14

SILVER DREAMS

"Ready," Helen nodded, clicking the last silver-tipped bullet into place.

Electric light flashed outside the door, branching wildly along the corridor in front of the vampire. He was starving and old. He could smell the blood, fresh and warm and he craved it. Gods to taste again – to feel again. His oath seemed meagre in the face of hunger.

The ancient vampire didn't see Nikola pressed against the wall beside him. The young vampire hit him hard across the back of the neck, sending him stumbling to the floor with an angry growl, fangs glistening and wet.

"Foolish child!" the ancient one screeched, dripping silken venom into the dirt. He turned on Nikola, long claws going straight through Nikola's chest, dragging the young vampire up the wall with a trail of blood. "Stay out of my way." He tossed Nikola aside into the shadows.

Nikola hit the floor to the sound of his left leg snapping. The bone shot through the skin. "Son of a..." he growled, looking down in horror.

John was next, ducking under the vampire's sweeping claws and delivering a powerful hit to his chest. Then again, slamming his knee up into the vampire and taking him down to the ground with a quick succession of powerful hits. Ashley swung down from the ceiling, firing off two carefully aimed rounds into the vampire's shoulders.

The bullets hissed into the vampire's flesh, silver leaching into his blood. He reached up, cold blood running down his wrists. It was almost black.

"Forgive – me?" the vampire whispered, feeling an ice take hold of his blood. Dark eyes closed, his withered body giving way to a deep, dreamless sleep.

Helen, John and Ashley stood over the bloodied vampire.

"Piece of cake," Ashley grinned, slipping her gun back into it's holster.

"We need to get him on a plane, fast. Let's pack up and get out of here," Helen whispered, kneeling down to restrain the vampire with ties. She looked up at a soft growl from the corner of the room. "You all right over there?"

Nikola scowled. "Oh yes, just peachy," he hissed, pushing the bone back into his leg with a cry of pain. He held it there as his skin healed over. That hurt. "What about your puppy dog?"

"Henry's here?" Ashley asked, smiling a little.

"He's already en-route back to Old City," Helen replied. "He checked in with Biggie a few hours ago. We'll meet him back at base."

Nikola limped over to the others looking paler than usual. Ashley offered him a sympathetic look. "Nasty – dude," she nodded at his leg.

'The plane' turned out to be a helicopter picking its way through the mountains. The heat had burned off all the mist leaving a clear divide between the dark green expanse of jungle and pale blue sky. Nikola carefully eyed the rises and fall of the mountains as though looking for patterns in the chaos.

"Penny for your thoughts...?" Helen asked, sitting opposite him. John and Ashley were chatting and the vampire was tied up in the cargo.

Nikola didn't turn towards her, preferring his current view of the ancient world.

"Doesn't it bother you?" Nikola replied quietly.

Helen frowned, tilting her head. "What?"

"Why did he stay there, starving in the darkness for thousands of years... Something was keeping the vampire there, Helen."

She shrugged. "Perhaps you can ask him later, if it bothers you so."

Nikola was quiet for a moment, tapping his claws against the glass. "Perhaps I will..."

Henry padded over the stone floor, leaping from side to side to avoid the rubble of ruined columns. There was water seeping from the walls, coating the floor in an ankle deep, freezing river that tumbled down stairs and trailed off into the darkness.

He had decided to remain in wolf form, covering ground quickly as he chased the echoes. Helen was here somewhere, he could hear her voice getting softer.

He barked, leaping up onto a marble block. Stretching out in front at the base of the ruined city was a deep, black lake. It was walled by a smooth, marble capped rim with glowing symbols that lit the room. There were great swirls of golden dust curling over its surface, moved by the deep, freezing currents like ribbons destroyed galaxies. The enormous door loomed behind – its ghastly figures as dead as the city.

Henry crossed the city and strutted along the marble wall, sniffing the air. The world had gone quiet again. His head lifted. Something was in the water on the far side. Henry barked.

"Henry..." the voice whispered.

He broke into a run, skidding over the marble until he found a figure struggling in the water, slipping deeper into darkness. Helen's long hair was plastered to her skin, her eyes wide and frightened. She was pale like a vampire, her strength failing as she saw the werewolf appear.

"Help," was all she managed to murmur. Helen didn't even have the strength to reach out to him.

Henry curled his claws over the marble edge and took hold of Helen's coat in his jaws. He pulled, tugging her out of the water and onto the dirt. She stroked his soft fur, closing her eyes as the wolf laid over her. All she knew was warmth as the wolf wailed softly.

Helen had been laying in the water for days.

"Doc?" Henry, dressed and sitting beside a warm fire, brushed his hands over Helen's cheek again. "Come on now, I saw you stir," he whispered.

Helen groaned, opening her eyes. She tried to shield them from the firelight but the warmth got the better of her.

"Thought I lost you there for a while," Henry added, helping her to sit up.

She pressed her hand to her forehead in a futile attempt to stop the throbbing pain. "Where are the others?" she whispered, reaching for her gun – but Henry had everything laid out and drying on her coat.

"No idea. They were here, several days ago by the smell of it. I found you alone," he added quietly.

She accepted the heated water, sipping it carefully.

"Something tried to kill me," she whispered. "John, Nikola and I – we came under the door," she pointed to the enormous structure that had once been the city's defence against the world. "When I was under the water something latched onto my legs. It pulled me deeper, hooking me onto something beneath the water." Helen looked away with a shiver. "I thought I'd drowned," she whispered. "The next thing I remember, I was floating on the surface."

Helen looked morbidly at the water, wondering if the others were still beneath its surface. Henry shook his head.

"They definitely went through the city," he whispered. "I've smelled them up in the tunnels."

She frowned at once. "Nikola and John continued without me? No..."

"Come on Doc – a vampire and history's most notorious murderer?"

"You better believe it, Henry," she replied seriously.

Several hours later, Helen had scavenged a pair of torches from the outer walls of the city. She lit them from Henry's fire and handed him one.

"This place is huge," Henry whispered, creeping up the main street with Helen. "And seriously creepy," he added, passing more bleached skeletons.

"What does this remind you of – Prague?"

"That was a crypt," Henry shivered.

Helen shrugged, that grin of hers stretched over her lips. "Bones, ruins – torches," she waved hers about playfully. "Come on, those were the days, Henry."

"Hey – it was my first tomb. You took Ash and I out for a family outing. I thought we were getting ice-cream but no. Creepy dead things."

"And a giant lizard," Helen added proudly.

"Yeah – and that. Nice parenting touch."

"You called it Frank," she smiled softly.

"Well... He needed a name."

"Frank was a girl."

Henry looked utterly guttered. His childhood robbed. "But...?"

"She had two clutches of eggs while you and Ashley were at university. Oh that is unfortunate..." Helen paused, leaning into one of the ruined buildings. "It's all right," she brushed Henry off when he tried to tug her back. "It's been here for hundreds of years, I'm sure it'll survive me."

Helen stepped into the crumbling building, avoiding the pair of skeletons huddled in the corner, their heads scattered on the far side. "Don't you find it strange, Henry? Every one of these creatures has been killed violently – by each other – and yet the city shows no sign of invasion. If it were Conquistadors, all this would be gone," she ran her hand along a gold embossed border in the wall. "Oh..."

"Shit..." Henry finished for her. "Those – look familiar."

They both tilted their heads up at the roof to see three perfect, white cocoons nestled against the stone. Helen bravely prodded one with her torch. The silk threads unfurled in the heat, falling to the ground and with it a pile of bones.

"Dead," she whispered. "It's far too warm for Magoii to reproduce down here – but not enough to kill a full grown."

"I really hate those things," Henry sighed, kicking some of the silk cocoon.

"Now now Henry, what have I taught you?"

Henry rolled his eyes. "That even the most dangerous Abnormals have a right to exist," he dutifully repeated the words Helen had drilled into him as a child.

"Even Magoii. We have no idea how long these things can live but preliminary work by the Russian Sanctuary suggests they could have lifespans of hundreds of years, especially if they are left to hibernate."

"How many do you think are still down here?"

Helen looked carefully at the cocoon shell. "This could have come from a single Magoii. Come on, we better find out what happened to the others."

Helen and Henry followed their tracks through the ancient sanctuary. After nearly a day of crawling through tunnels and wading in freezing water they realised that this place was completely dead. There was no life left here at all and whatever dream had started inside these walls had died here.

"Shall we check in with the Big Guy? Maybe have him order us a nice private jet?"

Helen shook her head. "I don't think so, Henry. We're going the long way home this time."

Nikola was milking every last ounce of sympathy out of his injury, limping toward Helen's wine rack. He ran his claws over the dusty bottles, making a soft tapping sound. Truthfully, he'd expected her to stop him by now or at the very least issue him a warning in the form of a bullet to the back. Instead, his old friend was oddly absent, presumably down in her basement playing with the ancient vampire.

He forced himself not to be jealous, drowning those destructive thoughts in another Bordeaux.

Nikola set a clean glass on the window sill, uncorked a fresh bottle with his claw and tilted it over the crystal edge. Sand poured out of the lip, tinkling against the glass.

The bottle smashed against the floor, red wine splashing over Nikola's shoes. He looked at his glass again.

Wine.

"I'm losing my mind..."