No Shelter from Darkness (29 page)

“What's going on, Quince?” asked Bill. No Shadow Minister outranked another, but there was a certain unspoken hierarchy of which Bill was near the top, despite his so-called retired status. As such, even though Quince was the kind of guy who thought he knew it all but rarely did, his respect for Bill was clear and his top-dog persona was mostly dormant.

“You still looking for leeches with funny marks?” asked the cocky hunter.

“Their language, yes,” said Bill.

“I ain't too sure it's any language, if you ask me. Don't see how they could come up with something like that. But weird squiggles and lines? Branded into the skin?”

“Yes?” Bill prompted.

Quince pulled on the cord and the blinds whizzed back to the wall. Chained to a bulky steel frame in the middle of the cell was a thing stripped naked. It was facing away from the window. Thick shackles around its ankles and wrists were chained to the far reaches of the room, stretching the creature into a star. Quince had already been having some fun; the creature's body was battered and bruised, and though the blood had long stopped flowing due to its near-instant clotting ability, there had been no lack of trying to bleed the thing to death.

It wasn't the recent injuries that concerned Bill. It was the old ones: a line of scars ran down the creature's spine, six in total and each an equal distance from the next. The highest was on the back of its neck, while the lowest lay at the base of its spine. Each scar was a composition of lines; some straight, some curved, but all within the
rough shape of an inverted triangle. Some looked symmetrical, others not so much, but Bill agreed with the Ministry Scholars that they looked like symbols. Rudimentary hieroglyphs. He'd seen this kind of scarring before. Given a piece of paper, an ink well and a pen, he was sure he'd be able to draw the symbols from memory.

They were identical to those on his adopted daughter.

Bill commanded Quince to stay put while he entered the cell-like room, closing the door behind him. He walked around to the front of the bloodied creature that was covered in red gashes. Bill knew how tough their skin was and thus how much effort had been taken to inflict this kind of damage. But the creature was still conscious.

“What are those scars on your back?” he quietly demanded.

The vampire, its hair damp with sweat, lifted its head and looked from under its brow at Bill. Even chained up, it looked dangerous and able to kill with a stare. “Why?” it rasped.

Bill was never prepared for their voice sounding so human. “Because you're going to die, but how painfully is up to you.”

“Mister … ?” it prompted, mocking their Minister codenames.

Bill didn't answer.

“Well, Mister Whoever-you-are, tell me why you want to know, and I'll consider telling you what they are.”

Bill smiled. He'd hoped the son-of-a-bitch-from-hell wouldn't play nice, and he stepped over to the far wall. Liberating a rusty pair of pliers from its hook, he hung his long coat in their place.

“Ah,” said the bloodied creature. “The old pulling-the-tooth-and-nothing-but-the-tooth trick, hey?”

“No,” said Bill. “Not that trick. I recently thought of a new one. You see, I've noticed how you leeches like to keep your nails nice and filed. A bit effeminate if you ask me.” Bill came close to the vampire and reached up, grabbing its hand. They were known to grow their thick nails and then file them down to sharp points, to be used as vicious weapons. With the pliers Bill gripped the nail on the vampire's index finger. “You see? They're so easy to get a hold of when you let them grow so long.”

Bill paused, waiting for the creature to betray his fear, and then tugged down with all his might. The vampire howled in pain as its finger broke under Bill's weight and then its nail squelched away
from the flesh. It was rooted in deep and Bill had to oscillate the tugging, almost bouncing, until finally it came out with a squirt of blood that tarnished the floor. Within minutes it would be nothing more than flecks of soot and faint scorch marks. Cleaning up after these torture sessions was a breeze.

The end of the leech's finger dangled and dripped blood for a few seconds before it clotted. Bill inspected the nail he'd just pulled out. Stepping back from the vampire, he held it in the pliers before its eyes. It was breathing heavily and quickly, panting like a dog. Bill threw the inch-long nail to the floor. It, too, would become a dark, brittle ash—eventually. Along with hair, teeth and bones, nails were the most stubborn part of a vampire to decompose.

“Now that's what I call a nail,” said Bill. “And just think, you've got another nine for me to play with.”

The creature said nothing, hanging silently with its deathly stare.

“Okay then,” said Bill with a smile. He stepped up to the other side of the vampire and grabbed the other hand, this time separating out its small finger. After a pause to allow the leech to speak passed silently, Bill tensed and put his weight into it. The vampire's finger cracked and broke, it roared and another bloody nail was thrown to the floor.

After two more fingernails and a thumbnail, Bill was beginning to sweat. He ploughed on and gripped the other thumbnail. The last one took a lot of work to pull out, and more work equaled more pain. He got ready to pull.

“Did you take her?” it asked breathlessly.

Bill paused, released the thumbnail and stepped back. “What did you say?”

“You have her, don't you?” The creature, looking exhausted and close to death, actually smiled at its deduction. Its teeth were red with it's own blood, flowing freely due to its saliva.

“Who?”

“You know who, or you wouldn't be asking about the scars. The symbols.”

Bill took another step back and looked past the vampire at Quince through the window. In the observation area he wouldn't be able to hear anything, but he had been watching with pleasure. Bill returned his attention to the leech. “What do they mean?”

“Is she here? In London?” The leech was smug. Too smug.

“What do they mean?” Bill shouted.

“How would I know?” The leech spoke softly in breathless rasps.

“It's your language!”

“Is it?”

Bill paused. “Why do you have them?”

“You can't brand a traitor,” it said cryptically.

“What?”

“Over time we'd heal from any torture, so if we're naughty we're just banished or killed. That's not control, though. It's a simple punishment, not a threat. So instead our children are branded for our mistakes. My father decided my fate before I was even born, and I've been redeeming myself ever since.”

Bill looked at the vampire in shock at what must surely be lies. “By
children
, you mean the ones you turn?”

“Do I?”

Bill looked at Quince and saw his smile had gone; he was beginning to suspect something. Bill focused on something the leech had just said. “Redemption?”

The bloodied and battered leech smiled back at him and began to laugh. This creature was in the midst of its redemption.

Bill burst back into the observation room slamming the door behind him. “Where the hell did you get it?”

Quince backed off at Bill's fury. “What?”

“No ‘what' Quince; where the
hell
did you find this thing?”

“I-I was on a hunt last night. I spotted it jumping from a roof and shadowed it into an empty park. I snared it using a blood bomb.”

“How did you know about the marks?”

“What?”

Bill flinched at Quince who twitched in defense. “H-he wasn't wearing a shirt or anything. I was about to spike the bastard when it rolled over.”

Bill hung his head in his hand, shaking it as he turned his back on Quince, but continued talking like he would to a naughty child. “It didn't strike you as a little odd that a vampire on a hunt would needlessly draw attention to itself by running around
naked
?”

“It's a leech,” Quince shrugged.

The vampire was laughing so hard now that Bill could just about hear it through the thickened glass. The creature looked skyward.

“Get your bow!” Bill shouted before leaping out through the door into the expanse of the warehouse. “Cedar!” he called. He was about to run over to the entrance corridor when its inner door exploded into a mass of splintered wood. Amongst it flew Cedar's lifeless body, landing on the floor in a shower of splinters. Bill wasted no time retreating to Room 1 where Quince had retrieved an Assault Crossbow from beneath the bench.

“Mine?” Bill asked. Quince looked ashamed as he threw his crossbow to Bill before fumbling under the bench for another of the Ministry-made weapons. Bill pointed to the cell. “Get in there, close the door and watch the roof. If anything, and I mean
anything
breaches that room, the first thing to die is that chained-up leech. Got it?”

Quince nodded and rushed through the door. Bill could only hope some of the man's top-dog wits had returned to him. Bill took a quiet breath and stepped quietly back out into the open space. Made from hardwood and steel, the Ministry's unique crossbows were an unwittingly elegant weapon. With his right hand on the grip and index finger on the trigger, Bill's left hand gripped the fore stock, which he slowly pulled back as someone would a shotgun. The wire along the top of the stock was pulled, bending the two ends of the prod toward him to create the tension. The small catch in the middle of the string that acted as a hammer clicked into place just behind the back of the nine-inch aluminum bolt.

Quietly and cautiously, Bill approached Cedar's lifeless body and checked for a pulse on the off chance. He was already missing half his throat and his clothes were ripped to bloody shreds. Even for a leech, it had been a brutal but accurate attack. Both Cedar's knife and revolver crossbow were still holstered.
He didn't even have time to draw
, thought Bill.

He waited silently. The draft coming down the corridor prevented his scent from going upwind. If the attackers were waiting for him outside they'd be relying on sound alone. Bill stood motionless, expecting them to make the first move. He waited one minute … two … then silently crept over to what was now just a doorframe. He peered round and the corridor was empty. He spun on the spot
and aimed toward the central structure, but saw nothing. In his gut he felt something was wrong and, deciding that his cause was greater than a war that hadn't yet started, flicked the metal switches and flooded the warehouse with light.

A leech hung from a central rafter twenty feet or so above the top of the torture rooms. Their ceilings were the weak spots. The vampire looked at Bill with startled eyes … he'd already lined the shot up. He squeezed the trigger and with a metallic twang of the wire, the spike whistled toward the invader.

The vampire dropped.

The spike clanged against the iron rafter, echoing around the warehouse.

With an almighty crash the vampire landed on and fell through the ceiling of Room 2. Medical instruments clattered to the floor. Bill had no time to concern himself with the fallen vampire as movement from above demanded his attention. Like a circus acrobat, another revenant—this one a female—fell through the new square hole in the roof, caught the rafter and swung forward. It let go near the top of its arc and fell gracefully down the thirty feet or so to the ground. It landed in a crouch halfway between the rooms and where Bill stood. Rising on its feet, the vampire bared its fangs and held its hands out to the side like claws. It, too, had long, sharpened nails and it darted toward him. Bill stepped back, performing his reloading ritual in the blink of an eye.

Fore-stock forward, next spike loaded, wire re-cocked, hammer in place.

A squeeze of the trigger projected the spike forward.

There was no time for the spike to whistle. At point blank range Bill was unable to miss and the spike sunk into the chest of the revenant with a muffled
thup
. It fell forward; its momentum bringing it barging into Bill with jaws snapping. Bill managed to get his arm up in time to stop the leech from tearing into his throat, but the force with which it came brought him down to the ground. As he landed on the floor strewn with wooden debris, the heavy body of the slight female vampire pressed down on him. The spike in its chest stuck out a few inches and the blunt base of it dug into Bill's breast, forcing it deeper into the vampire's heart. It screamed in agony. With its last few seconds of life the vampire snapped with its teeth once more as
Bill rolled to the side. It got a lucky swipe in with its hand and sharp nails scratched him across the face before it collapsed onto its back, stared up at the roof and gasped its last breath.

Bill barely had the time to take a relieving breath before the sound of the thick observation window being smashed came from Room 2. He hoisted himself up to his feet and hurried across the open space, pressing himself against the outside wall. Reloading the crossbow, the third of five spikes was ready to be shot.

Adrenaline and anxiety surged through Bill. He'd been waiting for no more than a minute for the vampire in Room 2 to make a move, but it felt like forever. With his heart beating so loudly, he was afraid of missing a vital sound from within the brick structure. He quickly went through the inventory of the room, trying to think what the vampire might use for a weapon. There were assault crossbows under the bench, but unless it knew they were there they wouldn't be found anytime soon. Bill wouldn't allow it enough time to search the room.

He sidestepped along the wall and to the other side of the door, close to the handle. His plan was simple: open the door, charge and sink a spike into the revenant's chest.

Bill touched the metal door handle with his fingertips and under his breath counted.
One …

Two …

The door swung open violently, surprising Bill and spinning him away from the wall. His poised hand was hit with unimaginable force, and was likely broken. The leech growled and knocked the crossbow out of Bill's other hand. The weapon clattered and slid along the floor. With his throbbing, wounded hand, Bill grabbed the hilt of his knife and pulled it from its sheath. The vampire gripped him by his lapel with one hand, and before Bill could flick the knife around in his hand and thrust upward, he was hit hard on the jaw by a stone-like fist. For the briefest of moments Bill was in flight before he skidded along the floor. Bill managed to flip onto his back in time to see the revenant striding toward him. Bill firmly held his knife under the flap of his coat. The leech raised its claw-like hand.