Harpies. Why did it have to be harpies?

Henry was dressed more for clubbing, in a burgundy silk shirt, black leather jacket and black jeans, than for vanquishing repulsive hell-spawn. The 500-year-old vampire had run-ins with these creatures in the past. Besides having two inch claws, sagging grey skin and moldy wings, they were pretty much naked. Imagine seeing your great, great, great grandmother in her coffin after, oh let's say 150 years, and you get the picture. Maybe you'd even understand the oedipal urge to gouge out your own eyes. He had a sadistic satisfaction in knowing this was Mike Celucci's first time running into these noxious creatures.

Celucci gave Henry a quizzical look when he noticed the slow, enigmatic smile spreading across the vampire's face. Justifiably, the vampire's smile did nothing to reassure the detective.

Oblivious to the undercurrents swirling around her, Vicki was totally on task. "All you guys really have to do is keep those two harpies occupied while I sneak upstairs and get the ceremonial knife."

"Keeping the harpies busy sounds a little bit more complicated than you make it sound, Vic." Mike added wryly. He was off duty, wearing jeans and a crisp white shirt, though sporting the ever present tan duster. Henry couldn't quite manage to hold back a smile, and silently he was in agreement with Mike's assessment.

They walked across the rain slicked street to a side entrance of the warehouse. It took little time for the harpies to appear.

"Holy crap," explained Mike as he saw the harpies descend on them like bombers on a run. They were just as Henry remembered them. Gray scaly skin barely covered the bones of their long torsos. Their faces resembled dusty Halloween masks, pulled tautly over razor thin cheekbones and pointy chins. They screeched like raptors, exposing mouths full of conical teeth that looked like they spent every night filing them to sharp points.

Henry took a sidelong glance at the cop and drolly remarked, "Maybe I should've mentioned that they are a bit hard to kill." Mike had already drawn his gun and pumped an entire magazine of bullets into the harpies - with no effect.

"That would have been really helpful to know before we entered the warehouse, blood boy." Mike snapped back

"I only know two ways of killing them. Either we cut off their heads, or we can kill them with lead. I think it has something to do because they fly and it's heavy. Too bad they don't make bullets out of lead anymore." Henry pulled out his sword in the scabbard hidden under his dark jacket.

Mike glanced at the vampire and rolled his eyes. "You could've told me we were going to stop at Swords-R-Us before we got here." He glanced around frantically, spotting a pipe a good 3 feet long. "I sure hope this thing is made a lead, if it's not, it should still do to put a dent in that thick skull of yours Fitzroy."

While the boys were having all this fun, Vicki decided it was the perfect time to climb up the catwalk that led to the office on the rear wall of a warehouse. She wasn't sure what she was going to run into, but she was hoping that it was not another Harpy. Of course it could always be worse. What was that fire demon in the Lord of the Rings? Oh right, a Balrog. She wondered if Seattle had dealt with one of those suckers before. It amazed her how much she had learned since getting her demon tats. But seriously, she was sure she would have heard about a balrog attack. Better to file that one away to ask Henry later, she mused to herself.

Tucking a stray strand of hair behind her ear, Vicki turned the knob on the door at top of the stairs very slowly.

Mike decided he was not having fun. The pipe was damned heavy and his arm was beginning to feel the strain. He'd need rotator cuff surgery if this kept up. He had to admit that the pipe had its advantages. Given that the harpies were airborne, Mike was able knock his harpy back. Problem was, this strategy was merely defensive. He didn't believe he was making any headway to vanquishing this particular spawn from hell.

Henry was having his own problems. His sword was shorter than Mike's pipe – Mike had to smile at that thought. The harpy had the annoying habit of winging just beyond the vampires reach. Mike had to admit, Henry could move as fast as lightning and given the way he could jump, the detective decided he would rather not play the vamp one-on-one in basketball.

Henry had a strategy. The problem was the harpy's head was not cooperating. Every time, he thought he was in range, his winged nemesis would take one beat of her wings throwing her back out of his reach. The draft from her flight backward would drive him back too. Henry's undoing came during one such pas a deux.

TBC...

Tell me what you think. This puppy is all written except for the last chapter. Inspire me!