Chapter 22.

SAN FRANCISCO, CAL.

(10:59 P.M./PST).

Detective Frank Kohanek pulled his car to a stop in front of the Haven. Sure enough; the sounds of violent fighting clearly emanated from within. But, even had they not, the Hum-Vee limo (still stuck halfway through the main entrance) was proof enough in itself that something was wrong at this club!

He looked in the rearview mirror, and saw the red flashing lights of the S.W.A.T. team van getting ever closer. So, he hurriedly got out of the car, to get his own "special weapons" out of the trunk prior to their arrival. In this case, the weapons were a fireman's axe and an M-16/M-203 combo. The latter having been custom-modified to fire silver tracer bullets...along with stake-like wooden javelins from the built-on grenade launcher.

Imagine his shock, then, at finding the trunk open and empty. And, then, seeing a petite blonde girl, dressed all in black, running towards a nearby alleyway already bearing those self-same arms!

When Lindsey McDonald heard Boone issue whatever order he had given, to the Fyarl demons, he immediately carried out his own pre-set instructions. Which is why he immediately jumped around and ambidextrously threw sneezing power into the Fyarls' faces!

Angel, on seeing this, immediately exclaimed: "Fire in the hole!"

Sonny Toussaint and Mick St. John had no trouble interpreting that slang expression, and reacted accordingly. Diving behind a set of over-turned tables and righting them back up, for usage as shields. But, Daedalus, Cash, and the mysterious werewolf were not so lucky.

"AHHHHH-CHOO!" chorused the demons. The result being a veritable downpour of greenish-colored mucus flying over the latter trio. Paralyzing them where they stood like the neuro-toxic venom of a Portuguese man o' war! Leaving the Fyarls free to lumber forward, and demolish the impromptu hiding place of the three other vampires.

Kohanek drew his 9mm Beretta and chased after the blonde. He intended to get within shooting distance and yell the customary warning to freeze. Yet, just as he entered the alley, he got the second greatest shock of that night. He saw the petite blonde leap to the top of a rather cumbersome moving van in three effortless, somersaulting bounds!

"What the frig...?" he muttered to himself.

MICK ST. JOHN'S P.O.V.

I had heard of Fyarl demons, before, but I had never met one. Let alone, two! And, let me tell you; they quickly confirmed that what I had heard was no exaggeration. Imagine a cross between the Incredible Hulk and a bighorn sheep!

That's who I felt like I was fighting against.

As soon as one of them had tossed aside the snot-covered table I had temporarily hidden behind, I sprang to my feet and gave it an eye-blurring one/two punch to its jaw.

"Owwwwwwwwww!" I yelped. Both my fists felt like I had belted a jawbone made of cast iron. Unfortunately, for me, that proved just enough of an interval for it to pick me up and fling me in Sonny's direction. Just as the other Fyarl was doing the same thing to him.

The two of us collided in mid-air with a resounding "wham!"

The last thing I remember hearing, as I uncontrollably blacked out, was the demon called Boone saying:

"OK, Angel! Put up your dukes."

tbc