Dory suddenly remembered why fighting this guy the normal way wasn't a great idea. He dodged a blow, jerked his tie off, and wrapped it around her neck in a single, almost impossible to see motion. And just that fast, she was choking to death.
It was like the river all over again, only this time, she was suffocating in open air. But none of it was getting down her throat, and try as she might, she couldn't shake him. This is why you fight the old ones with toys, she reminded herself, as stamping on his feet didn't work and stabbing his calf - repeatedly -- didn't work and then an arm went around hers, holding her in place, and she couldn't get loose and she couldn't breathe.
And then someone started blowing a horn.
Dreads, she realized, in the car behind her, and he was laying it on. Why, she didn't know, since the vampire wasn't likely to be spooked by a car horn. But someone else was.
Dory didn't know what the driver of the Lincoln had thought about all this, but each crash had caused him to speed up, maybe trying to outrun the crazy Bug on his tail. But that hadn't worked, which must have panicked him even more. And when Dreads started all the commotion, it was the last straw.
He floored it, despite the fact that they were coming up on a curve, the big car taking it on two wheels. The Bug, which was not as heavy or aerodynamic as the Lincoln, didn't handle it so well, flipping onto its side before skidding towards the nearest light post. Which fortunately caught it before it slammed into a shop.
The Lincoln's passengers weren't so lucky.
Dory was never entirely sure what happened next. She knew she was thrown free, knew she rolled into a very hard brick wall, knew she managed to rip the damned garrote off her neck before it finished killing her. But other things were a little sketchier.
Like how Dreads magically appeared at her side, or why the vamp hadn't come over to finish the job, or why she kept going back down every time she tried to stand up.
Black outs. She was having mini blackouts, she realized, probably due to lack of oxygen, and that wasn't good. Like the fact that her senses seemed to have cut out on her. Dreads was talking, as usual, she could see his mouth moving, but no sound was coming out.
And then the vamp was there, grabbing her up, and this was it, wasn't it?
This was how she went out.
Fuck it, Dory thought savagely.
Make him feel it at least.
And she did. An upward swipe of her arms broke his hold, but instead of running she grabbed him back and flung him through a closed shop window. And then dove after him, picking him up again amid glass and wood and tourist tees, and slinging him with all her might at a very solid brick wall.
And right on through it.
She stared, not understanding, because that wasn't what usually happened when she threw a guy at a wall. But he was already coming at her again and there was no time to think. Just to growl and run to meet him, catching his fist in her hand, forming the proverbial immovable object and irresistible force. Because for a moment, they just stayed like that.
And then she forced it back.
The look on his face was almost comical, but Dory wasn't feeling very funny. She snarled and picked him up, body slammed him, and then threw him at the wall on the other side of the alley. This one didn't break.
It did, however, leave a vamp-shaped indentation in century's old brick, like the one she left when he came off the wall with a roar and returned the favor. They proceeded down the alley, trading off full body slams, and leaving a set of modern art sculptures behind them, madness worked into stone. And somewhere along the way, Dory figured out what Dreads must have been saying.
And then she spotted him at the end of the alley.
"The pills!" she yelled, having just buried the vamp in brick again.
"What?"
Marlowe tore free and came after her, and she slung him into a wrought iron fence, because she'd run out of wall. "Bring me the rest of the pills!"
"You don't need any more pills! You gonna die if I give you any more pills!"
"I'm gonna die if you don't!"
"Goddamnit!" he glared at her. But he came at a run, just as Marlowe grabbed her again.
"You missed your turn," he seethed.
"You know . . . I never did learn . . . proper manners," Dory panted, and shoved him back at the fence. And ripped a section of old ironwork out of the concrete, bolts and all, and started rolling him up in it. Like the carpet, she thought, giggling hysterically, because she was high as fuck. And because it was funny, a carpet full of pissed off vamp that was snarling and snapping and trying to bite. And ripping off solid iron pieces until she started hitting him in the head with one, repeatedly. And then Dreads was there.
"When you do . . . the incantation . . . this time," she told him, "send it all . . . to hearing."
He threw up his hands. "But I just told it to go to strength! And you can't split it like that! Least not right after you just --"
"It's not for me."
"What?"
"It's for him."
"Him?" Dreads regarded the captive, snarling vampire. "But he ain't taken any pills."
Dory smiled and grabbed Marlowe's remaining curls. "Give me a minute."
Conclusion