Night 6

That night, Brick and Doc started wrapping the dead bodies and carried one while James slung the one from behind the desk onto his shoulder. They walked the bodies to the car and shoved them in the trunk. Then they piled into the car.

They drove down to the riverfront and found an alley where they thought they would not be easily seen. James stepped out of the car and looked around. Then he walked to the trunk and opened it. He pulled out one body and hefted it over his shoulder. The smell was not so potent next to the water and the rot in the street. He began to walk. He heard Doc and Brick grunting with the heavier body. He made it to the riverbank and dropped the body. Looked around and found a metal pipe and tied the pipe to the body. Then he rolled the body into the water. Brick was tying a chunk of concrete to the other body by the time James had tossed his over. Then the other body fell into the water with a splash.

Someone took off running. James bolted after and soon found himself catching up to an old bum. The man turned around and started screaming, “I didn’t see anything, mister, I swear, just don’t fuckin’ hurt me.” The man was blubbering and crying like a child. The old man looked to be in worse condition than the corpse James had just thrown into the water. James just turned away and started walking back to the others. Anya was still waiting in the car.

They drove back to the apartment complex where Jessica had lived. James parked the car and stepped out. The place had not burned nearly as badly as he thought it would have. He waited for the others to get out of the car and then they started walking toward the building. The four of them remembered the last encounter too well. They were all on edge and the zombies had not helped matters any.

James stepped into the building and noticed that the fire had not touched the lower floor. He figured that it had been contained and dealt with quickly. They started up the stairs toward Jessica’s apartment, knowing that anything worth knowing would be up there. The floor where Jessica’s apartment had been was scarred badly and the damage had been wiped over by a clean up crew. There were no bodies and no chalk outlines. There was no blood and the news was sure to have stated that any damage incurred was due to the panic of the residents.

James walked to Jessica’s apartment and stepped below the dangling half of a door that was left and noticed that nearly everything had been burnt. He could not even find the stake that had held the vampire fast while he hacked its head off. He felt a chill at what that really meant and his mind replayed the screams and scurrying sounds for him in even more grisly detail than he had originally thought he had heard.

Brick and Doc were looking through blackened and charred remains and Anya was tracing the white of the walls with her fingers at the edges of the burns. The places she could do so were few. Brick picked up a half melted videocassette by two fingers and looked around at the others, “Dracula, the original with that creepy old guy. Looks like someone liked classics.”

Doc picked up charred pieces of paper that he had pushed into a pile and started reading words, “Nosferatu, Qiang-shi, Ghoul, Rhangda, vampire, vampyr, vampiro, loup-garou, bats, wolf, rats, blood, vitae, sanguine humor, sickle cell anemia, coagulation, diphtheria, succubus; looks like someone was doing homework. I think we may have just confirmed the validity of that notebook you found, James.”

James looked at Doc, “See if you can find the name of that hospital, maybe we can find out who that guy was and see where that leads us.”

Brick looked to Doc. Doc nodded, “Hopefully it won’t be another dead end.” Then he looked to a doorway, his eyes narrowing.

James walked over to him, “What?”

Doc walked through a charred doorway and brushed some fallen tile away to reveal the kitchen area of the apartment. James stepped in and saw that the tiles were charred but the burning had not been too bad. Doc picked up a leather messenger bag and opened it. He pulled out a handful of papers that were relatively untouched by flames and began scanning them. A few handfuls later and he looked up, “Perhaps we should take a look out at the Ulbrik Hospital and see what there is to see about the place. After all, not much is left here and the rest of the building seems to have been saved.”

James walked over, “Ulbrik, anything specific on it?” He looked around cautiously.

“Just an address, I should be able to figure out where it is easily, probably a nearby town.”

“Alright, let’s get outta here. I don’t like this place and want to get gone.”

The others followed his lead and they hurried back to the car and then to the office where Doc immediately sat at a computer and began looking for the hospital. He found directions to the hospital and printed them. He stood ready to go.

“Wait,” Brick said and sat down in front of the computer, “Let’s see if anything strange has happened to the place first. No sense in going if we don’t have to.”

Anya shrugged, “Strange, like what?”

“Like a fire that burned the place to the ground. Everything was destroyed, no survivors. Blood was found nearby and arson was suspected but they have no suspects in custody and no reports of suspicious behavior. One vehicle was stolen and found on the side of the road, out of gas. You guys getting this.”

James shook his head, “Anything else.”

“I can see if there was a separate place their documentation was kept but according to the article, that place was pretty closed lip about its patients and they weren’t big on the net. If anything, you’d have to check all the hospitals in the area for a database backup. Other than that, the fire probably wiped the slate clean and destroyed any server they had with soft records of the shit we need to look at. Then again, the stolen vehicle may not be the work of the vandals.”

Doc looked to James and gave him a witty smile, “What if our hunter friend just happened to get away during the fire, or with what’s going on lately, it was set by vampires to get rid of him and he steals a car to get away. That drops him out in the open. We might have someone out there who will draw the attention off of us for a while.”

James slouched against the desk, “It also means that he could be dead and that means the only ones left are us and we’re not doing good enough. We’ve got more problems than answers and we’re running out of stuff to help us win the battles. We need help.”

Brick looked up, “Do we?”

The other three turned and leaned in over him.

“Check it out; paper said there was blood left, they also said that the local P.D. was doing the investigation. A little magic and look at this, here’s the DNA testing and the backgrounds ran. The blood was from several people, but the only identifiable trace was sent to the FBI. And those nasty bastards got DNA tests from everybody who’s ever gone to a hospital in the US and had blood drawn. Now, don’t do this at home kids, but look what I found that the FBI isn’t wanting to tell anybody.”

The screen showed a long paper written by a medical doctor who had verified the test and the name at the end was enough to leave them all with a ray of hope; Allison Thomas. “How about that for P.I. work guys?”

James looked at him, face to face, dead in the eye, “Find her, and I’ll finish this.” The anger in his voice was so strong it could have toppled the whole city. He wanted to leave and he wanted to leave then.

Brick’s reply was a simple, solitary nod. He set to work. “Hey, guys, I got an apartment, let’s jet.” He scribbled down the information on his hand and they were gone.

They went to the apartment and James knocked on the door. No one answered. James looked over to Doc. Doc shrugged. James knocked again, harder. His eyes narrowed. He looked around from side to side. He kicked the door in and splinters flew. The apartment was cool, spacious and dark. Two pinpoints of light sat in the darkness in front of a window. Eyes.

James pulled his shotgun and he tossed Brick a Glock. Doc stepped in to see what was going on and noticed the shimmering lights that were the reflections from the hall lights in someone’s eyes. He slid a hand up the wall and the lights in the room came on. The man that was tied to the chair with logging chains and staked through the heart was large, muscular, handsome and beaten to a bloody mess by whoever had put him there. And whoever it was that had put him there was not so certain that the stake would be enough.

James started moving in with Brick watching his back. They moved toward the man. Doc stepped up and scanned the room. Every detail was important. Doc got close to the man and started inspecting the bindings. He tugged at the chains and noted that they had been squeezed together, as if a child had squeezed clay together, and then they had been locked together. The stake was not one, but two pieces of wood. One was oak and the other was ash. Doc leaned closer to inspect and heard a gasping noise and jumped.

James and Brick turned toward him. James’ eyes were cold and filled with hatred. Brick was shaking with the fear of a newborn. Anya stood in the doorway, “What?”

Doc stepped back, “I’ve never seen anything like it. They used ash and oak, both the traditional vampire stake woods as if to make sure, then they squeezed a steel logging chain like putty before locking it together, and he’s gasping… or moaning.”

James walked over, “That’s fucking impossible. You stake a bloodsucker, they don’t do shit.” He leaned down with the shotgun in the man’s gut. He shook his head, “Nothing.” He walked to the window.

Brick stepped over to the man in the chair. He started to lean over and then heard a sound like wind rushing through lips. He leaned closer and put his ear to the man’s mouth. The words were slow coming out and not even a whisper, but if he strained, he could just make out what the man was saying. He focused for a good five minutes before standing back up. “Sounded like he said ‘Kris Bane, go to Elizabeth.’ Mean anything to you guys?”

James walked back over, yanked Brick out of the way and then grabbed the stakes and pulled them out. The wound made a sucking sound as flesh moved back into place. The man gasped and long blonde hair seemed to explode into being around the mans head and fangs seemed to almost leap from his face as a scream that sounded more like a howl bellowed from him. Every muscle tensed and his eyes bulged. A beard grew instantaneously. The clean shaven man looked like he belonged in a rock band suddenly. The eyes gave away that it was the same creature.

James leaped back, “What the fuck was that?”

Doc, whose jaw was wide open in awe of the sudden change, replied, “I don’t know, never seen that before.”

The man looked up to James, “There are certain times when we,” he stopped to rest, “revert back to the way we were when we were first changed.” He looked so incredibly thin and weak, despite the huge muscles. “If you want to win, find Kris Bane. He can help you.”

James put the barrel of his shotgun to the man’s head, “Who the fuck are you?”

“Arthur Larden, but I was first called Angus Mac Cannaugh. That was before the Romans tried to invade the north, before the Celts were considered barbarians. You’re here to fight Ekatarina, to find your woman. You’ll need Kris Bane’s help. Go to the Erzebet’s, it’s a club in downtown Manhattan, and ask for Ty. He’ll tell you where to find Kris. He can fight us. He can kill us.”

James got down in the man’s face. “Why would you help us?”

“She is a mutual enemy. She has fed me enough to survive the night and enough information to know that you’re looking for her. You are with one of my kind. That is more than enough, seeing as how this night will be my last.”

James turned to look at Anya. She stepped back with a guilty look on her face. Then her eyes bulged and she screamed as claws and streams of blood came from her abdomen. The claws receded slowly and she was thrown forward. James stepped out of the way, but Arthur caught Anya on his teeth and fed. Brick and Doc were firing at the doorway but nothing was there. James pulled Anya away from Arthur.

Arthur was covered in blood. Anya was heaving with pain. Arthur’s mouth was coated in gore from Anya’s neck and his muscles bulged and color came to his flesh. The chains snapped and he stood. His pants were little more than tatters. His fingers ended in claws and he stood and howled and every dog for miles howled in unison. He hunched down and stared at the woman with his lips curled back and his hackles up like a German Shepherd ready to attack.

Anya stood and looked at James. “You bitch.” was all he said. They turned to the door.

Arthur did not look away from the door, “When it comes in, I’ll attack. You run and find Kris. It’s your only chance. Understand.”

James walked beside him, “I don’t trust you.”

Anya looked at James, “Do as he says, I’ll help him.”

James looked at her, he was too angry for words.

Doc pulled a long knife out and had a pistol in hand.

Brick stepped up beside James, “This isn’t good, is it?”

They stared and stared and then the sound of beating wings and wind. James whispered, “What the fuck.”

Arthur said for all to hear, “Hold your ground and wait for the creature.” That unnerved James, a vampire called this thing a creature. Then crows filled the room. Beaks and claws slashed, pecked, cut and tore as they assailed the window behind them. James fired a shot to clear a section of the room and then the glass burst out and the crows flew through, doing their damage and passing out the window.

The flock was gone and then the feathers settled as the young woman glared at them. She had red hair. Arthur and Anya had not moved and their wounds were already healing. James was as still as ice despite the new rips and tears in his skin. Doc was bleeding and breathing hard and Brick was shaking.

James turned his head slightly toward Doc, “That your girl?”

Doc caught a small bit of breath and then replied, “That’s her.”

Arthur stood, roaring. His flesh seemed to bulge as muscles knotted and reformed beneath, growing larger. Hair grew all over the man’s body and the bones in his legs popped as the muscles pulled them into the shape of a wolf’s legs. His head grew and his ears became pointed and laid on top of the wolfish head. Soon, the man was a red haired half-dire wolf ,half-man war machine with fingers ten inches long and claws that looked more like curved daggers that stood ten feet tall and howled. Then the monster bounded toward the girl and they grappled. Anya leapt like a beast and then Doc charged in, firing at the little red head. He looked back over his shoulder, “My life’s over, get the hell out of here and beat this thing.”

James grabbed the kid by the back of the shirt, “Don’t need you growing balls all the sudden kid, you’re with me.”

The redhead was holding Doc’s broken body in one hand, blood trickling around her hand. Anya’s neck was in the girl’s teeth, snapped and Anya was screaming wildly and Arthur was struggling with her to move her away from the door. James ran past at the first opportunity and drug Brick behind. Brick was shouting. He would learn to cope with losses someday. James was still trying to understand Doc’s move but the old man seemed to know that someone else would have to die. It was a little much, but he did not have time to dwell on it. He had to remember Erzebet’s and Kris Bane. Those were the only things that he could think about.

Then he was on the streets, out of breath and still seeing Doc and Anya, the vampiric betrayer and that vampire that had sacrificed himself for the two of them. He could not believe that he was working with the enemy and yet, it seemed that to win this one, he would have to. He wished he would have never found out about the fucking walking corpses.

Brick looked at James, “They’re all dead, aren’t they?”

James looked back, “Yeah, kid, they are. Let’s get gone. We’ve got to find that Kris Bane guy.”

Kris awoke and lay still for a moment. He tried to push open the stone sarcophagus but was foiled by the weight of the stone. He stayed there waiting. The cold stone was making him shiver and the dark made his eyes strain. It seemed he would be trapped there forever until finally the stone was pulled back and Kahmir stood in the shadows and flickering lights, half of his cadaver face black and ashen.

Kris slid out and asked, “What happened?” He looked around and saw the open sarcophagi of Arthur and Tyler.

“We had daylight visitors and Arthur was staked and taken out. Tyler chased some of the men into the tunnels under the city and I was drug into the sunlight. There were thirty men, fully armed and prepared even in the daylight. They were sent by Domitius. He knew Arthur would come here and now they have him. Domitius is winning.”

“Are you going to be alright?” Kris asked.

“I have suffered worse.” He walked away and gestured for Kris to follow.

After walking some distance down the tunnel, Kahmir stopped to check on a pack of Nosferatu and one bent down to look at Kahmir’s wounds. Kahmir snatched the one armed monstrosity and snapped its neck back and ripped into its flesh with his wildly curved nest of fangs and drank noisily. Kris felt his gorge rise as he watched the ancient feed on one of his own kind. Kahmir finished and wiped dripping blood from his corpse grin with a ragged sleeve. The body fell limp in the ancient creature’s grasp. Kahmir drug the thing along behind him, leaving a trail of blood in the sewer tunnels as they wound deeper into the caverns beneath the city. Rats rushed in to lick up the liquid grotesquery. Kris was not so sure about his vampiric savior, but then again, no human would like to live as a damned soul, forever killing their own kind.

Kris followed and Kahmir turned down a path that led to a huge pit. He slung the wasted body into the darkness and then flicked a light switch to watch. Kris stepped to the edge just as the snarling and ripping started. The scene below was something right out of ‘Night of the Living Dead.’ The six creatures looked almost as corpselike as Kahmir, but were not drinking. They were tearing chunks of flesh from the body and eating it. They were ghouls. If Kris remembered right, that was one step away from zombie, which was one step above motionless, normal, hospital and graveyard cadaver. The sight was gruesome as the monsters shredded the other monster for food and even gnawed on the bones and slurped at the brains of the Nosferatu that Kahmir had drained. Even as Kris watched, he noticed Kahmir’s features growing back into place and bone structure reforming out of the corner of his eye. It was a bit much and his stomach gave in. He did not remember everything yet, and he would not be able to handle everything at once. One of the ghouls lurched for the freshly digested vomit and drank it off the surface of the ankle high sewage water that they lived in.

“There are more in the city, but we keep them satisfied. Seeing how they are a bit much for the likes as walk the day. And scenes like this are a bit much for you. You still have a long way to go before you are the Kris Bane that the walkers of the night know.”

Kris looked into those dark orbs that sat in that brown, leathery face and could not reply. He was learning some things all over again. He was scared to find out what things he might be used to. He did not truly enjoy being among the vampires as he was. He looked back down and saw the ghouls finishing off the last of the dead vampire. He turned away.

When he turned back a question had formed from the night before, “You knew Ekatarina or whatever her name is, what did she do to you?”

Kahmir turned to him, dark orbs glossy and shimmering, “A long time ago, I lived in what is now Germany, not all that far from where Ekatarina came from. It was a small hamlet with some four hundred mortal souls, enough to sate an ancient who rests and bides his time but not enough to ensure the survival of one like me through a night of fighting. I stayed there to get away. Then the hag came, the ogre. There were many stories running rampant through the town, of course. The people were haunted, their bodies were decimated. They started bickering and fighting among themselves. Soon, they went mad and started torturing each other. Only a few were left sane and the others started playing games to see if they could drive the ones that kept their sanity over the edge. They killed babies and made young children fight dogs for food. They carved up loved ones before them. The men hunted wolves until there were no packs left in three days ride from the town. I tried to discover the root of such depravity and found that a female vampire was at the source of the river of blood and the winds of madness. I followed her path until the very night when I was staked and put on display to the entire village. They watched the morning sun burn my leathery flesh and then buried me in the moist earth with a stake still embedded in my chest. I did not awake until one hundred and seventy two years later. Ekatarina was only a wives tale among the children of the small hamlet by that time. We knew the name, but not the face. She did it for entertainment.”

Kris listened intently and wondered if maybe Ekatarina had more purpose in New York than any of them had thought.

Tyler stepped out of the shadows. He was stripped to the waist and his pants were soaked through. His muscles were solid and his stomach was as taught as any in a muscle magazine. “They’ve met a poetic end, one with sceamin’ an’ darkness for those that would kill a sleepin’ man.” He looked at Kris, “Hey, what you doin’ down here, mon?”

“Seeing the sights. What about Arthur?”

“He be sleepin’ the long sleep, mon. Darkness be on his side though.”

Kahmir turned, “We must pay Domitius a visit, I think.”

The three of them trudged back to the small alcove with the homely appearance and then stopped by Kris’ apartment. Clean and ready to walk the streets, they left for one of Domitius rave houses. Kahmir faded into shadow as they came onto the streets. Not even a true witch doctor or a small child could see through his ancient trickery and stealth. Kahmir was absorbed into the night and the shadow and the darkness as if one had poured tap water into the ocean. Kris knew Kahmir as only an inky shadow at the edge of his vision, only because of the power of the blood in him.

Ty enjoyed the night, it was evident in the way he walked staring up into the heavens and smiled at everyone who would look his way. It had been his time in life and it was his time in death even more so. Kris could not help but smile at his friend’s joy. It was strange, Tyler was the only vampire that seemed to relish in undeath joyously rather than for power or greed. Joy was something that vampires did not have.

They walked on until they came to a large corporate building. Tyler led Kris around to the back and they entered. Kahmir stepped out of the inky blackness, more to keep it simple than anything. Kahmir had forgotten long ago what normalcy was and his eccentricity showcased itself in grandiose displays of supernatural powers. To him it was nothing more than the way he walked to spill into an inky black shadow on the ground or to drip upward to become a dark form on a ceiling.

The three of them walked through the parking garage and came to a large double door and Ty opened it. They walked through an empty storage area and then came to a single door that seemed to be nothing more than a service entrance. They went through and then wound down through the basement levels of the building finally coming to a crowd of people standing in a long line. Fashion and its sickly antisocial counterparts were louder than the screaming and more blaring than the lights that came from the doors ahead when they opened. The three walked past the line and people booed, hissed and threatened, but one gaze from Kahmir as he peeked from the shadows silenced any of them.

Two bouncers tried to block the door. Kahmir walked up to them and stared into the eyes of each one in turn. The two brutes stepped out of the way. They were both quite large, but if either had seen Kahmir for what he really was instead of whatever shadow he had pulled around him or seen Ty baring his sculpture perfect body, they would have stepped aside anyway. The three stepped into the huge room.

The place was a converted storage basement with concrete walls and one, single level floor, all one room large enough for a football field. A band played near the far wall but only bodyguards kept the addicts that were flying high on ecstasy and heroin from getting too close. Kris saw that the thin line between vampire and mortal was broken here. The whole place was a party and the humans were kegs waiting to be tapped and he could already smell the blood. The place was packed from wall to wall and every carnal act on earth was playing out in a place no cop would ever look, or die trying. Orgies, every drug from every era, blood sharing, fighting, Kris was surprised they were not sacrificing virgins somewhere in the room; then he realized that if there were virgins in the city that were old enough to screw, then they probably were being sacrificed in that room.

Kahmir dripped up from the inky darkness of the floor into the cadaver of the sewers. Dozens of normal people went into a frenzied panic at the sight of a puddle of darkness turning into a walking, mummified corpse. Some tripped over others to get away, some stared on in frozen terror, several screamed and then there were the ones who smiled in a drug fried daze at another wild trip. “Welcome to Hell, Kris Bane. Now, to find Domitius.”

Ty was staring at the band, his eyes lit on the fine featured female lead singer. Her straight blonde hair and piercing blue eyes paired with tiny fangs that made her look like she was going to play with the people in the room like a soon to be dead mouse. “She be looking’ like she gonna kill somebody, mon. I think I’ll be likin’ dis.” He started walking toward the band.

Kahmir glared at a large black man and opened his maw. The normally cool badass quivered and his stomach gurgled as he lost control of his bowels. Kris shook his head. He realized that despite the humanity that still burned inside the ancient beast, Kahmir was truly warped by the constant need to slaughter. He was glad that he would never fall to that state of depravity.

Kris walked along as Kahmir limped beside, a circle opened around them wherever they walked. Despite the corruption of the mortals in the room, they found it difficult to accept a horrid countenance even though they could watch others cut and puncture themselves, even carving wounds into their own flesh. Kris thought it hypocritical.

Ty made his way over to the mosh pit in front of the band and waded through as people bounced off of him. He made eye contact with the woman. She was alive and yet she looked so similar to the undead that it was disturbing. She was so pale, her flesh was almost translucent and she barely breathed at all. He watched her as she flung her head from side to side and wailed into the microphone. She was beautiful.

Kris walked to a corner that was hidden in shadows, accented with the white of hanging cloth that was easily distinguishable as Roman or Greek in origin and he figured that only a true Mediterranean vampire like Domitius would be able to throw such a perfect Bacchanal. He waded through the goths and the vampire wannabes and past the punks and the druggies and pushed past the suits who wanted to get back to their college days and the housewives that were once orgy frequenting sluts who wanted to remember their old lives. The young man and the ancient beast stood before Domitius, the tall, dark, handsome vampire that came to the minds of all the romance reading wish-I-were-hot-enough-to-score-that-guy pudgies at home on their couch that night. He stopped in mid sentence at the sight of the two and smiled gently, his regal features made the smile seem even friendlier. Kris glared.

“Good evening, gentlemen. I’m surprised to see you out at a place like this, I know it’s not quite up to your expectations, but it’s the best I could manage. Anyone like a drink?” He gestured to the people around them as if showing off his list of house wines.

“I’m looking for Arthur Larden.” Kris said in a tone that was as powerful as thunder even in the overly loud room.

“Then go to the woods. He adores them. Beyond that, you’ve come to the wrong place looking for the likes of him. Still, I would not see you out without some fun first. Please, enjoy yourselves. How long has it been since you’ve been to a party, old rat?”

Kahmir stepped forward and leaned into Domitius face. “I know you sent them, it was in their minds and easy enough to figure out. What have you done?”

Domitius pushed the creature away and stood, straightening his suit, which was probably worth more than Kris could imagine. “I have done nothing. I suggest you make suppositions about someone else.”

Kahmir rose up to the standing vampire and Kris could see Domitius temperance fade away. “You know that I know. Do not call me a liar.” Domitius cringed and looked away. “I am your elder and can see more than you think.” Domitius was trembling violently and then pressed his hands to his temples as he began to kneel down in pain. “I can see inside you and know all that you know.” Domitius screamed. No human throat could have managed that ragged, shrieking wail and it seemed as though banshees were calling for a soul to be harvested and brought into the world of the dead. Kris put his hands over his ears as did many others who heard the death keen that bellowed from Domitius throat. Tears of blood streamed down Domitius face and a red froth bubbled on his lips as his throat bloodied under the pressure of the crooning.

Kris looked around and saw cronies moving in to help and then they all stopped. They were frozen in place. Kahmir was a powerful creature indeed. Kahmir finally stopped and Domitius stood again. “Pleased, old rat? Didn’t find a damn thing in there did you?”

Kahmir looked disappointed, “But it was in their minds,” he said under his breath.

Domitius waved off his minions with a motion of his hand. “I have no quarrel with you or Arthur. Leave me alone and go back to your shit whole, desert rat.”

“Not until I know what is happening.” Kahmir threw up his arms and tendrils of shadow wrapped around him like a many layered cloak until he was gone into the darkness, no more than a ghostly presence that could be felt by those who were attuned to the supernatural.

Domitius shot a glance at Kris, “Crazy old bastard, I hope you find something of use, you wretched sheep.” Kris stepped toward Domitius and grabbed the vampire’s collar. “If I find out that you had any part in this, you’ll see daylight one last time, real soon. Understand?”

Domitius looked into Kris’ deep blue eyes with his dark brown ones, “Try it, mortal.”

Kris punched the vampire in the stomach and Domitius doubled over. Kris was the only mortal that could make Domitius feel so weak. It was as if when Kris was there, his vampiric blood was of no use, no good. It seemed like it was stagnant and slow in his veins. The closer that damned mortal got, the slower and weaker he felt. Kris turned and walked away.

The way things looked, it seemed that Domitius was just a pawn. Then again, he did not know how deep the treacheries might go. He was getting the feeling that he could trust no one, not even Kahmir. He hoped that he was wrong. He was going to need help and friends in the nights to come. The closest thing he had was a woman that he had not yet talked to since the fire. He wondered if she was alright. He shrugged off the feeling and realized that he was lost in the midst of a vampire rave in the bowels of a city that never slept with neither of his allies around to help him. He was floundering in the outside world as much as he was in his own memories.

He knew so much about the city and names and who did what where, but he did not yet remember the intricacies of who he was or had been before he became the big bad, vampire killer. He stopped walking and let the crowd envelope him as he tried to drudge up more about himself. The music droned into the background and the half naked bodies that writhed around him were nothing more than paler shadows against a backdrop of ever darker shadows, mingling like layers of freshly disturbed mud and silt on the bottom of a mud puddle.

He focused on the memory of when he was sixteen. Something was strange about that memory. There was something there that he wanted to remember but could not. He wanted to know where he was from and how he had become. It seemed as though he should have been too young to kill a vampire. He was young and he was frail and he was a freak. He was a nerd, a dork; he was the son of a steel mill worker and a waitress. He was a normal boy who had made normal grades and played with normal action figures and ran through normal woods and went to a normal school. He was Kristian Alexander Blade-Baines, made fun of for having the goofy fantasy novel last name but he did not remember exactly why he had had that strange name, but his mother did not want to lose her name and had condemned an ordinary kid with nothing great about him to being a storybook freak. He had been made fun of, Kris Blade, Blades-Bane, Alexander the Bane, Kris the barbarian. The names went on forever and he remembered that there was one person who did not make fun of him. Mary Jane Bates. She had red hair; not red like step child, freckles, irritate the piss out of you and frizz all over the place red, but beautiful red with green eyes that should have grown up to be a gorgeous woman. But she did not grow up.

He blinked as he noticed a large opening in the crowd near the band. Something was happening. He saw two men circling but could make out little more than that. He shoved his way through the crowd and fought past the crazed partiers. After a few minutes, he discovered that two vampires were fighting, using their dark gifts in plain sight of hundreds of mortals. He could not believe his eyes.

One of the vampires was a small, muscular Asian man whose movements flowed like water and the other was a massive black man who struck out with rock solid punches that Kris knew would probably crush through stone. He watched the match in awe as the two fought like something out of a movie. They seemed to move so fast that you could see only half of their movements. It was like watching an old Jackie Chan flick on fast forward. Kris was glad they moved slower when he was in a fight with them. He realized that that was just what happened, they slowed down when he was focusing on them. They were weaker, too. He made them closer to mortal when he wanted to fight them. He shook off the revelation to watch the rest of the fight, knowing that somehow, all this would seem like a dream or would be totally forgotten by the majority of the people watching. For the others, it would be a far worse thing than some confusion, vertigo, a hell of a hang over and a little drug induced forgetting. There would be no few that would simply not wake up.

The Asian man finally landed a debilitating hit to the other man’s face. Blood, thick and dark as though it were somehow compressed, arced out over the crowd as blow after blow landed. Claws ripped through flesh and bone crunched and then the Asian was holding some strange red mass over his head as blood poured down his arm, tracing out the perfectly chiseled muscles. The big black man dropped to the floor in a puddle of thick red muck from the mixture of dirt and blood, a hole in his chest. The crowd cheered. They had all witnessed a supernatural kill that would be forgotten with the rising sun.

It disgusted Kris to think of the way these people were. He figured it was much like the displays at the Coliseum. He thought of what Kahmir had done in the sewers and then realized that Kahmir was more humane than the creatures that reveled in the pain and torture of souls around him. Despite the cruelty of killing, Kahmir had done it to heal himself and then feed six creatures, who themselves would have killed countless others for the same amount of food. And it had been a vampire, not a mortal, but these people could not tell the difference between the two, not with drugs and alcohol and blaring lights to disguise it.

The Asian threw down the bleeding piece of meat and looked around. Kris fought to get closer. Once he made it to the edge he saw Ty. The Asian vampire looked at Ty and grinned. Ty stopped and looked back. Kris thought that it looked as though Ty was hoping to get away without being spotted. Ty’s head dropped and his shoulders fell under the huge button down shirt. The Asian pointed to Ty and made a face that said, “You’re getting it, mother fucker.”

Ty slipped inside the circle and then bent his neck to one side. It popped loudly. He reached up and pulled the yarn that was holding his dreadlocks up out of his face and they fell around his shoulders. He then slid his shirt off, revealing the lean muscles beneath. He kicked off his Lugz and pulled his socks off. He was standing there in only a pair of loose fitting black khakis. Ty’s eyes narrowed and he looked like he was almost ready to fight. Then he stepped out with one foot and his shoulders straightened. His arms came up and he was in a stance that was just as offensive as defensive. The Asian slid into a ready stance as well.

Ty snarled, “It’s been too long, Miyang.”

“Ah, it has, witch doctor.”

The two circled, chatting like old friends and slipping with the grace of predators from one stance to another, step after step a different deadly design of the body. Then they stepped closer to each other and began to move faster than Kris could see. There was a cloud of pale white and obsidian black, highlighted with gleaming sprays of red.

Ty focused on his opponent and then everything was a flowing dance. Punch, punch, kick, block, twist, dodge, punch, kick, kick; the thoughts were like the blank ideas on a tablet but the actions were like art. Ty would strike and Miyang would grab the arm, then Ty would twist and land a punch that was just quick enough to make it past Miyang’s block. The two moved like fluid, each one trying to strike the other and rarely hitting their intended target. They did not speak and their movements were silent. Kick, block, open hand strike, punch, punch, wheezing pain, twisting of the wrist, leg sweep, jab, jab, kick, block, dodge; Ty could feel the breeze from Miyang’s punches as they whizzed past his face and through his dreadlocks. Miyang made contact and Ty rolled onto his hands and spun with his legs out. Ty was dancing and Miyang was caught in a perfectly timed whirlwind and spit out seven feet closer to the edge of the circle. Miyang recovered his footing before mortals had registered that Ty had been on his hands instead of merely crouched. Kick, block, block, jab, snapping of bones and then healing with the blood, jab, block, block, kick, stinging strike to the ribs. Miyang struck out, his whole body moving with the force of the punch and Ty flew back. The people moaned in awe as they saw the Jamaican soar through the air and land among people at the other edge of the circle. He stood and the two began circling again.

Kris knew that the two had already struck each other more times than Bruce Lee could have hit a dummy in the same amount of time and they were lucky to land a hundredth of their actual strikes. Kris was not sure who would win, or even if they cared that there would be a winner. Kris started moving around to follow the fight better. He shoved past a short girl with pig tails and big blue eyes who looked up at the silent and deadly predator that moved by, concerned only with his friend who was getting pummeled in that fighting ring.

Ty moved in and then he was dancing again. Kris could not think of what to call the strange fighting style. He knew that it was one of the rarer kinds that kids really liked because it looked cool, but it was only effective if you were fast, like Ty, and Ty had known it before any street punk in New York City had ever heard of it. Then Miyang seemed to be flying, Kris knew that he was in a way. When Miyang came down, Ty caught a foot in his groin. Ty rolled to a fetal position from the pain that seared through his leg. He may be immortal, but he could still get hurt.

Miyang kicked Ty in the ribs and Ty was flung to the edge of the circle. Kris ran to him. Ty propped himself up with his arms. Thick blood trickled down from his brow and blood sweat was dripping off his chin. “I don’t think that I’ll be winnin’ dis one, mon. He’s just too damn good for me.”

“What’s the deal with this guy? What the fuck is his problem?” Kris asked. He looked at all the kids and kid wannabes and noticed that they were all pretty. Every single one was good looking. He thought to himself that it made sense for the strongest lion to get the best meat.

“He be an old enemy from my days in Brazil, de early thirties to de forties, mon. He was there doin’ his thing long before dose disco dancing’ mo-foes were kung-fu fighting.” Ty stood up and Miyang grinned.

Ty straightened and then dropped into a kung-fu stance and waited. Miyang walked toward him. Ty looked back to Kris and Kris nodded. It was as if Ty had been given approval to kill. His eyes narrowed and he slung his long dreads out of his face. Miyang stopped. Kris noticed the sudden insecurity in Miyang’s movements as he readied for Ty. Ty’s muscles strained and his dark skin stretched to what seemed its limit with the bulk of muscle that rippled beneath.

Kahmir materialized in a swirl of darkness that rippled and shimmered like ink. Kris barely noticed the arrival, but several kids screamed and pushed back into the crowd. “He’ll win, I have no doubts.” Kris nodded to acknowledge the comment but wanted to see everything.

Ty growled almost inaudibly. Then he released a fury of punches that started before he was close to Miyang, but then Miyang was a bloody mess, strings of red arcing through the darkness from Miyang’s face. Ty’s fists and arms were invisible. Then Ty kicked Miyang and the crunch of Miyang’s chest cavity was so loud that it made everyone stop for a moment of silence as the ribcage collapsed and his body was thrown back. Ty walked over to the crumpled form and ripped the vampire’s head off with his bare hands.

Ty looked around and then walked back to Kris and Kahmir. “I be thinkin’ we need to get da hell outta here, mon. Domitius don’t be looking happy.” Kris and Kahmir looked behind them and saw Domitius moving toward them with a troupe of undead bodyguards and human servants with some heavy duty, vampire gutting gear. Kris stepped forward.

Domitius stopped a good ten feet away. His band of war dogs heeling behind him. “I recommend you leave, now.”

Kahmir pushed Kris to the back, “I have seen what I needed to know. I am going to leave in peace. Do you really wish to have so many die.”

Domitius grinned, “Just you wait, old man. In the end, I will have this city. It is my destiny to control the most powerful city in the world.”

Kahmir shook his head slowly, “Not all mortals revel in immortality and there will be those that decide that being ruled by creatures like you is not freedom. They will rise up and slaughter you and those like you. You’ll bring us all down with you.”

“No, you will see. The promise of an eternal life is too much for them. It is only a matter of having the power to back it, and ridding the world of the mortals who hunt us.” Domitius smiled at Kris.

Kahmir knew from probing the old Roman’s mind that that was the extent of what he knew about what was happening. Someone else was pulling the strings and making the puppets dance. Or someone had erased Domitius mind and filled the blanks well enough that Domitius did not notice. “We leave, let us go and we will cause you no more losses.”

Kahmir, Ty and Kris started walking toward the exit. The crowd watched and then it closed in on itself behind them and the world became one giant party again. Kris did not like what he saw. Ty was still covered in blood and Kahmir was frustrated because of what Domitius did not know. The three walked out into the cool of the night and Ty stopped in the shadows to grab a rag from the alley and began to wipe his hands and arms.

“I fear his memories have been erased and I cannot bring them back. He does not know what he has done and I think that it is part of his design. I think he has covered his tracks very well. I think it may be very difficult to get what we need to know from anyone if he is willing to allow someone to play with his own mind to ensure he reaches his goals. I have no clue what to do now.” Kahmir said.

Kris looked to Kahmir, “How do we find this woman if there are no links from anyone in the city to her? We’ve heard rumors, but now the only definitive link is a blank slate. We’re fucked, man. What the hell do we do?”

Ty patted them both on the back, “I don’t know, mon. We just have to be waitin’ for their next move, I be thinkin’.”

They walked along for awhile and then Kris stopped. Ty and Kahmir looked back at him. “All those people, they all saw what your world is like and what? They’re going to have their minds erased and all that shit that happened back there and not a goddamned one is going to remember. How many are going to die by dawn? What the fuck?” He looked at the other two and saw the look in their eyes. They were the other side. He was the mortal. He would never see things like they did, or perhaps he did once. Even to those that were his allies, he was nothing more than one of the cattle. They were all monsters. He realized that they were confused over his questions. He was remembering a great deal, but he could tell that he was also no longer brain washed. Somehow, they had convinced him that they were good. They were just the lesser of a very dark evil. He turned and walked away.

Finally, he was learning what he was supposed to be. He could see in their eyes what he had been and then what he should become. He was the dark hero. He would be unsung and he would watch from the shadows as everyone else lived their peaceful little lives and while they worried about how to pay the bills and who was supposed to be good looking, he would be like the quiet father who would clean up the messes and step into the background with a simple nod and that knowing combination of approval and disappointment. He was the one who would have to sacrifice the beauty of life to ensure others never saw the darkest and nastiest parts. He heard Ty say something. He did not care. He needed to be alone with his revelation.

He wandered the long way to his apartment. He walked up to the door and leaned against it. He was different after his encounter or perhaps after the time spent alone and unaffected by the vampiric legions of the night. He knew that he was human. He needed to be alone, no away from Kahmir and his six millennia of blood sucking and ghoul farming. He unlocked the door and walked in. He pulled his coat off and threw it into a chair. He walked to his bedroom and opened his chest of drawers and pulled out some clothes. He tossed them on his bed and then went to take a shower. He turned the water on and waited until it was scalding before stepping under the flow. He stood there, letting the water start to burn his flesh before he moved.

He stepped out after more than half an hour. He grabbed a blue towel and began to dry himself off. He stepped into his bedroom and hung the towel on a bedpost. He then pulled on his clothes and sat in a chair. He watched the window and thought to himself about the person he should be. He dozed and saw the face again. It startled him and he sat up straight as he gasped for air. He blinked the sleep away and then set to cleaning his gear, checking his weapons and scrubbing his coat so that it at least was cleaner than sewer for the next time he would wear it. He was still restless despite the weight of his eyelids and decided to go for a walk.

He walked down the street and then stopped. He watched the people walk past him. They had no idea what was going on. He shook his head. They were oblivious to what could be in store for them in the next few minutes. They spent their entire childhoods growing up to believe that the worst thing that could happen to them was ending up broke or in jail. Little did they know that achievement, beauty, knowledge and power were the things that would introduce them to a curse so terrible that it would kill the humanity in them. He started walking after some guy in a suit yelled at him for standing in the middle of the sidewalk.

Kris sighed and walked on. Face after face passed and behind their eyes was nothing more than the muscles that made them look away. He knew that that was one of the key reasons that vampires could walk through the city, along with disbelief, lack of faith, was the new self-conscious and free willed way of thinking. No one would see Ty as anything but an attractive immigrant. Domitius would be a rich eccentric, that young raver with the blonde hair and fangs would be nothing more than a girl with a well paid dentist and odd idea of socially acceptable and all would be nameless forever. What better cover could you have? When all that was paired with the ability to control thoughts and emotions, erase memories, and disappear there was no challenge to their dark and eternal rule. If someone did not stop what was rumored to be happening, the mortals of New York would be enslaved, literally by their own hedonism and greed.

Kris stopped and stepped out of the way to watch a group of women walk by. They were all gorgeous, all seven of them. They were wearing outfits that rivaled anything on MTV and the sheer attitude that reeked of self importance and disregard for all but pleasure was as pure and thick as the blood in a vampire’s veins. It was that very lifestyle that permeated everything and everyone that the vampires would tap into and use to make an eternity of slavery for them, and the benefit of never having to pay a price for the pleasures and the fun. Little did anyone understand the real price, a price that made vampires more corrupt as they aged. To grow as a demon, they would let go of all that was human. Imagine the fear of death for someone who had committed more sins than any mortal could imagine.

Kris started walking again. He stepped through a door into a small bar. He looked around and walked to the bar. He took a seat. The small bar was not as populated as the larger clubs and pubs that most people went to. He liked little places where it was easy to hide and be you. There were people shooting pool in the back and a few tables with more than a few guys sitting at them, but for the most part, it was a quieter place.

The bartender came by and Kris asked for a Budweiser. He got the beer and began sipping. He stared into nothing as he drank his beer. He listened to the background mumble and the playing music. He swirled the beer in his bottle and looked down at the little bit of amber liquid through the opening in the bottle. He took another drink and finished off the bottle.

The dark haired man who had brought his first beer gave him another Bud and went to talk to a blonde with big hair and a chubby face. Kris looked past the trashy looking girl and decided to watch the guys shoot some pool instead of think about his supernatural problems. Two large guys were shooting and both were good. He watched for a few moments and then his eyes fully adjusted to the poor lighting and the haze in the room. He noticed the woman in the back. She was dark, probably of Italian or Greek ancestry he decided, and was gorgeous. She was possibly the brunette counterpart of the woman in his nightmares.

He watched them shoot a few games and drank a few more beers. He was starting to feel better, but the thoughts from earlier were weighing on the back of his mind. After a few more he stood and walked over to the table to get a better vantage point. He was hoping the games might eventually let his mind wander far enough.

He was watching as the big blonde haired guy started to lose his temper. It was gradual, but the guy was built like a brick shit house and wanting to get into some trouble. The other guy was smaller, calmer, a precise and critical type. Kris figured that before the big guy got out of control, his girl would step in to calm him down, or so he hoped.

Kris watched the big guy lose a quick hundred bucks and then get irate. The girl moved from the shadows to try to calm him as Kris had guessed. Standing next to him, she looked tiny, her small hand on his huge bicep. She was pleading like a mother with a crying child. Her thick, dark auburn hair was partly up and the rest hung down to the curve of her ass. She was amazing, with her big, dark brown eyes and perfectly perky D-cups under a halter top that looked like it was made to fit a three year old child rather than a fully grown, well endowed woman. Her holey blue jean cut offs showed her black thong and covered only about the top half of her butt cheeks.

The big guy was as biker as they got and with the tattoos, leather and beard had to be the owner of the Harley Davidson Chopper parked outside. He pushed the girl out of the way with a slight shove. Then he charged the smaller guy like a rhino. It was no contest. The small man was a bloody pulp on the pool table and no one said a word. One gasp was heard from the patrons during the whole squeamish show. The girl backed into the shadows as if it were nothing new.

The big guy looked over at Kris. Kris nodded his head like a disappointed father. The biker was not satisfied with the near kill in front of him and picked up a pool stick in hopes of using it on Kris. “I’m gonna kill you, you little shit.”

Kris stood up and raised his hands, “Hey, man, I don’t want any trouble. Just thought there could have been a better way to deal with it, ya know. Come on, ya don’t wanna do that.”

The big guy took a swing with the pool stick and Kris ducked it, “Damn, dude, you could have taken my head off with that. How about I buy you and your girl a drink and we call it even.” He backed up and sidestepped a downward swing. If that guy connected, it would leave a bigger mark than baseball girl could have managed. “All right, maybe the rest of the night.”

“Fuck off, you bitch. And leave Rachel out of this.” He swung again and Kris dipped below it. It made a zipping sound. The guy was quick, too.

Kris was backed up against the bar and he looked around. A fat woman showing way too much flesh for his liking even after seven beers was huddled in a corner next to an older guy. Kris took a deep breath and sidestepped another swing. “Alright, look man, you do that one more goddamn time, and I’m going to kick your fucking skull in. Got it?”

“Bring it, runt.” The big guy had every reason to believe that he was no contest. Kris had every reason to believe that this guy still might be capable of giving him the ass kicking he did not remember ever getting. The guy swung again. Kris caught the stick and snapped it. His hand stung. His ankle still throbbed dully and his back still hurt. He wished something would heal before the next time he had to fight.

The guy caught him in the ribs with a huge fist. Kris dropped to one knee and grimaced in pain. It was the same place he had taken the bat to the back. The guy hit him in the face and he sprawled onto the floor. He tasted blood. His eyes narrowed. He pushed himself up and felt another blow to his back, but that one did not faze him. He was ready to fight. His buzz was gone. He stood up and saw the half stick flying toward his face. He grabbed the stick and then used his other hand to open the big guys grip. He pulled the stick away, grabbed the man’s hand with his left hand, spun and slung the guy around to the bar so that he was pinned against it and followed through with the stick. The cue snapped across the guy’s face and left a cut. The guy dropped to the floor with a thud.

He dropped the cue and looked around. Everyone returned to their drinks except Rachel and the two guys on the floor. The door opened, Kris looked up to see who it was. The biker had buddies. “What the fuck is this, some kind of frickin’ Stephen Segal movie or some shit?” There were four of them. They were older and looked meaner and one had a chain. He did not want to know what the others had for him.

The bikers moved in for the kill and Kris started shaking his head. The other people stayed away and let the fight play out. Rachel turned away.

Kris waited for them. He shut his eyes and he felt a strange calm wash over him like a gentle breeze. When his eyes opened, it was as if the four thugs were moving in slow motion. Years of fighting creatures that were lightning fast and extremely strong had taught him a few things. He punched the guy with the chain and soon he was twirling the weapon around himself to form a circle of defense. Even bruisers like those guys would be stupid to walk into the middle of a spinning, seven foot length of chain, especially when the guy who was spinning the ends of it was aiming at your vitals.

He connected with one’s head and left a trail of blood from one side of the bar to the opposite wall. The other end of the chain ripped a knife and three fingers from a huge hand and passed through the space previously occupied by a beer gut that looked like it belonged to King Kong. Then he felt a huge mass crush into his back and he fell as pain ran from the place where he had been hit with the bat. He wrapped the chain around a huge booted foot and yanked. The brute tumbled and then he flung the other end of the chain into the man’s face, turning it into a mask of red mush and white chips. If his counting was on, that left one and one wounded.

He stood and swung the chain around, at full length and it snapped around a thick arm and then lashed around a neck and he pulled back and it ripped the man’s throat out. Then he kicked the one with the missing fingers in the face and dropped the chain. He threw five punches, all to the guy’s face and he dropped to the ground. Kris stood there panting, more from the pain in his back than exhaustion, ready for someone else.

He looked around and saw the people cowering and realized that his buzz was gone forever. He could feel the pain in his ankle and his thumb coming back. Then, the pains faded and he looked at the dark eyed girl. She looked scared. He let his eyes close as he realized that he had to look like some kind of demented Army Ranger or something. He laid down three twenties and then walked away.

He stepped out into the night. He spat blood on the ground, wiped his mouth leaving a streak of red spittle through the hairs of his arm and then walked down the nearly deserted streets. Even New Yorkers go to sleep or hide inside during the wee hours. He stopped and grabbed his ribs. He was in pain.

“Hey, you okay?” The sultry but quiet voice caught him off guard.

He turned around and saw the auburn haired girl from the bar, “I’m fine, and shouldn’t you be picking up your boyfriend off the floor instead of checking on me?”

“Maybe, but…” She trailed off and bit her lip. Her eyes dipped and then she looked back up at him with puppy dog eyes.

“Look, you don’t know what you’re doing, so turn around and go back.”

“Do you really think I can now? I just…I needed a place to stay and I didn’t want to go back with him.”

He shook his head and started walking away. He felt a pang in his ankle and a pang in his gut. “You don’t have anywhere to go now, do you?”

She looked at the ground guiltily.

He pursed his lips in consternation, then winced and licked his busted lip. “I guess,” he did not want to say what he was about to say, “you can stay at my place.”

She looked awestruck, her already big brown eyes opening even wider and her mouth opened slightly. He turned away and started walking. She walked silently beside him as he led her back to his apartment. They passed a few people on the sidewalks, but for the most part, the city seemed dead. Kris glanced back to her; she was walking slightly behind him. She had no idea how dead the city really was.

They made it back to his place and he unlocked the door. He walked in and she followed. She stood there, just inside the door and looked around. Everything was dark and the windows were covered with huge, thick curtains that let absolutely no light through. A huge trench coat was draped across a chair. The place was well kept, but not homey. It was not a bachelor pad either. The place was strange, she did not know how to explain it, but it was odd.

Kris walked into his bedroom and looked around, “You can have a seat, if ya like. I’ll be out in a minute.”

She sat in the chair with the coat and felt the objects in it. She moved it out of the way and caught a glimpse of the katana. She looked around again, “So, uh, what exactly do you do?”

Kris stepped out wearing a pair of jeans. His blonde hair was wet and spiked, his face was dripping water. His lean muscles were bulging and taut. His pale skin was covered in bruises and welts. She winced. “I’m sort of a cop, special cases and shit like that. How ‘bout you? What do you do?”

“I used to be a dancer, then I met Curt and decided to quit.”

“Sounds great. Rachel, right?”

“Yeah, but I never got your name.” She adjusted in the chair and pulled her legs up to hug them.

“Kris, Kris Bane.” He cocked an eyebrow and waited for her to smile at the James Bond impression before smiling himself.

“Kris Bane, huh, there’s more to it than that, isn’t there?”

“Don’t worry about it.”

“Why, it’s your name, you shouldn’t be afraid of your name.”

“I am Kristian Alexander Blades-Bane, happy.” He turned and walked into the bedroom again.

“How’d you get that last name?”

“I don’t remember; something about my mom not wanting to give up her name or something.” He turned around and she was standing in the doorway to his bedroom, “How the hell did you get in here without…”

“Don’t have many girls over, do you?” She leaned against the door jam and smiled furtively.

“Don’t have much time for women in my line of work.” He looked at her, raised an eyebrow, then looked away and sighed, “You can go now.”

Rachel slid away with a confused look on her face. She went back to the chair.

After a few minutes, Kris came back in with some blankets and pillows. He started by throwing them all on the couch and slowly he turned it into a bed. “Hey, I know it’s not a king size water bed and well, I keep strange hours so the lightings odd, but this will keep you dry, warm and fed. Pampering and koosh aren’t things you’ll find here, but I’ll try to make it as nice as possible.” He walked toward his room again.

She stood up and walked over to the makeshift bed. For a moment she was still boggled, and then it dawned on her. The badass mother fucker who had kicked those guys’ asses was only a small part of a man who was not the bad guy that she had thought. It struck a chord inside that she had almost forgotten was there. She smiled as she looked at the makeshift bed. He tossed some pajamas from ages ago onto the couch in front of her, “They’re old, but they should be a little more comfortable than a thong and Daisy Duke’s.” He disappeared into his room and she heard him pull back the curtains as light poured through the door.

She picked up the pajamas and held them to her chest for a moment. She had met one of those nice guys that girls whispered about but knew did not really exist. If they did, they were complete dorks and no one could stand to be around them long enough to see the niceties. This nice guy was the reluctant hero type. She smiled before stripping down and pulling on the blue cotton pajamas. Then she crawled into the blankets and pillows and fell asleep.

Next Chapter: Night 7