Shot Through The Heart (Supernature Book 1) (30 page)

Ruthven turned and started towards Mark, grinning. He took a step back, towards the wall. He lurched forward and swung the machete at her. She deflected it high then lurched forward, scratching his hand with one of her talons, cutting deep. He dropped the blade. He jumped backwards, trying to put distance between them. His shoulder collided with the wall and he tripped, tumbling to his knees.

Ruthven approached, brushing her hair back with her hand.

Mark fumbled in his pocket for the garlic. He got one of the bulbs out and threw it at her.

She hissed at him but started to back off.
 

Mark knelt and retrieved the garlic. His fingers fumbled as he separate a clove, removed the skin and crushed it. He rubbed it all over himself.

Ruthven stepped away, back towards Séan's body.

Mark kept his distance. Without Séan, he was out of ideas.

She crouched, licking at the bloody pool in front of his body, trying to regain her strength.

Mark stood there, paralysed. As far as he could tell, he had two options. Run or attack her.

Ruthven kept her eyes on him as she drank the blood from the floor like a feral animal.

She coughed, then grinned at him. "This is good blood," she said. "I wonder how yours will taste. Of course, I've saved that pleasure until now. Always keep the best until the end. I do hope that your blood will be sweet, a nice dessert to this main course."

Mark had to fight the urge to run. He steadied his breathing and strode forward into the room.

"What do you think you're going to achieve?" asked Ruthven, looking him up and down. "You should know by now, you can't kill me."

Mark saw that the crossbow had fallen by the door. He reached down and picked it up. It was still loaded with a bolt, he pointed it at her. "I want you to get out of here," he said. "Get out of my room."

She stopped drinking and laughed at him. "You have no power over me any longer," she said, standing up to her full height.

Mark aimed and fired, piercing her heart.

"Shot through the heart," she said. "You'll find that mine is a bit stronger than the others. The years have hardened the valves, you know. I'm invincible."

She slowly moved around, placing herself between Mark and the door.

Mark saw that he was trapped. His last weapons were used up - the crossbow had been useless, and the garlic didn't seem to have had much effect.

"I used to live in Edinburgh," said Ruthven. "Did I tell you that? I must have. I really must visit again. I might drop in on your wife and child."

Mark swallowed. She'd dragged Sarah and Beth into this madness. "I'm not married," he said.

"Yes, you are," said Ruthven. "You took me for a fool, leading me on like that. You may have acted like a single man, but you weren't. I did my research on you." She advanced towards him. "You fell into my honeytrap. Now I'm free to reclaim my world."

Mark slipped the knife out of his pocket. He stepped forward and swung the blade through the air, slicing into her chin. Blood sprayed out of the wound.

Ruthven caught the blood and licked her finger. "I can regenerate you know," she said. "The amount of blood I've drunk from your friend there, Lord Protector of the Highlands and Islands or whatever he styles himself as these days, that'll be enough to get me back to my-"

She coughed violently and sank to her knees, mouth hanging open. "What is happening?" she asked.

Mark had no idea. "Nothing to do with me," he said, holding his hands up.

She screamed, crawling along the floor, before climbing into one of the coffins. She pulled the lid down.

Mark collapsed against the wall. He was safe, for now. He tried to catch his breath again, realising he'd wet himself.

How had he been saved? He had been a goner for sure. He went over to Séan's corpse, surrounded by a pool of blood.

Séan open his eyes. "That worked," he said.

Mark's heart thudded. "You-"

Séan sat up. "Which one is she in?" he asked.

"You were dead," said Mark. "She cut you open!"

"It was just a nick," said Séan.

Mark pointed to the pool of blood. "That doesn't come from just a nick," he said.

"I had a couple of blood packs with me," said Séan. "HIV positive blood."

"That's what she drank?" asked Mark.

Séan nodded. "Vampires metabolise the blood very quickly," he said. "Doesn't matter what the blood type is, they can absorb it. Helps them regenerate. Her body metabolised about three pints of HIV positive blood."

Mark swallowed. "What will happen to her?" he asked.

"Nothing much," said Séan. "Her blood will kill the virus in about an hour." He gave a deep sigh. "That's where they got the retroviral treatment from."

Mark rolled his eyes. "Are you telling me that HIV drugs are vampire technology?" he asked.

"I'm saying no more," said Séan, getting to his feet. "I'll ask you again, which one is she in?"

Mark pointed to the casket Ruthven had crawled into. Séan looked in the others first, all empty. He detached the rope from his gilet. He tied it around the coffin, securing it with a knot Mark had never seen before.

"What are we going to do?" asked Mark.

"We're taking it to her castle and dumping it in the crypt," said Séan. "Then we're putting a cairn on top of it and setting fire to the place. Nobody is opening that coffin again."

"What's that noise?" asked Mark.

Séan was driving the van, almost at Ruthven castle. Mark watched Séan take his eye off the road for a few seconds to listen before he made eye contact. "It's Ruthven," he said. "She's screaming. She can't get out of the coffin."

Mark shivered - the sound went right through him. "The sooner we get this over with," he said, "the better."

"We're not out of the woods yet," said Séan. "By my reckoning, there's still two or maybe three of those students on the loose."

They pulled in outside the castle. Mark looked round at Buffy, eyes staring into space. He was as good as useless, sitting in the back in a daze, drugged to the eyeballs. "Is he going to be okay?" he asked.

Séan nodded. "He's out of it," he said. "I gave him a light sedative."

"Doesn't seem that light," said Mark.

"He'll be like that for a few hours," said Séan, "it's definitely for the best."

"So long as that's all it is," said Mark.

"Don't you trust me?" asked Séan.

Mark laughed, finding it easier than expressing his true feelings. "I don't know what I believe any more," he said.

Séan killed the engine and they got out. They opened the back. The coffin was rocking from side to side.

"She's really angry," said Séan. "I do not want to let her out."

"Me neither," said Mark.

Séan hopped up into the van and put his weapons on his back - the crossbow, a few spare bolts and a machete. He put a small sledgehammer on a rope around his neck - Mark had no idea what it was for. "You ready?" he asked.

Mark nodded. "Go," he said.

He grabbed hold of the corners as Séan slowly pushed the coffin out.

"Steady!" shouted Mark. The coffin was just about out of the van. Séan wasn't listening. Mark's fingers started to burn. "Slow down!"

"It's not me!" shouted Séan.

Séan jumped down and took hold of the leading edge.

"What now?" asked Mark.

"Put it down," said Séan.

Mark took a deep breath then nodded. "Okay," he said.

Séan pulled the coffin back from the edge of the door and slowly put it down. The coffin started rocking back and forth. "Sit on it!" shouted Séan.

Mark complied, putting his full weight down. Even so the coffin banked almost forty-five degrees to either side.

Séan slammed the boot shut. "Don't want anyone getting at Buffy while he's in that state," he said. The van beeped as the doors locked. "Right, after three. One, two, three."

They took the full weight of the coffin between them and staggered towards the castle, bent double. The waterline was still low, but the ford was submerged. Mark gritted his teeth as they splashed across the gap, struggling to compensate as Séan stumbled. The coffin rocked violently.

"Is this going to kill her?" shouted Mark over the noise of their footsteps.

"No," called Séan. "It does terrible things to their blood, though."
 

Séan tripped, almost bringing the coffin down on Mark's leg. They stopped, holding the coffin above the water.

"Put it down!" shouted Mark.

Séan shook his head. "We have to keep going," he said. He stepped forward slowly, as though wading through treacle. Gradually, they made it to the other side. Mark was worried about Séan, who was looking pale again.
 

"This will be fun," said Mark, eyeing the steps that led up to the castle.

Séan turned so his back faced into the steps. The coffin had a sudden spasm, almost causing Mark to drop it.

"Slowly does it," said Séan, putting a foot on the first step, followed by another. Gradually, they managed to carry the bucking coffin up.

At the top, Séan fumbled the coffin. It tumbled down, crashing off the steps. It landed on Mark, winding him, before careering towards the water's edge.

Mark looked up to see a leg appear at the top of the steps. The remaining Lost Boy - the fiddler. His left hand had regrown slightly, deformed talons emerging from the stump.

Two Lost Girls jumped down either side of the fiddler, landing next to the coffin. Mark scrambled over, relieved to see that it was still intact. The rope had held strong, though the wood was starting to splinter. He looked around but couldn't see Séan.

The Lost Girls were approaching. He tried to reach for either of his weapons - the machete or the knife - but his arms wouldn't respond. The Lost Girls knelt in front of him.

One of them placed her talons against his throat. "Time for you to pay," she said.

A crossbow bolt cut through her from behind, piercing her heart.

A machete tore through the air, separating her head from her body.

The other Lost Girl and the Lost Boy screamed, making goosebumps rise up Mark's arms. Séan pushed the headless corpse away and fired at the Lost Boy, spearing him in the chest. A second bolt was a direct hit.

The Lost Girl grabbed Mark, pulling him to his feet and pushing him in front of her. Mark could only comply - her strength was incredible.

"I will kill him," she whispered into his ear. "Let me leave with my Queen and we'll both live."

"Neither of you will live another day," said Séan, aiming the crossbow at Mark. "I'm sorry, Mark, but there will be some collateral damage here."

"What?" asked Mark. "You can't just kill me!"

"Sorry," said Séan. His finger hovered over the trigger.

Mark dropped to the floor.

The crossbow bolt fired into the Lost Girl's heart.

Blood splattered over Mark's head as Séan stepped forward and sliced her head clean off with the machete.

Séan knelt and took a deep breath. "Where's the other one?" he shouted.

Mark couldn't respond - Séan had been going to shoot through him.

"Where is the other one?" asked Séan, his voice hoarse.

"Over there," said Mark, pointing at the water.

The Lost Boy lay prone on the bank, the loch lapping his shins.

"Time for an experiment," said Séan. He grabbed the Lost Boy's feet, pulling him into the loch. Mark groaned as he propped himself up on an elbow, watching Séan hold the Lost Boy's head under the water.

After a while, the struggling abated. Eventually, Séan nodded, then pulled the body back to shore towards the castle.

"Okay, so drowning actually works," said Séan. He stumbled forward and fell full length against the flagstones at the foot of the steps.

Mark rushed over to help him. "Are you okay?" he asked.

Séan looked dead. "I'm okay," he said, eventually. He slowly sat up, each breath a visible exertion.

"Were you going to shoot through me?" asked Mark.

Séan nodded. "If it came to it," he said. "I wanted to frighten you into making a decision. You shouldn't have let her take you."

"I didn't have much choice," said Mark.

Just then, he could have killed Séan. He was the amateur here - Séan was trained for this, whereas he was relying on adrenaline and blind luck. He shook his head and crept back towards Ruthven's box.

He turned back to Séan, lying on his back and gasping for breath. "Help me with this," he said.

Séan rolled over and got up. Mark climbed slowly to the top of the steps, on the lookout for vampires. It was clear. Returning to the bottom of the steps, he helped Séan grab an end. Gradually, they dragged the coffin to the top and laid it down on the flagstones.

Séan looked a lot worse, his skin paler than ever. "Are you okay?" he asked.

"Just need to get this over with," said Séan.

Breathing hard, they steeled themselves for one last push. They picked the coffin up, fingers burning, and lugged it over the flagstones towards the entrance to the castle, the coffin feeling heavier with every step.

Mark kicked the front door open. They retraced their steps back, constantly scanning for hidden vampires. Mark's fingers felt seared as they laid the coffin down outside the door to the staircase.

They stopped for a rest. Séan handed Mark a bottle of mineral water, a brand he'd never heard of, while drinking from an aluminium bottle.

"We'll be vulnerable when we carry her down there," said Mark. "We've got nobody to guard the door."

"She's the last one," said Séan. "We should be fine." He laughed. "Besides, Alan wasn't much use before, was he?"

Mark nodded. "You've got a point." He finished the water. "You ready?"
 

Séan nodded as he pocketed his bottle. "You go down first."

Mark felt a surge of fear. The only danger they faced now was the rocking coffin they carried. He took a deep breath, psyching himself for the final stage. Pacing over, he opened the door, before returning and taking the head of the coffin. He clamped his mouth around the torch, forcing him to breathe through his nostrils.