Vampire Hunter D Volume 13: Twin-Shadowed Knight Parts 1 and 2 (5 page)

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ide-brimmed traveler's hat, inky black long coat, sword across the back—and more than anything, those handsome features. No matter how she looked at them, both of them were D. However, the atmosphere that surrounded each was as different as shadow and light. Though the D with a longsword in hand had a viciousness that would crumble stone and steel, the aura drifting from the D who stood empty handed was the pure ghastliness of one prepared to battle to the death.

The two beautiful figures suddenly blurred. Mia had shed a tear.

Great, there really are two Ds. That other one—that bastard—wasn't him. And she wept with joy at the thought of that.

“Are you going to draw, D?” the other D asked, lowering his blade. “As I'm sure you probably know, our capabilities are perfectly matched like no two others in all the world. But I'm at a distinct advantage having drawn first.”

One D referred to the other as D, but the other one didn't reply. The speaker's gorgeous form was pierced by an egregious, overwhelming killing lust.

“I could kill you now,” he continued, “but that wouldn't be much fun. It'd be a waste. For me to disappear would be a great loss to the world. Join forces with me, D.”

“D is your name,” the other D said, speaking for the first time. The voice and tone were exactly the same—but somehow entirely different. “If you want to make this world your own, go ahead and do so. I only want to know where he has gone.”

“So, you came in search of some clue to that? You don't have any interest in me at all then?” he laughed. “The other me is even scarier than I thought. I can well imagine how incredible the long years have been. However, fear not—they are at an end. I will ask you one last time: are you willing to join forces with me?”

The world froze. Time itself stopped, and in a space where the very color seemed to drain from the planet, the youth uttered a single word in a rusty yet inhumanly beautiful voice: “No.”

The air whistled, and one D's sword stretched toward the chest of the other. It was so sharp and moved with such speed it would've seemed inescapable to anyone who saw it.

At that instant—

“What the hell?” one of the Ds groaned, but which one?

As D had thrust his blade, Mia had slammed into him. Instinctively D shoved her away and swung his blade around again, but it no longer moved with the same speed it had at first. A ching! rang out with a flash of light. D staggered backward—the resistance he'd met had been totally unexpected. Even without the original force behind his blade, he couldn't believe the other D could draw and parry his blade in a single movement.

Still poised for action as he leapt backward, D made a swipe with his right hand. The head of the girl who'd slammed into him went flying, and then popped like a soap bubble. However, it was fair to say that his action had been a grave mistake.

The D that he'd crossed blades with hadn't stood around waiting. As he leapt in pursuit of the first D, the speed and distance of his jump were exactly equal—a perfect match. On D's landing, a merciless slash from the high position came straight down on his head—and there was a horrific thud.

An explosion of gore was the only way to describe the way red was unleashed on the world, and the thud came from the man's right arm, which had been severed at the shoulder. Still gripping its sword, the limb twitched feverishly but quickly turned a lifeless hue.

If what this D had said about them being “perfectly matched” was true, he might've died right then and there. Although he made another bound in an attempt to escape, his leap was clumsy, while the other D leapt gracefully.

However, at that point dust kicked up from the ground between the two of them, and the heavy crack of what seemed to be old-fashioned rifles resounded from the direction of the village. D and D turned that way simultaneously and saw horses and riders approaching. Though several of the riders held rifles at the ready, there was no telling which of them had fired.

His face pale, the D that'd lost an arm let out a low chuckle. “These clowns probably think they're seeing things. Guess I'll have to bring them back to their senses. So long, for the time being.”

And grabbing his severed arm from the ground, he spun around.

One D fleeing, the other D in pursuit—and a number of bullets ripped through the body of each. True to their dhampir nature, they were jolted ever so slightly but didn't fall.

The fleeing D turned to the one in pursuit and told him, “There's less than two minutes left, you know.”

And without another look back, he dashed over to the chestnut horse.

The remaining D appeared to hesitate just for a heartbeat, and then turned quickly to face Mia and the approaching villagers—and the atomic charge. As he walked toward them, he staggered a bit. Three red spots marked his chest and shoulder area. The slugs from the rifles were intended to take down armored beasts weighing nearly a ton. They were enough to instantly kill any ordinary human three times over.

Their mounts kicking up dust as they closed in, the marksmen held their rifles at the ready. A new volley of gunfire was already prepared for this gorgeous target.

“Stop!” someone shouted just then, rushing out between them. It was Mia. She was alive. The figure that had been cut down moments earlier was only an illusion. “This isn't who you think it is. Stop it!”

Her desperate appeal made them hold their deadly gunfire for a moment.

In the meantime, D swiftly closed on the atomic charge. As he bent down over it, bullets kicked up dust all around him. Not seeming the least bit concerned, D pulled up the atomic charge. He placed the palm of his left hand against the top of it. Scalding plasma enveloped his body. There was a flash that seemed liable to sear the optic nerves, but Mia's eyes shut automatically against it. The world was stained blue.

Startled, the horses in the fore of the advancing group halted. How long was it before shadows formed again in a world that'd been robbed of them? Suddenly, the blue glow was swallowed by the sunlight.

Putting the atomic charge—which had already finished discharging its energy—down at his feet, D stood there silently.

Seeing from his preternaturally beautiful appearance and the raucous orgy of light they'd just witnessed that this was no ordinary person they were dealing with, his pursuers and their steeds froze in their tracks. However, a hoarse shout of “There's the girl!” gave way to cries of encouragement and lashes to their mounts as the riders once more galloped closer. They halted at a spot more than thirty feet from D, and not one of them showed any signs of dismounting. The few riders who'd broken off must've gone after the D who'd fled.

“What's your business?” D inquired softly.

“The sheriff saw a certain man slaughter all those villagers. Seems it was a guy so good looking there'd be no mistaking him for anyone else in the world,” said the portly old man with gray hair who was apparently their leader. On his chest was a sheriff's star.

Staring intently at D, he shook his head from side to side, saying, “Damn, you'd even make a man like me funny in the head. What's your name, young fella? Oh, that's right—I'm Old Jal, third person to hold the post of sheriff in this town.”

“D.”

In the span of a second, the color drained from the old man's face. As he looked ready to keel over backward, two men hastened to support him, one on either side.

“I'm okay. Let go of me,” Old Jal said, shaking his head from side to side. Pulling free of the men and returning to his original position, he continued, “The moment I saw your face, I suspected it might be you—never thought I'd actually meet you, though.”

The words came out of him like a groan, and his face was slick with cold sweat.

“As sheriff, I'm giving you an order. Get out of town immediately. If not, we'll deal with you right here.”

He raised his right hand. Once, he must've been a true force to reckon with, because the marksmen showed not a mote of uncertainty as they raised their weapons in unison. Then, they immediately became flustered, also in unison. For D had looked at the men.

“This just doesn't figure,” a hoarse voice said.

D glanced at Mia, who was crouched down and covering her eyes. “Her eyes were damaged by the flames from that atomic charge,” he said. “She needs treatment.”

“I'd have taken her to a doctor even without you telling me to. You know, there are some families that are having a hard time accepting the sheriff's story. After she bolted from the hospital this morning, she passed one of those folks on the road. That's how we knew where to find her.”

“You've got too many with you just to be looking for her,” D said.

D's earlier remark about the group not figuring had left Old Jal stupefied at how that voice and face had differed as much as heaven and hell. Finally managing to quell his inner turbulence, the man replied, “That was my call. I figured she might've run off to the freak that butchered all those villagers. And it looks like I was right on the money.”

At that point D squatted down beside Mia and gently brushed her hand aside, laying his left hand over her eyes in its place.

“And you'd just let that freak leave?” D asked the lawman.

“Sure, so long as he swore he'd never come near our village again. Vampire Hunter D—that's a name more feared than the Red Death.”

“Those are just rumors started by the Nobility!”

At that gloomy female voice, the men turned as one and looked at the ground between them and D—at Mia. As the girl got back up, her eyes had a soft glow.

“Vampire Hunters are real heroes, battling the Nobility to defend us. And out of them all, one man's name stands out as having the greatest character, skill, and looks in all their history—and that name is D. Shame on you for calling him fearful.”

“There aren't any Nobility around our village!” a rider to the back shouted out in a voice that was close to a scream. “Yet here we have a Vampire Hunter. What the hell's he doing here?”

A number of people chimed in their agreement.

“Actually . . .” Mia began, but she was at a loss for a reply. In villages where peace prevailed, townspeople were loath to mention the Nobility or anyone connected to them in any way. Especially Vampire Hunters.

“You're right,” D said, taking over for Mia. “My work is finished here. I'll leave now.”

“Not yet you don't!” someone bellowed in anger from the last rank of riders. “The way the sheriff tells it, this has to be the son of a bitch that killed my boy. There's no way I'm just gonna sit here and let him go, Old Jal!”

The men turned in unison to look at the wrinkled face of the old man. The marksmen, however, never took their eyes off D. The eyes of every man there carried expectations of the slaughter to come.

Though those looks played across the old man's face like flames, it remained as steady as bedrock. “Swear to me you'll never come back,” he said to D.

And D replied to the old man. “I can't do that.”

The air solidified. Deep in their inner ears, every one of them heard a harsh metallic sound. Perhaps it was some sort of warning sign set off by their brains. Danger! This young man is simply too gorgeous. The marksmen's fingers had the triggers back as far as they could possibly go without firing. And those fingers trembled. In their heart of hearts, each of them screamed, Hurry up and decide already! We're gonna have no choice but to fire!

A shriveled voice drifted out across the wintry wastes. “Go.”

Rifle barrels dropped as if they'd been snapped off. The marksmen felt relieved.

“I'm warning you,” the old man said, trying desperately to sound as resolute as possible. “The next time we see the two of you anywhere near our village, we'll fire on you without a minute's hesitation. Don't you forget that.”

Shooting a glance at Mia, who stood stock still, D said, “She doesn't have any connection to me.”

“She don't have any connection to our village, either,” Old Jal declared. “Both of you go on and get now. Luckily, your horses are still fine. And you'd do well to never come near our village again.”

Turning his back on them without a word, D walked over to where his horse was tethered to some rocks a short distance away.

“Sheriff, please hear me out,” Mia cried to the lawman. She sounded like she'd been backed into a corner. “At present, something incredibly bad is about to happen to the world. Nothing at all is clear about precisely what it is, but it's going to happen just the same. And right here is where it'll start.”

“Go,” Old Jal spat at her.

“Listen to me.”

A gunshot rang out, and at the same time, a puff of dust went up, making Mia take a step back. One of the marksmen had fired a shot.

“Go.”

Mia gave in. Gnawing her lip, she headed for the cyborg horse. Suddenly, she heard approaching hoofbeats to her rear. Turning, she tried to get away, but it was too late. The second she groaned from the shock of a thick arm wrapping around her waist, Mia was pulled off her feet and up onto the back of a horse.

“Hunter, turn and face me!” bellowed the rider behind Mia, resting a compact crossbow on one shoulder while, with his other hand, he gripped the reins and held a combat knife to the girl's jugular vein.

“Don't do it, Gully!” Old Jal shouted, but the man wouldn't listen.

“The matter of you killing my boy still ain't settled. Don't you move—you do, and I'll kill the girl,” the powerfully built farmer shouted.

Saying nothing, D headed toward his horse.

“Hold it right there! She's gonna die!”

As those cries bombarded him, D straddled his horse, and then turned to face Gully the farmer. It looked as if he didn't have the slightest regard for Mia's safety. But then, that went without saying. He was D.