(32) Trevor Wallace – Dhampir

Half hour before sunset. I’m over the wall and into the house. Upstairs. Vik sitting there. Pete and Mychael with him. I have to give them points. They have several empty bottles too. Along with the bagged blood.

I don’t say anything. In case the Vampyre is watching. Listening. Which he probably is. Finger to my lips. They all nod.

Taking out my knife. Gripping Vik’s wrist. Slicing along the vein. Pete holds a bottle under it. Blood flows. Doing the same to Vik’s other wrist. Mychael there with another bottle. It doesn’t take too long. Bottles fill. Vik pales. Weakens. Eyes closing. I touch the artery in his neck. Barely a pulse.

I whisper to Pete. Mouth against his ear. “Discover me killing him.” Pointing to the door.

He understands. Drops Vik’s wrist. Goes to the door. I hold up a hand. He waits. When I feel no pulse I nod.

“What the hell,” he shouts. Racing towards the bed.

The chase is on. Pete yells obscenities. We struggle. He lets me break free. I race to the door. Glance over my shoulder. Mychael is holding one bottle to Vik’s mouth. Force feeding him. More spills than goes in. My last glimpse. Mychael looking panicked. Pete too for a moment. Then Vik swallows once.

I’m down the stairs. Two at a time. Pete after me. Out the door. Over the wall. I catch a glimpse of a figure. Invisible to all but me. Smile as I run down the alley. Pete close on my heels. At first. Then I lengthen the distance. But not enough to loose him.

Zigzagging through alleys. Always ten, twenty feet ahead of him. Reaching mine. Eventually. My building. Slamming through the door. See Pete stop just as I close the door. Looking puzzled. Good man. He’s playing it right.

Racing up the stairs.

The Vampyre stands there. In the doorway to Del’s place. Smiling evilly.

“Too bad you didn’t complete the job. Your young friend will pay the price for that.”

He steps aside. I see Del. Lashed to a chair. Another Vampyre kneeling beside him. Blood oozes from bites on Del's shoulders. His arms. His chest. The bastard lifts Del's arm. Bites into his wrist. His other hand in Del's crotch.

“He’s having fun.”

I try to move into the room. Reaching for my sword. The Vampyre stops me. Grabbing my arms in a death grip. As I struggle he says, “He’s still alive but not for long. Watch as he drains him. He seems to be enjoying it.” He forces me to look. Del is moaning. His eyes start to glaze over. Imminent death and sexual desire combining.

“You should have killed Vik,” the Vampyre whispers. He’s pressed against me. Behind me. Holding me tightly. Watching. I feel his excitement. “Tell your friend to move away. He tries anything you’ll both suffer the same fate as the young man.”

I twist my head. See Pete just yards away. Gun aimed at the Vampyre’s head. I know the creature can’t be aware of this. Only that he heard Pete there. Felt him there.

“Shoot,” I call out.

The Vampyre starts to turn. To use me as a shield. Pete fires once. Twice. Again. His aim is true. But. Pain flares. Even as the Vampyre falls. Hot, searing pain.