Giving the Devil His Due
Disclaimer: I don't own Marvel, New Line Cinema, or "Blade the Series". Another drabble just for fun. No money has changed hands, so no harm's been done!
Summary: Marcus/Krista A/U one-shot about love turned to hate and ultimate vengeance. Takes place about 10 years into the future. This is told from Krista's POV.
Author's Notes: This just a re-post. It's a cleaned up version of the earlier story I submitted. After I re-read it, I found a lot of mistakes such as missing words, grammatical errors and spelling faux pas. And I was appalled! So I edited it. Sorry folks, I guess it was the result of too much coffee and not enough sleep!
For those of you who have already reviewed, there's no need to do it again. But for those that haven't, I invite you do so. Good or bad, I welcome all critiques.
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The night is young and the moon is full. The luminous nocturnal celestial body bathes the world below in a soft golden glow. But I prefer the shadows. I am creature of darkness after all and that's where I stay, cloaked in the secretive gloom of the night.
I've been tracking my mark for about an hour now, as I soar gracefully from rooftop to rooftop, keeping the bastard in my sights. Not that I need to see him, not really. The heady scent of his recent kill has led me to him. Even way up here, the smell of fresh blood wafts through the air. I can almost taste it, the smell of it assaulting my senses, tantalizing me.
Instinctively, I slowly lick my lips. Damn my thirst! I struggle against it, as I always have. I have to keep a clear head, must stay calm. But my hunger betrays me, mounting with each passing second; I can feel it even now.
Suddenly, I crouch behind one of the many large air-conditioning units located on top of this high-rise building. I remove my army-issue knapsack off my back, open it, and then reach deep inside. My hand snakes around the silver stakes, guns and my UV and liquid silver rounds to wrap itself firmly around the familiar plastic squishiness of a blood bag just recently lifted from a local hospital.
"I'm a fucking thief," I scold myself.
That's what I've been reduced to. A bloodsucking thief breaking into blood-banks, stalking the halls of medical facilities in order to quench my thirst! But I guess it's a hell of a lot better than murdering someone.
My sharp teeth rip the top of the bag open. Desperately, I place it into my mouth and begin to greedily gulp in its red sticky contents. I'm literally chugging the stuff down, like a drunken frat boy at an all night kegger.
"God this is nasty!" Regrettably, I admit to myself that there's still nothing that beats the taste of warm fresh blood. Even so, its unpleasant replacement is better than nothing at all.
After finishing my hasty meal, I ditch the empty bag, and then wipe my mouth with the sleeve of my jacket. I grab my backpack while I glance at my watch.
Time to go to work.
I slip on the knapsack then quietly walk over the edge of the roof, perching myself on its ledge. Crouching down real low, I prepare for the long descent down the side of the building.
And that's when I see him standing ninety stories below me. The man, no wait scratch that. The thing I came here to kill tonight.
Marcus Van Sciver.
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Narrowing my eyes, I hone in on him from the lofty heights of Marcus' very own building, the Starr Tower. I still can't get over that one! The bastard had the nerve to name the goddamned structure underneath my feet after me!
He must be getting sentimental in his old age. Doesn't matter though. It still won't stop me from doing what I came here to do.
I guess in some ways I can't say that I blame him. After all he thinks I'm dead, pulverized to ash by Blade. And that's exactly what I wanted Marcus to believe. But nothing could be further from the truth.
As I look down at him now, he's just exiting a limo. Same smug face, same icy blue eyes. I have to hand it to him. He still looks good for vampire of his considerable age. Hell, you just had a birthday, didn't you, shit head?
Too bad it will be your last.
Very soon he's surrounded by his ass-kissing minions. They are all clamoring up to him like dogs anxiously awaiting scraps from the master's table. But Marcus pays them no mind as he brushes past them to enter the ground floor of his fortress of glass and steel.
Well, that's my cue. Down I go.
"Okay Krista, this is it. You've waited ten years for this night. Don't fuck it up!" I tell myself.
Still crouched on my perch, I inhale deeply, and after that I take a dive right off the ledge. One mid-air somersault is all it takes. Afterwards, a perfect landing right on the glass surface of a wide window pane. Facing the city street below, I can feel my hands adhere to the smooth building façade, anchoring me. Then I proceed to scale the side of the structure on my hands and knees like an iguana climbing down the trunk of a tree. Neat trick, actually. A little something I picked up after reading "Dracula" by Bram Stoker. Some would argue that the novel was just a work of fiction, but the Vampire Nation regards it as a historical record, although some of the facts are a bit distorted. Names changed to protect the "innocent" and all that nonsense. Who knew?
Slowly I make my descent, ever watchful to stay out of the sight of the occupants of the offices and rooms I pass along the way. The wind has picked up, whipping my long brown hair about my face.
I've gone down about thirty floors and that's when I pick up his scent again.
He must be close. Good.
The lower I climb the stronger Marcus' unique stench is. He always did wear too much Hugo Boss cologne! I guess some things don't ever change, do they?
I'm getting closer now, I can feel it. I follow Marcus' signature fragrance while I rail against the memories it stirs up in my mind. Then at long last I arrive at my destination.
"Well, I guess this is my floor." I say aloud.
Not too long now and then it will all be over.
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After disabling the alarm, I create an entry into the tastefully decorated bedroom suite via glass cutter. Quietly I make my way inside. I've already armed myself with two semi-automatic handguns. One's loaded with UV rounds, the other with silver nitrate bullets.
And then it hits me again, Marcus' overpowering scent. Yep, this is his room all right.
I can hear the shower going. Marcus must be in there, just lathering up. Perfect, he's vulnerable, defenseless and naked. With guns in hand, I carefully walk across the room, my boots sinking into the plush thick carpet with each step I take.
I pass a mirror along the way and catch my reflection. Decked out in my Para-military garb, I look like a mercenary or a terrorist. The expression on my face is hard, determined. For a moment I'm reminded of someone else that had the same lethal intensity.
Blade.
Finally I reach the bathroom door; I can still hear the shower going. Slipping one of my guns into the pocket of my black leather jacket, I reach for the door handle and turn it.
Luckily for me it's unlocked.
Slowly, I push the door open, trying to make as little noise as possible. I sneak past the threshold, I'm now inside. I retrieve the gun out of my pocket.
God, this bathroom sure is steamy! But Marcus always did like to take hot showers. He found the contrast of his cold-blooded physique and the scorching water raining down on him to be invigorating.
My eyes can scarcely make out the figure of a man just beyond the steam and frosted glass of the shower door. I decide to wait until he's done. I want him to open the door before I start shooting. I want him to know that I'm the one about to pull the trigger before I ash his sorry ass!
It seems like an eternity, but finally I hear him turning the handle to shut the shower off. Just as expected, the water abruptly stops running. I lick my dry lips in anticipation, adrenaline courses through me as I stand at a mere distance from my prey.
My slow beating heart skips a beat when the shower door starts to slide open, slowly, oh so slowly. Each of my index fingers tightens around the triggers of my dual weapons.
Come on, come on, you son-of-a-bitch! Hurry it up! The door can't open fast enough for me.
Then at long last the door has completely slid open and Marcus Van Sciver emerges from the shower stall in all his naked glory. His trim well toned body is still dripping wet. The droplets of water glisten on his pale white skin. I suppress an internal groan as I notice how gorgeous he looks, even after all this time!
Damn, it's not fair! This would be a hell of a lot easier if Marcus were fat and bald. But no, he still looks like the beautiful Adonis-like vampire I had fallen in love with all those years ago.
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Yes, I had fallen hard for him all right. Even though I knew he had killed my brother Zach, I still felt myself being drawn to him in spite of my need for vengeance. Then he had turned me, setting off a chain of events that had caused me lose the rest of my family. Mom and Uncle Pat each paid a dear price for my foray into the world of the undead.
And yet I couldn't bring myself to hate him. Why? Was I that lonely and desperate that I needed to cling to the one person that was the cause for all of my misery?
No, I tell myself. I didn't fall for the vampire but for the man he once was. It was Marcus' humanity that appealed to me. And it was in our most intimate of moments that he would reveal that side of himself only to me. His soulful tenderness when we made love would move me to tears each and every time. It was this side of Marcus that I had loved the most.
But then there was his other half: the ruthless killer with the Machiavellian plot to do away with his enemies, the Pure Bloods. I had also seen first hand how he would kill without a thought, how he harvested human beings for their blood. Driven by ambition and an unquenchable thirst for power and blood, Marcus stopped at nothing to get what he wanted, including me.
"I was intent on having you." That's what he had told me all those years ago. It had been at the Conclave in Toronto right before the Pure Bloods arrived.
And I believed him. Even at the moment when his most evil plans were about to come into fruition, I wanted to believe so desperately that he loved me. I needed to believe. After all, he was all I had left in this world, even if Marcus was the sole the reason for my being alone.
Grant it, I was no perfect angel either. I had been the Day Walker's way in to Marcus' world, his informant, his spy. True, Marcus' most trusted lieutenant, Chase, had betrayed him to the elders of Chthon, but I had injured him more deeply than Chase ever could.
I had broken his heart.
Chase's treachery he could understand, even accept. He knew what she was from the very beginning of their association. She had been a backstabbing social climber with a blind ambition that matched his own. The only thing they had had in common was their mutual hatred for the Pure Bloods. And it was this hatred that would bring them both the glory they thought they deserved.
Boy was Marcus ever wrong about that bitch!
But he was even more wrong about me. Dead wrong. And yet, even when he had found out that I had sold him out to Blade, and after all the times he had me followed to the Day Walker's base of operations, Marcus still held out hope that I would somehow come around.
I guess I did, in a way.
I remember vividly that after I had beaten the crap out of that platinum blonde shrew, I had run back into the inner chamber of the Conclave.
To my horror, I found that Marcus had been knocked down onto his back, and his weapon was way out of reach. Blade had been hovering above him, with his sword poised to strike Marcus in the heart. I continue to recall how terrified I had been for Marcus.
I just couldn't have allowed Blade to kill him, even if his demise would have avenged the deaths of my family, I just couldn't see him die.
I loved him. God help me, but I did! Although, it wasn't until that crucial moment, that I had realized just how much.
So I had called out to Blade to distract him, to give Marcus a chance to escape. And that's when I felt a bullet sear through flesh of my shoulder. Marcus could have left me there to die and made his getaway alone.
But he didn't.
Instead, he had cried out my name, and before I could react Marcus had seized me into his arms and we went crashing through one of the windows.
Afterwards, when he and I had been scouring around Blade's bombed out lair, Marcus did finally confront me. He wanted so badly to make me accountable for my duplicity. I had seen his need for retribution burning in his eyes, causing Marcus to savagely turn on me. Finally, he had me within his deadly grasp, his hand squeezing my throat.
It all could have ended for me right there in that hollowed out warehouse. One more squeeze and it would have all been over. I distinctly remember shutting my eyes, praying that Marcus would be quick.
Then, for a brief instant I had sensed his hesitation. Had he reconsidered his decision to send me to oblivion?
I waited. But the end for me never came. Blade had come for me instead. He and his human weapons smith, Shen had returned to their former stronghold to salvage what they could, catching Marcus by surprise.
Enraged, Marcus had flung me aside sending my body crashing into a nearby beam. Quickly I had sat up, slamming my back against the concrete pillar. My eyes had opened wide as I watched Blade engage Marcus in battle. Rapidly, they had taken to the air, flying toward each other with blinding speed. Finally Blade and Marcus had bodily collided into one another with great force. With fangs bared, the immortal enemies growled ferociously as they tried to take each other apart.
"Marcus!" I remembered crying out. But by then I had felt myself being dragged away. It had been Shen. I tried to fight against him, but when the jagged edge of his knife sunk deeply into my thigh my struggle had come to screeching halt.
As he continued to pull me out of the warehouse, Shen had said gruffly, "You're lucky that wasn't silver, bitch! If it weren't for Blade I would have ashed you by now!"
Shortly after that, I was forced into the backseat of a Mercedes sedan, which I later found out, had once belonged to Marcus' master architect, Tucker Moffat.
After what seemed like an eternity, my heart sank when I had watched Blade come out of the derelict building, alone. I had thought the worst. But soon I learned that Marcus had somehow escaped. Inexplicably, even after he had tried to kill me, part of me was still elated.
Marcus was still alive.
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In the months that followed after that fateful night, Blade, Shen and I went underground. We stayed hidden in the shadows while the two men re-established themselves in a new city. Of all places they could have picked, they finally had set up shop in Seattle, Washington. But I was soon to learn that Marcus Van Sciver had settled there as well.
And that's when my real training began. Yeah, I had combat training during my stint in the armed forces, but according to Blade, that wasn't going to be enough to take down Van Sciver. So under the Day Walker's tutelage I had perfected my martial arts skills, sparring with Blade for hours until my muscles ached from exhaustion.
My knowledge of weapons had also been expanded and I could now handle everything from guns, swords and explosives.
And oh yeah, I was provided with all the serum I could handle. In exchange, I helped Blade take out a few vamps now and then, putting my new skills into practice. All the while I had kept asking when we were going after Marcus. But I had always received the same response.
"You're not ready yet, Krista! You may think you can take him out, but I can still smell Marcus' stink all over you!" Blade had snarled at me in annoyance.
And Blade had been right. Despite my tough-as-nails persona, I was still in love with Marcus. There hadn't been a day that had gone by that I didn't think about him.
Then the night had finally arrived when we were going to go after Van Sciver. He had been an elusive bastard. He too had been in hiding, on the run from the Pure Bloods who had been nipping at his heels.
But after almost two years of waiting, Marcus had re-emerged from his self-imposed exile, ready to take control of Chthon once more. Word on the street was that Van Sciver had finally made his peace with the elders.
Of course the Aurora virus had been the great equalizer, shifting the balance of power in Marcus' favor.
Shen had received some Intel from a reliable source that Marcus was going to throw a big bash to celebrate his ascension as the all-powerful leader of the House of Chthon.
And Blade had decided to crash the party.
But after all had been said and done, we had only managed to find ourselves in an ambush, surrounded by some lower level vamps.
Marcus was nowhere to be found.
And when the dust had settled, we only had Shen's death and a couple of ashed bloodsuckers to show for it.
Once again Van Sciver had gotten away and Blade had blamed me for it. He had gotten it into that thick skull of his that somehow I had warned Marcus, gotten word to him that we were about to strike.
Despite my vehement denials, Blade had said, "You and I are done!"
And just like that, our shaky partnership was dissolved.
When Blade had ferociously advanced on me, I knew that I needed to move like I had a purpose. If I hadn't, Blade would have dusted me for sure.
So I ran and have kept on running every night ever since, always looking over my shoulder, moving from city to city, avoiding Blade and hunting for Marcus.
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Then at last, after ten long years I have finally found Van Sciver living the nightlife in Miami. The reason for my hell on earth was living it up on South Beach while I've been forced to exist like a rat in the underground.
No matter, now I've got Marcus right where I want him.
I continue to watch him step out of the shower. He still hasn't seen me yet. Good. Let him enjoy his last few minutes on earth. Let him think that he's still safe. I raise my weapons and aim them right at him.
Marcus reaches for a towel which he wraps around his waist. And while he dries his hair with another one, he freezes in mid-action when he hears the click of my guns as I pull back the hammers.
"Hello lover, how ya been?" I say slyly.
The sound of my voice causes Marcus to whirl around. The expression on his handsome face is actually worth its weight in gold. It's a new look for him, all wide eyed, and slacked jawed. And I gloat; finally I've got a leg up on him. He's totally surprised to see me and it shows.
"Krista?" he whispers hardly believing his eyes. He's got the look of man that is seeing a ghost. "B-but how? I thought that Blade…"
Aww, how cute, he's babbling.
"…that Blade had staked me? I'm afraid not, sweetheart!"
I see fear in his eyes. That's another first. Boy oh boy, I'm on a roll.
Marcus steps towards me, arms outstretched. "Krista, put the guns down. Really there's no need for all this hostility." He's cooing to me now, trying to pacify me with his honey dipped words.
I merely sneer at him and raise my guns even higher, aiming straight for his heart. "That's far enough, Marcus. And save your breath, asshole. I've heard enough of your bullshit already!"
When he sees I mean business with the guns he stops moving forward, but Marcus is still looking at me with those deceptive baby blues of his.
"Krista, please listen to me. You don't know how much I've missed you! I mourned for you, you must believe that. When word got back to me that Blade had killed you, I was completely devastated! I thought I had lost you for all time, but now here you are, standing before me looking more beautiful than ever."
His sanctimonious lies are too much for me to take. "You mourned for me? That's funny, because I distinctly remember that last time I saw you, your hand was around my throat, trying to strangle me!"
Marcus actually looks pained when I remind him of our last encounter. God, he's good, always the consummate actor!
"Krista, Krista, Krista, you must understand, I was angry. You had betrayed me to my greatest enemy! Or don't you remember? But I would have never been able to kill you. No not you, Krista."
"Gee, I'm flattered! I guess that's why you left me to face Blade all by myself!" I roar at him. I'm seething now.
"I didn't know what had happened to you!" he argued. "The last I had seen of you was when Blade's little errand boy had dragged you outside. I had assumed the worst, but as I made my escape I saw you being thrown into Tucker's car. I searched everywhere for you after that night! But it was like chasing a ghost. Your trail had simply vanished into thin air."
I smile coldly at him. "You must not have looked hard enough it seems. I was always right under your nose, even in Seattle."
Marcus' eyes open wide. "So it was you that had attacked our headquarters there! I thought I had seen your image on the surveillance cameras, but I was never sure. I had my security personnel go through hours of video tape! But they found nothing conclusive."
I say nothing. I just want him to shut up long enough so that I can kill him. The more he says, the more I loose my nerve.
Then he steps forward once again, in a panic I pull the trigger. But the bullet misses Marcus by a few inches, instead shattering the mirror behind him.
However instead of cowering in fear or pleading for his life, Marcus just smiles.
"You missed me." His confidence borders on cocky arrogance. And it pisses me off.
"No I didn't. Consider it a warning shot. You won't get another one. Now do me favor and back the FUCK off!"
Marcus obeys with a playful expression on his face. Oh I get it; he thinks that this is a game. That I'm playing army commando for shits and giggles. Well he's about to find out that I'm as serious as a heart-attack.
Placing his arms out in front him, he obeys my command by slowly backing up against the bathroom counter.
"Okay, okay, you win Krista. See? I'm as far away from you as possible."
"Good, that just gives me a better target to aim at!" Once again I pull back the hammers of my guns.
Marcus is panicking now; I can see it in his face. "W-wait, just wait a second, Krista, please be reasonable! Look, I know that being on your own without the protection of any of the houses, or even Blade for that matter, must have been rough on you. Allow me to help you. Out there on your own, how long will you last? If Blade doesn't kill you another slayer will. It will only be a matter of time. Face it, Krista. It's time to come home."
I scoff at his false promises. "Come home to what, Marcus, to you? I had a home, asshole, a real home, with a mother, a brother and an uncle! I had a promising career in medicine, but you took that all away from me the night you murdered Zach!"
"Zach…?" Marcus speaks his name with casual indifference. His British accent emphasizes his snobbery.
"Yeah, Zach, my twin brother, remember him? I saw you put a bullet between his eyes, Marcus! That's right! I saw it all happen in my After Death experience. When you turned me, all of your memories became mine! I SAW YOU SHOOT HIM! Now allow me to return the favor!"
Marcus pleas for his wretched life, "Krista, you don't have to do this! Come back to me, please. I've missed you!"
More lies, nothing more. "Name one reason why I shouldn't lay your sorry ass to waste, Marcus. Go ahead I dare you!"
He levels his gaze at me, boring his blue eyes into mine. And for the briefest of moments, I'm spellbound by their brilliant intensity.
The next words that Marcus utters make my cold blood run colder still.
"I love you, Krista, since the night we met. And even after I learned of your treachery and then your alleged demise, my love for you has never been diminished. I honored your memory in thought and deed. Please believe that. I even named this very building after you, so that it would always remind me of what I once had, with you."
Crap! I can actually feel my resistance weaken, my defenses are slipping away, bit by bit. He loves me? Ten years ago I would have killed to hear those words from him. As I struggle with my conflicting emotions, my right hand starts to shake.
Marcus has taken notice of my current state of indecision; I can tell by the way he's raised one of his eyebrows. But being the smooth operator that he is, he pretends not to notice.
He continues with his tender soothing dialogue. "Baby, I want you with me. I need you. And I know that you need me too."
Oh shit, when did he get closer to me? Why didn't I detect his movements? No, this is all wrong! This isn't the way I had imagined it would happen! He wasn't supposed to be oozing with Old World charm, or look this good! His lips are now only inches away from mine and they look so tempting and inviting.
Involuntarily I lower my weapons as I'm mesmerized by his eyes. And then all at once he grabs me by my upper arms. With the forward momentum of his body Marcus slams mine into the white tiled wall of the bathroom. I drop my guns in the process as I hit my head hard on the solid surface.
Marcus is now growling at me, his razor sharp teeth are bared in a ferocious looking snarl. The weight of his body has got me pinned me to the wall. I can't move. I'm trapped!
But as I struggle to get away, I can see Marcus' face transform back into the loving man from a few moments ago.
Affectionately, he cups my cheek with the palm of a cool hand, caressing my face. I don't understand, isn't this part when he rips out my heart or at the very least tears my head off?
No, he does neither. Instead he looks deeply into my eyes and whispers, "I love you."
And before I know what's happening, he lowers his mouth on mine, laying his claim to it. My eyes close of their own accord. And soon his demanding tongue forces its way in, invading my mouth and wrecking havoc with my senses. In spite of my better judgment, I wholeheartedly give in to his hungry kisses. His lips and tongue devour my mouth completely and I revel in the sensation of it. I bring my hand up and run my fingers through his still wet hair, relishing in the feeling of having his skin so close to mine.
And my cold heart melts. I do love him. I guess I never stopped.
After a few minutes of passionate kisses, Marcus pulls away to look at me. He's left me gasping for breath, a fact he's proud of judging from that arrogant little smirk on his face.
"You see, Krista," Marcus starts to say. "You do need me."
I coyly look up at him, displaying the shy demureness of a woman very much in love.
Marcus has gotten to me. He's made me see the error of my ways and that I truly belong with him.
Or so he thinks.
You see, the whole time I was kissing Marcus I had reached behind me with my free hand to slowly pull out a silver stake. I had slipped it into the back of my pants just moments before breaking into his room.
Now, as I lovingly gaze at Marcus, I lift the stake high up in the air behind him, ready to plunge into his back at any second.
Then on a turn of dime the expression on my face goes from ardent lover to an avenging bitch on wheels.
"Need you, Marcus?" I say, my every word is laced with hate. "The only thing I need you to do for me is to DIE!"
I don't even give him enough time to react. By time Marcus realizes what's happened, I've already stabbed him. The stake is now clean through his back, and jutting out the other side of his body. And I know the tip has pierced his heart.
Still holding me in his arms, Marcus turns his tearful eyes toward mine and manages to say one word.
"Why?"
And then right before my very eyes I watch him start to slowly crumble to ash.
Marcus is gone. And I had killed him.
And I weep because of it.
As I watch his disintegrated remnants go tumbling to the tile below, my back slides down the wall behind me onto the floor. Then I curl up my body into a pathetic sobbing heap.
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For a long time afterward, I just sat on that cold tile floor with Marcus' ashes scattered all around me crying my eyes out.
I had wept for Marcus, that's true. But I also shed my share of tears for Mom, Uncle Pat and especially Zach. At long last, they had finally been avenged. My vengeful quest was over. Finally, after all this time of watching and waiting, I have given the devil his due.
My victory over Marcus is now complete. Then why does it feel so hollow? Do I feel any better because it? Did his death do anything to bring back the ones I loved so much and lost?
And then it strikes me, I now know the reason for my emptiness. It's staring me right in the face.
With Marcus gone, I am now truly alone.
Fresh tears start to stream down my cheeks. I want so much to continue to wallow in my self-pity, but the unexpected sound of voices outside Marcus' bedroom door tells me that I've over stayed my welcome.
It's time to go.
So I grab my guns off the floor and get on my feet. I haul ass out of the bathroom, moving as fast as I can to make it to that window I had sneaked in through. Someone is now impatiently pounding on the door, jiggling its handle, calling out to Marcus as they do so.
I'm almost at the window, but before I can make it through, the door suddenly comes crashing down and I come face to face with three of Marcus' bodyguards. And all at once they raise their weapons against me and start firing away.
I rapidly return their fire and thanks to my excellent marksmanship I manage to dust two of them with my UV and silver rounds. But the third vamp proves to be somewhat of a challenge. Built like a brick shithouse, he reminds me of a sumo wrestler. But his size and width are deceptive.
The son-of-a bitch still moves with the same cat-like agility like all vampires do.
And because of his special talents, he has been able to dodge every single round I've fired at him. Pretty soon, I'm out of ammo.
Shit!
And Mr. Sumo Wrestler is still coming at me like a charging rhino. I stand my ground and put up a good fight, throwing some my fancy marital art moves at him.
But he doesn't seem to be impressed and pretty soon he's got me by the throat. He lifts me off the ground with the greatest of ease. I feel myself dangling helplessly as his hand starts to choke me. He's cutting off my air supply, and if I don't do something fast, I'm going to be toast!
Think Krista, think!
And that's when I remember: both of my guns are made of die cast silver!
I lift up my pistols as if I was going to shoot him in the face, but instead, I jab the barrels straight into his eyes with all the strength I can muster!
And he's down for the count! He's ash before I can count to ten. With no one holding me up in the air any longer, my body hits the floor with a resounding thud. Thank God the plush carpet cushions my fall.
Uh oh, I hear more voices coming from the direction of the hallway outside. Probably more bodyguards, but I'm not going to wait around here to find out. I throw the guns down, I no longer need them. They've served their purpose well.
I get up off the floor then run towards the window. I hurtle myself through it before the "welcoming committee" arrives.
I go sailing through the air, falling almost seventy floors to certain death, if I were human. But thanks to my vampire abilities, my hands catch the flagpole that is jutting horizontally out of the front of the building. I promptly swing up and over it three times like an Olympic gymnast before I send my body racing towards the giant black canvas awning just above the twin revolving doors of the Starr Tower.
The awning catches my fall, but I can't stick around here lounging in the makeshift hammock. The vampire cavalry would show up soon with guns blazing. So I do a back flip off the canvas canopy and land on the ground below on my feet.
With the speed and agility of gazelle, I book it, putting as much distance between me and the scene of the crime. After running about twenty city blocks, I find myself in the seedy part of town far away from the bright neon lights of South Beach with its art deco charm and Caribbean flavor.
I duck into the first dark alley I come across to catch my breath. I poke my head out from time to time to look up and down the street, making sure I wasn't followed. And then after a few minutes I start to feel safe. I allow all the muscles in my body to relax.
But when I hear a familiar voice say my name, I'm gripped with fear.
"What's up, Krista?"
No, it can't be! How in the hell did he know where I was?
Slowly I turn around. And when I see the recognizable black trench coat billowing in the warm Miami breeze, the silver weaponry crisscrossed on his broad chest and the signature dark sunglasses that he even brandishes at night; there is no mistaking the wearer's identity.
It's none other than Blade, the Day Walker.
My already slow beating heart stops its palpitating altogether.
I can't move. I can't breathe or even articulate a single word. I just stare at him with terror filled eyes.
Then he speaks to me again. "Is Van Sciver dead?" he asks. But I'm pretty sure he knows the answer already.
I nod mutely still terrified at what Blade might do.
His full lips curl up into a little smile of self-satisfaction. Then in a blink of an eye, Blade swiftly reaches behind himself to unsheathe his long sword with one hand. With the other he has made quick work of keeping me pinned against the grimy surface of a brick wall.
"Good," he tells me, acknowledging my handiwork. Then with a savage roar he brings the razor sharp edge of his sword to my throat and announces to my great horror.
"Now it's your turn!"
THE END