any snake but Argent reacted by shifting his attribute into invulnerability. His flesh abruptly was impervious as steel and the baffled vampire could not pierce his skin. Sheng reached back to seize the Undead, yank him off his back and smash him down viciously to the floor. One more stake thumped home into an unbeating heart and Argent jumped up to get back into the fight.
Three minutes had passed. Jeremy Bane lowered his arms as he saw no more of the creatures to handle. Argent let out a deep breath and said, "That was...quite the experience, captain."
The Dire Wolf glanced at his daggers. Their blades were free of blood, as clean as if he had never drawn them. Then he realized. "Their leader. Nancy Sinister. Have you seen her?"
"No. I was a little busy, captain." Argent looked around. "I know I didn't fight her."
With infinite disgust, Bane sheathed his weapons. "She ran like a rabbit. I have no respect for leaders who abandon their troops to save their own skins. Now we're back where we started. The hunt will just have to start all over again."
"Captain, think for a second. This has not been a wasted night. Look around you."
Bane gave one of his rare, barely perceptible smiles. "Hah! You're right, Sheng. Twenty-two vampires destroyed. Nancy said she had gathered almost every vampire in New York City here tonight. And we wiped them out."
"We should thank her for getting them together in one convenient spot," Sheng laughed. "I think she did us a favor!"
7/11/2014
11/1-11/3/2008
I.
Sheng Mo-Yuan, known as Argent, sat in the Panda restaurant on Canal Street, waiting impatiently for his shrimp har kew. He dipped some of the hard noodles in the tiny dish of mustard and chewed on them one after another. At twenty-eight, he stood five foot six and his body had hardened to a wiry one hundred and fifty pounds under Kumundu training. Sheng looked Asian, but ambiguously so. He had coarse black hair and a double eyelid fold, but his hawklike nose and high cheekbones were slightly contradictory. Asians themselves took him to be Korean, possibly Mongolian but the truth was stranger. Sheng was from the adjacent realm of Chujir and legends had his people as the ancestors of the Han.
Today, he was wearing sneakers, jeans and a maroon polo shirt with white trim. A dark blue sweatshirt that zippered down the front was draped over the back of his chair. Sheng felt like he was starving, as usual, but then it was eight-thirty at night and he not eaten since an early breakfast. Impatient at the best of times, having a day wasted on a fruitless search had not helped his disposition.
He glanced up as an old Chinese man in black slacks and a long-sleeved white dress shirt came up to him. "May I speak with you, younger brother?" he asked in Cantonese.
"I am honored by your company," Sheng replied, half-rising from his chair, "and can only apologize that my Cantonese is so poor."
"If I may be so bold, I have seen you walking this neighborhood all day. You have the air of a man searching, and from the look in your eyes, it is not a pleasant duty."
"True words," Sheng said. "I am hunting dangerous prey. Tell me, uncle, has anyone seen signs of the Undead here?"
The old man blinked. "What do you know of such things?"
"I am a knight of Tel Shai. My duty is to protect the living against the unliving. Do you believe such monsters exist, uncle?"
"Absolutely. Back home, my village was plagued by one for years. Finally, we sent for a Taoist priest who bound him with rolls of paper on which were written holy words."
Sheng shook his head. "Ah, these are Western vampires. They obey the rules of their kind, not those of the East. There have been so many disturbing reports for the past two weeks. Missing people. Bodies found with no blood in their veins. Bats at windows. The police run in circles and get nowhere. The streets are growing empty at night."
"All this I have seen," said the old man. "Come with me, I will show you evidence." He got stiffly to his feet again. "Do not worry, your meal will be kept for you."
"Thank you." Argent rose, shrugging on his sweatshirt as he followed the man across the restaurant to an unmarked wooden door near the exit. Steep concrete steps led them down to a stone-walled cellar stacked with cardboard boxes of food, table cloths, other supplies. There, getting up from the bare floor, was a bony man in rags. He crouched and hissed catlike through white fands as Sheng approached.
Closing the door at the top of the steps, the old man chuckled. "Have you found what you are looking for, my friend?"
Strangely, Argent did not seem alarmed at the horrifying sight of a walking corpse. His voice was as calm as before. "At least today is not a total waste." As he stepped forward, the vampire sprang at him with clawlike fingers clutching and Sheng exploded a straight punch to the chest that sounded like a gun going off. The Undead flew backwards across the cellar to smack into the stone wall with bone-cracking force. Sheng took two quick steps to seize the creature and throw it to the floor. Vampires were stronger than living Humans, deadly foes to encounter, but Argent pinned the monster down and casually broke its arms and legs one after the other. The Undead flopped violently, trying to slash its intended prey with its fangs but Sheng easily held him out of reach. Clamping his hands on the side of the monster's face, the Chujiran twisted and yanked and the vampire's head popped entirely off.
Tossing the head to one side, Argent watched the decapitated body twitch for a moment before growing still. No blood flowed from the ragged end of the neck. The Chujiran grunted in satisfaction, then abruptly turned his attention to the old Chinese man still standing paralzed on the stairs.
"Now you will give me information," Sheng said, raising his voice. "Why are there so many of these Undead? Who or what is their leader?" He took a single menacing step forward.
"Wait, wait. I will tell you. We owe no loyalty to these demons. The children of the night are being organized and disciplined into an army. They are led by one who is like them and yet still alive somehow.. one who drinks blood but who walks in sunlight. A living vampire."
Sheng came closer, almost within reach. "Go on."
"The leader is a white girl, not twenty years old. She calls herself Nancy Sinister."
II.
At ten o'clock, Nancy stirred and sat up on a broken couch piled with blankets and pillows. She could see perfectly well in the gloom of a chamber with no windows. This had been the storeroom of the old Sacred Heart Church ten years earlier, before declining attendance had led to the building being closed and boarded up. Standing near the Hudson, facing the blank brick wall of the fur warehouse next to it, the abandoned church was easy to sneak in and out of at night without being spotted.
And besides, for some arcane reason, the children of the night preferred to nest in locations that had once been holy. Nancy herself was drawn to this place as if she were meant to be here. Standing up in the dark, she felt like she didn't need to feed tonight. She still was full from that big victim the previous evening, and she had learned it was better to stay a little bit hungry.
Two days ago would have been her eighteenth birthday if she were still truly alive. It was too soon to tell if she was going to age normally or just stay the way she had been when her uncle cast the vampirism spell. Whatever. Nancy had lost all sentiment or desire to see her friends or family. She was a princess of darkness now, with followers rather than friends. Unbolting the door, she swung it open to find Ruth faithfully standing guard right outside. Ruth looked about fifty, a stocky woman with curly black hair. She had been Undead for three years now and she had become devoted to her new princess. Ruth was the only vampire that Nancy felt she could trust to guard her while she took her three-hour naps twice a day.
"Everything okay?" asked Nancy.
"Yes, princess. The three you selected rose and went out to feed. The others have remained quiet. Nothing to report."
"Good," said the living vampire. "If they return early enough, I will roust two others to go out hunting. But I do not want more than three of our kindred out at one time. There is less chance of discovery this way."
"I understand," Ruth replied. "But.. Pietro was complaining. He wants to feed every night. I think he will cause trouble."
Nancy Sinister hissed like a startled cat. She was only a teenager, only a few inches over five feet tall and quite thin, but suddenly she seemed very dangerous. Her voice was low and chilly, "Oh, I see. Let us talk to Pietro."
The electricity had long ago been turned off in this church, and no candles had been lit for twenty years. In the darkness, Nancy strode between rows of coffins laid neatly out like bunks in an Army barracks, closely arranged with barely room to step between them, and stopped before one of black wood with brass handles. Bending over, she raised the hinged upper section to reveal a fat Italian man with bushy white whiskers. Pietro did not take a breath, nor did he seem aware of his resting place being disturbed.
Nancy Sinister bent low, her straight black hair falling to touch the coffin. In a hollow sepulchral voice, she whispered, "Pietro, I bid you rise."
Deepset dark eyes snapped open and focussed on her. "Princess? What- what is it?"
"Are you unhappy with my laws, Pietro?" Nancy whispered. "Do you wish perhaps to defy me?"
"Me? Oh no, no, of course not. Are you- is it because I wanted to feed tonight?"
"Yes, Pietro, that is exactly the problem." The living vampire bent still closer and even in the murk, the red glint of her eyes was visible. "Our kin can rest for a week before they need blood. You know that. You are not truly hungry, you just enjoy the hunt. And the killing. But my law is that I send only a few of us out each night and it is not your turn tonight. Do you hear and obey?"
"Yes, princess, of course. I mean no disrepect."
"Good. Let us understand each other. I have twenty-two of our kind assembled here. More will join us. When the moment is right, we will all attack the Breathing on one glorious night and unleash our reign of terror. But not yet." She bent so low that, if she was breathing, he would have felt it. "But you know I am stronger than you. I am a daywalker. If you offend me, I will drag you out and leave you in the sunlight and I will watch you wither and fall apart. Now... back to your rest!" She snapped the upper lid of the coffin shut and straightened up.
Ruth had watched, but did not speak. The living vampire turned to her. "What of you, my friend? Do you thirst tonight?"
"No. I feasted well the last time I went out. Those children were plump and their blood was sweet. I am content."
"Very well," Nancy said. "I am going out for a little while. If the three chosen for tonight return, simply tell them to get back in their boxes. I will not be gone long."
Ruth bowed her head. "As you wish, Princess."
"There are enemies seeking us tonight," whispered Nancy Sinister as if to herself. "I can sense them. They will not live to see dawn."
III.
At twenty after ten, Argent walked briskly through the front doors of a four-story yellow brick building on 44th Street and 3rd Avenue. Most of the businesses there
were closed at that hour, but the walk-in clinic EMERGENCY ONE right inside the front door remained open until eleven. The Chujiran warrior strode past the staircase and down a short hallway next to it that ended in a metal exit door. Just to his left was a plain wooden door with a brass plaque that read DIRE WOLF AGENCY. Sheng found the outer door propped open, and he entered the tiny waiting room to see the inner door also wide open.
Standing in his office, studying a huge map tacked to a wall, was Jeremy Bane. The Dire Wolf had turned as he heard Sheng approach. A gaunt man dressed all in black, at fifty Bane looked much the same as he always had. There were only a few white specks in the short black hair and the pale grey eyes were as alert and piercing as ever. "Sheng. You look like you have some news."
"Oh yes indeed, captain." Sheng crossed over to stand beside the Dire Wolf. "I encountered one of the Undead and finished him. And I believe I know who is organizing the vampires of this city into a gang. Apparently, a young girl who is alive but has vampire traits."
Bane turned those pale eyes on him with a new gleam in them. "Nancy Sinister!"
"Ah, you know such a creature?"
"We clashed very briefly. She got away. The Mandate is looking for her because she killed a dozen of their agents. For a teenager, she's really cunning. I haven't been able to track her down and neither has the Mandate. What have you found out?"
Argent shrugged. "Not much more than the name. An old man named Tien Lo-Hsu was keeping an Undead in his cellar because it had been a nephew of his when it was alive. He tried to feed me to it, but I pulled the thing's head off and Tien decided to talk. Apparently, this Nancy Sinister has taken it upon herself to get every vampire in Manhattan under her control as a kind of gang. How she can do that is beyond me."
"She has advantages. Nancy can walk in daylight, she's not affected by holy objects, she casts a reflection in mirrors. And yet, somehow she is a vampire. She drinks blood to survive, she's hard to injure or restrain, she's stronger and faster than a living Human. So she has the powers of a vampire but not the weaknesses." Bane folded his arms and started to pace. "So, you can see how she can offer vampires protection during the day when they're vulnerable but she can also meet them on their own terms."
"I have never heard of such a thing," Sheng said. He pointed to a cabinet against the fair wall. "Okay if I help myself? I didn't get lunch OR supper today."
"Go right ahead," Bane answered as he went back to the map hanging in front of him. It was the biggest one he could find of Manhattan, and he had inserted over thirty colored pushpins at various points. "Nancy was made into a living vampire by her uncle, Ezra Gideon. He was a Red Sect sorcerer. She was so grateful she made him into her first victim."
Digging into a 12" ham and cheese sub, Argent had to swallow before he could ask, "What is that map, captain?"
"It's not working out too well. I'm marking the sites where bloodless bodies have been found in the past two weeks. Fourteen so far, those are the black pins. The white pins are where missing people had last been seen. I've got eleven of those who might be vampire victims but who might just be runaways or victims of regular homicide. To be honest, I don't see any pattern at all."
Getting near to finishing the sub, Sheng came over to study the map. "No," he said after a second, "I don't see it either. The killings seem to be evenly spaced. As if our Nancy is planning them to cover the entire city evenly."
"Hm. Maybe that's a pattern in itself. There's one area empty so far. The west side near Times Square. No killings between 59th and 42nd west of Fifth Avenue." Bane tapped the map with a finger for emphasis. "It's just possible that Nancy might give herself away by doing the next killing in that area because she wants to keep an even spread across the city."
"Could be. She's not an experienced criminal or anything. What do you intend to do?"
"Set out some bait," Bane said. "You and I."
"You know, captain, aren't the police searching the streets more than usual with all these suspicious deaths? And what about the Mandate?"
"They're both looking," Bane said. "Montez said one hundred cops were pulled off desk jobs or training academy to go on patrol. I heard that the cops cornered a vampire two nights ago, but of course regular bullets didn't stop it from climbing a chain link fence and getting away. The NYPD thinks it's dealing with a serial killer or Satanic cult or something, they can't admit they're looking for genuine vampires. And the Mandate has limited manpower. They're more a research and investigatory bureau than an army. I don't think they have more than fifty agents in the Tri-State area altogether." He turned away from the map and pulled up a chair next to long leather couch. Argent plopped down on the couch and crossed one leg over the other knee.
"Well, I'm ready to walk around all night hoping to be attacked by vampires," he said to Bane. "Sounds like fun."
"Sheng, your power to turn strong or fast or invulnerable is very versatile. And you have been a Tel Shai knight for what, eight years now? With all the Kumundu training under Chael," Bane told him. "I know you can take on almost any opponent and win. But, just being prudent, I got some gear out of storage." He reached over by the side of the couch and lifted a large burlap sack. Rummaging around inside it, the Dire Wolf pulled out a bundle of wooden sticks slightly thicker and longer than arrows, sharpened at one end and with a metal ring near the middle.
Bane hefted one thoughtfully. "Mr Dred had some of these made for me when I first started working for him. They're weighted so they can be thrown accurately. Within a month of the day I met him, I jammed one of these into the chest of a Vampire Lord named Benazar and found they work fine. We'll each carry six of these, I have a harness you can strap around your torso to hold them."
Taking one of the stakes, Sheng laughed. "You don't have to sell me on them. I believe in being prepared. What else have you got?"
"I've found that most of the weapons from folklore aren't reliable. Crucifixes, garlic, all sometimes work and sometimes don't. Wood through the heart seems to always do the job, though. I tried ultra-violet light with poor results. Even bulbs which duplicate the spectrum of sunlight only occasionally work."
Argent shrugged. "It's not a scientific situation, Jeremy. Sunlight kills vampires because it is the holy radiance of the gods, not because of its spectrum. That's what I believe. What about the Eldar talismans we both wear?"
"Again, sometimes they protect and sometimes not. It's annoying that not much can really be counted on. We'll roam the area seperately and keep in touch through the Links." He glanced up at the clock on the wall behind his desk. "Most of the killings tooks place well after midnight. We've got two hours, do you feel like getting a late dinner?"
"Absolutely! Like you, I am always hungry. Let's go."
"You pick the place," Bane said. "Everyone says my tastes are too predictable."
As he headed for the office door, Sheng asked, "Have you tried Vietnamese food...?"
IV.
Eighth Avenue near 42nd Street was still a little sleazy, with adult gift shops and peep shows and a few dubious hotels that rented rooms by the hour. Most of Times Square had been cleaned up and made into glossy tourist traps, but pockets of the dark side still lingered. Nancy Sinister strolled slowly through the crowds, hands in the pockets of her Navy blue windbreaker. As she stood under a streetlight, she looked quite dramatic with lank black hair, pale skin and bright blue eyes. Lately she had started wearing black lipstick and eyeliner on the theory that she would actually be less conspicuous if people thought she was just a high school kid playing Goth.
Watching the crowds, seeing the gawking tourists and the bored natives and the bewildered foreigners trying to navigate, it was hard for her not to laugh out loud. They looked so helpless, so vulnerable. If she wanted to, she could seize that man or that woman and pin them against a store window without even feeling their struggles. She could sink her fangs in their throats and suck up the hot salty blood, and then throw them down and run away faster than any living person could catch. Nancy saw a college age boy staring at her speculatively and she gave him a wry smile. If he only knew what she was thinking...
Turning west toward Ninth Avenue, she found the crowds thinned out almost at once. Here were buildings with offices of doctors and law firms and realtors, all closed now. Here was a parking garage with a bored fat man sitting in a chair near the entrance ramp. Only two or three people were in sight at one time, and as the night got colder, fewer would be seen. She had told two of her followers to hunt here tonight, but she did not expect them to be ready to strike yet.
Nancy sensed enemies tonight. Since the vampire spell had taken hold on her, the world seemed different. She operated more and more on instinct, like a predatory animal. The wind picked up and blew her hair back, but she did not feel the chill. A middle-aged man, dressed quite well with a topcoat over a suit, smiled at her appraisingly. For a second, she thought of flirting with him, maybe luring him into an alley with a hint that sex for money was available, and then drinking his blood. No. Her followers were in this area tonight. She would not risk a possible uproar that would jeopardize their feeding. Nancy sighed and walked on. Tomorrow, she would pick some fool for her own feast.
An hour went by as she walked tirelessly up Ninth Avenue as far as 59th Street, then crossed over and started back down again. The wind chill was making passers-by scarcer, and even cars became less numerous as people started going home. Nancy felt it was a good night for hunting, just as she spotted one of her followers standing in the mouth of an alley. She halted, then stepped into a darkened doorway herself to watch him.
It was Artie. She knew him at once, that short stocky outline with the untidy mop of blonde hair. He had only been one of the Undead a short time, and had nearly gotten caught twice before Nancy had found him and taken him in. She had taught him her laws and she hoped had instilled some caution in him, but she worried his bloodlust outruled his prudence. Still, he was hard to see in the darkness of the alley and she doubted that a living person would spot him. She waited and watched critically.
Ten minutes went by. Then a man walked slowly up the street. He was just about six feet tall, thin, wearing a long black coat and thin black leather gloves. Nancy straightened and watched him with sudden interest. He was familiar. He was an enemy. In the gloom, her irises turned red and her canines sharpened and extended down half an inch longer. The living vampire held herself motionless with difficulty. She saw him approach the alley, saw Artie step forward and ask a question. God knew what obvious ploy Artie said, maybe asking for a dollar or for a light. But the stranger paused obligingly and Artie suddenly seized him by the arm and yanked him into the alley.
Suddenly alarmed beyond reason, Nancy Sinister flashed down the block into that alley, just in time to see the stranger whip out a high side kick she could barely follow. He was faster than Human, fast as a vampire himself but he was definitely one of the Breathing. Artie slammed back against the brick wall behind him and bounced back right into a savage backfist that flung him down to the alley paving. The stranger yanked a short wooden stake from under his coat somewhere and crouched on one knee as he raised it. Just as he plunged that stake into Artie's chest, Nancy pounced upon him from behind, driving him flat to the ground. She grabbed the back of his head and smashed his face to the paving as hard as she could. Again. He went limp and she jumped up, swinging around to see if any living Humans had seen her. No one was in sight. A dark SUV rolled to a stop at the corner but went on obliviously.
The living vampire bent over Artie. Nothing could be done for him. The stake was through his heart and he was now just a regular corpse. Dead, not Undead. Nancy hissed angrily and turned the stranger over. His face was bloodied from a broken nose but she recognized him. This was the man who had confronted her at Courtney's apartment only a few weeks earlier. What, was he a sort of vampire hunter or something?
Then, to her astonishment, he moaned and stirred. How could he still be alive? She had killed men with much lighter blows. Nancy drew back her fist and punched him with all her inhuman strength, and his face should have caved in but instead he just lapsed back into unconsciousness. Whatever this stranger was, he was hard to kill. She wanted to learn what his secret was. What if there were more of him? Nancy Sinister stood up and spun to walk to the corner and wait. She needed a car.
V.
For an hour, Sheng Mo-Tuan wandered through Times Square. The crowds were much smaller than usual, and people seemed in a hurry to finish whatever they were doing and head home. He could see fear in many faces. All the mysterious disappearances and discovery of bloodless bodies had had its effect. More police cars than usual rolled past, and twice he saw a pair of fit-looking young men in black suits and ties stride past, searching with their eyes. Agents of the Mandate. Sheng moved on.
Working with his captain again made the Chujiran happy. It was funny to remember how much trouble he had given Bane when they had first met, how rebellious and conceited he had been when first joining the new KDF team... he had believed for the first few months that he should be made captain because Bane was old and in the way. Well, he had changed quickly. Eight years now of living in the world beyond Chujir, working with Sable and Josef and Unicorn, fighting deadly foes and learning to trust his teammates. Much had changed.
At 50th Street, he turned west. Times Square itself was too brightly lit for the creatures of the night to be active. He headed toward Eighth Avenue, where there were fewer neon signs and floodlights, and saw only a few people rushing along the sidewalks. This was more a fit hunting ground for the Undead.
Time crawled by. Sheng kept moving, gravitating toward darkened doorways and run-down parking lots and the like. It struck him as funny that he was deliberately going into areas that most people would instinctively avoid. Once, he thought he spotted one person grappling with another between two buildings but it turned out to be just a drug deal. No concern of his. Finally, he got so impatient that he decided to see if Bane had something more interesting going on. He took his Link from its holster at the back of his belt and buzzed the one carried by his captain. Bane's Link would be set to silent vibration but he should respond. After fifteen seconds with no response, Argent frowned. He started walking faster, getting to Ninth Avenue and glaring around suspiciously. The Chujiran tried contacting his captain and still got no answer.
Sheng held up his Link in the light from a streetlamp and made some adjustments. That darn Trom Girl had been making these devices even more complicated than they already were, and sometimes he felt he had lost track of everything they could do. After a few more minutes, he got the Link so a blinking green light appeared on its screen. This was tied to the signal from Bane's Link. As Sheng started heading back toward Times Square, the green light got dimmer. As he walked south, it brightened again.
Well, even I can follow this, he thought. Jogging lightly through the night, he started heading downtown. All his instincts told him that this was going to be a showdown.
VI.
Bane almost revived, groaned and sank back into unconsciousness. Squatting near him, Nancy Sinister watched with interest. This man certainly took a lot of punishment without dying. Despite the fact he should not survive much longer, the princess of darkness had found some clothesline and tied his wrists and ankles together more tightly than was really necessary. She had lit a dozen tall white candles and placed them around the church. None of the other vampires were active at the moment, with Ruth standing watch outside. One of her kin that she had allowed to go hunting had not returned yet and she wondered if maybe this man had destroyed him.
Rising, the living vampire looked over the items she had taken from the enemy's pockets. Five pointed stakes just a little bigger than arrows, worn in a harness around the body... there was proof this Bane was a vampire hunter. A long-barreled Smith & Wesson .38 revolver, several small gadgets she could not identify. A leather wallet identified this man as Jeremy Bane, owner of the Dire Wolf Agency, whatever that was. Searching this man had been extremely uncomfortable for her. There was something about being within reach of Bane that repelled and stung her.
She could not know, but concealed in padded sheaths on his forearms were two matched silver daggers. Their blades had been ensorcelled by the Eldarin to become ensalir, a potent force against evil. Just being near those daggers troubled her.
Nancy stared down at the man and wondered what his story was. It had been a busy night for her so far. Standing on the corner on Ninth Avenue, she had smiled as a man pulled up and asked her if she needed a ride. Apparently, this was a common way to pick up streetwalkers. She had gone with him a few blocks until he had pulled into a darkened parking lot and turned to her with a leer. Nancy had plunged her fangs into his neck and drunk her fill. His blood was sour, meaning he had a bad diet. Then she had tossed his body into a dumpster, driven the car back to the alley and hauled the stranger unconscious into the back seat.
Driving back to the Sacred Heart Church, Nancy had brought him inside and told Ruth to watch him, then dumped the car a mile away and run back. She was concerned that there might be others like this man, perhaps a group of experienced vampire hunters and, if so, she needed to know all about them. Now she stood over the man and watched as he again struggled to revive.
Nancy knew nothing of Tel Shai, nothing of the tagra tea which gave its knights healing powers beyond what medical science could explain. As she waited, Bane took a deep, shuddering breath and sat up as far as he could before realizing his wrists were tied together behind his back and his ankles were tied together as well. He sank back down and took in the situation.
"Well," he said. "Nancy Gideon. You're a hard girl to get to meet."
"Nancy Gideon is dead. Or Undead. Call me Nancy Sinister. And you, Jeremy Bane? Just what exactly are you that you can fight vampires and survive head trauma that would kill a mule?"
"I'm nobody special," he answered. "Nice little place you've got here, Nancy. Don't tell me you have a vampire inside each of those coffins!"
She laughed for the first time since leaving the world of the living. "Absolutely. I think there are only three or four vampires left in Manhattan not under my control, and I'll locate them soon. Meet the new gang. You think street thugs are tough? You haven't seen anything yet, Mr Bane."
"And what do you get out of this? What's your motive?"
"Just for laughs. No, for shrieks. Just for shrieks, that's my new slogan. Listen, how many more are there like you?"
The Dire Wolf did not hesitate. "There's just me. I work alone. Vampires killed my girlfriend a long time ago, so I set out to stake every one of them I can find."
"Really?" asked Nancy. "I don't know if I believe you. Maybe some torture is called for. I can make you tell me everything."
"You can try."
"No, wait." The princess of darkness went over and smiled down at him. "My victims do not become Undead themselves. I'm a special case. But if one of my followers was to feed on you and you die... well, you know. In three nights you will rise as a vampire yourself, and then you will be mine to command."
Concealed behind his body, Bane had managed to get the fingers of his left hand to the top of one of his boots. A thickened ridge there concealed a razor blade and he carefully tugged it loose. He had been carrying gimmicks like these for decades and they had been life-saving more than once. Gingerly, trying not to gash his skin, he began to slice through the clothesline holding his ankles together.
To keep Nancy Sinister distracted, he kept talking. "I'm not the one you need to worry about, kid. Remember that spy group that took you prisoner? And you killed almost a dozen of them escaping? They're called the Mandate. They're bringing in hundreds of agents from all over the country to search every inch of this city."
Nancy stared at him in alarm, then caught herself. "They haven't done such a hot job so far. Are you up to something?"
"And then there are the vampire lords. You don't even know about them yet, do you?
Vampires who have been Undead for hundreds of years, getting more powerful, mastering abilities you don't even realize you have. The vampire lords have crushed upstarts like you many times before." Bane shifted his weight just a bit, and went on. "They're a mean bunch. You won't look your best without any skin left."
"So you say. I don't know if I believe you. Are you stalling for time, Breather?"
"Not any more," he answered as he leaped to his feet and drove a front snap kick to her chin that smacked her jaw shut and flung her back off her feet. Bane tossed the razor blade aside; carrying them in his boots had been suggested to him by Michael Hawk, who wore clothes packed with concealed gimmicks, and the trick had gotten him free a dozen times. The Dire Wolf crossed his arms and straightened them out with a slim black-handled dagger in each hand. The ensalir blades gleamed coldly in the hellish atmosphere of that desecrated church.
Scrambling to her feet, the princess of darkness screamed in a hollow voice, "All of you, arise! Kill the living man, I command you!" All around her, coffin lids rose and the Undead slowly sat up. She broke into malicious laughter.
Then the door to the church slammed inward with a bang, despite the fact it had been nailed shut. Lowering his leg from that kick, Sheng Mo-Yuan stepped through, a magnesium road flare in each hand and a fierce grin on his face. "Here I am, captain!"
"Never more glad to see you, Sheng. Let's clean this hellhole up."
VII.
The next three minutes were a haze of deadly motion. Argent ignited the flares and tossed them to the floor, their intense sputtering ends filled the church with intolerable bright light. The two Tel Shai knights went on the attack. Bane whirled through the Undead as they rose from their caskets, swinging his arms in precise windmill strokes that slashed the silver daggers deeply across the creatures. Those blades had broken stronger spells than vampirism. As their edges sliced across chests and throats, the Undead froze into position and fell where they were, truly dead at last. The Dire Wolf was not still an instant. Every vampire that tried to seize him found razor-sharp silver cutting deeply into his cold flesh. The white glare from the flares sparking on the floor made them dazed and slow to react.
Argent had focussed his attributes into speed. At his best, he was nearly as quick as Bane and his Kumundu training made him a whirlwind of arms and legs whipping out to strike the vampires away. He drove stakes into the chests of the first two who attacked him, yanked out two more stakes from the harness around his torso and nailed two more of the creatures before he was tackled from behind. In another split-second, he would have been bitten by fangs more dangerous than those of any snake but Argent reacted by shifting his attribute into invulnerability. His flesh abruptly was impervious as steel and the baffled vampire could not pierce his skin. Sheng reached back to seize the Undead, yank him off his back and smash him down viciously to the floor. One more stake thumped home into an unbeating heart and Argent jumped up to get back into the fight.
Three minutes had passed. Jeremy Bane lowered his arms as he saw no more of the creatures to handle. Argent let out a deep breath and said, "That was...quite the experience, captain."
The Dire Wolf glanced at his daggers. Their blades were free of blood, as clean as if he had never drawn them. Then he realized. "Their leader. Nancy Sinister. Have you seen her?"
"No. I was a little busy, captain." Argent looked around. "I know I didn't fight her."
With infinite disgust, Bane sheathed his weapons. "She ran like a rabbit. I have no respect for leaders who abandon their troops to save their own skins. Now we're back where we started. The hunt will just have to start all over again."
"Captain, think for a second. This has not been a wasted night. Look around you."
Bane gave one of his rare, barely perceptible smiles. "Hah! You're right, Sheng. Twenty-two vampires destroyed. Nancy said she had gathered almost every vampire in New York City here tonight. And we wiped them out."
"We should thank her for getting them together in one convenient spot," Sheng laughed. "I think she did us a favor!"
7/11/2014
