Chapter 8: Into the Vampires' Den
They reached the locked front door of Peterson's house and halted.
"Listen good and do whatever I tell you, or it will be you I'll have to stab through the heart," he ordered grimly.
His words sent shudders running through Colette's body, but she leaned in closer.
"We'll go down the center of the street towards the Inn; you cover the roofs and I'll do the ground. You've thirty-five bullets in that pistol of yours, so aim for the heart. When you use your last bullet, cast away the gun and use your wand in defensive tactics. If'n one comes mighty close, use that fancy knife of yours on them. Understand?"
"Yes, sir," answered Colette through dry lips. Her heart was pounding in her chest, and she continued to wonder why she hadn't left Lachlan when she had the chance. Peterson's gaze steadied her.
"This is no time for a faint heart or childish heroics," he continued softly. "We are out numbered six to one and there is a werewolf on the loose. Are you ready, girl?"
"Yes," stated Colette with a firm nod. She pulled the pistol from her sash and held it with both hands.
Peterson unbolted the door swiftly and kicked it open, crossbow at the ready. The porch was empty, and he stepped out, scanning the dark street with quick eyes. Colette followed quietly. They moved out into the center of the street as the old man had suggested and carefully, side by side, walked through town.
Colette kept a fierce eye out for anything that moved in the shadows of the roofs. On the top of one slanted house, she could make out a pale, fanged face. She raised the pistol and took aim, squeezing the metal trigger with her finger. The shot that rang out echoed in her ears, and the vampire screamed as the wood bullet hit him in the shoulder.
"The heart, girl! Aim for the bloody heart!" shouted Peterson from slightly behind her.
He had already loosed two wooden bolts into the hearts of two vampires—one had been prowling the shadows, preparing to attack them, while the other was merely standing in the doorway to an abandoned home. Colette squeezed the trigger again and this time, the bullet pierced the heart of the vile night demon. The old man glanced over as the writhing body fell from the roof and was dust before it hit the ground.
"Don't get cocky, girl," he stated gruffly. "There are still nine bloodsuckers on the loose."
"Is one of them your grandson?" asked Colette diffidently. She received a deep chuckled from the former professor.
"I would've thought that you've figured it out by now, bein' as smart as you seem," commented the old man dryly.
Many thoughts raced through her mind at his words, but nothing seemed to stay as she forced herself to concentrate on the shadowy roofs and potential attackers.
"You know my grandson. I encouraged him to infiltrate the Inn, havin' been away from town and all for a few years. He was usin' a different name."
"Ethan," breathed Colette suddenly. Her eyes had just spotted a crumbled form lying in the center of the road directly in front of the Inn. She made to approach but was held back by Peterson's gnarled hand on her arm.
"It's a trap, girl," he whispered. His eyes were scanning the surrounding buildings wearily, and Colette noticed that the moon had vanished behind thick, black clouds. "He's a'watchin' us, waitin' for us to step into the trap."
"How do you know?" asked Colette lowly.
"Cause he would've killed Kenny 'fore now, right after the moon disappeared and he transformed back into a human," replied the old man calmly. His fingers quickly fitted a new silver bolt in the massive crossbow. "Get ready to use that gun."
Her hands tightened about the gun, and she waited for whatever instructions Peterson would give, but the old man remained silent. The stillness of the town was unnerving and was only broken when the crumpled form of Ethan Wolfe stirred on the ground a mere fifty yards from where Colette stood.
"Together," Peterson murmured barely audibly, "with our backs to one another. You face the right and I'll face the Inn. If you see anythin' move, girl, you better shoot it. Now."
At the command, Colette obediently started forwards, her back just inches from the old man's and the barrel of the pistol facing outward towards the tall, ominous buildings. Cautiously they walked, her eyes scanning the long shadows for any sign of movement.
They had nearly reached Ethan when she saw dark figures leap out at her, and she did not even have time to aim before she pulled the trigger. Wood bullets flew everywhere, and behind her, she could hear the mechanical twangs of Peterson's crossbow. When she halted, she counted four piles of dust where vampires had been seconds before, and she did not know how many bullets she had left.
"Oh, very, very good," laughed the loud, mocking voice of Grimshaw. "I am truly impressed."
Colette assumed from the sound of Grimshaw's voice that he was somewhere behind her, near the Inn. She heard stiff movement as Peterson raised the crossbow and took aim; then a low, barely audible curse from the old man.
"It seems I have underestimated you, Peterson, but the night is still very young. After I rid myself of you, Colette and I can finish what we started."
A cold shiver ran down her spine at his frosty words, and she spun around to look for him, she saw no sign of the vampire anywhere.
"I'll take care of this young bloodsucker," snarled Peterson lowly to her. "You get Kenny back to my house 'fore the bloody moon shows it's face again. There is a potion bottle by the door, make him drink it."
The command in the old man's voice, expression, and posture as he shifted the dark arts weapon caused Colette to obediently nod. As she reached down to help Ethan to his feet, the old man grabbed her hand, staring into her eyes. She was surprised to find that his dark eyes and wrinkled face were full of concern and urgency.
"Be careful and quick, girl. There is still one vampire unaccounted for besides Grimshaw and at the first ray of moonlight, you must leave Kenny and run. He can fend for himself then, and you best not get in his way. Now, move!"
He released her and limped away into the darkness, leaving Colette alone with a dazed werewolf. She reached down, took hold of Ethan's thick arm, and heaved with all of her strength, but she barely lifted the man from the ground. He groaned and titled his head, revealing a nasty, bloody wound running the course of his face that nearly turned Colette's stomach.
"Think," she muttered to herself to keep from panicking.
Taking a deep breath to calm her racing heart, she cleared her mind of all that was around her. Swiftly, she pulled her wand from her sash and conjured a stretcher. She charmed Ethan's unconscious form into the stretcher and led it as quickly as she could towards Peterson's house. As she jogged down the deserted street alongside the levitating stretcher, her eyes scanned the surrounding darkness for any signs of the last vampire.
The night seemed darker than before and the air had become unbelievably cold, so that her fingers, which were wrapped about the pistol and her wand, seemed frozen. However, she barely noticed the numbness of her extremities, as all of her being was tense and alert for a possible attack.