Outcast, page 3
“George, better feed him,” Susannah said, still keeping her eyes glued to Leif. “His eyes are getting glossy. He’ll be savage soon, and then he’ll probably kill himself in an effort to escape.”
“Oh, I’d like to see that,” George said with amusement.
“No doubt,” Susannah replied, getting back to her feet. “But what good is a dead vamp to us? Especially one like him. I never thought I’d capture one that could walk in daylight!”
“It’s unnatural, I tell ya,” George replied. “Daytime’s for humans, not their kind.”
“Not for this one,” Susannah countered. “Go on now, George. We mustn’t leave our guest starving.”
George quickly obeyed, leaving Susannah behind, whose piercing eyes were still analyzing Leif curiously.
Taking a look past his captors, Leif realized he wasn’t the only being caged in the giant warehouse. There were at least a dozen copper cages, most of them containing single prisoners. Captive vampires.
“What’s your name, friend?” she asked, crouching back down.
“I’m not your friend, human,” Leif replied. He could smell her blood even from this distance, and it drove him mad.
“I’m also not your next meal, so stop looking at me like that,” she replied.
At this, Leif’s resolve to sink his teeth into her soft flesh was only increased.
“Very well, if you won’t tell me your name, I’ll just have to name you,” she said. “You look like a Boris to me.”
Leif did not change his glare.
“I don’t care what you call me,” he spat.
“Of course you don’t, Boris,” she said. “But I think before long you’ll be willing to tell me just about anything.”
“Don’t count on it,” growled Leif.
The pit-pat of heavy, wet boots on concrete came as George returned. His arms held a large box, and judging by the straining of the overweight man carrying it, he knew it was full of something — something that he would do just about anything for.
“Here ya go, boss,” George said, placing the box on the ground next to the hunched-over Susannah, then wiped beads of sweat from his brow.
“Thank you kindly, George,” she replied as she reached over and pulled something from the box.
Susannah dangled a blood bag in front of her, taunting Leif.
“I’ve got a whole box of them right here,” she said, patting the box with her free hand. “They’re far from fresh, but I don’t think you care about that right now.”
Leif’s eyes betrayed his need. He stared at the bag of crimson perfection greedily.
“So let’s try this again, shall we?” she asked, swinging the bag back and forth like a master holding a bone in front of a caged dog. “What’s your real name, Boris?”
He didn’t hesitate. He didn’t care about the humiliation. He just. Needed. To. Drink.
“Leif Villers.”
She smiled, but he knew the warmness of her appearance was a facade. She had no intention of being nice. She tossed the blood bag through the bars, and Leif scooped it right up, puncturing the thin plastic and took long gulps. Just as she’d said, the blood was bitter and stale, tasting a week or two old. It had obviously never been refrigerated. Still, Leif lustfully drank from the bag as if he were drinking it straight from a human.
“See now, that wasn’t so hard,” she said, watching his animalistic hunger with amusement. “George, you’re keeping notes, right?”
Leif sucked the bag dry as he watched the man scrambled over to a nearby desk. It was cluttered with paper and strange objects Leif had never seen before.
“Sorry, boss,” he said, returning with a clipboard and a ballpoint pen. “Leif… what was that last name?”
“Villers,” she replied with annoyance, then returned her eyes back to Leif. She smiled again, withdrawing another bag of blood. “Next question, Mr. Villers. Where are you from?”
“The outskirts of Washougal,” he replied, waiting eagerly for the bag to be thrown right into his cage as a reward for his cooperation.
Susannah didn’t make a motion. “You misinterpreted my question, Mr. Villers. Where did you come from before you became a vampire? Where were you born and raised?”
Leif stared at the bag, balancing whether or not he should answer the question. He hated his past, had tried to forget everything that had happened to him before his escape to paradise — to the Frost Boarding House.
“Santa Rosa, California,” he finally said.
The bag plopped down in front of him through the cage bars, and he picked up his reward just as fast as it had come. Leif tore into it.
“Wonderful progress,” Susannah said. “Are you getting all of this, George?”
“Yes, boss!” George exclaimed.
Leif’s thirst started to quench, and his mind began calming down. He heard whining coming from the other cages, and he looked at the sad forms of other vampires watching him guzzle down his second blood bag. Their eyes showed that they’d only been given enough blood to stay alive in their miserable prisons.
“Progress, Mr. Villers,” she said proudly. “Leif Villers from Santa Rosa, California. Current residence is just outside of Washougal, Washington.”
Leif realized he’d given her two bits of information for the price of one bag and was annoyed at such trickery.
More whining came from the closest cage, and Leif watched as George pulled a coin out of his pants pocket — a penny — and flicked it at the imprisoned vampire. Upon getting hit, the vampire screeched wildly, then fell silent again, staring at the overweight man with pure hatred.
“Shuddup, ya worthless vamp,” George spat.
Susannah chuckled, seeing Leif’s shocked expression. “Try to ignore your surroundings. These other vamps have been… less willing to share information than you.”
Leif wondered at the truth of her words. For all he knew, they’d been treated nicely in the beginning, just like he was now. In fact, he believed that in a few days, he’d be just like the other vampires here, caged up and forced to see the hunters’ latest catch questioned and rewarded.
“Next question, Mr. Villers,” Susannah said, drawing another blood bag from the box. Leif wondered how many were stored within. “Tell me what you know of the vampire known as Draven Denholm.”
Draven Denholm? He’d never heard that name before.
“Who?” he asked.
Susannah studied him, likely trying to discern whether he truly didn’t recognize that name.
“Draven. The leader of the vampires.”
Leif shook his head. He only knew of one other vampire, and that was Beatrice. And he hadn’t seen her since she’d bitten and turned him. For all he knew, she’d been killed.
“You are not a part of the organized vampire community?” she asked with surprise.
Leif gave her a heavy look. “I stand alone.”
One of her eyebrows raised. “Intriguing.”
George was scrawling madly on his clipboard, and Leif wondered what he was writing — what could possibly be so intriguing about a hermit vampire?
Susannah lazily threw him another bag.
He felt like a pig receiving the table scraps from breakfast. His mind really was resurfacing, having thoughts like this. Leif felt her eyes on him as he began to drain the next bag.
He pulled away briefly. “You’re not a common hunter,” he said.
She gave a dark, half-smile. “And what makes you say that, Mr. Villers?”
Leif nodded his head toward the nearest cage. “Because you don’t hunt to kill.”
Susannah blinked a couple of times. “What’s the fun in killing?”
“Something tells me you don’t believe in ‘catch and release’, do you?” Leif asked, continuing to drink from the blood bag. His insatiable thirst was finally subsiding.
“You are in no position to ask questions, Mr. Villers,” she replied hastily. “But I have one more for you.” Susannah reached for another blood bag with one hand, and with the other, she pulled something from the pocket over her breast.
Leif dropped the mostly-consumed bag, the rest of the contents splashing out onto the cement.
In her hand was Gemma’s brooch.
“Give that to me,” he demanded.
“Ah ha!” she laughed, getting to her feet with excitement. “At last, we have eagerness beyond your need for blood.” Susannah felt at the brooch with her thumb, causing rage to build back up in Leif. She must have stolen the treasure while he’d been unconscious.
“Please,” he begged. “You can do anything you want to me — starve me of blood, stab me with copper daggers — just please give me back that brooch.”
“This is old jewelry, likely worth a fair bit of money,” Susannah said, staring at the pendant with greedy eyes. They flashed back up at Leif. “Just how old are you anyway?”
How old? What kind of question was that? Leif didn’t know that number off the top of his head.
“I’m a vampire,” he muttered. “I don’t age. So I’m not exactly sure what my age is.”
She crouched back down and tilted her head to the side. “Well, let’s see if we can help you figure it out. What year were you born?”
“I fail to see why that matters,” Leif said, getting to his feet. He knew he was crossing into danger, but he’d replenished much of his energy with the provided bitter blood and he was sick of being talked down to. And he loathed being forced to remember his past.
Susannah’s eyes narrowed. “Let me put it this way, Mr. Villers. You answer the question, and you can choose which one you want.” She held up the bag of blood. “This…” Susannah brought the bag down to her side, then extended the brooch out toward him. “Or this.”
Leif zoned in on the brooch. Gemma’s face was there, her eyes looking straight back at him. The blood meant nothing to him right now. He’d suffer like the other trapped vampires here if it meant he could have Gemma’s brooch back.
“I was born in 1874,” he said. Leif was amazed the year was so easily accessible to his mind.
Susannah shook her head slowly, an awed look splashed across her face. “Simply astounding. One hundred and twenty years old, and you still appear to be a young man in your twenties.”
“I answered your question, now please give me the brooch,” he said.
Bringing both hands forward, she alternated raising and lowering the brooch and the blood bag like a balance scale.
But there was no contest to Leif. No amount of blood bags could ever equal the worth of Gemma’s brooch.
“Are you sure?” Susannah asked in a mocking tone. “One of these can satisfy your animalistic urges. The other… well, I don’t suppose it can do much for you. Why is the brooch so important to you?”
Leif dropped his eyes to the floor. “No more questions. Please, return the brooch to me.”
The female hunter stared at him for several seconds.
“No,” she said, dropping the blood bag back into the box. Susannah took several backward steps. “I think I’ll hold on to the brooch as a souvenir.”
Anger flared in Leif’s soul, a stark contrast to his cool flesh. The wild instincts he’d kept at bay urged him to try to break out of his cell. Even if it meant his death — for how could he live without this final representation of Gemma?
He prepared himself for the painful ending, crouching low. He’d strike the bars as hard as he could. Perhaps with enough of his strength, he could still break free, despite his weakness to the copper bars.
Just as he was about to lunge, the lights went out in the warehouse. The windows revealed it was nighttime.
And in the wondrous darkness, Leif saw three beings appear at the door on the far end of the room. He recognized the lead figure immediately.
“Beatrice?”
CHAPTER THREE
GEORGE CRIED OUT as one of the black-clad vampires trailing Beatrice slammed into him.
Susannah crashed to the floor as the other vampire pounced on her, sending Gemma’s brooch clinking to the floor.
“George, the hand-cannon!” Susannah cried out to her partner. Leif looked around for the weapon that had caught him back in the woods, finally spotting it sitting harmlessly on a desk along the north side of the warehouse.
Several grunts came from the heavy-set man. “I can’t, I left it on the north desk. How come…” A pained cry stopped him mid-sentence. “He bit me! The vamp just bit me!”
Leif shifted his attention to the large man pinned down, finding the vampire’s face at his neck.
“Your copper knife, George,” Susannah yelled as she tried to slip away from her attacker. She fell flat on her face, a loud crack sounding. She turned, and Leif could see a stream of precious, tantalizing blood oozing from her nose.
A few curses rolled off her tongue. Susannah reached her hand into her back pocket and withdrew a… gun?
Did this vampire hunter know that bullets couldn’t kill them? One slug of lead would hurt, but it wouldn’t debilitate or kill. Unless…
Her attacker lunged, and at the last second, Susannah pulled the trigger point blank.
The shot threw the vampire backwards, right in front of Leif’s cage. Leif could see the bullet hole in the vampire’s forehead, a clean shot. The body remained still, dead eyes still open.
“Copper bullets,” he whispered.
Leif looked back up at Susannah just in time to hear another gunshot crack like thunder, dropping the vampire who had been sucking the blood out of George. The large man lay still, dead eyes staring blankly at him.
The vampire stood back up, pain etched in his face. Leif couldn’t see where he got shot, but as the vampire made a weaker run at Susannah. A third gunshot sounded, and the vampire slid across the warehouse floor in a heap, coming to a sloppy stop. He didn’t move.
And then Beatrice leapt into action, backhanding Susannah while her back was turned. The human woman staggered from the blow, but she didn’t fall down. Instead, she twisted about, trying to get a fix on Beatrice.
Before Susannah could pull the trigger, Beatrice kicked the gun out of her hand, sending it skidding across the floor.
“You just killed two of my friends, human pig,” Beatrice said, grabbing onto Susannah’s hair and lifting the hunter off the ground, causing the woman to scream in pain. “Oh, the things I want to do to you…”
Leif watched the brutality with horror.
“I should turn you into the very thing you capture and torment,” she said, her fangs set and ready to make it so. Beatrice moved in slowly, and Leif could see Susannah trembling from the pain she was enduring, as well as new fear. “But you’re not worthy of joining our ranks as a vampire, and I really want to taste your blood. All of it.”
“No, please, I’ll do anything! Stop! No!”
And in a sweet, sarcastic voice, Beatrice said, “I think you’ve already done enough. Don’t you?” Before Susannah could answer, she threw the hunter to the ground, and Leif heard bones break from the force of her fall.
“Sorry, sweetie, but your hunting days are over. This is what happens when the hunters become the hunted.”
Susannah wept, but didn’t try to fight Beatrice away anymore. Fangs dug into flesh, and blood was swiftly drawn away.
Leif watched as Susannah went paler and paler, rapidly slipping into the cold clutches of death.
Beatrice got up slowly, making her way to where she’d kicked the pistol and picked it up. She released the bullet clip.
“Four more shots,” she said. Slamming the clip back into the handle, she pocketed the gun. Leif assumed she either didn’t want to leave this weapon around for just anybody, or that she intended to keep it for herself. Copper bullets could kill humans just as easily as regular bullets.
“Leif Villers,” Beatrice said, her melodious voice echoing off the walls as she stepped toward him. She seemed tired and agitated, as if the quick fight had drained her of energy. Beatrice was wearing form-fitting black jeans and a thin, unzipped black hoodie with another black layer beneath it. The hood was up, but it did little to hide her white-blonde hair cascading out and down her shoulders. Beatrice had always been proud of her lustrous hair. On her back was a black backpack.
This was the woman he’d held a grudge against for almost a century. It was because of her Leif had become a vampire, cursed to live an eternity without Gemma.
She stooped over and picked up the brooch that Susannah had dropped. Pinching it between her thumb and index finger, Beatrice stared at it for a few moments before pocketing it. Anger bristled within Leif, but he somehow managed to contain it. He needed Beatrice to help him escape.
She brought her attention back to him. “I thought you were dead.”
“Not yet,” he replied. Leif had been willing to do himself in just moments ago, but he wasn’t about to tell Beatrice that. He looked down at her jeans pocket. Her pants were tight enough he could see the brooch poking from her pocket.
The death in the room was an unwelcome companion, and Leif was disgusted at the four motionless bodies that were now nothing but empty shells. Although he was a vampire, his emotions still remained human and raw.
“Who would have thought I’d run into you here?” she said, gesturing to the spacious warehouse. “The great Leif Villers, captive of the hunters.
“How did you know I was here?” he asked.
She laughed. “I had no idea you were here, Leif. We came to rescue the other thirteen vampires. It’s a shame we lost two in the effort to reclaim thirteen.”
“It’s a waste of two lives,” Leif said.
Beatrice shrugged. “They served their purpose. And not only will I be able to bring back thirteen vampires, we’ll get you on top of it.”
Leif narrowed his eyes. “You’ll get me? Beatrice, nobody gets me. Once I’m free, I’m going back home to live alone. If anything gets me, it will be solitude.”
Shaking her head, Beatrice said, “If you want to be alone, then you can stay in that prison cell.” She turned and started stepping toward the cage where the vampire who had been hit by George’s penny was.
This wasn’t the response Leif had hoped for. And on top of that, she still had Gemma’s brooch in her pocket. “Wait.”
