©Copyright jvaughn, 2013, 2014. All rights reserved. Copyright violators will be prosecuted to the fullest extent of the law.
*
Ed was furious.
This is such a fucking clusterfuck! I should have known Salt wouldn't wait for us. I can't believe he walked into a vampire's lair alone, the idiot. He's probably dead by now. If we're very lucky Valjevo won't take too many casualties while he makes his escape with his victim.
The local police had evacuated the church; there had only been a few priests and the janitorial staff there that late in the evening. The SWAT team had the building surrounded, and Ed's elite team, which tonight was just her, Dean, and Andy, had gone in. She normally didn't do field work anymore—it was too dangerous and she was irreplaceable—but they had lost several field agents over the last few months. They were short-staffed, she had the skills, and heaven help her, she'd developed a fondness for Salt over the years. She'd rescue him if she could.
She was wearing a tight-fitting all black cat suit, black gloves, and black boots. Her pale face and blonde hair were covered with a black ski-type mask in a thin, breathable fabric. Although she was practiced at moving silently, she knew that, with the vampire's heightened senses, it would be almost impossible to sneak up on him. Even if he didn't hear or see them, he would detect their scent.
She couldn't smell the vampire at all when she got to the church, which was odd, but she'd lost contact with Salt shortly after he had entered the building. Surely he'd found something; Valjevo had to be there somewhere.
The church was huge. It was going to take the three of them forever to search it, but she couldn't risk calling in the SWAT team to help. They were too likely to see things they shouldn't, and without proper weaponry they wouldn't be effective in any case.
The vampire would most likely be below ground. She had issued a query about whether there was a burial chamber in the church; if so, that's where they'd find Valjevo.
Her earbud dinged and a voice she recognized as belonging to Phil, the commander of the SWAT team, came on the line. He was agitated, almost hysterical.
"Agent Cordova! You won't believe what just happened. You won't believe what I'm looking at right now."
Ed rolled her eyes as she snapped, "Tell me!" He was wasting her precious time.
"We all saw it. One minute the side of the church was all brick, looking just like it always does, and the next minute the brick faded away and now there's a set of stairs leading down to some double-doors. We're investigating now."
Oh, Lord! This is just what we need—some paranormal phenomenon that half the SWAT team witnessed. How hard is
that
going to be to cover up?
Just then the stench of vampire hit Ed's nostrils. It wasn't close, but close enough.
"Do not go in!" she screamed into her mic. "I repeat, do not go in!"
The earbud crackled in her ear and she didn't get a response.
Oh hell! Another idiot!
She started to sprint outside while she contacted Dean and Andy and asked them to join her. Phil hadn't said where they were, but the SWAT team commander had been stationed on the north side of the building, so she started there.
She found them right away. They were just swinging open the double doors at the base of a long set of broad stone steps.
"Stop!" she cried as she dashed down the stairs, her dart gun in hand. "I go in first. You stay here until I give the word." There was no need to be quiet. The vampire would surely have heard or smelled them already. Dean jogged up to her side, his gun out, eyes on the hallway beyond the door.
Phil glared at her. "I'm not letting you have all the glory. This fucker's mine." He strode through the door and into the cool hallway. He had his Glock out.
As if that will do anything other than piss him off! I'm surprised the man has lasted this long if he's this stupid,
thought Ed.
Andy showed up just as she and Dean started to follow the SWAT team commander. They stayed right on his heels, ready to bail him out when he ran face-to-face with the vampire and shit his pants. The rest of the SWAT team started to move in behind them, and she barked out, "We'll cover him. You stay here. I don't want a single one of you entering the building."
They hesitated. She had no authority over them so she wasn't sure if they would actually obey her or not. Sometimes she thought that if she were a man, she'd have a better chance. Macho men, which SWAT team members almost invariably were, didn't follow women easily, no matter how commanding they were.
The hallway was short and led to a set of stairs—leading down, of course.
"Let us go first," she told Phil. "My team is trained to deal with this type of thing."
Not acknowledging that she had even spoken to him, he started down the stairs. She stuck right behind him, her senses alert. The stench of vampire was strong along with the smell of decaying flesh; this was definitely a vampire lair. The man had no idea what he was about to encounter. She just hoped she, Dean, and Andy made it out alive. She didn't even want to think about Salt or Mel's chances.
At the bottom of the stairs there was a long hallway, which opened into a lighted room at the far end. There were a few doors along the hallway, all of which were closed. She heard a voice coming from the lighted room. It was young, male, and sounded excited.
"Come on, Tigger, let's go! As soon as we're out, you can call an ambulance. You're not doing him any good right now. Let's go!"
While she was processing this confusing information they had quickly traversed the hallway. When she was able to see what was in the room, she was shocked to her core. A dark-haired, naked youth was kneeling next to a small blond who she was pretty sure was Melvin. She had looked at plenty of pictures of the towhead. Melvin was draped over Salt who was lying unmoving in a very large pool of blood. There was another person lying face down on the floor, also in a pool of blood, and there was a pile of clothes that had obviously been the vampire. It was still smoking slightly.
Salt must have killed the vampire before he succumbed to his injuries.
She realized that the dark-haired youth—most likely Mel's best friend, Jon, her infallible memory supplied—was in the process of unlocking the shackle that was around Mel's ankle. She was most impressed with his composure in the face of what had surely been a horrifying experience.
Just then she realized that some of the SWAT team had followed them in, and one had just run back out to call an ambulance. "Dean, go out and let Central know we've got some cleanup to do here. We'll need one of our ambulances."
"Melvin," she barked. He lifted a tearful face to her and her heart sank. "Is he dead?" she asked gently.
"N ... not yet. He's still breathing."
She was surprised at the intensity of her relief.
I'm getting soft.
She knew if she let her emotions color her decisions, she would start making mistakes. It was best not to get attached to any team member, however, Salt was her longest-running active field agent, and the most effective.
If he can keep his head out of his ass and follow simple instructions,
she reminded herself. Hopefully he would stay alive long enough for her to chew him out. A quick perusal of his body told her it would be touch and go. He didn't seem to be bleeding much anymore, but the quantity of blood on the ground was appalling. If her team got to him fast enough, they might be able to save him. They were exceptional.
She spared a glance to the other body. She could tell by the extreme thinness that the man had been enthralled to the vampire. She suppressed a shudder. She could not imagine a worse fate. Judging from the tattered robes, he must have been one of the priests.
The SWAT team commander was checking the body for signs of life, but she knew there was no point. If he wasn't dead already, he would be shortly. Being a thrall sucked the life out of a person. They weren't technically dead, but their bodies couldn't metabolize food. They were filled with a gnawing hunger, but no matter how much they ate, it didn't nourish them. Within weeks there would be no hope of saving a thrall even if the spell was undone. This thrall's sanity was probably destroyed in the first few hours. His body had been sustained by Valjevo long after the point where he normally would have starved to death. Now that the spell was broken, he would die, if not by his own hand, then technically of starvation, and within the hour.
"What happened here?" the SWAT team commander demanded of Jon.
"Don't answer that," Ed snapped, fixing Jon with her most commanding glare. His eyes widened and he looked back and forth between the two of them.
The youths were in remarkably good shape for having been under a vampire's care even for just a short time. Melvin appeared disheveled and heartbroken. Jon was cradling his left hand close to his chest, but otherwise he seemed unscathed.
Just then three EMTs arrived with a stretcher. They went directly to Salt and began the process of assessing and stabilizing him, hooking him up to an IV, and loading him onto the stretcher. They worked quickly and efficiently. Unfortunately, they weren't EERIE EMTs.
We'll have to conduct a snatch, damn it,
Ed thought.
"Where the hell's our guys?" she growled at Dean.
"I'll go find out," he responded, looking grateful to have an excuse to get away from her.
"Get someone to do an interception for Salt—and tell them if they botch it, I'll have their heads!" Her team would waylay the ambulance that was transporting Salt, putting everyone under with a harmless but effective knockout gas. They would then transfer him to their own vehicle and take him to their facilities at Central.