The Scene (32 page)

Goddammit.

CHAPTER 32

              Still recovering from the shock of Philippe’s “I-am-not-who-you-thought-I-was” revelation, I chose to focus on my friend. Tatum’s blonde locks lay haphazardly around her face like a halo. Her pale skin and nudity made her look almost angelic. I did my best to keep my composure. Pretending as if I was indifferent to the situation was the only plan I had at the time. At some point, I was going to get to my gun and kill that little fucker, but until then, I just had to stay alive.

I lay flat on my back on the cold concrete floor, blood solidifying in my hair, consciousness flowing back into my brain. I stared at Tatum’s naked body until I thought my eyes would fall out of my head. Trying to see any signs of life in an apparently unconscious body from twenty feet away was nearly impossible. Diego stood on the backside of the table watching for my reaction. I wasn’t going to give him the satisfaction. I rolled to my side and pushed myself upward with my arms. I was still very weak from the tumble down the stairs. My arms trembled slightly with the strain.

              “Where’s your buddy? I know you have an accomplice. Now that you’ve taken care of Reggie it looks like you’re a duo.” As I sat up further the shoulder strap slid around my shoulders slinging the bag over my back. It was better than nothing.

             
“Don’t you dare speak her name!” Philippe, or Diego’s, slender alien hands stroked Tatum’s cheek.

             
“So what now? You drink my blood or what?” I shifted my weight forward in an attempt to move the bag closer to my hand.

             
“Slayer blood? Never.” He made a yucky face. It looked out of place for a cold killer.

             
“Umm….what?” I was sitting up fully now, my bag had slid around to my side. Good enough.

             
“Do you really think I would want to taste your tainted blood?” He stepped out from behind the table leaving Tatum exposed.

             
Bastard.
“I have no fucking idea what you’re talking about.” I leaned back on my hands. The bag was only inches from my left hand now.

             
Diego did that saunter walk toward me as he had when I first met him, as Philippe. Even without the ridiculous cape, he looked like a fucking idiot. His feet were sliding across the floor creating a sound of sandpaper that was grating my already pounding head. He was almost on me now; I needed more time. I thought quickly and devised a plan. As dramatically as I could, I looked around him to Tatum’s body. My eyes widened and I gasped. He fell for it. Thinking his body was awake, he turned his head for just a moment. It was only an instinctive jerk of the head but it was my only window. I jammed my hand into the bag. Thank God the flap had stayed flipped over. My hand slid right past the folded student loan bill that had lay in my purse for days. It lay now over the butt of my gun, hindering my grasp. Without a second thought, the gun came out, my hand attached, and aimed directly at his head. I squeezed the trigger without hesitation. The stupid bill crumpled between my hand and the gun. The hammer jolted and fired the shot.  Gunshots echo horribly in a solid brick and concrete room let me tell you. Diego, Philippe, whatever, pulled his head into his shoulders like a turtle. I’d missed him. But I had managed to blast a nice hole through the crumpled mass of paper that had once been my defaulted loan papers. I was pissed I’d missed the idiot vampire, but slightly vindicated that I had gotten justice on that fucking loan that had gotten me into this bullshit in the first place. Even if it was only a piece of paper. Damn nerves. My hand steadied on its own and the next thing I knew I was aiming at his face. He smiled cruelly at me and leapt to his right.

             
I scurried to my feet. Backpedaling toward the stairs, I searched the dark corners for the little shit. When he leapt, he must have rolled into the shadows somewhere because I had no sight of him. In an instant, I made the decision to haul ass up the staircase. Gun in hand, my feet carried me swiftly upward. I emerged, breathless, and dizzy into the pitch black space of the bar area. Thinking sensibly, I reached back and shut the door that led downstairs. The closed door cut the light out completely, but at least I would know if I had a monster at my back.

             
I made my way through the maze of tables, somehow getting myself turned around ass-backwards in the dark. I had made it to the bar that I knew; other than that, I was fucked. I turned and put my back to the padded bar, aimed my gun chest high, and waited for my eyes to adjust to the blackness.

             
In the dark your other senses are on full alert. To my right, I kept hearing a shuffling sound. It almost sounded like mice in a cupboard. I listened closely for a minute or two. The sound never grew louder or closer to me. My eyes were beginning to grow accustomed to the darkness. I could make out the tables, with chairs stacked on them, a few feet in front of me. There was a pool table to my left. To my right was an interesting silhouette. It took my tired brain a heartbeat to recognize the shape it was seeing and react to it. It was a heartbeat too long. The odd shape leapt over a table and tackled me to the ground. My ass hit first, thank God. But my back wasn’t far behind. When my back hit the floor, it jarred my arm and my gun went sliding. The gun made a strange scraping sound as it slid farther and farther away from me. It was the sound of hope lost. The fall had knocked the wind out of me. I couldn’t breathe as it was and the figure on top of me was heavy, strangling the air from my lungs. 

             
I worked my legs back and forth trying to wiggle out from underneath him. He was strong and weighed a lot. This must have been the third man. Philippe/Diego’s skinny ass could never have weighed this much. Stringy hair fell over my face as the figure leaned his body over mine. I could feel his hot breath on my skin. He was a mouth breather. His hands held my upper arms flush with the ground. I kicked rapidly. My hands flexed and clenched. My body was resisting eminent death at all costs. My eyes began to focus on the object before me. A hairline and whites of eyes were all I was able to make out. I figured as long as I could see his eyes, I had something to aim at when I jabbed them with my thumbs. I smiled at the thought and started working my arms harder now, trying to break free of his intense hold. Seconds felt like hours trapped under the dark mass. The face was coming closer to mine now. Only inches away, it smiled. As I saw the whites of eyes, I could see the white of teeth now. I could see the double fangs he bore. He smiled wide.

Shit.

I kicked and screamed and shook my head side to side
, over and over and over again. He put his lips to mine. I squeezed my lips tightly and moved my head to the side. That’s when he bit me.

             
I screamed. Bloodcurdling, horror movie scream. I felt his hot breath on my neck. The sharp points of teeth pressed into my flesh. I felt the skin on my neck pop under the pressure of piercing fangs. My mind kicked into overdrive and something told me to fight like hell. With him over me as he was, I didn’t have many options. His face was buried in my neck, body pressed against mine. I had only one option; I bit him back. I had to jerk my head to one side to do so. As I did this, I tore my flesh from his clench. The searing pain of torn flesh was almost unbearable but not as much so as the thought of dying by poser vampire bite. 

As hard as I could
, I sunk my teeth into the meat of his neck. It was thick and muscled. At first, he only groaned. It almost seemed as though it was a pleasurable experience for him. Then I bit harder. The tough skin that covered his neck finally gave way. Hot, salty blood filled my mouth. He howled in pain.

Good.

              His jaw released its grip and he threw his head back. I kept my hold on him. Blood flowed softly into my throat. I tried hard not to swallow any of it, holding the majority in my cheeks. I bit harder and shook my head from side to side like a pit bull on its prey. I hadn’t hit an artery or there would have been a lot more blood at a much faster rate. So I did my best to inflict as much damage as possible.

             
He lifted himself up using only his back muscles, taking me with him. His hands searched my body for my throat. I released my hold before he had the chance to find it. As soon as he was free, he stumbled back away from me. I crawled backwards away from him, spitting his salty blood from my mouth. My back hit the pool table. I used the edge of the table to pull myself up.

He screamed at me.
“You bitch! I fucking kill you! Can’t wait to drain you dry.” His voice was deep and oddly familiar.

             
“I thought I was tainted.” I was backing farther away from the bloody maniac.

             
“Slayer blood. Amazing. AHHH, what a rush.” A small hint of an accent floated in the air.

             
“You think I’m a vampire slayer?” I couldn’t hold it in. The laughter boomed from my throat.

             
“Don’t lie to me bitch. You kill my Regina. Staked her. Took her fucking head!” He was holding his neck where I bit him.

             
“I killed her?!
I
didn’t fucking kill her. I thought
you
did.” I had backed up as far as the wall would allow. I leaned against the hard surface and felt something roll against my back. I felt with my hands and discovered a rack of pool cues. Better than nothing.

             
“Why would I kill my ravenous beauty? She was my eternal concubine.” His voice went soft.

             
“So, you didn’t kill her? And you think I did it.” I gripped the shaft of a wooden cue and held it at my back.

             
“You were tracking the three of us. Here. Fresno. I would not kill my immortal.”

             
“Well I didn’t fucking do it.” We stood at a standoff for a moment. Staring at each other. “But you
did
kill the other girls, right?” I said finally.

             
“Oh yeah. Of course.” He chuckled lightly.

             
“Okay, just checking.” I pulled the cue around my body and held it machine gun style at my groin.

             
“You die tonight slayer!” He charged me then. Full force run: fast, heavy and never wavering. His dense frame plunged into the end of the pool cue with a wet squeeze. Kind of like ketchup. The sensation was both liberating and horrifying in one staggering breath. He staggered back, stick protruding from his core. He looked at it, then at me. He seemed a bit confused. His legs finally faltered and he toppled to the floor. His last breath escaped his lips, ragged and final. Died for the cause, I guess.

             
“Well, I’ll be damned. Huh,
staked
you fucker.” I kicked him in his side for good measure.  His limp body moved only slightly. 

With all the chaos
, I’d nearly forgotten Diego and Tatum in the basement. Mike and Cyrus had all but disappeared. And here I was right back where I started. In the dark. Only this time, I was joined by my dead friend on the floor.

             
The idea that I’d actually taken a life was starting to sink in. I stared at the wide lump of wasted human. Bile began to find its way to the back of my throat again. I told myself I wasn’t a killer. People who killed bad guys aren’t murderers, they’re heroes. Or vigilantes at least. Hell, in this case, I may very well be a slayer.

That’s way better than murderer. Right?

              A loud crash to my left brought my thoughts back to present. Light spilled into the blackened room as Mike and Philippe, I mean Diego, careened through the wooden door. Instinctively, I grabbed a second cue from the rack and prepared myself for a fight. Somewhere in the mess was my gun. 

I scanned the floor quickly utilizing the new light. From the corner of my eye
, I caught a glimpse of the dead man at my feet. My stomach turned as I looked over his all too familiar features. The heavy frame that had held me to the floor belonged to Sam, blood still drying on his mouth and collar of his shirt. My sweet Hawaiian friend was dead on a bar floor at my feet. I had put him there. I was vexed; I liked him, and I thought he was a good guy. I was really fucking mistaken. Eyes watering with rage and sorrow, I made the attempt at shrugging off the loss and turned my focus to the matter at hand.

At that moment
, Cyrus sailed through the broken door. His eyes were wild as they found me in my darkened corner. The other two tousled about on the floor. One in control, then the other. I moved around the billiard table toward the scrap. I was on my way around a high-top table when my foot kicked something. A familiar scraping sound scuffed the ground at my feet. Scrambling quickly around the ball of men on the floor, I went for my gun. In that instant, Cyrus joined the battle. He leapt into the middle of the jumble like a dog in a pack. Mike was on the bottom of the pile now, Diego sandwiched between them. Diego had his hands clamped onto Mike’s neck. Cyrus grabbed him by the head and began pulling backward. Mike was making horrible sounds from high in his throat. Light washed over them from the gaping hole left in the broken door, acting as a spotlight. I could see Mike’s face changing from pink to red to nearly purple. The scratchy gurgle sound had stopped and only silence emitted from his gaping mouth.