The Greyfriar (Vampire Empire, Book 1) by Clay & Susan Griffith;Clay Griffith;Susan Griffith (17 page)

Nodding, Major Stoddard shoved his hand in his rucksack, and a
shudder went through the ranks as he pulled out two canisters. Blood
grenades. They dispensed smoke with the scent of blood. Unlike shroud
gas, blood grenades were designed to play into the vampires' animalistic
craving. Normally the grenades were used to distract and divert vampires away from humans, but this time Clark intended to goad the creatures into a fighting rage. The smoke from two blood grenades should
drive the vampires mad with hunger. Major Stoddard checked the light
wind, twisted the top of one canister, and heaved it toward the orchard.
The canister flew a strong seventy-five yards, hit, and rolled. There was
a loud pop, and reddish smoke boiled over the grass. Stoddard hurled
the second canister a bit wide of the first, then quickly took up his rifle
as more smoke poured aloft.

Hissing strengthened from the orchard, proving that the vampires
were getting a massive whiff. Dark shapes coursed frantically onto tree
trunks and bounded from limb to limb. Some scuttled like lizards into
the unkempt canopy and rustled through the green. The hissing
changed to weird sounds like growling cats that came from deep within
inhuman throats.

Then they came. First one, then more. They streaked unbelievably
fast into the open, running and leaping, landing and crouching in the
high grass, then up again. They never stopped moving, like a wave of
locusts.

"Steady, boys," Clark said, and Winchester barrels rose.

His men waited as the creatures loped toward them. It seemed like
hours watching the growling figures scramble through the sun-dappled
meadow, but it was mere seconds. Several vampires bounded high off the
ground, spread their arms, and caught the air.

"Fire!" Clark bellowed.

The front rank opened up at ground level with their carbines. The
second rank raised muzzles in practiced style and blasted vampires from
the air. The Americans' chemical-fueled cartridges threw off a greenish
smoke. The commandos worked their lever-action rifles, keeping up a murderous roar. The vampires fell. Some rose, only to be hit again. And
again.

The air was choked with smoke as several of the tattered and bloody
beasts reached the square. They flailed with their clawlike nails, but only
against bayonets. The Rangers thrust and slashed, tearing through the
vampires' bodies. The creatures collapsed when muscles, tendons, and
organs were destroyed. They dropped to the ground writhing and spitting.

One vampire dropped inside the square and seized a trooper. Before
the man could shout, his head was nearly torn from his shoulders. The
vampire lashed out, and a second soldier dropped with savage wounds to
his side.

Clark whirled with his saber merely a blur of light and slashed deep
into the thing's face. The monster showed little pain as Clark wrenched
the sword free. Clark then fired his long-barreled Colt revolver,
punching a hole in the vampire's left cheek and staggering him. A
second well-aimed blow with the searing sword severed the vampire's
head, and he fell lifeless to the grass.

Rifle shots were tapering off. The Rangers stood with guns poised,
watching for shapes moving in the mist. Slowly, the light wind shoved
the emerald smoke away to reveal the field. Wounded vampires wriggled
hissing in the grass. Some dragged themselves forward despite horrendous wounds. They wouldn't stop until they were destroyed.

The field medic reported six Rangers down. Two dead. Two more
soon would be. Clark hefted his saber, reveling in its constant sizzle. He
would make the vampires pay for every one of his men lost.

The female vampire thrashed against the chains. She rolled on the cobblestones and fought the heavy irons binding her ragged arms and legs.

"This is the clan chief?" Clark muttered as he glared from under an
upraised eyebrow at the ragged thing at his feet. It had been a decidedly
quick fight against such primitives. It was akin to cleaning rats from a
cellar.

Captain Eskandari nodded. Around the Persian officer, his marines leaned on their long, bloody pikes, watching the thing struggle. "War
chief. These Bordeaux vampires are nothing. Throwbacks almost."

The American sneered and stamped his boot on the female's chest.
He lowered a torch close to her face. "All right. Talk. Where is Princess
Adele of Equatoria?"

The vampire gnashed her teeth.

Clark tossed the torch to Major Stoddard and snatched a pike from
one of the Persian marines. He lowered the wicked blade against the
vampire's throat. "I know you understand me! No clan mounts an action
so large as the one that took the princess without all you animals being
aware. Where is Princess Adele? Tell me or I'll take your head!"

The creature eyed the pike. Her voice came out as a gargle.
"Dmitri."

Captain Eskandari whispered to a fellow marine, "King Dmitri, lord
of London. His son is Cesare. The Slaughterer."

Senator Clark could hear fear in Eskandari's voice that chilled him.
The American pushed the blade against the vampire's throat, slicing
skin and drawing thin watery blood. "I am Senator Clark from the
American Republic. You are the last of your clan. I have killed every
other vampire in Bordeaux. The only reason you're still alive is that I
want you to deliver a message to old Dmitri. Tell it that it has five days
to release Princess Adele alive and well. If it fails to do so, I will come
to Britain and kill every vampire there." Clark tossed the pike back and
stepped off the vampire's torso. "Release it."

The Persians and a few Americans aimed their weapons at the female
as two wary marines unsnapped the lock and scrambled away. The vampire flailed free of the chains and crouched in the middle of the soldiers.
Clark refused to cower, but did place his hand on the butt of his pistol.
In the silence, he could hear the last of the creature's wounded brethren
being put to death in the night. The vampire glared around her and then
seemed to disappear, trailed briefly by the sound of her moving off
through the rubble-strewn streets. The soldiers all sighed with relief,
knowing that she certainly could've killed several of them before the
other troopers could have stopped her. But apparently even vampires
wanted to live.

"Senator," Major Stoddard asked, "do you think it will really take
your message to Britain?"

"Doesn't matter." Clark strode down the ash-strewn cobblestones. "I
delivered my message here in Bordeaux. Those things in Britain will
hear about it." He stepped past scorched bodies, both vampire and
human. He kicked his way through a pile of vampire heads. Some of
them were from children. "They'll know I've been here, and they'll
know I will not be trifled with."

ESARE SAW CONFUS10N descending across his father's face
again, and it was all the young prince could do not to groan
aloud with annoyance. He leaned forward in his chair next to King
Dmitri's tarnished throne and regarded the ragged war chief from Bordeaux with uncommitted boredom.

King Dmitri's chin quivered as spittle drizzled onto his wispy
beard. "Is she right? Is she here?"

Cesare understood his father to refer to Princess Adele. "Yes. I have
her." He indicated the Bordeaux visitor. "She is correct in that matter."

A murmur of alarm spread through the clan council as Cesare
adopted a look of amused disregard, making it clear he felt there was no
cause for dismay and that he was firmly in charge of the situation. He
raised a lazy hand to quiet the elders. "Please. I have had her for several
weeks now."

The king went wide-eyed. "What? I did not know."

"No, Sire. I am your right hand. There is no need for you to concern
yourself with minor matters."

"Minor?" shouted the bearded Lord Ghast of Cornwall. "Didn't you
think the humans would fight to get her back? What have you done,
Cesare?"

Prince Cesare said in a steady voice, "Are you afraid of the Equatorians, Lord Ghast?"

The elder snarled. "You have no right to start a war!"

The old king began to fidget uncomfortably. He rolled his hands
together, his cracked and yellow claws permanently extended due to age.

Cesare replied, "Isn't it better that they fight our war rather than us
fighting theirs?"

"Our war?" Ghast protested. "How is this our war? Bordeaux has
been destroyed because of your actions, and the first we hear of it is from
this pathetic trash dragging herself into our presence! This is how the
elders hear of Cesare's war? There has been no clan gathering!"

Cesare grinned. "Oh, my war has not yet started. Don't trouble
yourself about that clump of degenerates in Bordeaux. My seizure of
Princess Adele has sapped the Equatorian initiative. Now we can fight
them when we are ready. I don't have to explain my plan. And frankly
I'm concerned that you have the temerity to question me here in my
father's chamber." He rose menacingly.

The Lord of Cornwall paused. He gave the prince a curt nod and sat.
The other elders were pleased enough by the spectacle of Cesare handily
folding the haughty Lord Ghast into the calming embrace of clan hierarchy that they forgave the prince's high-handedness.

King Dmitri, completely out of the flow, muttered, "Are we at war?"

Cesare made a show of considering the king's comment as if it meant
something and replied, "Not yet, Your Majesty. That is why I have done
what I've done. You recall that I told you Equatoria and America were
gathering their forces, awaiting the alliance of those two people?"

The elders again broke into dismayed murmuring. This was the first
they had heard of these actions by the human kingdoms. The king's
brow furrowed with dismay. He did not remember it either. Of course,
the king could no longer be sure what he'd been told or not. Cesare
knew this, and that's why the prince never told his father anything. Still,
the aged king preserved some semblance of control by nodding his head
as if recalling a conversation.

"Should we call the clan?" The king rubbed his wispy chin. "The
attack on Bordeaux ..."

"Is nothing." Cesare pointed toward the filthy female war chief from
the Continent. "Look at her. The humans obliterated Bordeaux with
three ships and a few men. In fact, if we act boldly, the attack on Bordeaux gives us the chance to move this game even more in our favor. We
can bring other clans into our fold." The vampire prince stretched out
his long fingers and closed them into a fist. "Then we can strike the
humans at our convenience. But only because I had the foresight to take
Princess Adele into my power. One day, my actions will be remembered
as the turning point of our clan, and our kind."