Chapter 7:
Twelve seconds is how long it takes a human in freefall to reach terminal velocity. The vampire took three seconds to realize what had happened and an additional two to explode out of its skin in a frankly disgusting display.
It was way more disgusting than even Breed's trilobites. That was also saying an awful lot since Breed's power was pretty close to hitting a lot of primal fears in the first place. The flesh and skin seemed to slough off and a hideous black-furred, snub-nosed, humanoid bat took its place. Its hair was matted from what almost seemed like something resembling amniotic fluid. Alexandria hated it.
The fact that it was not actually human simply made things a little easier. Contrary to the reputation she cultivated as a dark knight in the underworlds of the United States and Canada, she didn't actually enjoy killing. For one, the press would destroy her if she actually indulged in blatant murder outside of rare circumstances, for the other, there was still a tiny shard of the little girl that had grown up believing the world was inherently good.
So she regretted what she was about to do even while she knew that it was the most efficient way to showcase her power. That was also partially justified by the fact that this creature had both struck first, and was potentially dangerous to her.
At exactly the twelve second mark she blurred downwards and cut the transformed bat creature, vampire, by the lapels of its military uniform.
She could hear the snap as its neck broke from the sudden deceleration, especially since she wasn't just catching the body but also pulling upwards with significant strength. She took a moment, barely a fraction of a second to cup her hand around the little pixie, still in her pocket, and whisper to it, "You may want to get behind me when I re-enter negotiations."
The pixie popped her head up, recoiled partially, and then stilled when she realized the vampire was dead, with huge eyes, she nodded jerkily. Satisfied that the pixie would be out of harm's way Alexandria returned to the group of vampires she was stalking.
They were not where she had left them exactly, instead, they had booked it. However, due to the fact that they had prisoners and hence were forced to take the path instead of attempting to scale the sheer rock and throw her off the trail.
It was a matter of moments to catch up to the new leader, which was still the Jaguar Warrior. She didn't waste a moment before throwing the broken but transformed body of the Colombian officer at the Jaguar Warrior's feet.
He startled back at her sudden appearance from literally thin air, since she appeared from the steep dropoff instead of indulging in the semi-normality of landing further down the path and then walking to meet the approaching vampires.
She could see the Jaguar Warrior's eyes flicker over the body, no doubt trying to assess what killed him. Due to the nature of his death, there was no outward indication. Alexandria knew from long experience that the unknown was the most dreaded thing of all. If the Jaguar Warrior had ample time to examine the corpse perhaps he would've been able to notice the lump on the back of the neck and realized that the cause of death was a broken spine. As it was, all he would be able to conclude was that his compatriot had just up and died.
"Your friend," Alexandria spoke coldly, gesturing slightly with a tattered and sleeved arm, "Was most impolite, I'm sure that you'll be more receptive."
Almost as if to accentuate her words, her little pixie friend flickered from her pocket and around behind her head, disappearing into her messy black locks. The vampire's eyes flickered from the little pixie, back to the broken body laid at his feet.
His eyes narrowed, he rolled a word over in his mouth for a moment, shifting his obsidian-toothed club as he did so. Finally, he spoke in what was badly accented English, it sounded like it was a second language, "What do you want, spirit? We have leave to travel through these lands."
"You are the Red Court, yes?"
"Yes?" The Jaguar Warrior responded. Alexandria noticed then the four men in suits behind the Jaguar Warrior. The look in their eyes was recognizable to her. Mastered thralls. A dreamy almost expressionless look was in their eyes, for all that they clenched their guns tightly.
The other revealed bat creatures periodically clenched and unclenched talons. The military officers, Colombian military to be specific, looked alert, but upon closer attention, their movements were stilted, jerky. Like someone or something using a body shape which they were accustomed too. Two of them did have rifles, FN FAL's, if she wasn't mistaken, which packed quite a punch.
"That man," she pointed at the man in the manacles, who had been watching everything attentively, suddenly paid way closer attention, his eyes narrowing over his gagged mouth. Now that she was watching from a different angle, Alexandria was able to note that he had blue eyes and a nasty looking cut angled down over his grey robes. It had been bandaged but badly. Even looking like someone that should be suffering from acute blood loss, the man looked oddly alert.
"And those women. What are you doing with them?" Alexandria continued, acknowledging the other prisoners, who had the same dreamy, almost dazed, look on their faces as the men in suits. Thralls. Now the question was, what made him different?
The vampire almost turned to look at what she was pointing at but stopped himself at the last moment. Keeping both eyes on her, the vampire replied haltingly, "The prisoners?"
Alexandria graced the Jaguar Warrior with a nonplussed look.
"Um," the Jaguar Warrior frowned, "They're prisoners?"
"The question I believe I asked," Alexandria replied, "Is what are you doing with them?"
"They are our prisoners," the Jaguar Warrior seemed to gain confidence, "We do not answer to allies of the White Council!"
White Council? That was kind of out of the blue. So now there was a third group, called the White Council. Probably what the prisoner belonged to.
She opened her mouth to reply when the Jaguar Warrior acted, trying to strike at her with his club while flinging a handful of coarse grey sand into her face. Alexandria slammed the club aimed at her head away, ignoring the agonized scream of pain as the Jaguar Warrior arms fractured in addition to the club splintering.
Alexandria tasted iron on her tongue. Was this supposed to be a poison of some kind? Alexandria, despite her best efforts, was unable to recall a toxin that tasted like iron. Did people here just carry around iron powder to throw?
She shoved the Jaguar Warrior to the ground, ignoring his startled growl as his flesh bulged. The thralls and military officers opened fire. The bullets had no effect, as she expected. She had been shot by hundreds, maybe thousands, of bullets in her time. As the gun's magazines clicked empty and they fumbled to reload she brushed her eye, letting a flattened bullet fall away from her eyelid. She knew her suit would be littered with even more holes, but any hopes for adequate decency had kind of evaporated at this point.
She did not allow them to finish unloading, instead, the air cracked as she pushed forward, her hand closing easily around one of the thrall's guns. Crushing the barrel with the same effort it took an ordinary person to ruffle a tissue.
Between the time it took them to blink she had already disarmed half of them in the same manner. One of the Colombian soldiers scrambled for a knife, the grey sheen as it slid free from its sheath indicating it was made of iron. How very interesting, Alexandria thought to herself.
The guns were modern, the Jaguar Warrior had a functional obsidian club and actually expected to use it. The modern soldiers, vampires in disguise they might be, had iron knives that went out of style long before Rome. An exercise in contradictions.
One of the vampires lunged forward, rudimentary wings flapping in its wake as it attempted to strike at her body with its talons. Its spittle trailed from its mouth.
Alexandria backhanded it hard enough to crack its cheekbones, it stumbled to the side and off the edge of the path. All the vampires paused for a moment to listen to their other member shriek all the way down.
Alexandria snorted and spoke, "At this point, it seems, negotiations have broken down. You're hopelessly outmatched."
She heard the crunch of stone behind her and would've whirled and caught the knife she heard being slipped from its holster but now was the time to cement her invincibility. The knife was driven into her back, where she felt it snap and the shock travel back up the knife to the wielder, who snarled in pain.
Then she did whirl around, catching the knife as it dropped. She tested the blade against a finger. It was actually iron.
"Iron. How…" She searched for a good word, "quaint."
The vampires broke. Slowly they all just decided to back away, "prisoners are yours," the Jaguar Warrior informed her, cradling his broken arm and backing away.
The man in the manacles attempted to say something but his speech was muffled by the gag. The vampires holding his chain just dropped it and backed away, trying to put as much distance between Alexandria and itself as it could.
"Your thralls remain," Alexandria decided to dictate.
One of the Colombian soldiers glanced at the Jaguar Warrior who looked very conflicted but nodded. Soon enough, all of the vampires had disappeared into the blizzard, continuing along their route but now lacking their prisoners and thralls. The thralls just stood there, blank looks on their faces. The man in manacles took the opportunity to glance at her, before beginning to try and undo his binds.
Alexandria cocked her head to the side, still standing atop the snow, and listened closely. She could swear she heard hounds in the distance.