Guilty Pleasures

“That makes us even,” I said.

She giggled. The sound made my teeth hurt. If she really wanted to torture me, all she had to do was lock me in a room and laugh at me. Now that would be hell.

“Come on, boys and girls, let’s go play in the dungeon.” Nikolaos led the way. Burchard motioned for us to follow. We did. Zachary and he brought up the rear, guns in hand. Phillip stood uncertainly in the middle of the room, watching us go.

Nikolaos called back, “Have him follow us, Zachary.”

Zachary called, “Come, Phillip, follow me.”

He turned and walked after us, his eyes still uncertain and not really focused.

“Go on,” Burchard said. He half-raised the rifle, and I went.

Nikolaos called back, “Gazing at your lover; how nice.”

It wasn’t a long enough walk to the dungeon door. If they tried to chain me to the wall, I’d rush them. I’d force them to kill me. Which meant I’d better rush Zachary. Burchard might wound me or knock me unconscious, and that would be very, very bad.

Nikolaos led us down the steps and out into the floor. What a day for a parade. Phillip followed, but he was looking around now, really seeing things. He froze, staring at the place where Aubrey had killed him. His hand reached out to touch the wall. He flexed his hand, rubbing fingers into his palm as if he was feeling something. A hand went to his neck and found the scar. He screamed. It echoed against the walls.

“Phillip,” I said.

Burchard held me back with the rifle. Phillip crouched in the corner, face hidden, arms locked around his knees. He was making a high, keening noise.

Nikolaos laughed.

“Stop it, stop it!” I walked towards Phillip, and Burchard shoved the gun against my chest. I yelled into his face, “Shoot me, shoot me, dammit! It’s got to be better than this.”

“Enough,” Nikolaos said. She stalked over to me, and I gave ground. She kept walking, forcing me to back up until I bumped against the wall. “I don’t want you shot, Anita, but I want you hurt. You killed Winter with your little knife. Let’s see how good you really are.” She strode away from me. “Burchard, give her back her knives.”

He never even hesitated or asked why. He just walked over to me and handed them to me, hilt first. I didn’t question it either. I took them.

Nikolaos was suddenly beside Edward. He started to move away. “Kill him if he moves again, Zachary.”

Zachary came to stand close, gun out.

“Kneel, mortal,” she said.

Edward didn’t do it. He glanced at me. Nikolaos kicked him in the bend of the knee hard enough to make him grunt. He dropped to one knee, and she grabbed his right arm and tugged it behind his back. One slender hand grabbed his throat.

“I’ll tear out your throat if you move, human. I can feel your pulse like a butterfly beating against my hand.” She laughed and filled the room with warm, jostling horror. “Now, Burchard, show her what it means to use a knife.”

Burchard went to the far wall, with the door above him at the top of the steps. He laid the rifle on the floor, and unbuckled his sword harness, and laid that beside the rifle. Then he drew a long knife with a nearly triangular blade.

He did some quick stretches to limber his muscles, and I stood staring at him.

I know how to use a knife. I can throw well; I practice that. Most people are afraid of knives. If you show yourself willing to carve someone up, they tend to be afraid of you. Burchard was not most people. He went down into a slight crouch, knife held loose but firm in his right hand.

“Fight Burchard, animator, or this one dies.” She pulled his arm, sharp, but he didn’t cry out. She could dislocate his shoulder, and Edward wouldn’t cry out.

I put the knife back in its right wrist sheath. Fighting with a knife in each hand may look nifty, but I’ve never really mastered it. A lot of people don’t. Hey, Burchard didn’t have two knives either. “Is this to the death?” I asked.

“You will not be able to kill Burchard, Anita. So silly. Burchard is only going to cut you. Let you taste the blade, nothing too serious. I don’t want you to lose too much blood.” There was an undercurrent of laughter in her voice, then it was gone. Her voice crawled through the room like a fire-wind. “I want to see you bleed.”

Great.

Burchard began to circle me, and I kept the wall at my back. He rushed me, knife flashing. I held my ground, dodging his blade, and slashing at him as he darted in. My knife hit empty air. He was standing out of reach, staring at me. He had had six hundred years of practice, give or take. I couldn’t top that. I couldn’t even come close.

He smiled. I gave him a slight nod. He nodded back. A sign of respect between two warriors, maybe. Either that, or he was playing with me. Guess which way I voted?

His knife was suddenly there, slicing my arm open. I slashed outward and caught him across the stomach. He darted into me, not away. I dodged the knife and stumbled away from the wall. He smiled. Dammit, he’d wanted to get me out in the open. His reach was twice mine.

The pain in my arm was sharp and immediate. But there was a thin line of crimson on his flat stomach. I smiled at him. His eyes flinched, just a little. Was the mighty warrior uneasy? I hoped so.

I backed away from him. This was ridiculous. We were going to die, piece by piece, both of us. What the hell. I charged Burchard, slashing. It caught him by surprise, and he backpedaled. I mirrored his crouch, and we began to circle the floor.

And I said, “I know who the murderer is.”

Burchard’s eyebrows raised.

Nikolaos said, “What did you say?”

“I know who is killing vampires.”

Burchard was suddenly inside my arm, slicing my shirt. It didn’t hurt. He was playing with me.

“Who?” Nikolaos said. “Tell me, or I will kill this human.”

“Sure,” I said.

Zachary screamed, “No!” He turned to fire at me. The bullet whined overhead. Burchard and I both sank to the floor.

Edward screamed. I half-rose to run to him. His arm was twisted at a fu

Zachary’s gun went off twice, and Nikolaos took it away from him, tossing it to the floor. She grabbed him and forced him against her body, bending him at the waist, cradling him. Her head darted downward. Zachary shrieked.

Burchard was on his knees, watching the show. I stabbed my knife into his back. It thunked solid and hilt-deep. His spine stiffened, one hand trying to tear out the blade. I didn’t wait to see if he could do it. I drew my other knife and plunged it into the side of his throat. Blood poured down my hand when I took the knife out. I stabbed him again, and he fell slowly forward, face down on the floor.

Nikolaos let Zachary drop to the floor and turned, face bloodstained, the front of her pink dress crimson. Blood spattered on her white leotards. Zachary’s throat was torn out. He lay gasping on the floor but still moving, alive.

She stared at Burchard’s body, then screamed, a wild banshee sound that wailed and echoed. She rushed me, hands outstretched. I threw the knife, and she batted it away. She hit me, the force of her body slamming me into the floor, her scrambling on top of me. She was still screaming, over and over. She held my head to one side. No mind tricks, brute strength.

I screamed, “Nooo!”

A gun fired, and Nikolaos jerked, once, twice. She rose off me, and I felt the wind. It was creeping through the room like the begi

Edward leaned against the wall, holding Zachary’s dropped gun.

Nikolaos went for him, and he emptied the gun into her frail body. She didn’t even hesitate.

I sat up and watched her stalk towards Edward. He threw the empty gun at her. She was suddenly on him, forcing him back into the floor.

The sword lay on the floor, nearly as tall as I was. I drew it out of its sheath. Heavy, awkward, drawing my arm down. I raised it over my head, flat of the blade half resting on my shoulder, and ran for Nikolaos.