Kate was looking at him. Although he hadn't looked for her and had purposely avoided to look toward her, Seth knew where she was in that moment.
Just like he knew that she was looking at him, he could feel her eyes on him.
He knew that she wasn't alone...that Clay was with her.
He had seen the cop climbing the stairs that led to the upper floor of the club...and since he had Chris at his heels, it was only logical that Clay would deal with Kate.
The reason he wasn't on the upper floor beating Clay into a bloody pulp for daring getting too close to Kate was that she was safe, for now. From vampire killers at least...they both were until the real fight began.
Seth looked around, he knew that it wouldn't be long, now. The club was full and vampires and vampires killers alike were in position, just like the two thugs at the entrance and the maids, placed in strategic points in the club.
Seth had to give credit to the vampires of that town, at least they were guarding their fucking perimeter!
They would soon stop that fucking charade, he hoped...and the vampire killers would do the same. He took a sip from the glass he was holding, the still full glass. He hadn't drunk a lot so far. He could hold his liqueur and if that had been a normal patrol, he would have probably drunk a couple of shots of booze; not that night, though. He had to keep it together, there was too much at stake.
He cast a glance at Chris: just like him she was leaning against the counter and was flirting with a couple of vampires.
Seth had noticed that she had barely drunk from her glass.
He smiled as he replied to something the vampire bitch was telling him. She had kept touching him, becoming bolder and bolder as the minutes passed, she was all but rubbing against him...and Seth had let her.
He was playing by the rules...to have the chance to fucking ram a stake through her rotten heart.
That bitch reminded him too much of Santanico Pandemonium, she moved like her, there was the same air of sensuality about her, even the voice, was so much like Santanico's. He still recalled the way she had gloated after she had killed Richie.
And he hated her tight red dress, it reminded him of the one Santanico had been wearing in one of his nightmares.
He took a look at the vampire opposite him, she was going to be strong when the fight began...but he wasn't really concerned about her strength.
He just wanted her hands off of him, and her body turned into a smelly green puddle!
She took a step toward him, further shortening the distance between them, she was as tall as he, and he could clearly see her eyes.
Did they really think they could fool anybody? They could rub their bodies against theirs as much as they wanted, they could laugh, talk and smell like humans...but their eyes and the look in them was unmistakably inhuman.
That bitch saw him as food. And in her dark eyes Seth could glimpse the wait...and the hunger.
Yet, he allowed her to circle his waist with an arm and close the distance between them...and he circled her neck with his arm.
Only then did he look up, toward Kate.
He had avoided to look at her, trying to focus only on the mission...on what it needed to be done.
Just like he had suspected, Clay was next to Kate: they were talking and from the tension he could see in Kate's body, he guessed that they weren't having a pleasant conversation.
No one else would probably even notice how tense Kate really was, but he saw the way she was holding the beer's bottle and the light twitch in her fingers.
She moved and Seth smiled thinking that no one would probably notice the weapons she was hiding underneath her coat.
Unlike many vampire killers', Kate's clothes' weren't that different than the ones she usually wore, only her hair was picked up, twisted in a bun held together by a wooden stiletto.
He looked away, he really didn't want to start looking like a fucking lovestruck teenager!
Yet…for a moment, just a moment…he did feel breathless, especially when he felt her eyes on him and unable to resist he turned and met her smile…her watery smile.
Six years before he had witnessed as she lost her whole family…and kept fighting.
He had pushed her to fight, he had forbidden her to cry…and she had obliged, in fact he didn't think he had ever seen tears in her eyes.
She herself had told him she didn't have any tears left.
Yet, he could see tears in her eyes, now, as Clay talked to her.
And somehow he knew he was causing them. Yet, even then, especially then, he couldn't see sorrow in her eyes.
Just love. Love for him.
And tears, for him, probably caused by Clay's words.
Kate shook her head, as if to shake away the tears, and attempted another, more watery smile, but before he could do anything, like, for example, shoot Clay in the fucking head, take Kate, get out of the Cleaves and forget about the whole mess with the bloodsuckers, the music in the bar faded together with the lights.
The voices, the noises stopped at once, and he found himself following Kate's gaze that quickly moved toward a platform where a dj had been playing such horrible music that Seth had been wishing he would just turn into a vampire so that he could beat the shit out of him before staking him.
The dj was gone...but there was a man on the platform, now...rather, a vampire – the vampire...those fucker's boss.
He was tall, muscular, dark haired, dressed in an expensive black suit.
He looked like a businessman, and Seth had no trouble seeing satisfaction and intelligence sparkling in the vampire's brown eyes.
We might be in trouble, here...
He thought looking around, seeing all the vampires taking position.
The vampire onstage took a microphone and in a soft, almost hypnotic voice said, "Ladies and Gentlemen, welcome to the Cleaves! I hope you've been enjoying your evening..."
The vampire next to him, the brunette bitch strengthened her hold on his waist and Seth just had to take a look around in the club to notice that all the vampires in the club had pretty much taken position to strike their preys when the vampire on stage had talked.
So, he was the boss...that didn't come as a surprise. He was the one that was going to drop that fucking charade.
About damn time!
He looked at the vampire on stage, he saw his lips stretching in a smile, and his eyes filling with real joy as he said, "I really hope you did, since...you are all about to die!" The vampire didn't wait for their reactions and went on saying, "Lights, please!"
It was a matter of seconds and Seth wasn't surprised...after all it was always a matter of seconds.
It had been a matter of seconds six years before, when he had fucked up with his gun...it had been just few seconds...but it had been enough to change his life forever.
And every night after that, it had always been a matter of seconds, istants...enough to make the difference between living and dying.
It had been a matter of seconds with Kate...to leave her alone in Mexico, and six years later to get back into her life.
Few instants and his senses so honed that he caught every single movement in the room at once and could be ready.
Few instants...to strenghten his hold on the vampire bitch as he closed his eyes at the vampire's words.
Few instants...and then flashes of light, that he perceived through his closed eyelids and he could hear the cries of human and vampires alike filling the room.
A matter of few instants to turn his hold on the vampire in a vice strong enought to snap her neck and buy him some more time...to stake her in the dark.
Ever since he had come to the club, he had stayed with his back to the wall, so that no one could sneak up on him.
Sure, he considered, as he used another stake against someone, hopefully a vampire that he had felt launching at him, he hadn't expected to be fighting in the dark.
That was a first, even for him.
He opened his eyes: light at least. He he had just a moment to adjust to the light as he saw vampires viciously attacking humans and the other vampire killers fighting them, their faces so similar: masks of hatred and determination.
Another vampire, a blonde woman whose face was so disgustingly covered with green , launched at him, she had been swift, and Seth quickly moved the stake from his right hand to the left and used it to thrust it into her...fuck! between the vampire's tits; the fucker had thrown herself at him: she had been a blonde little thing, her face covered with greenish tumors that had made him wish for another fucking blackout.
The vampire staggered in surprise, then she tilted her head down noticing the hole between her breasts. Seth could feel the vampire's heart pulsing in his right hand and used the stake he was gripping with his left to pierce blondie's heart and just cocked an eyebrow at the little shit, as the surprised look didn't leave her ugly face, not even when she dropped on the pavement.
Seth threw the vampire's heart on the pavement, and gripped the stake tighter just before he dodged another vampire's attack, another woman – what the fuck was that shit anyway? – she was a red-head, as tall as him, built like a brick wall. She snarled at him, showing little, sharp, piranha like teeth and Seth moved, jabbing her in the face when she attacked him, making her step back.
Taking advantage of her momentary confusion, Seth threw the stake at her, aiming right at her heart. The vampire let out a hoarse scream, before dropping to the ground, atop the blonde vampire's body.
Not losing one moment, Seth took the gun from his waistband, and shot five times, taking down as many approaching vampires with blessed bullets.
Granted, he hadn't expected the beginning: fighting in the dark had been a first for him, he had to give those son of a bitches that…but he was getting on board with the plan, he fired his gun twice, while with his left hand he was already taking other bullets from his pocket.
Yes, those first few seconds of pitch darkness followed by blind light had been a first for him. Too bad they hadn't changed shit
As always it was a matter of seconds. All his doubts, the plans, the doubts had been wiped away in a few fucking seconds.
The fight had begun…and he had fought in worse conditions.
And there was something else: he had a mission to accomplish that night. Whatever it took.
His name, the one he had chosen for himself was Vincent. When he was alive…a long time before, his name had been…something else, something that didn't matter.
He was known as Vincent. He had travelled for a long time, after his house had been destroyed. He had seen groups of men…of *food*, becoming strong, becoming organized…growing in number.
He had seen those men, those sack of meat and blood forgetting their roles, forgetting who was in charge, really.
He had seen vampires starting to be afraid….of humans, men whose skin and limbs they could tear apart without breaking a sweat.
Vampires…afraid!
He had seen chaos, he had seen unbalance and vampires too stupid to think about defending themselves. He had seen vampires too stupid to grasp anything but the basic need to feed…and the primal instinct of fear; vampires too stupid to remember that they were stronger than humans. They were immortals, they were powerful.
The solution to their problems had been actually simple…humans who were hunting them were growing in number more and more
The only thing vampire had to do to survive was to do the same…to be too many for humans to even think about defeating them.
He had travelled for a long time…seeing small towns and metropolis…he had been silent, lethal, true to his nature: a predator, a winner.
He knew not many vampires understood him, his way of thinking…they weren't used to thinking on a bigger scale. They had forgotten what it mean to be human, to be food, to be food. He hadn't, maybe that was the reason they didn't get him, they didn't understand him.
Not that it mattered to Vincent, he didn't care about them understanding…it had been enough to be heard. What he had needed from other vampires had been means and to be obeyed, and they had been only too happy to oblige…so lost and desperate for a direction.
He had carefully chosen the place to lay his nest, to repopulate: Meadows Lyne, a town, not too small, but cut away from bigger centres. He had carefully chosen the places to use to repopulate their kind, and he had worked hard so that they were perfect for his goal.
He had taken his time, making sure not to attract unwanted attention at the beginning, he hadn't wanted to fuck up his plan. He had known humans eventually would have noticed what was going…but it hadn't really concerned Vincent.
He had also taken into account that humans that hunted them would try to get together, but it had been a smaller concern: Meadows Lyne's vampire hunters had been few and scared. He had thought they would be asking for help…and they hadn't disappointed him.
There were many of them that night at Cleaves…and he was pretty sure there were many of them in the other spots scattered throughout the town.
There were many of them…and they were strong, trained…but they were just food…and his new family, the vampires he had made and the others were just as strong and trained.
Humans were food…their food. Their bodies were frail, easy to break, even vampire killers', just like the other humans', their blood was just as good and easy to drink, like the others…of all the others
There was a fight going on that night at Cleaves, and from his position, hidden from the others, Vincent could see everything and everyone, unnoticed.
They were fighting…and blood was spilling: inviting, warm and thick…and if he hadn't joined the others was just for a slight sense of worry that had been tickling him for some minutes.
Some of those humans were really good fighters…they were, in fact, too good. Some of those humans were dangerous. Not all of them, of course…but they were strong enough that he was worried.
He took a moment to give another look to the humans who worried him: the stronger, among them, was probably the man with long, black, coat. He was fighting near the bar, his sweater couldn't hide the lines of his tribal tattoo.
He had been fighting…and killed literally with his eyes closed, his back pressed against the wall, an almost preternatural ability to sense danger around him, to dodge attacks, a deadly aim and en even more deadly focus.
The other were good as well…but they were somehow weaker, he could sense their fragility, he could clearly feel their fears…but the same couldn't be said about the man who was tearing hearts out his children bare handed, littering the floor around him with bodies.
He watched him move with the confidence and cockiness of someone used to deal with death, to kill, to shed blood…and for a moment Vincent was almost afraid.
He clenched his jaw, ignoring that feeling: it had been fear that had crippled vampires, pushing them into hiding, making them going against their very nature. Fear had made them forget what they were.
He focused his attention on the other humans, the stronger among the vampire killers…and he couldn't help smirking when he glimpsed the girl with long brown hair picked in a braid who was fighting on the upper level of Cleaves.
He knew that girl!
Kate…Katie…
He had to admit she had changed since their last encounter – and wasn't the world really a small place?
Six years before she had been just a scared teenager, whose skin still reeked of the blood of the vampires she had killed in that dive: the Titty Twister. She had been there, helping to destroy his home, his family.
Six years before Kate…Katie had cried, screamed and bled for him. She had sobbed, begging him to stop when it had become too much for her and her body had kept fighting even as her mind slipped away, light going out from her eyes, as he punished her, branded her inside and out.
He hadn't bit her…and yet he knew the taste of her blood. He hadn't made her a vampire…not her. Not after what she had done to his home, to his people.
She had had to live, he had made sure she survived that night…and what he had done to her.
She had to live…alone in a world that didn't make sense, a world harsh and tinged in blood. She had to be alone, marked and broken…like he had been at the time.
She had changed…he could see that she had gotten stronger, quicker, her reflexes sharp, her body gracefully moving as she used the vampires' bodies as weapons, leverage and shields. She might have changed…but Vincent recalled how her fear smelled like…and it was there, underneath the salty smell of sweat, the pungent one of adrenaline running through her.
Had she recognized him? Six years before he had used his real face…not the human mask he was still wearing.
Kate was afraid…his Katie who had screamed and screamed for him in Mexico and who was going to cry and scream and beg for him that night..alongside the other humans.
He would finish what he had started that night, he decided. It would be fun to see Kate, who moved like it was a complicated dance, and killed effortlessly, quiver and beg under his hands again.
He went back to look at the tattooed man fighting near the bar. He had to find his weak spot, because everyone had one, once he did he would love to take his time peeling his skin off, inch by inch.
He still had time, though, he thought, silently leaving the room, unseen.
They had just gotten started…it was only the first wave.
The night, the real one, had just begun.