Blood of the Devil

Chapter 16 - The Big Bad Bloodsucker

“Their hearts were as black as all the other sins, and they shied from the light, lest it burn their skin. They were unholy, abnormalities, so crosses and holy water burned them. They preyed on what they once were with vicious, cruel glee, so they were prevented from entering the houses of those who weren’t likewise. They were able to create more of themselves by not entirely draining the blood of their victims, the venom in their teeth doing the rest. They hunted in packs.

“In this way, they entered the workshop of a carpenter, a sadistic man who enjoyed causing pain. To fend them off, he grabbed the leg of a chair he was carving, plunging it into the first’s heart. The vampire gasped, and turned to dust. Another caught him about the neck, snapping the carpenter’s spine as the man plunged the chair leg into the creature’s stomach. It screamed in fury, letting the body fall to the ground, but removed the wood easily. As it feasted on the carpenter’s blood, the wound healed abnormally fast.”

Letha swallowed heavily, raising her eyes. Mickey was staring at her, aghast, and Cassie looked disgusted, her lip drawn into a sneer. Hadrian extended his fingers, clasping his sister’s hand warmly and giving it a gentle squeeze. Letha frowned at him and wrenched her arm away.

“In their room,” she continued, scowling at her brother, “the carpenter’s children watched their father killed and then drained. Because their hearts were pure, the vampires could not enter their home, could not get to them where they huddled on the kitchen floor, holding each other and sobbing. Not at the loss of their father, but at the barbarity of the act. There was no doubt in any of their young minds,” Letha sounded envious at the notion, “that these monsters had killed good people too. For the rest of their lives, they sought vengeance. They became the first vampire hunters.”

As Letha finished, folding her arms across her chest, a slow clapping came from outside. Again, she pressed her eye to the glass. Archer was still standing there, and he met her eye.

“Now that you’ve finished,” he called softly, “care to deal with me?”

Behind her, Azrael raised a cautious hand, “Perhaps it would be better…”

But Letha had heard the challenge in Archer’s question, and she hauled open the door. He was leaning against the frame, his dark eyes centimetres from hers. Mickey took a step back.

“You have no iris’,” he stated, a hand drifting to his own eyes in wonder.

The pupils in question flickered to him, “all the better to see you with.”

“He has no pulse either,” Letha snapped, folding her arms across her chest.

“All the better to drain you with.” Archer’s tone was almost sad.

“What I don’t understand,” Cassie whined, “Is why we’re not staking him!” She was glaring at Archer in distaste, her lip curled up, and she crossed her legs quickly.

“A) shut up Bessie.” Almost gleeful, Letha turned to smile at her, “B) please feel free to stretch your arm across the doorstep and be eaten alive. Not in the strictest sense, I’ll grant you, but please, feel free.” She jerked her head back to Archer as the girl opened her mouth once more.

“And C),” Letha said curtly, cutting her off, “Shut up Bessie.”

Archer looked over her shoulder, running his eyes over Cassie. He grunted in appreciation, shrugging at Letha, “She’s pretty fine.”

“She’s a pincushion!” she protested, “I like you better at the house where you have no personality.”

Cassie was blushing, and not even she knew whether it was with irritation or pleasure.