Authors: Chris Lange
She didn’t have time to ponder the question as the two men rushed at each other.
Such a violent clash—a loud collision reminding Liv of a lightning strike. Khord struck head-on into his opponent, sending him flying away. Instantly on his feet, Rogan ducked to avoid a huge fist, and punched a hard blow in the brute’s ribs. He howled, obviously hurt and by now very angry.
A little off balance, he took a step sideways, though not fast enough to dodge Rogan’s powerful strikes. Despite his formidable size, Khord went down onto his knees, overthrown by the blows. Rogan kicked him square in the head, only once, and knocked him flat out in a heartbeat. Without a pause, he focused his attention on Liv again.
“You killed him.”
Liv thought her own voice sounded odd. Stunned, unable to understand what had just gone on or who these people were, she felt paralysed. Watching Rogan fight struck an unfamiliar fibre in her, and turned him into a dark angel of justice, efficient but ruthless. On a deep level, she also sensed that he had saved her life.
“I wish I had. Yet he’s alive, and he won’t be out for very long. I’ll deal with him later, but you must go.”
She stood up then, pushing herself up the wall. Unsteady on her feet, she walked to her car, and opened the door.
“Look, I don’t…”
“I know you don’t understand. Believe me, it doesn’t matter. You weren’t supposed to be part of all this anyway.”
“I gathered as much, but I’m afraid I need an explanation.”
Rogan shook his head and gestured to her. She got in the car, and inserted the key in the ignition. Although way more than intrigued, she knew she needed to get a move on. The weird encounter was over. She should have been relieved, yet she felt reluctant to go. How could she be so terribly attracted to this handsome, menacing stranger?
A long hiss coming from behind them ripped her train of thoughts, a slurping voice following the terrible sound.
“You should never have done that, you traitor!”
Khord seemed to have undergone a drastic change, his jaw hanging at an odd angle, his eyes burning with rage. His features were different too, more sluggish. He snarled, showing the teeth that weren’t teeth anymore but vicious canines. As if he had become an animal. As if all trace of humanity had left him. Come to think of it, he looked very much like a vamp… No, that wasn’t a real word! In his right hand, Liv glimpsed a kind of gun. Fear spurring her on, she started the engine.
“You can’t kill me, Khord. It’s against our laws.”
Although Rogan sounded sure of his statement, Liv wouldn’t have bet on it. Confirming her suspicions, the monster glowered. Wickedness and a deep-rooted hatred vibrated in his voice.
“Yeah, well, I guess the law doesn’t apply to traitors like you. You don’t know how I’ve been longing for this very moment, Rogan, when I finally get to blow up that pretty face of yours. What a relief this is going to be. Now say bye-bye, my friend. You die, and I get the girl. But don’t worry about her—I’ll make sure she ends up where she belongs.”
“You’ll never get her. I won’t allow it.”
“Oh, Sir Rogan won’t allow it? Who do you think you are? You’re nothing but a betrayer!” Khord retrieved a tiny bullet from his pocket. “And this little baby is especially for you—made of silver for your sake.”
It all happened in a second. Liv heard the click of a gun, the loud detonation booming around her. She saw Rogan jump in the car next to her, and grunt as he closed the door.
“Go!”
She stamped her foot on the pedal. Tyres screaming, the car rushed out of the parking lot. She swung left past the exit, oblivious of the traffic, determined to reach safety. That was if safety could be found anywhere.
She didn’t see any sign of pursuit in the rear-view mirror. Beside her, Rogan seemed in pain, his head lolling with each curve of the road. The bullet had struck his left shoulder. Keeping a firm hand on the wheel, worry causing her to expel rapid breaths, Liv reached out.
“Don’t touch me!”
Anger flashed in her mind. After everything he had put her through, he had the nerve to turn her down again. A more sensible woman would have pulled over right there and ditched him, as obviously the man was nothing but big trouble. Why didn’t she?
Because, in spite of her reasoning, he fascinated her. Her foot down, she didn’t manage to avoid a bump on the road, and Rogan shuddered. Pain probably flaring up his arm, he pressed the wound. Recognising ghastly signs of death on his face, Liv realised it might already be too late for him. Without any way to tell how long he’d last, she asked the question that had been reeling in her mind since he had saved her life.
“You’re a vampire, aren’t you?”
Chapter Three
Silence. A police siren screeched in the west, a vehicle honked somewhere behind them. As the lights turned green ahead, Liv ignored the freeway. Locked in her car with a wounded, supposedly fictional creature, she wondered if she’d soon wake up from a creepy nightmare. Beside her, Rogan nodded.
“I’m a dying vampire.”
“What do you mean? I thought vampires were immortals.”
“They aren’t. They can be exposed to broad daylight, decapitated, staked in the heart, burnt alive with blessed water, or shot with a silver bullet. Take your pick. Silver is poison to us, and right now it’s killing me.”
“Sure, but vampires aren't real. I mean I can’t believe this crap!”
Although her rational mind still seemed reluctant to acknowledge this distressing possibility, Liv hesitated. Somehow she had known the truth. She just hadn’t been able to admit it until Rogan had agreed.
She’d been born into a world where fantasy writers used their imagination to create werewolves, trolls, goblins, shape-shifters, and sometimes hungry-for-flesh aliens from other planets. Those were stories for people craving to live in a fantastic universe. Not real, not real. On the other hand, the dying man beside her seemed real enough.
“Vampires don’t exist.” She had to state it aloud. Who knew, maybe Rogan would suddenly tell her he had been kidding all along.
“Not in your world, they don’t.”
“Are you telling me that I’m in some kind of fourth dimension?”
“No.” A hint of a smile touched the corners of his mouth, in spite of his pain. “We are in your familiar world, never doubt that, but there are other places, dark places. Trust me, you don’t want to go there.”
“Places with vampires?”
“I come from another world. No humanity, no sun, no life. Only order, uniformity and extinction.”
Caught in the swirl of the conversation, Liv roughly avoided another car coming from the left. Rogan grunted when the sudden jerk threw him against the window. She changed lanes, risking a glance at him.
“How do you survive?”
“What do your legends say?” A weird question, although his interest sounded genuine.
“That vampires feed on blood.”
“Then it must be true.”
She needed answers, and hoped he wouldn’t dodge them. “But if there are no humans in your world, where do you get blood?” As soon as the question came out of her mouth, Liv understood.
“There aren’t many vampires left. Ages ago, one of our scientists discovered a Formula called ‘The Solution’. A drop of blood mixed in that Formula and diluted in water feeds everyone for days. All we need is fresh blood from time to time. A single human and our race can survive.”
Okay, not a heavy toll to pay. Still, as they needed humans to provide them with food, they had to pick them here.
“How often do you come?”
“About once a month.”
One man or woman every month—surely not often enough to alert the authorities and the population about mysterious disappearances.
The way Liv saw it, hordes of vampires could go about this business forever without fear of being noticed.
“Why you?”
“Because I’m a hunter.”
Taking her eyes off the road for a second, she glanced at the dying creature of the night.
“You hunt people?”
Rogan nodded. “Yes, it’s my duty. I didn’t choose to be a hunter. I’ve been gifted with the scent.”
“The scent?”
“I can smell the right person just by being close to them. Other vampires, like Khord, don’t have that ability. He’s a warrior.”
Did he mean some people were good to eat and others bad? In his world, did they have five-star restaurants and popular canteens?
“Why do you say the right person? Blood is blood, isn’t it?”
“No. For ‘The Solution’ to be effective it has to be type A blood. All other types are discarded. They aren’t poison to us, but they’re inefficient, not nourishing. In a funny way, most people don’t know how lucky they are. Now, if I’m not mistaken, it’s the same for humans. You need to be compatible.”
He might have been right, even if the comparison sounded a bit gross. Liv had about a million more questions to ask him. Every fibre of her being shrieked that danger and death sat beside her, yet his story captivated her.
Really? Was she being honest with herself? Was she enchanted by the kind of life he led, or by the way he looked and moved? Or by the powerful sensation she had experienced when he had caught her in his arms?
“Where are you taking me?” Rogan asked, his hand pressed on his shoulder wound, his features distorted with pain.
Although unsafe for her, Liv had an idea. Still she had a mile to make up her mind, so she decided to dodge the question for a while.
“I admit I don’t know my blood type, but you told your friend I wasn’t an A. So, why did you attack me?”
“Khord isn’t my friend.” Rogan’s growl sent a shiver down her spine. “Don’t ever make that assumption again.”
She kept silent, waiting for the answer.
“I was misled. I was hiding in the shadows when you got to your car, watching you, taking in your scent. At first it seemed you smelt like an A, but not quite, so I decided to clear the matter up. I never imagined you could be pure blood. I realised my mistake too late. Only when I touched your neck and started, well, you know…”
“Killing me?”
“I never intended to kill you.” Rogan’s deep sigh might have been a groan of pain, yet he carried on. “It’s just that unconscious bodies are more convenient to transport.”
This time, Liv didn’t want any more gross details. Maybe later, she’d ask him where he transported bodies.
“Do you often make that kind of mistake?”
“Never. Not once. But how could I have guessed you were the…?” His voice trailed off.
“The what?”
From his tone, she sensed that a vital piece of information was coming her way, like an impending doom. Edgy, hands gripping the steering wheel, she waited until out of the corner of her eye, she saw him subsiding against the window. Rogan had passed out.
When they reached their destination, Liv shook him out of his slumber. Although kind of groggy, he let her help him up the steps before she closed the front door behind them. Once in the foyer, he watched his surroundings, his gaze guarded and wary.
“Where are we?”
“Home.”
As soon as she spoke the words, she felt his body harden against her, and his arm stiffen around her shoulder.
“It’s too risky.”
“Why? Is he coming after me? How is he going to find me anyway? He isn’t psychic, is he?”
“No, but he’ll get help and I won’t last very long. I can feel my strength waning. What will you do with my body?”
He spoke in such a low voice her stomach tightened. Liv had known him less than an hour, and to say the least his intentions remained unclear, yet she didn’t want him to die. Then again, what could she do about it? All she had going for her was positive thinking. Not much in the face of death.
“You won’t die. You just need to rest for a while.”
Rogan grabbed her arm. He might be in agony, but his grip on her still felt strong.
“Don’t kid yourself, there’s no time for that. I’ll be dead in a few minutes.”
As if his words weren’t dreadful enough, he squeezed her arm to hammer his meaning home.
“Ouch! You’re hurting me.”
“Sorry.”
He let go of her arm before taking off his long coat to get a close look at his injury. The bullet had deeply pierced his shoulder, tearing flesh, and the exit wound felt cold to the touch when Liv brushed shaky fingers on it.
When he had crossed the foyer into the living room, Rogan lay down on the couch, his strained expression signifying the end had come for him. White as a ghost, gaze feverish from poison, face contorted with pain, he closed his eyes like a man who had given up.
Obviously, the silver had quickly invaded his body, slaying one of the not-so-immortals in its wake. When Liv approached him, he opened his eyes to take hold of her hand. Back in the parking lot he had been so adamant that she should not touch him, the natural gesture surprised her.
“How come you’re not afraid of touching me anymore?”
“Doesn’t really matter now, does it?”
He flinched with pain, his body weakening from the deadly poison. His speech quick and ragged, he then revealed his suspicions, all the while holding her hand.
By now, Khord should have guessed who Liv really was, along with the threat she represented to their race. Although he had been defeated for a while, he wouldn’t let it go. He’d come after her because that was his duty as well as his nature. Not only would the thick-headed brute be back to finish the job, but he might also bring back-up.
In spite of his degrading condition, Rogan seemed reluctant to tell her the truth. Considering that she couldn’t figure out what he was talking about, she wondered why. Yet he obviously felt her life had been endangered, and he made a final attempt at warning her.
“Listen to me.”
Subjected to his solemn stare, Liv knelt on the floor right by his side. Their hands joined.
“There is an ancient legend among my race. It says that on the dawn of Doom’s Day, vampires will rule the world. All the worlds. But a great enemy will stand in their path. He is One and Only. He is named the Bringer of Death. He is pure, invisible, and his touch is lethal.”
Rogan paused. Inhaling with difficulty, he seemed to be summoning his last strength to end the story.