She stood silently, away from the hullabaloo the raid had caused. Reporters, spectators, and locals all stood behind the yellow police tape. All eager for a piece of the story. Jane Yellowrock, famed rogue vampire killer, kept a wary eye on the crowd. This place in which the religious fanatics were bristling with firearms was not one in which should let her attention lapse.
An involuntary growl shuddered in her chest as her spiritual passenger , “Beast” regarded the shouting and yelling people.
“This place reeks of death,” came the spirit’s husky voice to Jane. Indeed, it did and not in a way that inspired a hunter’s instincts. Rot. Carrion. Fermented blood. All of which the huntress could smell even without her inner companion’s heightened senses.
The woman could feel her eyes glow an intense gold like always when Beast was close to the surface.
Underneath a large oak in the God’s Cloud compound, Jane suppressed a shiver this time when a blood-servant was carried out on a stretcher. Apparently it had taken a lot out of the servant to supply her master with enough healing blood. Paramedics were only needed to carry the human out , however. Her wounds would be already mending with the healing agent in the vamp’s saliva.
Only time could help the servant recoup. Well, that and blood transfusions.
A clatter of activity at the wooden door of the shed tore at Jane’s attention. There several blood servants were hovering tentatively around the vamp-of-the-hour, William Bernard. Handsome like all vamp males were, his small stature belied the unholy strength his kind wielded when at full health. Even now, he was able to boldly stride out into the crowd’s view which made Jane facepalm.
The arrogant idiot had made himself an open target.
Tired and irritated at such stupidity, Jane growled into her hidden microphone. “Keep a sharp eye out, boys. Mister Fanghead has to play the hero.”
“On it.” came the response from her number two of the security team.
It almost made the huntress’s stomach lurch to see the affronted faces of the other servants. Each had wanted to be the feeder. She rationed. Jealousy ran rampant among blood servants and each was eager to feed the master.
“Disgusting,” she hissed, practically feeling her hackles stand on end.
Although the mountain lion spirit was silent, the being’s agreement was palpable.
“Miss Yellowrock, we need you to come take a look at this.”
Jane cocked her jaw in silent thought but followed the deputy to the scene of the crime. She had neglected to venture into the shed. Its powerful aura of depravity and bloodied torture even put Beast on edge.
But, as the building loomed even closer with each step, Jane steeled herself against the rush of auras and smells. Once she crossed the threshold into the shed, her eyes widened. Deep into the earth what looked to be another chamber had been dug right into the bedrock. Steps had been carved as well leading down into the damp, musty dark.
Suddenly, Jane realized why the officials had wanted her here. To go first. As she made this connection, Jane deadpanned and silently held out her hand for a flashlight. In it was plunked a powerful, military grade flashlight.
She stopped before heading down. Whatever was down there most likely wasn't human. Although she did have her shotgun and its silver-flechette ammo strapped to her person, it would be dangerous to fire it. A simple silver-coated Vamp killer stake would have to do.
Fortunately there was a slew of them strapped to her thigh.
Now the huntress could feel her alter-ego’s fur bristling beneath her skin. The big cat spirit was wary of this silent dark.
“Hello?” Jane called, as she descended, one step at a time. “We’re here to help you.”
Even with Beast’s night sight, the woman could barely make out the strange sigils and symbols carved into the walls. Risking a quick look, she could see even there were rust-colored ruts carved into the floor.
“Blood channels.”
A metallic clanking was heard and the woman spread the flashlights brilliance to the other corners of the chamber. What she saw took even her breath away in horror.
A huge altar wrought of dark stone stood by the back wall. Flanked by opposite facing winged figures, above it hovered the pale form of a human.
Large hooks had been shoved through his shoulder blades while the same had been done to his wrists. Spread out in a cruciform pose, the black lifeblood had clotted on his naked body to which flies and gnats clung.
“Oh God. I need some help!” she yelled behind her. She was surprised to see that some of her team had followed her faithfully into the dark chamber.
Already, two were wrestling with the rusty hoist that held the figure aloft. After a few moments of tugging and cursing, the chain acquiesced into being lowered.
“Is he…” what had to be a newly-badged officer asked.
For a reason she couldn’t name, Jane was at the forefront of the group reaching out to take the descending man.
“Easy,” someone said behind her as the man’s dangling feet touched the altar, followed by his knees. Finally, the man had collapsed into Jane’s outstretched arms which Beast had lent her feral strength to.
The first sign of life came when the man growled weakly beneath her ear.
“Shh,” she whispered, softly caressing the back of his head. Just enough to let him know he was safe.
“We’ll have to remove these hooks at the hospital. Someone cut the chains and we’ll get him out of here.”
The next few minutes seemed to go by in a blur. Someone had found a pair of bolt cutters and just like that the man was free.A stretcher was brought in. Gloved hands eased the man out of Jane’s hold and onto the stretcher where he was fastened securely.
When they wheeled him off, something was pulled out of her grip.
She had been holding his hand.
____________________________________________________________________________
Johnny wanted to stir at the strange voices he heard above. Had they come back to drink from him again? His head was too heavy for his neck so any desire to lift it remained a desire.
His dark black hair covered his face partly and he must’ve passed out momentarily because the next thing he knew a pair of strong sturdy arms encircled him. Oh how he wanted to fight but all he managed was a growl.
“Shh,” had come the whisper while something stroked his hair. It felt so good to be held. Was this the grim reaper? Death? Was she supposed to smell of pine trees and blood?
As he was laid across the soft mattress, he sought the figure’s hand. Not wanting to die alone. For a few seconds he tried to communicate through its firmness, that he was ready to die. This was it.
But at that moment, he could feel himself being moved away from the Death Woman. He held on as long as he could before agony overcame him.