Chapter 2 #2
Both the watch and my hand are shoved into my back pocket. The pain in my chest doubles (didn’t think that was possible) and I cry out. I cough up more of myself onto the pavement. I can barely think.
I can’t even sense if Collin is there.
“You’re wasting time!” The elf’s voice is high-pitched. “The artifact requires incredible inner strength. He is in no condition to use it!”
Rafa fires another shot at something behind us, down the street. Velvet footsteps in the distance stop, and then spread out.
“Then you better get him in condition, since clearly you either can’t or won’t leave. I’ve seen just a hint of what that artifact can do. If you don’t want to be torn limb from limb, release him from the Obligation!”
There’s a long moment’s pause. A seething exhale. Then:
“Fine. But you better save me.” The elf’s moist lips grind into my ear. “Alvin Alonso, I release you from your Obligation to deliver me the watch. Our pact is null and void.” His voice is full of anger—and fear. “Now show me you deserve my mercy!”
The pain and self-hatred evaporate immediately.
I still feel exhausted, but my head clears.
I slide my hand off the watch in my pocket, and Collin’s soft hand-stitched leather boots materialize on the pavement in front of my eyes.
I twist awkwardly onto my back and lift my gaze up his gray wool trousers to catch his bright blue eyes.
He’s happy to see me and just as adorable as ever.
Then his face constricts with horror.
“Oh, Jaysus!” he says, taking in my crumpled form. “What did she do to you?”
His eyes sweep around, registering the elf, Rafa, the street—and the many dark figures slowly converging on us from fifty yards away.
“Holy shite, what’s all this?”
“Collin… Help us…” My words barely rise above the level of breath.
But it’s enough. He glances up for only a second, and then he has the answer.
“Hallowed ground.” Collin points ahead, determined, urgent. “There’s a church just around the corner through that yard. Rafa’s fast enough to get you there in time, and it will keep them out!”
I repeat what he says, as best I can. Rafa throws me over his back again, and we’re on the run.
Behind us, there are over twenty vampires, spread out.
When we were sprawled on the street, their approach toward us was not so much a charge, but a creep.
I suppose facing an armed Hunter makes even bloodlusted paranormals cautious.
But now that Rafa has started his sprint, they all bolt forward at full speed.
Predators and prey. A pack of wolves after a wounded buck.
And they are faster than he is. Especially since he has to carry the deadweight of my chunky butt.
Rafa must be running at close to twenty-five miles an hour, and they still catch up to us.
Their deformed, animalistic faces snarl just a few feet away.
Rows of white fangs too big for their mouths.
Hungry red eyes. Then one lunges forward.
A pale, gnarled hand with six-inch claws thrusts toward my face. I reflexively raise up my arms for all the good it’ll do me. Rafa kicks something hard in front of us without stopping—and the flesh on the vampire’s hand flays back away from me, as if skinned by some invisible force.
The monster shrieks and recoils just outside a framed wooden doorway, the bones of his hand and upper forearm fully exposed.
I glance up to see we’ve burst into a largeish room. We must have crossed the threshold into the church. Collin was right. Like sunlight, holy ground appears to be another vampire weakness.
Rafa drops me to the ground and spins around, discarding his shotgun and raising a stake in his fist. Dozens of savage crimson eyes now glare at us from outside the building. The vampires pile on top of each other, heaving forward, desperate to get in.
But their writhing bodies are held back more than a foot away from the threshold. They can’t move past it. We’re safe.
I lie on my side on the dirty wooden floor, not wanting to move.
We seem to have gone in through the back of the building, and now we’re in an unlit vestibule.
Weathered coat rack. Bulletin board with colorful but faded announcements.
The smell of old wood, furniture polish, and lingering incense.
There’s a door to an office on the side.
A narrow hallway behind us leads deeper into the church.
The elf—chest heaving, blood streaming over the gashes in his armor—collapses in a corner. The floorboards creak under him. His sword, still frosty, lays at his side on the hardwood. “Well done, everyone. Top marks. Now what?”
“Shut up. I’m thinking…” Rafa says.
“Think faster. Several of those creatures might be sticking around to guard us, but at least a dozen of them just left—to summon human allies, I would imagine. Tell me, Hunter, will you be as comfortable using your shotgun on them?”
Rafa’s body tenses and his head snaps toward the fae, clearly wanting to give him a piece of his mind. “For fuck’s sake—”
But on the way, his eyes land on me, sprawled on the ground. And just as quickly, his fury dissolves. “Christ…”
He kneels next to my shoulder. “Alvin… how are you doing?”
How am I doing?
I’ve now rolled onto my back in the middle of the floor.
I can barely lift my arms. My body feels like it’s been run through a meat grinder, both inside and out.
My throat is raw from sour stomach acid I can still taste.
I’m exhausted. And I'm covered in my own bloody vomit, which is crusting on my face.
“I’m fine, Rafa,” I say, not wanting to be any more trouble than I already have been. I try to smile in a reassuring way.
He knows it’s bullshit, but he’s not pushing me. Instead, he leans in, voice quiet. “I’m out of shotgun shells. The elf is useless. We’re not getting through those vampires, and it’s hours until dawn. Your, uh, friend wouldn’t have any other miracles for us, would he?”
I glance over at the handsome blond spirit who only I can see. He is pacing around the room, touching things, like he’s taking inventory.
“Collin, we’re still in trouble,” I say. My voice sounds very rough.
As soon as I turn to him, he appears beside me.
“I know. And you’re badly hurt. It’s affecting your senses, which means I’m only getting so much.
Feeding would sort everything”—I get an elbow under me to sit up to protest, and he immediately raises his palm, conciliatory, which allows me to settle back down—“but I know that’s off the table.
For loads of reasons. If we had more time, we could call in help, perhaps even from law enforcement, but—” His head jerks toward the side office.
I hear something wet splash against the wall just outside the building, a sloshing splatter followed by another and then another.
“Shite. They move so fast. And they’re clever. ”
“Rafa,” I say. “Look out the office window. What are they doing?”
He jogs into the side room, not appearing half as tired as me or the elf. “There are three of them. They’ve got a large red jug with a spout that they just threw to the side, and now one of them is… Oh, fuck.”
I push myself up fully. With a whoosh, a flickering orange glow springs up behind the panes of glass in front of Rafa. It’s quickly followed by the acrid chemical stench of burning gasoline.
These vampires are clever. They’re setting the church on fire.