The Blood Order (Fanghunters Book Two) (19 page)

Redhead just carried on chewing, his stare fixed on the movie as if he couldn't feel or hear anything. He stuffed more fries into his mouth and chewed. Dom frowned.
What's up with this guy?

He looked from Redhead to the screen. The Wolf Man was chasing the fat man through an old castle.

Dom took a step forward, moving parallel, then ahead of Redhead, the dart gun still aimed at his head. Now from the front, Redhead's bulging eyes were on view; they were glued to the screen. The guy wasn't even blinking. Dom glanced from him to the screen, then back to him again. He was continuously stuffing food into his mouth and chewing, those unblinking, bloodshot, wide alert eyes never leaving the screen.

Dom shivered.
Seriously, what's up with this guy?

Redhead stuffed more fries into his mouth and chewed, swallowing soon after. He picked up his burger, completely oblivious to Dom and the gun pointing at his head as if they were apparitions. He put the burger up to his ketchup-smeared mouth, then stopped.

He pointed at the screen with his burger. "This is the best bit," he said without taking his eyes off the screen.

Dom frowned. He scanned the screen with frantic eyes, a sudden dread overcoming him. Something wasn't right. Something was up, this was a--

A loud crash from behind made him a whirl
.

A bunch of jackbooted thugs inexplicably stormed into the theater, their boots stomping along the carpet. Dom set eyes on their balaclava-clad faces, and then the mean looking tools in their hands. He gasped.

The thugs came to a halt, aimed their guns, and let rip.

Dom's heart lurched.
OH SH--

He dived amongst the seats in an explosion of panic. A peal of canned laughter rang out around the theater. The torrent of gunfire drowned it out. Dom hit the damp carpet and instinctively covered his head with his hands. Dust and flecks of wood showered him in an instant. There was a disgusting juddering noise from somewhere above. He flicked his head to the side to catch a glimpse of Redhead being filled with lead. His body shuddered under a hail of bullets. Blood spurted out of him in all directions. Dom watched on in horror, the cacophony seeming to last an age. Readhead died and his noise stopped, but the combination of the movie and the gunfire continued unabated.

WHAT THE HELL'S GOING ON?
Dom demanded to know.

His survival instincts took control before the chaos did. He made himself as flat as possible, fear juddering through him like electricity along a live wire. He willed the firing to stop, knowing at any second, a bullet could tear through him, the terror ripping his emotions to shreds. The noise buzzed around his mind in a ferocious whirlwind; it was like he was the one in a movie. He looked to the side to see Redhead's dead body slumped on the ground. His face was smeared with blood, a chunk of burger hung from his mouth. His cold, dead eyes stared back at Dom. Any second, and he'd end up the same.

Please stop shooting! PLEASE STOP SHOOTING AT ME, YOU ASSHOLES!

In the next instant, the fat guy's scared scream rang out through the theater. The thugs had answered his pleas and stopped firing their guns.

Dom gasped in surprise. He rolled onto his back and lay where he was, his chest heaving, fear gripping him as hard as he gripped his dart gun. His eyes flicked left and right in obsessive compulsion. High above him, the Wolf Man was getting a close up; his fake facial hair and fangs a cruel joke.

Dom waited, playing possum, not wanting them to know he was still alive.
You wanna find out if I'm dead, come check.

Come check!

There was no sound bar the movie; howls, screams
,
and canned laughter. Dom waited. Waited in agony, a million thoughts racing through his wired mind, sweat plastering every item of clothing to his skin. He could hear his own breathing; it was like tornadoes. The movie then fell into a brief moment of silence. His chest stopped dead. The silence became deafening.

His ears then pricked.

He caught the creak of a leather boot.

He threw his arm out in the direction of the sound. A thug burst into view at the end of the aisle. Dom reacted. He pulled the trigger of his dart gun before the thug had a chance to shoot. He grabbed his upper arm and yelped. In the next instant, he dropped to the rotten carpet. Dom watched him go with an open mouth.

He grinned.
Gotcha!

His joy was short-lived. The sound of the thug slumping triggered off a round of pounding boots. And they were heading his way.

Dom leaped to his feet and faced them. Three thugs were storming toward him along the aisle. He shot off his dart gun again, catching the nearest in the chest. Without waiting to see what happened next, he spun and ran for the stage, hurdling up and onto it like a pro athlete. He'd never moved so fast in his life.

His heart jumped into his throat as he scampered across the stage toward the screen, his head down low. A rasp of bullets cut the movie soundtrack in two. Wood splintered behind him and he jumped in fright, diving forward like a quarterback scoring a touchdown. He crashed into the remnants of the screen, punching a hole right through the Wolf Man. More shots rang out behind him as he landed onto the hard surface of the stage beyond. Like a scared rat, he scrambled to his feet and dashed toward the stage exit door straight ahead, his dart gun still gripped firm.

The boots were soon thudding again once the thugs took up chase. Dom caught his breath, just as he reached the exit. He swung the door open and slid out into the dark corridor beyond without breaking stride. He scampered along the darkness, fumbling for his radio. He managed to pull it out and get it working. "Trixie! Trixie!" he snapped in a panicky gasp.

"Dom?"
came Trixie's swift reply.
"Dom, Listen to me--"

"I'm being chased by frickin' thugs in balaclavas!" Dom blurted, still pounding along the dark corridor to an unknown destination.

"I know. Get out of there!"

"I'm trying!"

"I'm coming in. Where are you?"

"I don't know! I got jumped in screen four."

"Just stay alive!"

"Easier said than done!"

A door slamming made him spin. The corridor then lit up. "There he is!" he heard a thug shout from behind a strong flashlight.

Dom screamed. He turned to the side and kicked open the door ahead of him. He dived into the room beyond, just as a glut of gunfire filled the corridor he'd just left. He threw the door shut, blocking out the noise and scurried further into the new room. His head spun left and right in the darkness. He had to get to--

His shin smacked into something and he stumbled over. His heart stopped in shock as he was sent sprawling across the floor. He groaned, his shin aching. He rolled onto his back, his mind spinning in the pitch black.
Get up! Get up, Dom!
he urged himself.
GET UP!

His instincts kicked into gear and he jacked up onto his elbows. He was about to propel himself up to his feet when the door burst open. A harsh beam of light sparked up the whole room, illuminating the broken chair he'd just tripped over. He squinted against the bright light before he focused in on the submachine gun now aiming straight at him, the cold eyes burning in the balaclava of the thug holding it.

Dom threw out a hand. "No! Whu--" was all he managed before the thug coldly pulled down the trigger. The muzzle burst into flame. Dom's eyes bulged. He shrieked, expecting at any moment to be pummeled with bullets. A loud thwack and subsequent groan accompanied the onset of gunfire. Dom watched in disbelief as the gun was inexplicably thrown off target, sending the slugs in the wrong direction. His head whipped around. He caught a glimpse of bullet holes racing up the wall behind him. Plaster dust filled the room in an instant; it got in his throat, making him cough. In the haze, he watched the thug doubled over in the doorway, his mind severed by confusion. A slender leg then shot into view, the high-heeled boot on its end slamming down like a sledgehammer on the back of the thug's head. He crashed to the deck, sending the only source of light with him.

Now Dom continued his coughing fit in pitch black. Outside in the corridor, a scuffle broke out. Dom scanned the darkness in bewilderment. A rash of gunfire was swiftly followed up with another meaty slap and a female roar. The next body hit the floor. Dom watched the darkness in anticipation, his coughing now under control.

I don't like this, I don't like this. What's going on?

More grunts and groans filled the air. Another sharp smack, and then something big and burly bustled through the doorway. Dom saw a shadow in the gloom lumbering his way. His eyes widened. He went to scramble away, but it was too late. The thing toppled and slumped down on top of him like a comatose bull. Dom's back smashed into the floor under the pressure. He groaned in agony, the chords in his neck straining under the sheer weight now on top of him. The stench of sweat and musk bombarded his nostrils.

What in the hell
is
this?

Dom growled, his teeth clenched as he tried to crawl back, but he was pinned down by a mountain of meat.

"Argh!" he screamed in a panic. He scrambled in the dark, realizing he was a sitting duck. Then, the room was lit up with the flash once more.

Dom gasped, expecting more bullets his way.

"Dom?" came a voice.

"Trixie!" Dom wheezed, grabbing his chest. "Thank Christ." His eyes rolled down to the unconscious thug sprawled on top of him. "Help get this off me," he requested.

Trixie bent down and grabbed the thug's arm. With both their effort, they managed to push him to the side. Finally, Dom was relieved of the burden. He puffed his cheeks. Trixie helped him to his feet.

"Thanks," Dom said, dusting himself down.

"No problem," Trixie replied.

"Who the hell are these guys and why are they trying to kill me?"

"They look like a mercenary unit," Trixie answered in a calm voice. "Hired thugs. My guess is Blacklake. It's the Order. They've started a war."

"Why?"

Trixie shook her head. "No idea. We better get back to the mansion and warn my dad."

A loud bang somewhere in the theater complex made them both start. "Oh crap," said Dom.

"This isn't over yet," Trixie declared. "Come on!"

CHAPTER NINETEEN

V
incent was in his lab, sitting at a counter. In his hand was the strange item hanging around the neck of the vamp Dom first hunted. Vincent had forgotten about it, but now with Dom and Trixie on the job, he took the opportunity to examine it further.

At first Vincent had marked it as just a strange piece of jewelry the vamp wore when alive, but his instincts soon told him something different. There was something about it, something about the way it appeared to communicate with him that first time, the way it made him
feel
.

He gazed at the pendant on the chain swinging to and fro, a shiver running across his back. As the seconds passed, coldness overcame him as if the temperature had abruptly sunk.

"What are you?" he asked it, trepidation rising inside him. The pendant just hung there as if mocking him.

Vincent took hold of it, a bigger shiver now juddering across his back and cheeks. He rolled the pendant over in his hands, scrutinizing it. He then noticed a line running along its center. He dug a nail in the gap and the pendant popped open.

Something from inside dropped out; it hit the counter with a tiny clang. Vincent locked eyes onto it before it rolled away. He threw a palm down over it, trapping it in place. "Gotcha!" he said with a small laugh. What could be described as an electrical charge then buzzed up his wrist. His eyes widened. He pulled his hand away with a yelp. He fixed his stare on the item. It was a small, round marble-like piece of stone or some similar material. It was coated in a strange dusting of something silvery. He went and grabbed a magnifying lens from a nearby desk. He returned to his seat, and stared at the item through the lens, bringing his eyebrows together.

A sudden dread began to rise inside his stomach. Ideas of what it might be were surfacing in his mind. And none of them were good. He ventured to pick the item up again, reaching for it with a trembling hand. This time
,
he was able to pick it up without any painful repercussions. He held it pinched between his thumb and index finger as he brought it closer to the lens. He rolled it. Now he noticed the small yellow/green almond-shaped slit upon it. On the opposite side of the almond was a small white circle with what appeared to be tiny fibers protruding from it.

"Oh my," he said in a gasp, the realization of what it might be fast becoming a reality.

He rolled it back the way it came to the side with the yellowish slit. He squinted his eyes harder and brought the item and the lens closer to his face.

Then, the yellowish slit blinked at him.

A heavy gasp bolted from his chest. He recoiled, tossing the item down and throwing a hand up to his mouth. Sweat began breaking out on his forehead. He stared down at the item in terror. "It can't be," he whispered in utter disbelief.