Hellmouth #11
"The Board, part 2"
Almost dead-center of downtown Cleveland, Friday night is in full effect, teenagers running around with fake id's, college students collecting dirty laundry and driving home for the weekend, and everyone's fair share of alcohol is running like fountains. The business buildings are practically empty, with the lawyers and the random businesspeople taking care of their pre-weekend plans. At 1436 Main Street, however, a dim light is shown through a window on the twenty-fifth floor, at the stock broking offices of Berry, Evans, and Fuller. Inside, the light is caused by a slight fire in a copper plate on the desk, surrounded by several multi- colored sands, a book, and a gem held on the far side of the room, glowing. In cages lined against the wall are different breeds of bird, each wrapped up with tape around their beaks, fluttering in their harnesses. Three men draped in green robes circle the fire on the desk, whispering phrases in an unregistered language. Their arms wave slowly over the fire, rubbing against one another and flowing like water above it, the words taking on more of a rhythm, like a never-before-spoken children's rhyme. The lights flash on.
"Oh, I'm sorry. Do you know where the bathroom is, cuz this place is huge!" Lock joked, walking in in front of Gene and Aimee, a member of the coven units.
"What the hell are you doing here?!" the lead man in the purple robe screamed.
"Makin an Indy film," Gene returned, focusing the handheld video camera in his hand to focus in on the new light in the room, "And it's pretty too! I think we're gonna call it 'Caught'..."
The lead-robed man launched himself towards Gene and the camera. Lock stepped forward and laid a haymaker into the man's jaw while Gene closed the camera and threw it out the opened window. The other two robed men ran to the window to watch the camera plummet and break when it stopped flying towards the ground and instead started floating gracefully down towards a blue van, where Larson grabbed it and Ky delivered a peaceful smile to the open window.
"Okay, so lets play role-call, shall we?" Lock began. "This guy on the floor, I'm guessing, is Fuller. You must be Evans, and you... Berry?"
"Actually, my name is Frank. Berry couldn't make it tonight. They said they'd move me outta mail room if I help em out," one of the robed-men said.
"Okay..... Frank..... well, the tape that so gently fell into my associates' hands down there contains video of the three of you in socio- politically compromising positions, performing... what were they performing, Aimee?"
Aimee slowly moved her way from fingering the sands to rubbing the glowing gem. "This is nice. Rare too. From what I can see, with the sands, the birds, the gem, and the fire, it looks like they were trying some kind of foresight spell. It looks like they were invoking the owl goddess Ordan..... Oh, I get it. They were gonna use this spell to give them foresight, so they could call the right calls in the stock market, right fellas? Know when to hold em, know when to fold em kinda deal....."
"Yes," Fuller said, standing up and correcting his jaw from the punch, "Yes indeed. Good call. But that aint gonna help you. Your only proof of any of this went out the window with the camera. Our lawyers will have a field day bouncing ideas off the wall to explain that, but it wont prove anything....."
"Aww, shit, I forgot to turn off the tape recorder," Gene pulled an audio recorder out of his pocket and threw it out of the window, resulting in the same peaceful descent as the video camera.
Lock smiled and Fuller went to sit down in his chair, sulking, "Don't worry, now fellas! Chin up! There wont be any families breaking up or careers being destroyed or any of that, as long as everyone is compliant. Now, first and foremost, this kinda stuff cant be going down. Aimee, how are we gonna fix this?"
"Well, ironically enough, this is an Eyefrition Gem, and every spell that this goes with involves fire but with this gem.....," she placed the gem in the plate of fire, "touching real fire completely decimates its power. Problem solved....."
"And that's that. So now everybody is going to be cool once we get two guarantees; first and foremost, we need you to cut all this non-sense out and buy yourselves a subscription to Wall Street, cuz if ole Martha has taught us anything, it's that messing with other people's money gets you jail time. And number two; we know that you all like to dabble in politics, and who can blame you? So word on the street is that you all have a personal invite to go to the Cleveland City Banquet, and we would like to represent you. More importantly, we want to be there at the Board's Invitational Fundraiser. Now I would say 'give me the tickets' but A) I'm nicer than that, and B) We will be using your names, the names on the tickets, so this is all very hush hush." Lock grabs a seat and moves it over to Fuller. Lock straddles the chair and raises Fuller's head, making sure he has his full attention, " And if you stay hush-hush, then we stay hush-hush. Got it?"
"Wait a minute," Evans spoke out angrily, "You barged into our place and assaulted us while we were doing a benign, peaceful little spell! How are we supposed to trust you?"
"You don't have to. As a matter of fact, I suspect you'll piss yourself every night until you convince yourself that everything's cool. I assume you'll hate me and him and her and you'll live in fear every night and that, even when you think you're even remotely okay, you'll be on your p's and q's so tightly because if you pull your head out of the sand, we'll be there, and your lives are over. The truth of the matter is, we are the blackmailers. You here, despite the fact that you are mystical criminals, you're the victims. If you choose to trust us, you'll only do it because you don't have a second choice." Lock turns to Fuller, "We have a deal?"
Fuller reaches in his desk drawer, causing Gene to tighten and raise his crossbow instantly, aiming right at Fuller's jugular. Slowly, Fuller continued, pulling out the three "plus one" tickets he had, handing them to Lock. Lock smiled, grabbed Fuller by the back of his neck, pulled him in and kissed him on the forehead. Gene and Aimee followed Lock out the door, Gene backing out, smiling and waving as he uncocked the crossbow and pulled the doors closed.
Saturday went by relatively quick, and Lock and Gene found that finding a tux this close to a major public event like the Cleveland City Banquet is next to impossible, but of course they managed to save the life of at least one Fine Clothing Store manager who was more than delighted to help them out in a bind. Aimee and Ky went shopping to pick up some "plus one" evening dresses (they just used it as a cover to shop for other things as well, to celebrate Aimee's raise to a special team field unit for this mission). They happily invited Jules, but she already had a dress "for just this type of occasion"; Jules opted to go with Lock, Gene, and Larson to make sure they looked just right for the event (considering this is the first time any of them had the chance to play "dress-up" for a mission). When they got everything they needed from the tux shop, Lock gave the man his money and Gene followed it up with a fair warning about the chances of the tuxes getting back they way they left the store.
A non-profit group like the Hunters often finds it hard to squeeze everything they can out of a dollar, so Lock decided to make the sacrifices in terms of the transportation; once the girls decided they looked better than they've ever had the chance, Lock took the van to a spot about six miles away from newly built Aldrich Manor, an obscenely large mansion built a few blocks down from the Governor's townhouse. Much to the chagrin of the females, they walked. Ky has proven herself many times over in combat that she is a skilled warrior, and Aimee and Jules have equally pulled their fair share, but no one can understand pain until you've hiked six miles down a dirt road in heels; Ky and Aimee traded ideas back and forth regarding whether or not they could concentrate hard enough to levitate themselves there while Larson and Gene debated the quality of British foods.
"You do realize that this could so be us, right?" Jules asked when they reached the wide open Aldrich Manor's main hall, basking in it's wide open glory. Aldrich Manor, from its actual conceptualization, was meant to be a reception hall and an upper-echelon dining experience for important occasions. While they nailed the idea on the head, this mansion far exceeded what the idea men had in mind. "Yep, this could be us if we went commercial. Do you realize the government contracts we could have if we began contracting this kind of stuff? I mean, all the money they spend on stopping real organized crime, they could spare some for us stopping the vampire mafia."
"True," Ky responded, "and while we're at it, we can copyright our whole "we do it for the people" speech." Stepping into the banquet hall took everyone's breath away. Lock instantly went into serious detective mode, memorizing faces and locations in the room. Gene grabbed a glass of champagne from a passing waiter and began embarrassing Larson with a faux British accent. Aimee giggled, excited and equally frantic about her first field mission. Ky smiled for the first time in a long time and bowed to Gene when her feet hit the dance floor. Gene bowed in return and handed the glass over to Larson, who could only think of how surreal it was when Gene grabbed her and they began waltzing like the thickest blue-bloods could. Jules fluttered her eyelashes Lock's way, but he didn't even come close to catching the glance; his mind was in the work. Larson, Aimee, and Jules had a seat at the Berry, Evans, and Fuller table while Lock slowly approached the bar, still trying to recognize anybody from the mug shots of the Board that Larson was able to pull up last week. Gene and Ky realized that through their exquisite dancing, they were drawing some attention to themselves and after receiving a dirty look from Lock across the floor, they met up at the table. Lock soon made his way as well, angered at not spotting anyone.
"All the trouble we went through to get these tickets and I don't see a damn one of them," Lock complained. Gene started to reply until a guest popped up at their table: "Good evening, everybody. My name is Jacob Manning. I'm the host tonight and I just wanted to know if everything has been satisfactory up to this point?" Lock swallowed hard, and Larson did the dirty work for him: "Yes. Ummm..... Everything seems to be fine, thank you." Manning paused, noticing their sudden stiffening in temperament. "Berry, Evans and Fuller, eh? I am familiar with Niles Berry. He couldn't make it tonight?" he asked.
"No sir, my uncle is on vacation at the moment. I'm his nephew Franklin Niles Berry. These are his associates Michael Evans and Joseph Fuller. We're here representing the firm," Lock filled in the blanks.
"Excellent," Jacob smiled, "Well, don't let me twist your arms or anything, but keep in mind that this is our only fundraiser for our group and that the same rules apply, being the better the gift, the greater the rewards. And Mr. Fuller, are you sure we haven't met somewhere before?"
Gene stalled when he heard his obviously new code name, "Yeah, I'm sure we've run into one another at some event. It's a shame though, that we've shared this continent for a little over two hundred years and you white folks still can't tell two brothas apart....."
Manning smiled cautiously, apologized, and moved to the next table. Gene wiped a tear of repressed laughter from his eyes before he realized that the table was giving him dirty looks. "Was that really necessary?" Larson asked in his snooty British tone. "Nah," Gene calmed himself, "but Lock wont let me dance and I've got to get my jollies somehow."
"Christ, there he is," Lock said under his breath, sounding like a child who just found his lost toy. "Fabini?" Ky asked. Lock shook his head, "No, it's Yossarian. I'll bet you I'll find Fabini first though if I follow him. Alright guys, I'm gonna tail him around this place. From his profile, Yossarian doesn't like these events much, so I'm guessing he's gonna greet and get outta here. I'm sure Fabini'll gun for him first. Gene, you're in charge." Lock got up from his chair watchfully and vigilantly moved through the crowd of well-dressed dancers and various partiers up to a small but wide flight of stairs, disappearing down a back hall in pursuit of his target. "Well, that was a classic Lock moment," Gene sneered, "Ky, you're in charge. I'm following his dumb loner ass." Larson ordered another round of champagne after downing Gene's.
Lock crept through the hallways, finding his assumption correct when Yossarian shook his last required hand and made his way back through the corridors towards the back offices. Manning stepped out of a room leading back from the kitchen area and stopped Yossarian for a few moments. Lock stopped and leaned against the wall in the adjacent hallway to mentally prepare himself when Gene leaned against the wall right next to him. Lock fell to the floor with his stomach in his throat when Gene just appeared out of nowhere. Instant reflex from Lock lead to Gene catching a hard fist to his shoulder. Gene mouthed "Ow" while Lock peaked around the corner to ensure that Yossarian and Manning were at a distance enough to not hear them (especially considering vampire's superhuman audio sense). "What the hell are you doing here?" Lock whispered.
"Apparently losing feeling in my arm, thanks," Gene replied.
"I thought I ordered you to stay with the crew....."
"Yeah, well, we planned this out pretty nicely and I don't remember listing you as a probable casualty, and if you face Yossarian by yourself, you will be."
"Way to give me credit, Gene. I can handle a single vampire."
"First and foremost, I'm not convinced you can because we try never to have to face that situation. We're humans, Lock. We're not slayers. We're not superheros. We are young adults who spend way too much time with Robin Hood weapons. Secondly, Yossarian is the eldest of the Board and has the most fighting experience. He isn't some regular new-born we'll find in the cemetery."
"You're talkin like me, Gene."
"I learn....."
"Well, sometimes we need a little more of your flavor."
".....fine..... But I'm with you on this one, no matter what you say. So fill me in on the plan....."
"I go up to him, ask him where the bathroom is, flash him some neck veins, and hope he tries to kill me....."
"Can we go back to thinking like you because thinking like me is getting a wee bit scary....."
"Fine, why don't you go up to him and say, 'Hi, I'm Gene from the Hunters and I was wondering if you could point me towards a friend of yours, goes by the name of Fabini?' And while you're at it, ask him what his preference of wood is for the stake we're gonna put in his heart."
"Now we're thinking like Larson."
Once Manning returned through his kitchen door, Lock and Gene continued a silent pursuit of Yossarian until he turned yet another corner, and Lock instructed to Gene to keep distance. "Excuse me sir," Lock began his charade. Lock realized that the pictures give no justice to Yossarian at all, with the tall, pale, long-haired tyrant he sees now in front of him. He continued, "Howdy ther, sir. I am Karl Whisenhurst from the Alabama Crude Oil Refinery, and you would be.....?"
"Busy. Is that all?" Yossarian said dryly.
"Actually, partner, I been walkin round this maze for days it seems tryin to find the john. Any way you can help out a man in need by pointing me the right way?"
"Listen Karl, why don't you....."
Lock breaks into the obvious rejection by pulling out a handkerchief and loosening his neck tie completely, "Ooo boy, I cant tell you how outta shape I am. A few minutes walkin round here and my heart is pumpin like a bandit." Lock rubs his neck and flexes as best he can without showing obvious strain so as to get Yossarian in the blood-drinking mood.
"Hmmm..... Actually, Karl, I have a private bathroom in my office in the back. If you like, you can use that one." For the first time tonight, including throughout the handshaking session, Yossarian moved with his normal smile on.
Yossarian opens up into a marvelous office room with a large window that has the view of downtown Cleveland in it. From first impression, Lock could tell that this wasn't the normal place of operations for the Board or Yossarian, due to the lack of large, thick curtains to block out the sun (if it were out now). "Yowzers, yes sir, this is indeed one hell of an office you got here." When Lock turned again to ask where the bathroom was, he got just what he wanted: Yossarian the vampire. Instinctively, Lock sweep-kicked him onto his own desk and held him down with a stake over his heart and a cross inches from his smoking, sweating brow. The beast hissed and Gene took that as a clue to come into the office, himself having a similar reaction to the size and beauty of the office. "Hunters....." Yossarian hissed.
Lock nodded, "Yeah, but your blood-suckin ass ain't our number one target. Where's Fabini?"
"Are you kidding? After what he did to us at the Bloodring Tournament? You must have known by now that we kicked him to the wayside....." Yossarian replied.
"We know, but y'all must have had something planned for tonight if he attacks. If anything, y'all should know where he is."
"Fabini is a coward. He raised that army so we wouldn't kill him. He has what he wants, and we aren't gonna waste our time trying to hunt him down. He must be miles away from here....."
"Fine then," Lock smiled, "I guess you just became our number one target....."
Gene pulled out his infamous sawed-off shotgun and cocked it, instigating Lock to turn and yell, "What are you doing?"
"If we're gonna execute him, we might as well make sure he's completely out of contention," Gene replied, rubbing the barrel lovingly.
"Dude, we are seriously gonna have to talk about this. If you're gonna be my second, you're gonna have to show a little more common sense than this. If you let off a single round of that gun in a crowded mansion, then there isn't even a point in calling this 'undercover' work," Lock preached, Yossarian somewhat taken aback at how suddenly they both stopped thinking about him.
"Okay, not a damn one of us is trained for covert undercover espionage crap, okay? And I did a perfectly good job taking over while you were takin it from that retarded vampire!"
"You know, I have had just about enough of this. You ignored my instructions, you make fun of me here and in the hallway, and had you not shown up, I could have quipped a little more and still staked him."
"Why are you arguing with me here but we're cool when we're on a hunt?"
"Because you've been thinking with your ass tonight. I mean, I don't stress the military-esque nature of what we do, but I thought it was at least an understood thing that when a captain gives a command, you follow him. You have completely underminded every decision I've made tonight and you seem to've lost all common sense you've ever had when....." Lock takes a hard punch to the face and an elbow to the back of his skull, knocking him to the ground. In the same effort, Gene's hand took a kick to the sky, releasing the gun into the air and into the hands of the assaulter, Yossarian. "Damn you guys are thick," Yossarian laughed, pushing Gene up against the wall with the barrel end of his own shotgun, "But I think Mister Captain here overstated how loud a shotgun can be. What say we test it, huh?"
Down in the reception hall, Ky, Larson, Jules, and Aimee sip lightly on their champagne and try to act calm, making diverse yet unattractive conversation. "Personally, I think that we all have at least one or two unpleasant personality flaws, but that at least keeps everything interesting," Jules stated.
"But this isn't some kind of soap opera, Jules, nor is it anything more than a job or a calling. This is our responsibility to slay.....do, what we do..... Personality flaws shouldn't even have to effect us like it has been," Larson replied.
"Are you trying to say something, Larson?" Ky asked, annoyed.
"Of course not. Alright, fine, I just think that the emotional factor of what we do is getting to high for the jobs we are charged with. Indeed, we had a close call, but within a week of one another, you and Gene had to take..... What do you call it? 'Mental health days'? It just seems like things became very out-of-hand when we had a close call."
"That wasn't a close call, Larson. If we get out of this situation by the hairs on our respective chiny chin-chins, then this will be a close call. What happened then was a planned attack on us directly, something that we did not instigate."
"Sorry, Larson, but I gotta see it her way on this one," Jules agreed, "I mean, it just seems like we have no idea what we are getting ourselves into. We've always pointed the guns and we've never had the guns pointed back at us. We've always kinda felt like we've been dishing out justice and peace but we've never been the target before."
"We have always been targets, well before you were with us, Jules. Plus, we absolutely instigated that attack on us. What we have been doing to Fabini and his group must be dreadful in his eyes, and from his perspective, we deserved everything we've had plus more."
"How can you even say that? I mean, this is what we are putting our necks on the line for, and our choice of target makes that very literal," Ky asked.
"I can say that because of who I am," Larson exclaimed. He realized how loud their conversation had gotten and he lowered his tone to continue, "This is based on our own personal callings, not anything that myself or Locklear or Gene put in your hearts. I was told when I was six years old that my blood line gave me the calling to become a watcher one day. Since that day, I have been told repeatedly that this was my reason for living, and just because I was never charged with a slayer of my own does not mean I can ignore my purpose. If you all cant respect that, then you should at least respect the calling of Locklear, because he is in the same situation as the rest of you except he has no reservations as to what his purpose is."
"So we should look up to Lock because he'll sacrifice everything for 'the cause?'" Ky grumbled.
"You of all people should know how wrong you are, Ky. In my heart I feel he would have called off this death march of a mission had you done away with this trivial opposition to him. You do realize that this hunt to destroy Fabini is just for you, don't you? Because Fabini hurt you?" Larson closed and rubbed his eyes, taking in a deep breath, contemplating his next words. "Locklear is not an emotional man on the outside, but inside he is a river of thoughts and feelings. Had Jon not made him captain, I would have pulled Locklear under my wings, because his passion is what drives him. And Ky, right now his passion is for you."
While Jules understood Larson's words weren't as literal as she was taking them, the topic was making her uneasy; Aimee was abundantly intrigued by Larson's flowing mastery of his natural language further accentuated by his English accent and Ky was seeming more and more withdrawn as Larson's words broke down her mental defenses. Jules, however, decided to distance herself from the discussion and concentrate on the job she now found herself more passionate about. She spotted a horde of smoking politicians debating some inane topic in one corner while a table of judges were receiving the sucking-up of a lifetime from a group of upstart lawyers looking to gain a foot in the door of promising results in future cases. Further back, she spotted a prominent looking gentleman shaking hands much like Yossarian had earlier in the evening. "Uh, Larson, I hate to interrupt your expression of love for my boyfriend here, but that guy over there was definitely in the mug shots we scrounged up," she said.
"You're right," he said, after giving her an exaggerated British glare, "That's Marquez. He's the Southern representative of the Board."
"Whew, back to the job. Sorry, Larson, as tranquil as this tête-à- tête has been for me, the calling is calling me. C'mon Aims. We're tailing him, see if we cant drag something up. Lars, buddy, you're in charge now," Ky said, grabbing Aimee and practically flying out of her chair after Marquez.
Larson exhaled and slumped in his seat, "Now that was bracing..... Are you alright?"
"Just wonderin what we're doin here....."
"I explained it just a second ago, that we're here because of what we fee....."
"LARSON!" she yelled suddenly, catching his attention. She stood from the table and straightened her dress, "Shut up and dance with me."
Larson shut up.
Marquez seemed much more sociable than Yossarian was; where Yossarian was reluctant to say anything more than his welcomes and pleasantries, Marquez seemed to soak in the attention he received from his strong wit and undeniable charm. Ky and Aimee had a difficult time following and observing the charmer with his frequent stops and instantly intriguing conversations with anybody and everybody, especially those with matching chromosomes. To the expert eye, it would seem problematic that two girls are everywhere that one man is without any correlation to the man. Upon finishing another dazzling conversation with yet another inept blond, Marquez unexpectedly spun around to face the ladies: "Well, it would seem," he smiled, "that I have a few stalkers....."
"Well, you have a high opinion of yourself, insisting we're stalkers and such," Ky insisted.
"No stalkers? Then who are these two beauties who have followed me around two sweeps of the dance floor?" Marquez asked, no less charming.
"Curious admirers. My name is Madelyn Ordan, and this is my dear friend Vanessa Fuller. Table nine."
"Ah, Berry, Evans, and Fuller? Registered wives, I take it?"
"You say that as if it's some kind of stereotype. And in fact, I am not. I'm actually the leading stockholder in the company."
"Really.....? Beautiful and fully independent....."
"Well, the beauty came natural, but the independence I fought long an hard for, so I'd appreciate not being disrespected and called a 'registered wife' of any sorts."
Marquez laughed, "I am sorry, my dear." He grabbed her hand and kissed it.
"Cold hands and lips, it seems," Ky added, making Aimee tense slightly, noting both as a sign of vampirism.
"Most women find it appealing when they are used correctly," he smiled.
"I'll bet you've never heard the word 'stop', have you, Mr.....?"
"Marquez, and you would be surprised, Miss Ordan."
"Marquez? Is that a first name? Last name?"
"Marquez is all you need, my dear." Ky finally felt herself questioning where this line of interrogation was leading. "As for my thorough apology," Marquez added, "I will show you all the respect in the world if you promise me one dance before the night is finished." He bowed slightly and made his way past her and managed to lift and kiss Aimee's hand as well, her spine wanting to split from her back in anxiety. He climbed the stairs and walked back towards the halls that Lock and Gene went down earlier. After ensuring that they were no longer being watched, Ky and Aimee continued to follow Marquez down the hallways, this time much more warily. Marquez walked into the room that Manning had slipped in and out of earlier, leading to the kitchen. Ky slid the door to the kitchen open slightly and slowly crept in with Aimee, and when the door slowly came to a close, without warning, it locked.
Yossarian laughed at the thought of a warrior who fought so hard against numerous opponents nearly weeks ago falling so easily at the hands of his own weapon when Lock jumped up and ran clean through the gun, grabbing like a running back would take a handoff. Lock rolled to the ground and emptied the gun of it's wooden-tipped bullet shells, throwing them to opposite sides of the room. Gene blocked two attempted punches by the vampire and returned two of his own, backing Yossarian away and giving him some room to maneuver. Gene blocked two more punches and a kick to his left side, but he didn't see another punch coming that cleared his jaw and sent him reeling. Lock stood and came towards him, but the vampire's quickness and agility allowed him to backwards somersault onto the desk and send a pen flying like a throwing star, cutting Lock's face on the side and piercing him right above the shoulder. Lock fell to his knees letting out a painful shriek and, with trembling hands, pulled the pen out of his muscle tissue. Gene made it to his feet angrier now, sweep kicking Yossarian onto his back on the table and bringing a stake down towards the monster's chest. Yossarian blocked and brought his foot up to kick his assailant in the face. Gene stumbled backwards while the beast rolled over from his back towards Gene. Yossarian's first punch had little effect on Gene, much to the monster's surprise, meaning he wasn't ready for Gene's flurry of angry punches.
Lock sprinted at the now off-guard demon only to receive a back- handed fist that sent him into a wall of cabinets. The cabinets sprang open to reveal a dozen or more security monitors, each showing different rooms in the mansion. Gene's power-punching flurry settled into him taking several shot to the face including some very notable roundhouse kicks that sent Gene airborne and into the old grandfather clock in corner. Lock stood an shook off his prior two attempts at establishing an offense and stepped forward for a third. This time around, he actually traded blows with the demon before taking two more shots to the head and being thrown once again towards the now-exposed monitors, the back of his head actually going through the lowest monitors and cracking the glass. Gene jumped up and pulled a shard of glass from the clock out of his thigh and ran to his unconscious Captain. Without words, he growled loudly at Yossarian standing menacingly above him and threw his shard of glass much like the demon threw the pen. The shard stuck into the shin of the beast who curled in pain and didn't see the furious onslaught of punches, kicks, and elbows that Gene threw, expending any kind of fighting knowledge he's ever learned in any book or seen in any movie. Yossarian fell back against the wall to try and recover, but Gene continued the assault until the vampire grabbed Gene's fist, punched him once in the nose to knock him off-balance, and grabbed him by the throat and jamming him against the wall. Yossarian squeezed harder and harder to suffocate the Hunter until he felt a pain he's never felt before. Lock had managed to crawl over on his knees and, barely knowledgeable of what was going on due no doubt to his new concussion, he jammed his bloody pen as hard as he could into Yossarian's kidney. The vampire's hold on Gene released and as it violently ripped the pen out of his lower-back, Gene speared Yossarian back onto his table and put all his weight into driving his wooden stake into the vampire's chest. Quick reflexes gave Yossarian the inside track to block the stake shot to the heart, but his vampire strength was only enough to push Gene, who clearly had the leverage and the body weight advantage, to a standstill. Through loud grunts and feats of endurance, Gene screamed for Lock to wake back up.
Ky panicked at the sound of the electronic lock trapping them inside the kitchen, but Aimee was the first to notice the ten vampires crawling out of their hiding spaces, including Marquez, who got Ky's attention when he began clapping and laughing. "Wooo, lord, you girls are good. I hate to admit when the wool gets pulled over my eyes, but you definitely had me on that one. I mean, I saw your face when you were following me and I thought, 'I know this aint the witch girl from the Hunters followin me, is it?' And when I stopped and talked to you, you were so convincing! You've got talent, my dear....."
Tears started flowing down Aimee's face and she began hyperventilating when Ky grabbed her hand and squeezed it tightly for support. Marquez sat on the stainless steel counter next to a row of sinks and continued, "..... and you must have brass balls hiding on you somewhere to think that you of all people could show up here and slide right in. Go ahead, make my day; tell me that black guy's here too. Seriously though, of all the Hunters you guys have, you couldn't have grabbed two different people? How man do you have? Two dozen? More? I know Wild Jon had a dozen or more back-ups every time we offed a Hunter back in the day....."
"Shut your mouth. You have no right to use that man's name, ever!" Ky defended.
"Nice..... Did you know that old man? He was Captain of you guys for a while, wasn't he? Damn that guy was ruthless. He cared about his job, boy."
"SHUT UP!" Ky's eyes, pupils and all, went streak black.
"It don't matter..... Y'all are about to have two less anyways."
Marquez remained still sitting while his ten vampire cronies each cut dead sprints at the two women. Ky ducked underneath the first vampire diving at her and tugged Aimee with her. Quick thinking helped Ky throw up several shields to protect them on the way around the kitchen, but the shields were weak and the beating from the ten vampires weakened and broke them as fast as she could throw them up. Aimee saw Ky weakening and stopped running, helping her replace the same barriers that the vampires were breaking. Ky stopped using her magic, looking around for something that would keep them from dying. Over the commotion of the vampires desperate to kill them, Ky could eerily make out the laughing of Marquez over near the sink. Ky caught an idea and now, this time from excitement, her eyes burned black once again. Her entire body flexed and through sheer might, she set up and extended an energy barrier out from her body, blowing back the attacking vampires with the force of a small bomb. With a slight Latin summons and a blown kiss, a fiery bolt struck the side of the steel counter next to Marquez, who stopped laughing and ran. Ky grabbed her partner's hand and pulled her again toward the counter where the sink was: "Aimee, throw up and hold the strongest shield you can muster, NOW!" Aimee pulled herself together and, as if all she needed was to actually get used to this new life-or-death deal, beckoned forth a thick protective field to hold the vampires back. "Okay, it's up, but I'm no superhero or anything, so you've gotta hurry with whatever you're conjuring, fast!" Aimee yelled, now sweating from the exertion of holding the field together. Ky was already midway through her chant. Regardless of the heavy concentration, Aimee couldn't even come close to making out what language Ky was chanting. Ky lifted one finger and started moving the tip of it around in the air, drawing a circle with it. The other hand turned on the faucet and picked up the water gun hose. When the incantation was finished, the circle she was drawing with her finger powerfully glowed an enchanted white. She placed the circle on the head of the hose nozzle and pulled the trigger on the hose. "Aimee, let the field down!" she yelled, and Aimee replied by passing out. The vampires were struck by the water and instantly started sizzling, their skin burning away. They pulled back towards the back wall with Marquez: "Now that's a party trick. Water into acid thing?" he asked.
"Nope..... Sanctification aura I picked up a few months back. I've never really tried it and I was pretty much praying that would work," Ky smiled.
"I'd bet everything I own that that's drainin you pretty bad right about now, huh?" he smiled.
"Baby, I got all you need....."
Larson and Jules danced until it got boring and decided to head back to their seats when the doors burst open and in walked a very confident looking vampire in a suit that would put the greatest Hollywood mogul to shame. Everybody became very quiet and a small entourage of groupie vampires followed him in. Fabini looked around, taking his sunglasses off and placing them gently in his coat pocket: "Alright boys..... Tell the other fellas to come on in. Dinner's served," Fabini commanded. Larson appeared enthralled until he slowly stood from his chair and began walking towards the elegant vampire. Jules began to freak out, trying her damndest to pull him back to his chair by his jacket sleeve. Larson slipped out of her hold and gave her a slight jest of the hand, telling her that everything would be alright. "Excuse me," Larson began, seemingly starstruck, "You're Fabini, correct?"
"What's it to ya, English?" Fabini smiled unwittingly.
Larson punched him dead in his jaw, causing the vampire to fall to the ground. Larson smiled and looked around heroically, waving to everyone who had stopped everything and was now watching the raucous at the front. Fabini made it back to his feat and settled his nose back into socket before Larson even turned back to face him. Fabini snarled into vampire face and Larson merely choked on his words, only getting out a meager "dear lord....." Larson turned and sprinted back towards Jules, grabbing her by the hands as she grabbed her purse. The vampire entourage returned and chased them around the circumference of the reception hall, leaving Larson to dump and hide behind a table while Jules pulled several glass bottles of holy water of her purse to pelt her attackers. "What the hell was that?" Jules screamed.
"I don't know! Nobody else was doing anything, and Lock and Gene make it sound so easy to actually kill a vampire..... One, two punches and then apply the wood to the heart. What did I do wrong?" Larson yelled back, chucking a few holy water bombs of his own.
"I dunno, but regardless, we are so dead!" Jules exclaimed, noticing the increase of vampires entering through the front door of Aldrich Manor.
"HUNTER!" Yossarian screamed, the wooden stake now touching the skin on his chest, "Look at those monitors! I believe your friends have all blown their cover, and I don't think wrestling with me here is doing anything to keep them alive!" Gene looked at the monitors not broken by Lock's thick head and saw one had a shot of Ky holding off a swarm of vampires in the kitchen while Larson and Jules did the same in the main hallway, now with innocent bystanders running and pleading for their lives. Lock tried to stand but fell back down, leaning against the wall. "Ahh, sweet moments like these remind me of any action movie Sandra Bullock has ever done," Yossarian laughed through his effort to keep from being dusted, "..... choices to make, choices to make..... Are you, sir, ready to bury your friends?"
"The Board, part 2"
Almost dead-center of downtown Cleveland, Friday night is in full effect, teenagers running around with fake id's, college students collecting dirty laundry and driving home for the weekend, and everyone's fair share of alcohol is running like fountains. The business buildings are practically empty, with the lawyers and the random businesspeople taking care of their pre-weekend plans. At 1436 Main Street, however, a dim light is shown through a window on the twenty-fifth floor, at the stock broking offices of Berry, Evans, and Fuller. Inside, the light is caused by a slight fire in a copper plate on the desk, surrounded by several multi- colored sands, a book, and a gem held on the far side of the room, glowing. In cages lined against the wall are different breeds of bird, each wrapped up with tape around their beaks, fluttering in their harnesses. Three men draped in green robes circle the fire on the desk, whispering phrases in an unregistered language. Their arms wave slowly over the fire, rubbing against one another and flowing like water above it, the words taking on more of a rhythm, like a never-before-spoken children's rhyme. The lights flash on.
"Oh, I'm sorry. Do you know where the bathroom is, cuz this place is huge!" Lock joked, walking in in front of Gene and Aimee, a member of the coven units.
"What the hell are you doing here?!" the lead man in the purple robe screamed.
"Makin an Indy film," Gene returned, focusing the handheld video camera in his hand to focus in on the new light in the room, "And it's pretty too! I think we're gonna call it 'Caught'..."
The lead-robed man launched himself towards Gene and the camera. Lock stepped forward and laid a haymaker into the man's jaw while Gene closed the camera and threw it out the opened window. The other two robed men ran to the window to watch the camera plummet and break when it stopped flying towards the ground and instead started floating gracefully down towards a blue van, where Larson grabbed it and Ky delivered a peaceful smile to the open window.
"Okay, so lets play role-call, shall we?" Lock began. "This guy on the floor, I'm guessing, is Fuller. You must be Evans, and you... Berry?"
"Actually, my name is Frank. Berry couldn't make it tonight. They said they'd move me outta mail room if I help em out," one of the robed-men said.
"Okay..... Frank..... well, the tape that so gently fell into my associates' hands down there contains video of the three of you in socio- politically compromising positions, performing... what were they performing, Aimee?"
Aimee slowly moved her way from fingering the sands to rubbing the glowing gem. "This is nice. Rare too. From what I can see, with the sands, the birds, the gem, and the fire, it looks like they were trying some kind of foresight spell. It looks like they were invoking the owl goddess Ordan..... Oh, I get it. They were gonna use this spell to give them foresight, so they could call the right calls in the stock market, right fellas? Know when to hold em, know when to fold em kinda deal....."
"Yes," Fuller said, standing up and correcting his jaw from the punch, "Yes indeed. Good call. But that aint gonna help you. Your only proof of any of this went out the window with the camera. Our lawyers will have a field day bouncing ideas off the wall to explain that, but it wont prove anything....."
"Aww, shit, I forgot to turn off the tape recorder," Gene pulled an audio recorder out of his pocket and threw it out of the window, resulting in the same peaceful descent as the video camera.
Lock smiled and Fuller went to sit down in his chair, sulking, "Don't worry, now fellas! Chin up! There wont be any families breaking up or careers being destroyed or any of that, as long as everyone is compliant. Now, first and foremost, this kinda stuff cant be going down. Aimee, how are we gonna fix this?"
"Well, ironically enough, this is an Eyefrition Gem, and every spell that this goes with involves fire but with this gem.....," she placed the gem in the plate of fire, "touching real fire completely decimates its power. Problem solved....."
"And that's that. So now everybody is going to be cool once we get two guarantees; first and foremost, we need you to cut all this non-sense out and buy yourselves a subscription to Wall Street, cuz if ole Martha has taught us anything, it's that messing with other people's money gets you jail time. And number two; we know that you all like to dabble in politics, and who can blame you? So word on the street is that you all have a personal invite to go to the Cleveland City Banquet, and we would like to represent you. More importantly, we want to be there at the Board's Invitational Fundraiser. Now I would say 'give me the tickets' but A) I'm nicer than that, and B) We will be using your names, the names on the tickets, so this is all very hush hush." Lock grabs a seat and moves it over to Fuller. Lock straddles the chair and raises Fuller's head, making sure he has his full attention, " And if you stay hush-hush, then we stay hush-hush. Got it?"
"Wait a minute," Evans spoke out angrily, "You barged into our place and assaulted us while we were doing a benign, peaceful little spell! How are we supposed to trust you?"
"You don't have to. As a matter of fact, I suspect you'll piss yourself every night until you convince yourself that everything's cool. I assume you'll hate me and him and her and you'll live in fear every night and that, even when you think you're even remotely okay, you'll be on your p's and q's so tightly because if you pull your head out of the sand, we'll be there, and your lives are over. The truth of the matter is, we are the blackmailers. You here, despite the fact that you are mystical criminals, you're the victims. If you choose to trust us, you'll only do it because you don't have a second choice." Lock turns to Fuller, "We have a deal?"
Fuller reaches in his desk drawer, causing Gene to tighten and raise his crossbow instantly, aiming right at Fuller's jugular. Slowly, Fuller continued, pulling out the three "plus one" tickets he had, handing them to Lock. Lock smiled, grabbed Fuller by the back of his neck, pulled him in and kissed him on the forehead. Gene and Aimee followed Lock out the door, Gene backing out, smiling and waving as he uncocked the crossbow and pulled the doors closed.
Saturday went by relatively quick, and Lock and Gene found that finding a tux this close to a major public event like the Cleveland City Banquet is next to impossible, but of course they managed to save the life of at least one Fine Clothing Store manager who was more than delighted to help them out in a bind. Aimee and Ky went shopping to pick up some "plus one" evening dresses (they just used it as a cover to shop for other things as well, to celebrate Aimee's raise to a special team field unit for this mission). They happily invited Jules, but she already had a dress "for just this type of occasion"; Jules opted to go with Lock, Gene, and Larson to make sure they looked just right for the event (considering this is the first time any of them had the chance to play "dress-up" for a mission). When they got everything they needed from the tux shop, Lock gave the man his money and Gene followed it up with a fair warning about the chances of the tuxes getting back they way they left the store.
A non-profit group like the Hunters often finds it hard to squeeze everything they can out of a dollar, so Lock decided to make the sacrifices in terms of the transportation; once the girls decided they looked better than they've ever had the chance, Lock took the van to a spot about six miles away from newly built Aldrich Manor, an obscenely large mansion built a few blocks down from the Governor's townhouse. Much to the chagrin of the females, they walked. Ky has proven herself many times over in combat that she is a skilled warrior, and Aimee and Jules have equally pulled their fair share, but no one can understand pain until you've hiked six miles down a dirt road in heels; Ky and Aimee traded ideas back and forth regarding whether or not they could concentrate hard enough to levitate themselves there while Larson and Gene debated the quality of British foods.
"You do realize that this could so be us, right?" Jules asked when they reached the wide open Aldrich Manor's main hall, basking in it's wide open glory. Aldrich Manor, from its actual conceptualization, was meant to be a reception hall and an upper-echelon dining experience for important occasions. While they nailed the idea on the head, this mansion far exceeded what the idea men had in mind. "Yep, this could be us if we went commercial. Do you realize the government contracts we could have if we began contracting this kind of stuff? I mean, all the money they spend on stopping real organized crime, they could spare some for us stopping the vampire mafia."
"True," Ky responded, "and while we're at it, we can copyright our whole "we do it for the people" speech." Stepping into the banquet hall took everyone's breath away. Lock instantly went into serious detective mode, memorizing faces and locations in the room. Gene grabbed a glass of champagne from a passing waiter and began embarrassing Larson with a faux British accent. Aimee giggled, excited and equally frantic about her first field mission. Ky smiled for the first time in a long time and bowed to Gene when her feet hit the dance floor. Gene bowed in return and handed the glass over to Larson, who could only think of how surreal it was when Gene grabbed her and they began waltzing like the thickest blue-bloods could. Jules fluttered her eyelashes Lock's way, but he didn't even come close to catching the glance; his mind was in the work. Larson, Aimee, and Jules had a seat at the Berry, Evans, and Fuller table while Lock slowly approached the bar, still trying to recognize anybody from the mug shots of the Board that Larson was able to pull up last week. Gene and Ky realized that through their exquisite dancing, they were drawing some attention to themselves and after receiving a dirty look from Lock across the floor, they met up at the table. Lock soon made his way as well, angered at not spotting anyone.
"All the trouble we went through to get these tickets and I don't see a damn one of them," Lock complained. Gene started to reply until a guest popped up at their table: "Good evening, everybody. My name is Jacob Manning. I'm the host tonight and I just wanted to know if everything has been satisfactory up to this point?" Lock swallowed hard, and Larson did the dirty work for him: "Yes. Ummm..... Everything seems to be fine, thank you." Manning paused, noticing their sudden stiffening in temperament. "Berry, Evans and Fuller, eh? I am familiar with Niles Berry. He couldn't make it tonight?" he asked.
"No sir, my uncle is on vacation at the moment. I'm his nephew Franklin Niles Berry. These are his associates Michael Evans and Joseph Fuller. We're here representing the firm," Lock filled in the blanks.
"Excellent," Jacob smiled, "Well, don't let me twist your arms or anything, but keep in mind that this is our only fundraiser for our group and that the same rules apply, being the better the gift, the greater the rewards. And Mr. Fuller, are you sure we haven't met somewhere before?"
Gene stalled when he heard his obviously new code name, "Yeah, I'm sure we've run into one another at some event. It's a shame though, that we've shared this continent for a little over two hundred years and you white folks still can't tell two brothas apart....."
Manning smiled cautiously, apologized, and moved to the next table. Gene wiped a tear of repressed laughter from his eyes before he realized that the table was giving him dirty looks. "Was that really necessary?" Larson asked in his snooty British tone. "Nah," Gene calmed himself, "but Lock wont let me dance and I've got to get my jollies somehow."
"Christ, there he is," Lock said under his breath, sounding like a child who just found his lost toy. "Fabini?" Ky asked. Lock shook his head, "No, it's Yossarian. I'll bet you I'll find Fabini first though if I follow him. Alright guys, I'm gonna tail him around this place. From his profile, Yossarian doesn't like these events much, so I'm guessing he's gonna greet and get outta here. I'm sure Fabini'll gun for him first. Gene, you're in charge." Lock got up from his chair watchfully and vigilantly moved through the crowd of well-dressed dancers and various partiers up to a small but wide flight of stairs, disappearing down a back hall in pursuit of his target. "Well, that was a classic Lock moment," Gene sneered, "Ky, you're in charge. I'm following his dumb loner ass." Larson ordered another round of champagne after downing Gene's.
Lock crept through the hallways, finding his assumption correct when Yossarian shook his last required hand and made his way back through the corridors towards the back offices. Manning stepped out of a room leading back from the kitchen area and stopped Yossarian for a few moments. Lock stopped and leaned against the wall in the adjacent hallway to mentally prepare himself when Gene leaned against the wall right next to him. Lock fell to the floor with his stomach in his throat when Gene just appeared out of nowhere. Instant reflex from Lock lead to Gene catching a hard fist to his shoulder. Gene mouthed "Ow" while Lock peaked around the corner to ensure that Yossarian and Manning were at a distance enough to not hear them (especially considering vampire's superhuman audio sense). "What the hell are you doing here?" Lock whispered.
"Apparently losing feeling in my arm, thanks," Gene replied.
"I thought I ordered you to stay with the crew....."
"Yeah, well, we planned this out pretty nicely and I don't remember listing you as a probable casualty, and if you face Yossarian by yourself, you will be."
"Way to give me credit, Gene. I can handle a single vampire."
"First and foremost, I'm not convinced you can because we try never to have to face that situation. We're humans, Lock. We're not slayers. We're not superheros. We are young adults who spend way too much time with Robin Hood weapons. Secondly, Yossarian is the eldest of the Board and has the most fighting experience. He isn't some regular new-born we'll find in the cemetery."
"You're talkin like me, Gene."
"I learn....."
"Well, sometimes we need a little more of your flavor."
".....fine..... But I'm with you on this one, no matter what you say. So fill me in on the plan....."
"I go up to him, ask him where the bathroom is, flash him some neck veins, and hope he tries to kill me....."
"Can we go back to thinking like you because thinking like me is getting a wee bit scary....."
"Fine, why don't you go up to him and say, 'Hi, I'm Gene from the Hunters and I was wondering if you could point me towards a friend of yours, goes by the name of Fabini?' And while you're at it, ask him what his preference of wood is for the stake we're gonna put in his heart."
"Now we're thinking like Larson."
Once Manning returned through his kitchen door, Lock and Gene continued a silent pursuit of Yossarian until he turned yet another corner, and Lock instructed to Gene to keep distance. "Excuse me sir," Lock began his charade. Lock realized that the pictures give no justice to Yossarian at all, with the tall, pale, long-haired tyrant he sees now in front of him. He continued, "Howdy ther, sir. I am Karl Whisenhurst from the Alabama Crude Oil Refinery, and you would be.....?"
"Busy. Is that all?" Yossarian said dryly.
"Actually, partner, I been walkin round this maze for days it seems tryin to find the john. Any way you can help out a man in need by pointing me the right way?"
"Listen Karl, why don't you....."
Lock breaks into the obvious rejection by pulling out a handkerchief and loosening his neck tie completely, "Ooo boy, I cant tell you how outta shape I am. A few minutes walkin round here and my heart is pumpin like a bandit." Lock rubs his neck and flexes as best he can without showing obvious strain so as to get Yossarian in the blood-drinking mood.
"Hmmm..... Actually, Karl, I have a private bathroom in my office in the back. If you like, you can use that one." For the first time tonight, including throughout the handshaking session, Yossarian moved with his normal smile on.
Yossarian opens up into a marvelous office room with a large window that has the view of downtown Cleveland in it. From first impression, Lock could tell that this wasn't the normal place of operations for the Board or Yossarian, due to the lack of large, thick curtains to block out the sun (if it were out now). "Yowzers, yes sir, this is indeed one hell of an office you got here." When Lock turned again to ask where the bathroom was, he got just what he wanted: Yossarian the vampire. Instinctively, Lock sweep-kicked him onto his own desk and held him down with a stake over his heart and a cross inches from his smoking, sweating brow. The beast hissed and Gene took that as a clue to come into the office, himself having a similar reaction to the size and beauty of the office. "Hunters....." Yossarian hissed.
Lock nodded, "Yeah, but your blood-suckin ass ain't our number one target. Where's Fabini?"
"Are you kidding? After what he did to us at the Bloodring Tournament? You must have known by now that we kicked him to the wayside....." Yossarian replied.
"We know, but y'all must have had something planned for tonight if he attacks. If anything, y'all should know where he is."
"Fabini is a coward. He raised that army so we wouldn't kill him. He has what he wants, and we aren't gonna waste our time trying to hunt him down. He must be miles away from here....."
"Fine then," Lock smiled, "I guess you just became our number one target....."
Gene pulled out his infamous sawed-off shotgun and cocked it, instigating Lock to turn and yell, "What are you doing?"
"If we're gonna execute him, we might as well make sure he's completely out of contention," Gene replied, rubbing the barrel lovingly.
"Dude, we are seriously gonna have to talk about this. If you're gonna be my second, you're gonna have to show a little more common sense than this. If you let off a single round of that gun in a crowded mansion, then there isn't even a point in calling this 'undercover' work," Lock preached, Yossarian somewhat taken aback at how suddenly they both stopped thinking about him.
"Okay, not a damn one of us is trained for covert undercover espionage crap, okay? And I did a perfectly good job taking over while you were takin it from that retarded vampire!"
"You know, I have had just about enough of this. You ignored my instructions, you make fun of me here and in the hallway, and had you not shown up, I could have quipped a little more and still staked him."
"Why are you arguing with me here but we're cool when we're on a hunt?"
"Because you've been thinking with your ass tonight. I mean, I don't stress the military-esque nature of what we do, but I thought it was at least an understood thing that when a captain gives a command, you follow him. You have completely underminded every decision I've made tonight and you seem to've lost all common sense you've ever had when....." Lock takes a hard punch to the face and an elbow to the back of his skull, knocking him to the ground. In the same effort, Gene's hand took a kick to the sky, releasing the gun into the air and into the hands of the assaulter, Yossarian. "Damn you guys are thick," Yossarian laughed, pushing Gene up against the wall with the barrel end of his own shotgun, "But I think Mister Captain here overstated how loud a shotgun can be. What say we test it, huh?"
Down in the reception hall, Ky, Larson, Jules, and Aimee sip lightly on their champagne and try to act calm, making diverse yet unattractive conversation. "Personally, I think that we all have at least one or two unpleasant personality flaws, but that at least keeps everything interesting," Jules stated.
"But this isn't some kind of soap opera, Jules, nor is it anything more than a job or a calling. This is our responsibility to slay.....do, what we do..... Personality flaws shouldn't even have to effect us like it has been," Larson replied.
"Are you trying to say something, Larson?" Ky asked, annoyed.
"Of course not. Alright, fine, I just think that the emotional factor of what we do is getting to high for the jobs we are charged with. Indeed, we had a close call, but within a week of one another, you and Gene had to take..... What do you call it? 'Mental health days'? It just seems like things became very out-of-hand when we had a close call."
"That wasn't a close call, Larson. If we get out of this situation by the hairs on our respective chiny chin-chins, then this will be a close call. What happened then was a planned attack on us directly, something that we did not instigate."
"Sorry, Larson, but I gotta see it her way on this one," Jules agreed, "I mean, it just seems like we have no idea what we are getting ourselves into. We've always pointed the guns and we've never had the guns pointed back at us. We've always kinda felt like we've been dishing out justice and peace but we've never been the target before."
"We have always been targets, well before you were with us, Jules. Plus, we absolutely instigated that attack on us. What we have been doing to Fabini and his group must be dreadful in his eyes, and from his perspective, we deserved everything we've had plus more."
"How can you even say that? I mean, this is what we are putting our necks on the line for, and our choice of target makes that very literal," Ky asked.
"I can say that because of who I am," Larson exclaimed. He realized how loud their conversation had gotten and he lowered his tone to continue, "This is based on our own personal callings, not anything that myself or Locklear or Gene put in your hearts. I was told when I was six years old that my blood line gave me the calling to become a watcher one day. Since that day, I have been told repeatedly that this was my reason for living, and just because I was never charged with a slayer of my own does not mean I can ignore my purpose. If you all cant respect that, then you should at least respect the calling of Locklear, because he is in the same situation as the rest of you except he has no reservations as to what his purpose is."
"So we should look up to Lock because he'll sacrifice everything for 'the cause?'" Ky grumbled.
"You of all people should know how wrong you are, Ky. In my heart I feel he would have called off this death march of a mission had you done away with this trivial opposition to him. You do realize that this hunt to destroy Fabini is just for you, don't you? Because Fabini hurt you?" Larson closed and rubbed his eyes, taking in a deep breath, contemplating his next words. "Locklear is not an emotional man on the outside, but inside he is a river of thoughts and feelings. Had Jon not made him captain, I would have pulled Locklear under my wings, because his passion is what drives him. And Ky, right now his passion is for you."
While Jules understood Larson's words weren't as literal as she was taking them, the topic was making her uneasy; Aimee was abundantly intrigued by Larson's flowing mastery of his natural language further accentuated by his English accent and Ky was seeming more and more withdrawn as Larson's words broke down her mental defenses. Jules, however, decided to distance herself from the discussion and concentrate on the job she now found herself more passionate about. She spotted a horde of smoking politicians debating some inane topic in one corner while a table of judges were receiving the sucking-up of a lifetime from a group of upstart lawyers looking to gain a foot in the door of promising results in future cases. Further back, she spotted a prominent looking gentleman shaking hands much like Yossarian had earlier in the evening. "Uh, Larson, I hate to interrupt your expression of love for my boyfriend here, but that guy over there was definitely in the mug shots we scrounged up," she said.
"You're right," he said, after giving her an exaggerated British glare, "That's Marquez. He's the Southern representative of the Board."
"Whew, back to the job. Sorry, Larson, as tranquil as this tête-à- tête has been for me, the calling is calling me. C'mon Aims. We're tailing him, see if we cant drag something up. Lars, buddy, you're in charge now," Ky said, grabbing Aimee and practically flying out of her chair after Marquez.
Larson exhaled and slumped in his seat, "Now that was bracing..... Are you alright?"
"Just wonderin what we're doin here....."
"I explained it just a second ago, that we're here because of what we fee....."
"LARSON!" she yelled suddenly, catching his attention. She stood from the table and straightened her dress, "Shut up and dance with me."
Larson shut up.
Marquez seemed much more sociable than Yossarian was; where Yossarian was reluctant to say anything more than his welcomes and pleasantries, Marquez seemed to soak in the attention he received from his strong wit and undeniable charm. Ky and Aimee had a difficult time following and observing the charmer with his frequent stops and instantly intriguing conversations with anybody and everybody, especially those with matching chromosomes. To the expert eye, it would seem problematic that two girls are everywhere that one man is without any correlation to the man. Upon finishing another dazzling conversation with yet another inept blond, Marquez unexpectedly spun around to face the ladies: "Well, it would seem," he smiled, "that I have a few stalkers....."
"Well, you have a high opinion of yourself, insisting we're stalkers and such," Ky insisted.
"No stalkers? Then who are these two beauties who have followed me around two sweeps of the dance floor?" Marquez asked, no less charming.
"Curious admirers. My name is Madelyn Ordan, and this is my dear friend Vanessa Fuller. Table nine."
"Ah, Berry, Evans, and Fuller? Registered wives, I take it?"
"You say that as if it's some kind of stereotype. And in fact, I am not. I'm actually the leading stockholder in the company."
"Really.....? Beautiful and fully independent....."
"Well, the beauty came natural, but the independence I fought long an hard for, so I'd appreciate not being disrespected and called a 'registered wife' of any sorts."
Marquez laughed, "I am sorry, my dear." He grabbed her hand and kissed it.
"Cold hands and lips, it seems," Ky added, making Aimee tense slightly, noting both as a sign of vampirism.
"Most women find it appealing when they are used correctly," he smiled.
"I'll bet you've never heard the word 'stop', have you, Mr.....?"
"Marquez, and you would be surprised, Miss Ordan."
"Marquez? Is that a first name? Last name?"
"Marquez is all you need, my dear." Ky finally felt herself questioning where this line of interrogation was leading. "As for my thorough apology," Marquez added, "I will show you all the respect in the world if you promise me one dance before the night is finished." He bowed slightly and made his way past her and managed to lift and kiss Aimee's hand as well, her spine wanting to split from her back in anxiety. He climbed the stairs and walked back towards the halls that Lock and Gene went down earlier. After ensuring that they were no longer being watched, Ky and Aimee continued to follow Marquez down the hallways, this time much more warily. Marquez walked into the room that Manning had slipped in and out of earlier, leading to the kitchen. Ky slid the door to the kitchen open slightly and slowly crept in with Aimee, and when the door slowly came to a close, without warning, it locked.
Yossarian laughed at the thought of a warrior who fought so hard against numerous opponents nearly weeks ago falling so easily at the hands of his own weapon when Lock jumped up and ran clean through the gun, grabbing like a running back would take a handoff. Lock rolled to the ground and emptied the gun of it's wooden-tipped bullet shells, throwing them to opposite sides of the room. Gene blocked two attempted punches by the vampire and returned two of his own, backing Yossarian away and giving him some room to maneuver. Gene blocked two more punches and a kick to his left side, but he didn't see another punch coming that cleared his jaw and sent him reeling. Lock stood and came towards him, but the vampire's quickness and agility allowed him to backwards somersault onto the desk and send a pen flying like a throwing star, cutting Lock's face on the side and piercing him right above the shoulder. Lock fell to his knees letting out a painful shriek and, with trembling hands, pulled the pen out of his muscle tissue. Gene made it to his feet angrier now, sweep kicking Yossarian onto his back on the table and bringing a stake down towards the monster's chest. Yossarian blocked and brought his foot up to kick his assailant in the face. Gene stumbled backwards while the beast rolled over from his back towards Gene. Yossarian's first punch had little effect on Gene, much to the monster's surprise, meaning he wasn't ready for Gene's flurry of angry punches.
Lock sprinted at the now off-guard demon only to receive a back- handed fist that sent him into a wall of cabinets. The cabinets sprang open to reveal a dozen or more security monitors, each showing different rooms in the mansion. Gene's power-punching flurry settled into him taking several shot to the face including some very notable roundhouse kicks that sent Gene airborne and into the old grandfather clock in corner. Lock stood an shook off his prior two attempts at establishing an offense and stepped forward for a third. This time around, he actually traded blows with the demon before taking two more shots to the head and being thrown once again towards the now-exposed monitors, the back of his head actually going through the lowest monitors and cracking the glass. Gene jumped up and pulled a shard of glass from the clock out of his thigh and ran to his unconscious Captain. Without words, he growled loudly at Yossarian standing menacingly above him and threw his shard of glass much like the demon threw the pen. The shard stuck into the shin of the beast who curled in pain and didn't see the furious onslaught of punches, kicks, and elbows that Gene threw, expending any kind of fighting knowledge he's ever learned in any book or seen in any movie. Yossarian fell back against the wall to try and recover, but Gene continued the assault until the vampire grabbed Gene's fist, punched him once in the nose to knock him off-balance, and grabbed him by the throat and jamming him against the wall. Yossarian squeezed harder and harder to suffocate the Hunter until he felt a pain he's never felt before. Lock had managed to crawl over on his knees and, barely knowledgeable of what was going on due no doubt to his new concussion, he jammed his bloody pen as hard as he could into Yossarian's kidney. The vampire's hold on Gene released and as it violently ripped the pen out of his lower-back, Gene speared Yossarian back onto his table and put all his weight into driving his wooden stake into the vampire's chest. Quick reflexes gave Yossarian the inside track to block the stake shot to the heart, but his vampire strength was only enough to push Gene, who clearly had the leverage and the body weight advantage, to a standstill. Through loud grunts and feats of endurance, Gene screamed for Lock to wake back up.
Ky panicked at the sound of the electronic lock trapping them inside the kitchen, but Aimee was the first to notice the ten vampires crawling out of their hiding spaces, including Marquez, who got Ky's attention when he began clapping and laughing. "Wooo, lord, you girls are good. I hate to admit when the wool gets pulled over my eyes, but you definitely had me on that one. I mean, I saw your face when you were following me and I thought, 'I know this aint the witch girl from the Hunters followin me, is it?' And when I stopped and talked to you, you were so convincing! You've got talent, my dear....."
Tears started flowing down Aimee's face and she began hyperventilating when Ky grabbed her hand and squeezed it tightly for support. Marquez sat on the stainless steel counter next to a row of sinks and continued, "..... and you must have brass balls hiding on you somewhere to think that you of all people could show up here and slide right in. Go ahead, make my day; tell me that black guy's here too. Seriously though, of all the Hunters you guys have, you couldn't have grabbed two different people? How man do you have? Two dozen? More? I know Wild Jon had a dozen or more back-ups every time we offed a Hunter back in the day....."
"Shut your mouth. You have no right to use that man's name, ever!" Ky defended.
"Nice..... Did you know that old man? He was Captain of you guys for a while, wasn't he? Damn that guy was ruthless. He cared about his job, boy."
"SHUT UP!" Ky's eyes, pupils and all, went streak black.
"It don't matter..... Y'all are about to have two less anyways."
Marquez remained still sitting while his ten vampire cronies each cut dead sprints at the two women. Ky ducked underneath the first vampire diving at her and tugged Aimee with her. Quick thinking helped Ky throw up several shields to protect them on the way around the kitchen, but the shields were weak and the beating from the ten vampires weakened and broke them as fast as she could throw them up. Aimee saw Ky weakening and stopped running, helping her replace the same barriers that the vampires were breaking. Ky stopped using her magic, looking around for something that would keep them from dying. Over the commotion of the vampires desperate to kill them, Ky could eerily make out the laughing of Marquez over near the sink. Ky caught an idea and now, this time from excitement, her eyes burned black once again. Her entire body flexed and through sheer might, she set up and extended an energy barrier out from her body, blowing back the attacking vampires with the force of a small bomb. With a slight Latin summons and a blown kiss, a fiery bolt struck the side of the steel counter next to Marquez, who stopped laughing and ran. Ky grabbed her partner's hand and pulled her again toward the counter where the sink was: "Aimee, throw up and hold the strongest shield you can muster, NOW!" Aimee pulled herself together and, as if all she needed was to actually get used to this new life-or-death deal, beckoned forth a thick protective field to hold the vampires back. "Okay, it's up, but I'm no superhero or anything, so you've gotta hurry with whatever you're conjuring, fast!" Aimee yelled, now sweating from the exertion of holding the field together. Ky was already midway through her chant. Regardless of the heavy concentration, Aimee couldn't even come close to making out what language Ky was chanting. Ky lifted one finger and started moving the tip of it around in the air, drawing a circle with it. The other hand turned on the faucet and picked up the water gun hose. When the incantation was finished, the circle she was drawing with her finger powerfully glowed an enchanted white. She placed the circle on the head of the hose nozzle and pulled the trigger on the hose. "Aimee, let the field down!" she yelled, and Aimee replied by passing out. The vampires were struck by the water and instantly started sizzling, their skin burning away. They pulled back towards the back wall with Marquez: "Now that's a party trick. Water into acid thing?" he asked.
"Nope..... Sanctification aura I picked up a few months back. I've never really tried it and I was pretty much praying that would work," Ky smiled.
"I'd bet everything I own that that's drainin you pretty bad right about now, huh?" he smiled.
"Baby, I got all you need....."
Larson and Jules danced until it got boring and decided to head back to their seats when the doors burst open and in walked a very confident looking vampire in a suit that would put the greatest Hollywood mogul to shame. Everybody became very quiet and a small entourage of groupie vampires followed him in. Fabini looked around, taking his sunglasses off and placing them gently in his coat pocket: "Alright boys..... Tell the other fellas to come on in. Dinner's served," Fabini commanded. Larson appeared enthralled until he slowly stood from his chair and began walking towards the elegant vampire. Jules began to freak out, trying her damndest to pull him back to his chair by his jacket sleeve. Larson slipped out of her hold and gave her a slight jest of the hand, telling her that everything would be alright. "Excuse me," Larson began, seemingly starstruck, "You're Fabini, correct?"
"What's it to ya, English?" Fabini smiled unwittingly.
Larson punched him dead in his jaw, causing the vampire to fall to the ground. Larson smiled and looked around heroically, waving to everyone who had stopped everything and was now watching the raucous at the front. Fabini made it back to his feat and settled his nose back into socket before Larson even turned back to face him. Fabini snarled into vampire face and Larson merely choked on his words, only getting out a meager "dear lord....." Larson turned and sprinted back towards Jules, grabbing her by the hands as she grabbed her purse. The vampire entourage returned and chased them around the circumference of the reception hall, leaving Larson to dump and hide behind a table while Jules pulled several glass bottles of holy water of her purse to pelt her attackers. "What the hell was that?" Jules screamed.
"I don't know! Nobody else was doing anything, and Lock and Gene make it sound so easy to actually kill a vampire..... One, two punches and then apply the wood to the heart. What did I do wrong?" Larson yelled back, chucking a few holy water bombs of his own.
"I dunno, but regardless, we are so dead!" Jules exclaimed, noticing the increase of vampires entering through the front door of Aldrich Manor.
"HUNTER!" Yossarian screamed, the wooden stake now touching the skin on his chest, "Look at those monitors! I believe your friends have all blown their cover, and I don't think wrestling with me here is doing anything to keep them alive!" Gene looked at the monitors not broken by Lock's thick head and saw one had a shot of Ky holding off a swarm of vampires in the kitchen while Larson and Jules did the same in the main hallway, now with innocent bystanders running and pleading for their lives. Lock tried to stand but fell back down, leaning against the wall. "Ahh, sweet moments like these remind me of any action movie Sandra Bullock has ever done," Yossarian laughed through his effort to keep from being dusted, "..... choices to make, choices to make..... Are you, sir, ready to bury your friends?"
