have got drunk off it. Big
Red’s eyes flashed silver.
“I have
already stated we came to talk.”
I was immune
to Mercy’s psychic compulsion and sort of immune to that of other
vampires. This, however, was not a compulsion. It was a real,
physical effect and no psychic ability could stop it. Even the dumb
‘animals’ of the supernatural world could produce this. It became a
mind over matter issue.
I could lick
this.
Pulling in a
deep breath, I said, “Then stop the games and talk. You may have
eaten tonight, but I’ve only had some Cheetos. Hardly nutritional
enough to constitute a decent meal. If I hit a sugar low, I get
cranky.”
Big Red
hissed, but pulled back on the special effects. “You have something
we want. If you give it to us, we will not kill you.”
The snort was
out before I could think even once. “Dude, that’s hardly an
incentive. I’m not exactly defenceless here. Remember what you just
called me? The Night Caller? The death of your kind? Hmm?”
“You do not
have the crippled one with you. You are vulnerable.”
Mercy?
Crippled? Oookay.
“I’ve taken
down your kind without her help before.”
“Young ones,
yes.”
He had a
point. Bastard. Once a vampire gets its maturity on, they get a lot
tougher, more ammo in the psychic locker. Until they attack, you
can’t really tell how strong they are. Though right about now, I
was thinking this ability to string together coherent sentences was
another yardstick I could use. When she wasn’t sulking, Mercy could
be quite eloquent, but I’d already established she was far from
normal.
Wigged out or
not by Big Red’s mad word skills, I wasn’t about to let him know
that. I lifted one eyebrow and regarded him blandly. “Still, not a
very enticing offer. What else you got?”
“I have been
instructed to offer you protection from the other castes as well as
your life. We will ensure that no other vampire kills you.”
“Let me guess.
I won’t be able to continue being the Night Caller, though.”
“You may. Your
targets would be the other castes, and you would fight alongside
us.”
“Alongside
you. Brothers in arms. Right.” The laugh came out with as much
pre-thought as the snort had. “So, let me get this right. I give
you this thing you want, and I can either retire from the field in
all good faith and no one will come assassinate me. Or, I give you
this thing and join the ranks of the fashion victim vampires.”
“Or you don’t
give us what we desire, you die, and we take it anyway.”
“Crap, man.
This is so clichéd. You’re bargaining with me even while boasting
that you don’t have to. You know, a fella could get to thinking
that you don’t really want to kill him at all.”
Big Red opened
his mouth to respond. I held up a hand to stop him.
“Not yet,
Watson. Holmes is still deducing. And the answer is… There’s two
things I have that you want. One you can’t get if I’m dead.” I
tapped my head. “Which means it’s in here. Which means it’s
probably got something to do with the other thing you want.”
Slowly,
deliberately, I reached into the big pocket on my left hip and
withdrew the Eagle.
“And you ain’t
getting either of those things.”
I shot Big Red
before any of us could think. He screamed as his face started to
smoke. I spun and laid down a ring of paintballs, keeping the
others back. It wouldn’t last long, but long enough for me to get
another weapon.
There’s this
little church tucked away between a couple of big high rises in the
middle of the city. In that church, is a little Father who doesn’t
ask too many questions. He ladles out the Holy water for me, and he
blessed my nightstick.
Three vampires
closed on me.
I shot one and
whacked the nightstick across another’s face. Neither was enough to
take them out of the fight, but it gave me room to get a clumsy
hold on the third coming up from behind, toss him over my shoulder
and land kneeling on his chest. I unloaded
Red’s eyes flashed silver.
“I have
already stated we came to talk.”
I was immune
to Mercy’s psychic compulsion and sort of immune to that of other
vampires. This, however, was not a compulsion. It was a real,
physical effect and no psychic ability could stop it. Even the dumb
‘animals’ of the supernatural world could produce this. It became a
mind over matter issue.
I could lick
this.
Pulling in a
deep breath, I said, “Then stop the games and talk. You may have
eaten tonight, but I’ve only had some Cheetos. Hardly nutritional
enough to constitute a decent meal. If I hit a sugar low, I get
cranky.”
Big Red
hissed, but pulled back on the special effects. “You have something
we want. If you give it to us, we will not kill you.”
The snort was
out before I could think even once. “Dude, that’s hardly an
incentive. I’m not exactly defenceless here. Remember what you just
called me? The Night Caller? The death of your kind? Hmm?”
“You do not
have the crippled one with you. You are vulnerable.”
Mercy?
Crippled? Oookay.
“I’ve taken
down your kind without her help before.”
“Young ones,
yes.”
He had a
point. Bastard. Once a vampire gets its maturity on, they get a lot
tougher, more ammo in the psychic locker. Until they attack, you
can’t really tell how strong they are. Though right about now, I
was thinking this ability to string together coherent sentences was
another yardstick I could use. When she wasn’t sulking, Mercy could
be quite eloquent, but I’d already established she was far from
normal.
Wigged out or
not by Big Red’s mad word skills, I wasn’t about to let him know
that. I lifted one eyebrow and regarded him blandly. “Still, not a
very enticing offer. What else you got?”
“I have been
instructed to offer you protection from the other castes as well as
your life. We will ensure that no other vampire kills you.”
“Let me guess.
I won’t be able to continue being the Night Caller, though.”
“You may. Your
targets would be the other castes, and you would fight alongside
us.”
“Alongside
you. Brothers in arms. Right.” The laugh came out with as much
pre-thought as the snort had. “So, let me get this right. I give
you this thing you want, and I can either retire from the field in
all good faith and no one will come assassinate me. Or, I give you
this thing and join the ranks of the fashion victim vampires.”
“Or you don’t
give us what we desire, you die, and we take it anyway.”
“Crap, man.
This is so clichéd. You’re bargaining with me even while boasting
that you don’t have to. You know, a fella could get to thinking
that you don’t really want to kill him at all.”
Big Red opened
his mouth to respond. I held up a hand to stop him.
“Not yet,
Watson. Holmes is still deducing. And the answer is… There’s two
things I have that you want. One you can’t get if I’m dead.” I
tapped my head. “Which means it’s in here. Which means it’s
probably got something to do with the other thing you want.”
Slowly,
deliberately, I reached into the big pocket on my left hip and
withdrew the Eagle.
“And you ain’t
getting either of those things.”
I shot Big Red
before any of us could think. He screamed as his face started to
smoke. I spun and laid down a ring of paintballs, keeping the
others back. It wouldn’t last long, but long enough for me to get
another weapon.
There’s this
little church tucked away between a couple of big high rises in the
middle of the city. In that church, is a little Father who doesn’t
ask too many questions. He ladles out the Holy water for me, and he
blessed my nightstick.
Three vampires
closed on me.
I shot one and
whacked the nightstick across another’s face. Neither was enough to
take them out of the fight, but it gave me room to get a clumsy
hold on the third coming up from behind, toss him over my shoulder
and land kneeling on his chest. I unloaded
Similar Books
