Fight on Undaunted - Chapter Nine
He'd heard her silly shrieking so often, it was hard to tell what she was screaming about most of the time. As her screaming continued, Eric decided it was her tell-tale scream of fear. Cautiously, he crept from his office into the closed club to investigate.
Ginger stood in the middle of the dance floor, surrounded by four naked people, two men, a scrawny teenager and a thin woman. Their animal smell gave them away and the yellow glow in their eyes confirmed it. Werewolves.
Thankfully, Ginger stopped her irritating screaming when she saw him, opting to stare at him in wide eyed hope that he could handle this situation. On the other side of the room, he saw Pam leaning against the wall, staying out of sight of the werewolves, her fangs out.
"Club is closed I'm afraid." His own fangs lengthened.
They instantly turned to face him and he saw immediately that they were going through withdrawal. The werewolves were covered in sweat, adding to their beast-like smell, and were shivering, particularly the female. She was holding a backpack in her shaking hands. I know her, Eric realised. He could faintly smell vampire blood in their system. They're Russell's pet wolves.
When they saw that he'd recognised them, they shifted uneasily and their eyes kept flickering to one of the males, a man so beefy that he must have been pumped full of steroids as well as vampire blood. The male was trying to stare him down as though this was a dogfight, baring his teeth. Maybe to another werewolf it would be intimidating, but it was anything but to a vampire.
Eric blinked twice at him, and on the far side of the room, Pam nodded in understanding. When Eric broke eye contact to assess the other three, the big male werewolf evidently thought that he'd dominated a vampire. He smiled smugly.
Unfortunately, they have the advantage. Despite his excellent hearing, Eric couldn’t tell how many - if any - more of Russell's werewolves were around the club and dawn was extremely near. All the animals had to do was delay them long enough and he and Pam would be trapped in the bar.
There were safe places in the club for such emergencies, but the animals could easily sniff out a vampire's resting place. Coupled with a fire, Eric realised that he might end up seeing the sun again, but without the help of fairy blood.
He glanced at Ginger. She was trembling, and now that he was there, she was trying to look haughty, prove to the werewolves that she was utterly confident in his ability to kick their asses. Her lower lip trembled, wreaking her image, but Eric hoped she thought that he’d try to save her if one of the werewolves did something stupid, like take her hostage.
"We want Russell back," the teen said, trying to sound tough. The boy's eyes glowed yellow. Eric held back a laugh, wondering why on earth this kid would think he’d be frightened by a teenager with messy blonde hair and a feeble effort of stubble mingling with the acne on his cheeks.
Eric shrugged, using the movement to fall into stance that would allow him to strike easily. "No can do."
"He's not dead," the woman said insistently. Her blonde hair was matted with sweat. Withdrawal was never kind; she was shaking so hard now that she nearly dropped the bag.
"Don’t you watch the news? The nice vampire lady on TV says he’s dead," Eric said coldly. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Pam tense up, ready to fight, her eyes never leaving the big male.
"Give us Russell," the second male said. He was covered in tattoos, mainly naked women and wolves. The desperation in his voice was easy to hear. "Or we'll torch your club!"
"Shut up," hissed the female, glaring at him. Apparently verbal threats were not part of their plan. "You idiot!"
What exactly do these wolves want? He reconsidered. Perhaps they stupidly thought that because he'd associated himself with Russell, that he'd be willing to take them in. Feed them his blood, keep them as pets, like Russell had? The very thought made him smile scornfully. Or do they think I'm a friend of Russell's and will help them find their master?
When Eric said nothing and the silence stretched on, the female nervously glanced back at the big male and they nodded at each other. Eric didn't take his eyes off the male as the female tossed the bag to Ginger. Ginger caught it automatically, whimpering. She looked up at Eric, unsure of what to do.
"What's in the bag?" Eric asked casually, casting a quick look at Ginger. Ginger tentatively opened the bag, peering inside, and immediately dropped it.
Eric couldn't help but roll his eyes when she started screaming again. Though he supposed finding a severed hand in a backpack would make a human scream.
The hand was just limp flesh, no blood in it at all. There was a silver ring on the thumb, and the flesh around it had sizzled away slightly before all the blood was drained out. A vampire's hand.
"He tastes real good," the female said, gazing at the hand longingly. "Real good."
"Give us Russell," the big male said ominously, nudging the hand with his bare foot. "Or we'll send you more body parts."
Big threat, Eric thought, unimpressed with their low brow blackmail. Obviously they don't know that vampires can regrow limbs. He looked at them again, going from one hardened face to the other. Why are they so confident that Russell is alive?
They hedged backwards towards the door, cautiously moving around a now crying Ginger. Together, they transformed and all four ran towards the door.
Eric ripped at his wrist with his fangs, and the scent of the blood instantly caught their attention. They swung around, staring at his dripping wrist hungrily. The female was even stupid enough to step towards him, eyes bright with yearning. He almost smiled. Too easy.
Pam pounced on the big male, catching him by surprise and quickly knocked him out first. Unconscious, he shifted into his human form. The female was out cold beside him before she even had the chance to look over. Pam smacked the teenage wolf in the head and he was out cold too. She looked around for the remaining male.
He snarled at her and she snarled back. He jumped towards her and earned himself a spiked heel in the side of his neck. He fell over, thrashing pitifully as blood gushed from his neck.
"Ugh, it'll take us ages to get the dog smell out of here," Pam grumbled, wrinkling her nose. She pulled her blood covered shoe out of the werewolf's neck, taking it off to inspect the damage. "Fucker ruined my shoes."
“See,” Eric said dryly, “this is why we question people before killing them.”
“Three out of four is good enough.” She kicked the dying werewolf in the head with her other foot, killing him and ruining her other shoe. Eric sniggered as she pulled the dripping sandals off. She gazed at them mournfully. “They were such gorgeous shoes too.”
Ginger started shrieking again and they both looked over, irritated. For some macabre reason, she’d dared to look in the bag again and had dragged out a length of jagged skin.
Getting up with an impatient sigh, Pam grabbed Ginger by the shoulder, dragging her, none too gently, to the office.
"Come on, you stupid human." The piece of skin dropped to the floor. She called back, “If that’s Bill’s hand, we are not helping him and Sookie again.”
Eric rolled his eyes. She’s not going to have a functioning brain cell left soon, he thought as he watched Ginger tearfully follow. He waited until his wrist healed over before picking up the hand to inspect it. A very familiar scent hit him.
When Pam came back, minus Ginger, Eric was still standing there holding the hand. She picked up the skin, holding it out in front of her, as if displaying a shirt. “So, who owns this?”
Eric stared at the elaborate tattoo etched into it as she brought it over. Whoever it belonged to was now missing quite a bit of skin, probably from the base of the neck to the lower back. Long waving lines, like claw marks, crossing over each other in a reptilian design. It had been crudely hacked off the owner, there was another part of a marking, a red symbol, but the other half was missing.
"Godric," Eric said hoarsely.
Ginger stood in the middle of the dance floor, surrounded by four naked people, two men, a scrawny teenager and a thin woman. Their animal smell gave them away and the yellow glow in their eyes confirmed it. Werewolves.
Thankfully, Ginger stopped her irritating screaming when she saw him, opting to stare at him in wide eyed hope that he could handle this situation. On the other side of the room, he saw Pam leaning against the wall, staying out of sight of the werewolves, her fangs out.
"Club is closed I'm afraid." His own fangs lengthened.
They instantly turned to face him and he saw immediately that they were going through withdrawal. The werewolves were covered in sweat, adding to their beast-like smell, and were shivering, particularly the female. She was holding a backpack in her shaking hands. I know her, Eric realised. He could faintly smell vampire blood in their system. They're Russell's pet wolves.
When they saw that he'd recognised them, they shifted uneasily and their eyes kept flickering to one of the males, a man so beefy that he must have been pumped full of steroids as well as vampire blood. The male was trying to stare him down as though this was a dogfight, baring his teeth. Maybe to another werewolf it would be intimidating, but it was anything but to a vampire.
Eric blinked twice at him, and on the far side of the room, Pam nodded in understanding. When Eric broke eye contact to assess the other three, the big male werewolf evidently thought that he'd dominated a vampire. He smiled smugly.
Unfortunately, they have the advantage. Despite his excellent hearing, Eric couldn’t tell how many - if any - more of Russell's werewolves were around the club and dawn was extremely near. All the animals had to do was delay them long enough and he and Pam would be trapped in the bar.
There were safe places in the club for such emergencies, but the animals could easily sniff out a vampire's resting place. Coupled with a fire, Eric realised that he might end up seeing the sun again, but without the help of fairy blood.
He glanced at Ginger. She was trembling, and now that he was there, she was trying to look haughty, prove to the werewolves that she was utterly confident in his ability to kick their asses. Her lower lip trembled, wreaking her image, but Eric hoped she thought that he’d try to save her if one of the werewolves did something stupid, like take her hostage.
"We want Russell back," the teen said, trying to sound tough. The boy's eyes glowed yellow. Eric held back a laugh, wondering why on earth this kid would think he’d be frightened by a teenager with messy blonde hair and a feeble effort of stubble mingling with the acne on his cheeks.
Eric shrugged, using the movement to fall into stance that would allow him to strike easily. "No can do."
"He's not dead," the woman said insistently. Her blonde hair was matted with sweat. Withdrawal was never kind; she was shaking so hard now that she nearly dropped the bag.
"Don’t you watch the news? The nice vampire lady on TV says he’s dead," Eric said coldly. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Pam tense up, ready to fight, her eyes never leaving the big male.
"Give us Russell," the second male said. He was covered in tattoos, mainly naked women and wolves. The desperation in his voice was easy to hear. "Or we'll torch your club!"
"Shut up," hissed the female, glaring at him. Apparently verbal threats were not part of their plan. "You idiot!"
What exactly do these wolves want? He reconsidered. Perhaps they stupidly thought that because he'd associated himself with Russell, that he'd be willing to take them in. Feed them his blood, keep them as pets, like Russell had? The very thought made him smile scornfully. Or do they think I'm a friend of Russell's and will help them find their master?
When Eric said nothing and the silence stretched on, the female nervously glanced back at the big male and they nodded at each other. Eric didn't take his eyes off the male as the female tossed the bag to Ginger. Ginger caught it automatically, whimpering. She looked up at Eric, unsure of what to do.
"What's in the bag?" Eric asked casually, casting a quick look at Ginger. Ginger tentatively opened the bag, peering inside, and immediately dropped it.
Eric couldn't help but roll his eyes when she started screaming again. Though he supposed finding a severed hand in a backpack would make a human scream.
The hand was just limp flesh, no blood in it at all. There was a silver ring on the thumb, and the flesh around it had sizzled away slightly before all the blood was drained out. A vampire's hand.
"He tastes real good," the female said, gazing at the hand longingly. "Real good."
"Give us Russell," the big male said ominously, nudging the hand with his bare foot. "Or we'll send you more body parts."
Big threat, Eric thought, unimpressed with their low brow blackmail. Obviously they don't know that vampires can regrow limbs. He looked at them again, going from one hardened face to the other. Why are they so confident that Russell is alive?
They hedged backwards towards the door, cautiously moving around a now crying Ginger. Together, they transformed and all four ran towards the door.
Eric ripped at his wrist with his fangs, and the scent of the blood instantly caught their attention. They swung around, staring at his dripping wrist hungrily. The female was even stupid enough to step towards him, eyes bright with yearning. He almost smiled. Too easy.
Pam pounced on the big male, catching him by surprise and quickly knocked him out first. Unconscious, he shifted into his human form. The female was out cold beside him before she even had the chance to look over. Pam smacked the teenage wolf in the head and he was out cold too. She looked around for the remaining male.
He snarled at her and she snarled back. He jumped towards her and earned himself a spiked heel in the side of his neck. He fell over, thrashing pitifully as blood gushed from his neck.
"Ugh, it'll take us ages to get the dog smell out of here," Pam grumbled, wrinkling her nose. She pulled her blood covered shoe out of the werewolf's neck, taking it off to inspect the damage. "Fucker ruined my shoes."
“See,” Eric said dryly, “this is why we question people before killing them.”
“Three out of four is good enough.” She kicked the dying werewolf in the head with her other foot, killing him and ruining her other shoe. Eric sniggered as she pulled the dripping sandals off. She gazed at them mournfully. “They were such gorgeous shoes too.”
Ginger started shrieking again and they both looked over, irritated. For some macabre reason, she’d dared to look in the bag again and had dragged out a length of jagged skin.
Getting up with an impatient sigh, Pam grabbed Ginger by the shoulder, dragging her, none too gently, to the office.
"Come on, you stupid human." The piece of skin dropped to the floor. She called back, “If that’s Bill’s hand, we are not helping him and Sookie again.”
Eric rolled his eyes. She’s not going to have a functioning brain cell left soon, he thought as he watched Ginger tearfully follow. He waited until his wrist healed over before picking up the hand to inspect it. A very familiar scent hit him.
When Pam came back, minus Ginger, Eric was still standing there holding the hand. She picked up the skin, holding it out in front of her, as if displaying a shirt. “So, who owns this?”
Eric stared at the elaborate tattoo etched into it as she brought it over. Whoever it belonged to was now missing quite a bit of skin, probably from the base of the neck to the lower back. Long waving lines, like claw marks, crossing over each other in a reptilian design. It had been crudely hacked off the owner, there was another part of a marking, a red symbol, but the other half was missing.
"Godric," Eric said hoarsely.