as I let
go and drop off, and roll to avoid the braided guy’s clawed hands as Sideburns hits
the floor.
What
do you know, it worked. The two knives are now as insubstantial as my flesh but
I still hold them, and when I go solid again, so will they.
Verity
hits the braided vampire from the side and circles him with her arms. They
tumble and slither over the floor, moving too fast for me to see what is happening,
a great pile of flesh, white silk and red lace. A tearing sound which could be
skin or silk. Snarls and spitting.
Sideburns
crawls over the floor by feel, one hand before the other, smearing the blood
which drips from his face as he tries to find the door.
The
small human stumbles over one of Sideburns’ legs in his haste to escape.
Sideburns’ hand lashes out and fastens on a human ankle; he pulls it to his mouth
and sinks his fangs in. The human shrieks and futilely beats the vampire’s head.
Red
is on his belly. His back and backs of his arms are bloody black flesh seen
through the missing patches of shirt. His hair has burned close to the scalp.
He will heal, though not as fast as Sideburns who is receiving a tasty
transfusion of human blood.
The crack of breaking bone, and Verity comes upright holding the braided vampire
with a hand either side of his oddly angled head. She broke his neck. She lets
him fall. He lies on his back, head flopped on one side, arms and legs futilely
spidering as though in search of traction.
“Come
on,” she yells.
She
grabs hold and flesh whams into me, the knives again weighty in my hands. In an
embrace smooth as velvet, hard as steel, face smothered in Verity’s breasts, I
try to relax as she takes us through the open window.
We
land below with a thud which goes all through my body, although it doesn’t seem
to bother Verity. She lowers me, smoothes her hands down the disheveled dress
and straightens the high collar. “I think I’ll keep it. It suits me, don’t you
think?”
“You’re
a knockout.” I look up at the windows and the gargoyles gazing down. We’re
sitting ducks. My turn to say, “Come on,” as I head for the wall.
The
backdoor bangs open.
Verity
pushes me toward the wall. “Go on. I’ll hold them back.”
Not
likely. I didn’t go through all this to let her be taken again. I dart around
the garden’s perimeter as she bares her fangs and charges the knot of vampires,
who fall over themselves to get outside. Verity slams into a male vampire and
shoves him back, managing to keep the three behind him bottlenecked in the
doorway. With an animalistic snarl, she sinks her fangs in his neck and rips
out a chunk of meat. A fountain of blood sprays over her, crimson polka dots on
her pale face but lost in the red of her dress. With a concerted heave, the
other vampires shove her and her victim aside and swarm into the yard.
A
female vampire in a black strapless ball gown bears down on Verity as she
tosses her assailant aside. I get between them; Verity darts at another. I close
in with arms crossed at the wrists so my blades bracket the vampire’s neck. They
become solid weapons when they touch vampire flesh and the woman hisses as I
pull them apart sharply. Both blades rip across her neck and open up a gaping
mouth. Blood washes over her breasts. She staggers back, then her feet go out
from under her and she lands on her rump.
Verity
holds another vampire on the ground. She rears up and smashes her bent knee
down on his spine. He jerks, his body goes limp, eyes rolling like marbles.
Two
more guys have enough of the one-on-ones and decide to rush in. The gathering
of vampires chills the evening air as they flow across the yard. I crouch to
face one coming for me.
Hands
descend on me from behind, reach past my shoulders, clamp on my wrists and
squeeze. Flesh is forced into me and it hurts. My bones are breaking. I drop both
knives. Desperately, I fight to lose flesh, and can’t. A vampire has me. The
one in front fastens his hands on my
go and drop off, and roll to avoid the braided guy’s clawed hands as Sideburns hits
the floor.
What
do you know, it worked. The two knives are now as insubstantial as my flesh but
I still hold them, and when I go solid again, so will they.
Verity
hits the braided vampire from the side and circles him with her arms. They
tumble and slither over the floor, moving too fast for me to see what is happening,
a great pile of flesh, white silk and red lace. A tearing sound which could be
skin or silk. Snarls and spitting.
Sideburns
crawls over the floor by feel, one hand before the other, smearing the blood
which drips from his face as he tries to find the door.
The
small human stumbles over one of Sideburns’ legs in his haste to escape.
Sideburns’ hand lashes out and fastens on a human ankle; he pulls it to his mouth
and sinks his fangs in. The human shrieks and futilely beats the vampire’s head.
Red
is on his belly. His back and backs of his arms are bloody black flesh seen
through the missing patches of shirt. His hair has burned close to the scalp.
He will heal, though not as fast as Sideburns who is receiving a tasty
transfusion of human blood.
The crack of breaking bone, and Verity comes upright holding the braided vampire
with a hand either side of his oddly angled head. She broke his neck. She lets
him fall. He lies on his back, head flopped on one side, arms and legs futilely
spidering as though in search of traction.
“Come
on,” she yells.
She
grabs hold and flesh whams into me, the knives again weighty in my hands. In an
embrace smooth as velvet, hard as steel, face smothered in Verity’s breasts, I
try to relax as she takes us through the open window.
We
land below with a thud which goes all through my body, although it doesn’t seem
to bother Verity. She lowers me, smoothes her hands down the disheveled dress
and straightens the high collar. “I think I’ll keep it. It suits me, don’t you
think?”
“You’re
a knockout.” I look up at the windows and the gargoyles gazing down. We’re
sitting ducks. My turn to say, “Come on,” as I head for the wall.
The
backdoor bangs open.
Verity
pushes me toward the wall. “Go on. I’ll hold them back.”
Not
likely. I didn’t go through all this to let her be taken again. I dart around
the garden’s perimeter as she bares her fangs and charges the knot of vampires,
who fall over themselves to get outside. Verity slams into a male vampire and
shoves him back, managing to keep the three behind him bottlenecked in the
doorway. With an animalistic snarl, she sinks her fangs in his neck and rips
out a chunk of meat. A fountain of blood sprays over her, crimson polka dots on
her pale face but lost in the red of her dress. With a concerted heave, the
other vampires shove her and her victim aside and swarm into the yard.
A
female vampire in a black strapless ball gown bears down on Verity as she
tosses her assailant aside. I get between them; Verity darts at another. I close
in with arms crossed at the wrists so my blades bracket the vampire’s neck. They
become solid weapons when they touch vampire flesh and the woman hisses as I
pull them apart sharply. Both blades rip across her neck and open up a gaping
mouth. Blood washes over her breasts. She staggers back, then her feet go out
from under her and she lands on her rump.
Verity
holds another vampire on the ground. She rears up and smashes her bent knee
down on his spine. He jerks, his body goes limp, eyes rolling like marbles.
Two
more guys have enough of the one-on-ones and decide to rush in. The gathering
of vampires chills the evening air as they flow across the yard. I crouch to
face one coming for me.
Hands
descend on me from behind, reach past my shoulders, clamp on my wrists and
squeeze. Flesh is forced into me and it hurts. My bones are breaking. I drop both
knives. Desperately, I fight to lose flesh, and can’t. A vampire has me. The
one in front fastens his hands on my
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