Chapter 3
Down Into Darkness
“I’m sorry, sir! Can you say that again!?” I blurted out, hoping that the stranger had intended to say something a bit less coherent. Maybe, “I don’t bestink your mud,” or something like that.
That was not what he said to me. To drive that point home, his eyes bore into mine with the fires of perdition burning behind his pupils, and he repeated the words, slowly adding emphasis to enunciation. “I will have your blood, young man. There is nothing you can do now that you are in my power!”
I looked at the towering figure. His eyes held mine, and in that instant I sensed that everything came down to a contest of wills. I said nothing, afraid to move until the last possible instant. He said nothing, waiting for his aura of fear to fully sink into my bones and freeze my marrow fast, rendering me senselessly immobile. I knew that once he got those long, powerful fingers locked around my head I was a goner.
I very well might have remained like that, galvanized to that spot of ground, but then it happened . . . the thing that must always happen when you’re accosted by a bloodsucker of the night. I saw the briefest flicker of motion in his eyes as they lost their lock on mine. His gaze shifted subtly and hungrily to my throat.
. . . and he was a dude.
He licked his lips to moisten them in preparation for his attack, where he would wrap his mouth around my throat.
. . . and he was a dude.
No offense meant to the LGBT community. But that just ain’t me. So as the fiend stepped forward, his gaze now firmly and lustily fixed on the vulnerable spot between the curve of my shoulder and the bottom of my ear, I raised my right hand and sent my fist pile-driving right between his eyes.
The vampire’s startled lids automatically pinched closed in pain. He opened his mouth to let out a furious hiss, and . . .
And his fangs fell out of his mouth onto the ground below with a soft plop.
“Oh damn!” he exclaimed. Things might have been copasetic between us if he hadn’t chosen to look at me like he expected me to give him a moment to squeeze those things back into his mouth, so . . .
I hit him again.
“Ouch!”
“What do you mean, ouch?!” I screamed at him.
“That hurt!” he cried out from behind long fingers cradling his nose.
“Do you mind if I please just get these?’ he flashed in annoyance.
I stood there gaping dumbly at the man. “What, so you can use your powers to mind-rape me before draining me dry? Hell no, buddy!” I cried out in defiance and danced closer to hit him again.
The vampire held his hands up in supplication. His voice was heavy with regret. “I only wanted to scare you.”
“Well cut that shit out!” I screamed. “You can’t go around propositioning guys like that. Next time just slip someone a roofie, alright?”
“What is a roofie?” he asked, trying to sound vampirish by pronouncing it as “Vaat is a roooofie?”
“Don’t be absurd,” I snapped. “You’re not a vampire.”
The man bent over, snatched up his teeth, and quickly reseated them on his gums. As the smoldering glow within his eyes reignited, I muttered, “Geez Louise.”
Maybe he was.
“I am a vampire,” he said sadly,” But I’m afraid I’m not a very good one these days.”
I stepped back and got ready to hit him again. “Then you might need roofies if those fangs keep falling out,” I said, pointing at his mouth.
He arched an inquisitive eyebrow at me and said nothing until I realized he was waiting for an answer.
“Oh. Sorry,” I told him. “A roofie is a type of sedative some people use to incapacitate dates so they can . . . you know.”
The vampire shook his head sadly. “I’m afraid I’m not that kind of vampire.”
I didn’t know if I was ready to accept that after his first menacing performance. “I’m sure you tell that to all the guys.”
A grouchy expression flitted across his face. “I’m not that kind of vampire, either. What are you, some kind of homophobe?”
I still didn’t unclench my fist. “Stick to the topic. What gives?”
With a dramatic twirl of his cape, the man who nearly accosted me drew the fabric over his chest as smoothly as Bella Lugosi. “What gives with you setting off all of my alarms and scaring my guard dog in the middle of the night?” he retorted.
“The schnauzer? That’s your guard dog?” I felt like laughing would be impolite.
“We prefer to call him a Hound of Hell.”
Good grief.
I chose not to respond to that. I’ve seen Chihuahuas that were more intimidating. Instead, I told him, “I didn’t have any choice in the matter, what with the crazy genie and all . . .”
From my companion came a sharp intake of breath and a muttered curse. “That fink!” The glow in his eyes flared into intense miniature furnaces.
“You know each other, then?” I asked darkly.
He gave a sardonic laugh. “You might say that. He is the reason I live here in the Playground.”
Confused, I said, “Cemetery?”
The vampire suddenly looked around with intense concentration and hissed angrily. As I opened my mouth to ask what was wrong, he cast me a look warning me to keep my mouth shut. In the distance I heard shouting and saw flashlight beams probing the cemetery’s heart as they waggled across the ground in search of interlopers into the necropolis’s tranquil abode.
“Follow me if you want to live to see the next day,” he urgently demanded.
Before I had time to think, my companion was off into the labyrinth of mausoleums faster than Wiz Kalifa could roll a blunt. He was pretty spry for a dead guy, darting between headstones like an Olympic grave robber. I had to run as fast as I could, but he still kept too far ahead of me to bother calling out to slow up. Meanwhile, my stomach gave a sickening lurch when I heard an angry chorus of ferocious dogs start baying somewhere near the main entrance of the grounds.
As I rounded one of the larger crypts, a long arm swept at me out of nowhere, taking ahold of me with the strength of an industrial steel band. I reacted in panic, prying at it with my finger and beating at the arm’s owner ineffectively. I tried levering my body to flip my attacker over, but his strength was staggering. He forcibly twisted my arm until I had to drop to my knees or risk feeling it become liberated from my shoulder blade.
The sizzling pain was too sharp to make a sound. I felt myself dragged backward into the mausoleum and heard its heavy door grate to a raspy close. So this was it? Killed by a murderous villain of the night and bled dry even as the searchers arrived? Maybe they weren’t searchers.
Maybe they were rescuers.
No sooner was that thought out than I felt myself shoved hard against the cold wall. I gave out a pained oomph, inhaling decades of dust into my nose. I barely managed to get enough air for a breath when cold, hard fingers covered my mouth, and the vampire leaned in close. I smelled the flat, irony scent of blood on his breath as he spoke. “Keep your damned mouth shut. They’ll be gone in a few minutes.” Then he added reassuringly, “I have voles.”
I strained against his unbreakable grip, but all I managed to do was pinion my arms uselessly until I wore myself out. On the other side of the granite walls I heard the muffled exchange of cold, brutal voices and animals that sounded more reptilian than canine. Now that they were practically on top of us, I realized that maybe they weren’t rescuers after all.
When the sounds of their search died down, I felt the hold on me slowly begin to loosen. When I could finally breathe again, blood circulated in my head once more and my thoughts became clearer.
I have voles? I misse
d something somewhere and felt like it was important.
This man was strong enough to have easily pulled me apart back where we met. When all remained silent for a bit of time, I relaxed a little. His fingers finally disappeared from around my face and the vampire pressed a stone lever, causing the wall at the back end of the structure to slowly move in on itself with an abrasive, stone-on-stone sigh to reveal a dark opening. He let go of me and swiftly disappeared into the darkness. I heard his voice echo up to me, “You can come down here and live or go outside and die, but if you go back out, would you please shut the door completely? I would prefer not to have to listen to you scream.”
I wasn’t ready to go down into that dark hole yet, so I crossed my arms and just stood there. “Hey, what did you mean about voles?” I called into the opening.
That got nothing.
“What did you mean about a playground?” I didn’t see any playground; all I saw was the cemetery.
That too went unanswered.
Looking into the inky black opening, I cast a rueful glance at the small safety light countersunk into the lintel above the door. Damn it was cold. I swore several oaths aloud and started to walk into the secret passage where an undead predator with a driving need for human blood waited.