John Steakley - Vampire$

And the smile vanished and the evil sneer spread out to him.

“Puny little man… How I will enjoy your crushing, bleeding, death cries and your—”

“Sure, sure, sure,” replied Felix calmly. “But let’s face it. You can turn ’em on pretty good. But when it gets down to it…” And he held the fingers of his left hand out in front of his loins and dangled them limply. “When it gets down to it, it’s floppity-floppity. Right?”

Its burst of loathing, even from fifteen feet away, all but staggered Felix backward. The eyes went black, then red. The mouth slit itself wide as it stepped toward him.

“Welcome, puny mutt-man, to the… yolk…” and the fangs sprung out wide “… of the egg…”

And the laughter was a spear.

But Felix just laughed back and shot it right between those fucking fangs.

“Heeachaaaahhh!”

And it hissed and shook and the black gob spat out with the pain and surprise and… the hatred — And Felix shot it again, through the chest. And it staggered back, off-balance and reeling, and the backs of its legs bounced against the walled railing and…

It almost went over the edge!

And that gleaming thought, that wish, that insane hope… It stalled Felix for just an instant, just long enough for the monster to right itself and warp open its full monster’s face to the Gunman and Felix heard a crossbow go off… but so did the beast.

And it caught it. It did catch it in the air, goddammit!

Felix shot it again, in the shoulder of the hand that snatched the bolt.

The shoulder warped and shivered and there was more hissing and more black bile spat and Felix shot it again as it jerked toward him and the second crossbow — Adam’s? Jack’s? — tore through the air and crunched loudly through the center of its chest and out against the city lights.

Ungodly, unholy screams filled the night and the city and their heads and the monster’s frenzy was a blur of pain and horror and fury as it bounced and twitched and grabbed at the spit and there was another thong and another bolt pierced its chest from the side, splitting it neatly in the center, and the monster splattered black bile and rocked backward and bit the wall again and reeled, losing its balance and…

Yes! Yes! Go over, you prick! Fall! Fall!

And Felix fired again and again but the shots had so little effect next to the wooden stakes piercing it and there! From the side, motion rushing forward! Jack coming on!

And Felix wanted to shout “No!” but he could not, he could not. It was their only chance and he fired again and again, fired the Browning empty to keep it off balance and then Jack was there running full speed into it but at the last second…

At the last second it saw Jack.

And held up its hand.

And stopped him, all two hundred plus pounds at breakneck speed.

Stopped him. Caught him. Held him, ignoring its own pain and hissing:

“You foolish little…”

Before Father Adam appeared and slammed point-blank into the two of them…

The three went over the edge.

Just like that.

And quiet. So quiet, suddenly. Only the breeze and a far distant car horn and his own breath heaving and…

And Cat beside him, staring wide-mouthed at the wall.

Felix did manage to approach and look down and just glimpse, twenty-one stories down, three forms on the pavement, before.

“Nooooooooooooo…” burst slowly from Cat beside him and Felix felt his forward movement and he dropped his pistol as his right hand shot out and snatched a chain-mailed shoulder and he spun the smaller man toward him and away from the wall and sank his fist deep into his middle.

“Ooomph…” went Cat and sagged.

Felix didn’t wait. He followed with a right uppercut that caught Cherry full under the chin and decked him flat onto the terrace tiles.

Then he pounced on either side of his chest and jabbed a finger into Cat’s face and spat, though he knew the other man was too groggy to hear him: “No! You are not following anybody down!”

Then he rolled him up into a fireman’s carry and somehow bent down and picked up his empty gun and spun around for the door.

We’ve got to get out of here! We’ve got to get out of here now!

Because no fall, even twenty-one stories, was going to kill a vampire.

Back through the french doors and that huge room and those oaken double doors into the hail and mashing the elevator button. Should I wait? Should I take the stairs?

Or will it take the stairs? Just streak up them, floor after floor, to come get me?

But then the bell and the doors opened and the elevator was still there! Had it happened too fast for them to start down? Or some luck for a change?

Does it matter, stupid? Get moving!

The long ride down, floor after floor after fear of what might be waiting when they opened at the bottom.

But nothing. Just the lobby and startled people. Felix trotted down the steps toward the front door before pausing, suddenly, at the sights out on the street, people milling and cars pulled over and — Oh, shit! This is the side they fell on! It’s on this side!

He turned so abruptly toward the back entrance he almost dropped Cat.

The back entrance was at the end of a long tunnel-like corridor with nothing on either side of it but display windows and his own reflection and he thought about stopping before bursting out. Stopping and sneaking a peak. But he was too scared and too shaken and he might not have the nerve to move again, so when he came to the glass doors he simply bounced them open with his hip and he was out onto the sidewalk and there, parked across the street, was the Blazer.

“You stupid broad!” he cried delightedly and sprinted toward her.

Davette had the engine running and the side door open by the time he got there. The smile on her face was sweet and warm and simply everything.

Then she noticed it was just the two of them.

“What? But where…?” she began before he cut her off.

“This is it, dammit! Hit it! Let’s go!”

And she hesitated, but only for a second. Then she slammed the Blazer into gear and screeched away from the curb and ran the first light, turning right with the one-way street and then right again for the next one before Felix realized they were going back around to the front of the goddamned hotel!

“Uh… uh…” he tried to say. But it was too late. She had already made the turn and the front of the hotel Was there with its growing crowd out in the street.

“Hit it!” he yelled. “Faster! Faster! Don’t slow down!”

She barely glanced at him before obeying, slamming her foot down even harder on the gas and bursting past the pale, opened-mouthed faces and around the cars that had haphazardly stopped short, and then they were past them all.

But not before Felix had a chance to see it.

One body. One bloody crumpled form.

Adam.

But there had been three! He had seen three! What could it want with Jack’s dead body?

What?

It would have been so simple if the plane for Rome had left the next day.

But there were papers and official documents and things to hassle over and the only thing that saved them was the Vatican being a separate nation, capable of issuing its own passports. Even with that, it was going to be three days of waiting.

Three days waiting and thinking and mourning.

And more thinking.

Cat thought fast. The first day, while they were sitting around the suite playing with their room service food, he suddenly looked up, shyly, at Felix and said, “Thanks, Felix.”

Which meant thanks for saving me? Thanks for coming up to help with Jack? Thanks for not letting me throw myself off the ledge? All of them?