Part Eight

Ty headed out. Seeing 'Becca always made him edgy. She was so small, and still every bit his Tinkerbelle, and whenever he saw her, he wanted to clap his hands and wake her up. She was a constant reminder of why he had to grow up.

He felt disturbed by her, more than he had any right to be. She was the one in the coma, for God's sake. Not that he believed in such a blind concept as God anymore. That was the reason  he only had prolonged visits on Wednesday night. He wanted a little more today. . . another vampire to mummify. Any other vampire. Maybe, he'd call up Mark and get the latest scoop. Hopefully, he'd have a job for him. He strode towards the nearest pay phone and put in some change.

The phone rung twice, then fell silent. "Ravensbane. Ty." Ty said.

"Hey, Ty." It was a girl. "I'll get Mark for you. Slay sweet, Hunter."

"Grow with the oak, girl." Ty laughed and waited.

"Ty? How are you doing?"

"Fine." Ty laughed. "I hit two this morning and I'm looking for a little more action."

"Where'd you hit them?"

"Down over on Calder's street."

"Oh," Mark sighed. "Those were some real nasties. We were putting together a team to hit them this weekend. Why did you ever leave us?" Mark raised his voice mockingly.

"I wanted to do some freelance. So tell me, you got me a job or what?"

"Of course. The evil just doesn't die. I got a vamp/shifter team down on Bentley Avenue and 80th. Real renegades. I think they're responsible for the some of the recent disappearances."

"Ah. So silver and wood. . . I can take care of that for you. By the way, I need another standard crossbow quarrel. You've got the measurements."

"Yeah, we got a file on your weaponry a mile long. No problem. Standard fees?"

"Damn, you guys are killing me. . . " Ty sighed heavily on the line.


"Hey, you damage your own weaponry. . . You pay for it. All of it, now that you're freelance."

"That's okay. Vampires have wallets, too." Ty laughed. "Gotta go." He hung up the phone. It was nearly six o'clock. He just had time to grab his weaponry and get down to Bentley, he only hoped it didn't take too long to restring his bows.

~         

Ty looked at the warehouse, both the vampire and shapeshifter were headed for it. . . And they were carrying a human girl. They were probably going to hole up with their meal for the night. He slipped in through a loose board and positioned himself at the very top of some crates. He carefully unloaded his duffel bag, placing everything in easy reach.

The vampire laid the girl down on the ground. Good little leech, get her out of the way. The shifter and vamp seemed to be arguing about something. Oh well. I guess they won't hear themselves die. . . Ty laughed silently.

Ty pulled back the string of his hunting bow, and put up an arrow. It had a silver head and a wooden shaft but at this distance, the arrow would go deep. . . he didn't need a wooden head for the vampire. So the question arose. . . Vampire or shifter. . ?

He didn't hesitate. He buried the arrow to the shaft in the shifter's chest. Then another. . . He was worried that the arrows were too deep, the fatal silver had passed almost all the way through it's body, and the remaining wood shafts were no impediment to the shifter's regenerative abilities.

He exhaled in relief when the shifter grabbed at the arrows in shock. The poor stupid creature was trying to pull them out . . . When animal instincts killed, Ty thought ironically. Any reasoning being would push the arrows the rest of the way through. These were broad arrows, with wide, barbed heads. This shifter was just rearranging his internal organs with the sharpened silver arrow head. The shifter exhaled in a gasp of surprise, and its chest stilled. The shifter was dead.

He threw aside the bow, and grabbed his crossbow. He jumped down onto another crate and fired four quarrels. But Ty had lost the advantage of surprise, and only the first one hit the vampire.

The vampire faced him, it's face contorted in bestial fury. It regarded Ty for a second. Ty pulled out his sword. He could almost see the humor in it's face. The stupid human was attacking him with an iron sword. It leapt for him.

Fast, but not fast enough to dice with me, Ty thought. He curled and rolled, sweeping behind the vampire. It started to turn, but his blade was already slicing through it's throat. The vampire fell to the ground, choking on it's own blood. "Yeah, stupid human, huh? Can you heal from that before I kill you?" He kicked it in the ribs.

Ty lifted his sword, and in his trademark move, beheaded the vampire.

The body mummified, collapsing in on itself. Ty judged this vampire to be about a hundred years old. He pulled the quarrel out of the vampire. The crumbling flesh did not resist. He packed up his bows and picked another three quarrels out of a crate. He removed the arrows from the shifter. The right way, pushing them through and out the back. Then he wrapped all the bloody projectiles in a rag cloth, and shoved them in his duffel bag.

Then he partially wiped his sword on the shifter's jacket. The shifter sure wouldn't need it any more. He sighed and dragged the bodies closer together, kicking the vamp's head on top of them. He pulled a bottle of standard engine oil and an aerosol can of hair spray out of his bag. He doused the shifter in the oil, paying careful attention to it's face. Then he hair-sprayed the vamp. He had learned early that dead vampires ignited easily.


"Burn, baby, burn." Feeling powerful, Ty dropped the match.

"Who are you . . . ?"

Ty had completely forgotten about the girl. He turned to face her, aware of what she must be seeing. A guy, with loose black pants and a black hooded sweatshirt, as well as a thick army jacket. His hood was pulled down, over his hair, and he had a band of black silk covering his eyes. He looked a little like the Mask of Zorro, he knew, but who could shoot an accurate arrow in anything more restrictive? He even wore gloves. Vampires were in the police after all. "I can't tell you that. We've got to go."

He immediately felt sorry for the girl. She looked dazed, probably a victim of vampire mind control. "Okay," She said shakily, "anywhere but here."

Good girl, he sighed. "Okay, out this way. What's your name?"

"Max." She said. "I just want to go home."

Ty turned abruptly. Max!?!  It couldn't be. . . It was her. . . He hadn't even recognized her. He looked straight at her, and he didn't remember her. Was there anything left untainted. . . Anything untouched in this forbidding universe? He tried to pretend there was nothing wrong. "Okay, Max, I'll make sure you get home. Did they do anything to you?" He tried to keep the rage from his voice.

"They were vampires, right? They wanted to hurt me. . . But they didn't. You stopped them." She looked up, her washed out violet eyes pleading, as if she wanted to be reassured that she was still sane.

"No. One was a vampire. The other was a shifter. I'm a vampire hunter. It's what I do. Look, I'm going to take you to a group of us. They'll make sure that you are okay." Ty tried to smile reassuringly but found it difficult with the other half of his face in darkness. He planned to drop her off at the Lancers and leave her there. With luck, she'd never have to find out he was a part of this. She was from a totally different world, and it was best if his world never met hers.

"You work in groups?" He had forgotten exactly how quick Max was. He had to work quickly to distract her, or else she'd see through him.

"Some of us do. I don't, I'm freelance. We generally share information." Ty avoided her stares. There was something he didn't like in her face, a puzzled expression, as though she was trying to place him. He pulled his hood down low over his face, so that he wouldn't have to remove it.

"Why do you cover your face?" She asked.

"So, if a vamp escapes, it can't identify me." Ty said, as though this should be obvious.

"But why are you covering it now? I'm no vampire." Max said.

Ty almost cringed. She got right to the point, didn't she? He made his tone harsh. "They don't know what I look like, but from what I saw, they got a pretty close look at you. If they can find you and you can tell them what I look like, this mask is kind of useless, isn't it?"

"How old are you?" Max asked, softly, trying to judge him through the black clothes.

Ty had to think. . . He had his birthday since 'Becca was attacked, and he hadn't even thought about it. He hadn't even remembered his own birthday. "I'm seventeen."

Max looked at him, the wide-eyed cat look that he faintly remembered. "Only seventeen?"