Jarko Grimwood couldn't remember ever being so bored in his whole goddamn unlife. Not only had the miserable January weather soaked a fine layer of drizzle into every fibre of his clothing and coated him in a thin cloak of freezing mist, stoking his already smouldering temper into a barely-contained suppressed rage, but he'd just run out of cigarettes, too. The tall building on which he was stationed was a perfect vantage point, but its height also meant that it was exposed to the unforgiving winter elements. Of all the places that could have been chosen to sit, wait and watch the street below, it would have to be this one. And if there was one thing he hated, it was waiting.
"Any sign yet, Grimwood?" Asher's voice crackled through on the walkie-talkie he'd been given, jarring the large vampire out of his latest sulk.
"There's shit here, Asher." Grimwood gave a dissatisfied grunt and cast another futile glance at the pavement far below. "Are you sure this is where the cell is supposed to hide out? The only signs of life I've seen so far have been a couple stinkin' junkies and a rabid fucking dog."
"All the more reason to suspect their hideout is close. It's isolated, deserted – so it should suit them perfectly. Our experience with previous cells has shown that they prefer the more run-down and less-frequented areas. Vermin like to hide in the shadows."
"I don't have time for a lecture, dickwad. I'll tell you if anything interesting shows up, alright? Over and out."
With an irritable snort, the brutish vampire clicked his walkie-talkie off and returned his gaze to the dark streets below. Why did he have to get picked for such a shitty job? And why did his immediate boss for this operation have to be stuck-up, tight-assed Asher? Sure, he enjoyed the chance to hunt alone and shed some blood, but these dull hours of inactivity only served to make him restless. He wouldn't be out here at all if their last scout hadn't been stupid enough to get killed by the very vampire hunters they were now tracking.
It had been three weeks since the cell had struck. Danica Talos had lost seven of her best enforcers in the attack, and even Grimwood himself had come too close to a silver stake for his liking. The resistance group had ambushed the vampire leader and her companions as they'd emerged for their nightly feed, leaving a scattering of blood and ashes in the falling snow. Merry Fucking Christmas.
It had been the vampire hunters' most devastating attack yet; they were growing far too dangerous. Talos had even diverted resources from her latest project to fund an all-out counter-attack on the resistance cell, an effort which had so far proved less than fruitful. So far, all they had to show for their efforts were a roster of fallen names and far too few zeroes on the company bank account. They hadn't even discovered the hunters' hideout yet.
"Fucking vermin!" Grimwood muttered to himself, smoothing back his damp hair with a sneer and checking his pistol for the hundredth time. No matter how sharp your teeth were, you couldn't go wrong with a loaded Magnum. His own dental work bore testament to that fact; his two vampiric fangs had been replaced with steel replicas after he'd lost his original canines defending Danica Talos just over a year ago. And what had she given him as a reward for saving her? A slap around the face for his bull-headed actions and just enough money to cover the dental work.
Maybe, just maybe, he'd impress her one day. And when he did...
"What the shit?" Grimwood's head jerked up as he registered a slight movement on the street below. Squinting, he made out the vague shape of a human figure darting from shadow to shadow; a quick sniff of the night air confirmed that the figure was full of warm, living blood. Human. And probably one of the hunters he'd been sent to spy on. Cursing under his breath, he fumbled with his walkie-talkie and held his finger over the button, preparing to impart this development to Asher - but then he thought better of it, thrusting the piece of electronic equipment into a side pocket and smirking. Talos' brother could go fuck himself. Tonight, Jarko Grimwood would sort things out alone.
"Greedo? Acer? I'm on my way." Lindsey McAllister glanced about nervously as she approached the concealed entrance of Operation Helios, whispering into her sleeve where a small mic was attached to her left arm. It was a simple way of ensuring secrecy, but it worked; there would always be at least one member of thecell inside their hideout, and anyone who wanted to enter had to pass the voice recognition test before they could be admitted. They may not have had thesamestandard of resources as othervampire hunting groups, but they'd done pretty damn well with what they had, and so far, they hadn't been caught on their own doorstep.
Then again, up until now, they hadn't really pissed off Jarko Grimwood.
"Goin' somewhere, little lady?" A harsh growl came from nowhere as strong fingers closed about Lindsey's wrist, breaking the delicate mic with a horrible crunching noise. The bulky man frowned as he peeled back her sleeve, and he swore as he realised what he'd done. "Shit. Front door key, right?"
"G-get away from me!" Lindsey stammered, the fingers of her other hand already reaching for the canister of garlic spray which she kept stashed in her coat pocket. A thousand thoughts sped through her brain, and none of them were pleasant. She instinctively knew what this man was, knew that his undead instincts drove him towards blood, even as she was struck with the horrified realisation that the bloodsuckers had somehow discovered the cell's whereabouts. "I mean it, you big freak! Get away from me, or I swear I'll dust you! I've got a warehouse full of friends who'll be out here in a second, and they'll stake you before you even know what's happening..."
Grimwood had to laugh at that. It was always the same with these young female types; empty threats and half-whimpered promises, uttered in fear as last-ditch attempts to buy back a few precious seconds of life. He wasn't buying any of it. Using his supernatural strength, the large vampire wasted no time in dragging the girl quickly down one of the many cluttered side alleys, one of his meaty hands clapped to her mouth before she had the chance to scream or cry out. That was the advantage the vampires had when it came to tracking down vampire hunters - the hunters themselves favoured run-down shitholes, which made it easier for the bloodsuckers to track them down and kill them.
He had it all planned out now, though. He'd bring back this young woman as a gift for Danica Talos, unconscious and trussed up like a Christmas turkey. They could wring countless secrets from her, toy with her as they desired, until she out-lived her purpose and could be eaten by them as slowly as they wished. Maybe he could feed her to Pac Man as a special treat. That way, he could prove to Asher that he was more than the muscle-headed idiot he made him out to be. All his plans, though, were cruelly dashed as Grimwood's natural survival instincts kicked in.
He surrendered to the Thirst.
It began as a slight twitch in his nose, the undeniable urge to draw back his lips and bare his steel-capped fanged in a hideous sneer; then followed a hungry growl, a disgusting, guttural snarl which sent shivers of fear down the girl's spine. Desire coursed through Grimwood's body, but this was not the burning lust of passion, nor the primitive need for combat - this was bloodlust, his hunger, his need to feed on her lifeblood and gorge himself on her very essence. All thoughts of taking her prisoner vanished as a red mist took hold of him. In one swift movement, he grabbed her neck and thrust his fangs down towards her jugular, a red spray staining his shirt and dripping from his lank hair; and there, in the shadows, he fed.
Sometime later,Grimwood came to his senses, bloodstained but sated. All that waiting on the rooftop must have made him hungry. A second later, though, he glanced down at the lifeless corpse beside him and swore profusely. He hadn't meant to kill the bitch! He'd wanted to take her back alive, so that Asher could question her and find out more about the cell's methods of operating - but instead, he'd given in to his hunger and drained her dry before she could even lead him to the cell's hideout. Sighing, he stumbled to his feet and headed back towards the vampire stronghold of Phoenix Towers.
Shit. Danica was going to kill him for this.