Then…one…two…three.
With one mighty movement, he lifted himself as he twisted his torso, feet to one side, and whipped his legs up like a gymnast, using that momentum and every bit of strength in his arms and shoulders to vault himself up and over the spikes, shoes first, in a wide, high arc.
Then, with a little more thrust to make sure he cleared the top, he let go and landed, flatfooted and slightly out of breath, on the other side, and scooped up his bow and bolts. But he couldn’t take any longer to pause and congratulate himself on not skewering his arse on the top of the fence—he had to get out of sight.
He bolted toward the building, staying in the blind spot as much as he could. He noticed, as he ran toward the indentation of the chimney, that there were four tall windows at ground level, lined up along the back of the school, that seemed to be covered up.
None of the other windows were fully covered—though most of them had drapery of some sort—and that told Max all he needed to know about where the vampires were gathered. He was now flush against the wall, and just as he began to make his way along it toward the closest of those covered-up windows, the covering was pulled away from the third-farthest one.
This galvanized him into immediate action—someone inside knew what they were doing, and he suspected he knew whom—so he bolted toward another of the shrouded windows.
He could hear shouts and screams from inside, and then another of the coverings fluttered and was torn away. By then, Max was there, and he looked inside that window to see a pack of schoolgirls, right on the other side of the glass, now safely bathed in the sunlight.
“Watch out!” he shouted at the girls, for one of them had come up as if to open the window. She stumbled back, taking some of the others with her, and Max swung his crossbow at the glass.
It shattered with a loud, satisfying noise, and he smashed at it again so the shards rained down and fell through, creating a large opening. He used his quiver to push the glass from the edges of the window, then began to help the girls climb out as quickly as possible.
Max couldn’t see much of what was going on inside, but there were sounds of screaming and fighting. He itched to get in there, to find Iscariot, but…the girls. They were the first priority.
“Run,” he ordered as most of them stood on the grass, blank-eyed and confused. “Run around to the front.”
“There’s a man inside—he helped us—but he’s in a bad way,” said one of the older students, who’d also been helping the younger ones climb out from the inside.
“Get a doctor,” he said, lifting out another hostage. When at last he got the final, desperate girl safely onto the grass, Max climbed inside himself.
“Iscariot!” he bellowed, eschewing the safety of the pools of sunshine to step fully into the room and look around.
The first thing he saw was an undead with one of the schoolgirls who hadn’t gotten away. Max yanked a stake from his boot and leaped across the room to slam it into the creature’s heart, even as the vampire tried in vain to hold the girl like a shield.
Glancing around the room to take in the rest of the situation—at least eight more vampires, plus, ah, there was Iscariot, holding the injured man against the wall, and another girl was slumped on the floor—Max ducked into the puff of undead ash and scooped up the student he’d just saved.
He rushed back to the window, and just as he got there, he heard the sound of a great ruckus behind him.
“Iscariot!” cried a female voice. “Show yourself!”
He nearly dropped the girl when he realized it was Macey. Dear God, his daughter was here.
He fairly shoved the schoolgirl through the window; fortunately, one of the police officers was there to catch her. He saw several others coming around the corner at a run. “Stay outside,” he ordered to the one who took the hostage. “All of you. We’ll need a doctor—but stay outside.”
Then he turned back around, gripping his stake, just in time to see Iscariot drop the man he’d been attacking. With a jolt, Max recognized him as he slid to the floor, bloody and unconscious—most likely dead, or near enough to it. But damn—it was definitely Grady.
“Well, look what we have here. Two Gardella Venators. A father and daughter team, is it?” Iscariot taunted, looking back and forth between them as he stood safely in a shadowy area. “I didn’t expect to have both of you as my guests, but you’ll hear no complaints from me.”
Max counted ten undead that gathered near the vampire lord, and realized he’d left his crossbow and quiver on the ground outside the window. He was still standing in the pool of sunlight, and would be protected if he wanted to step back and get them…but he dared not turn his back now. Not with Macey there.
He looked over at her, and saw that her dark hair glinted with undead ash—so she’d taken care of one already. Well done.
Iscariot gestured to the pile of flesh, blood, and bone that was Grady. “Since my previous guest is no longer useful to me, I’ll just have to keep one of you as collateral until the pyramid is delivered. Now which one of you would like to have the honor of staying, and which of you would like to retrieve the pyramid?”
“I’ll have the honor of your heart on my stake,” Macey said, stepping further into the room. She held her weapon like a professional, Max noted with relief.
Then he saw a movement behind her. His heart surged into his throat as he tried to shout a warning, but before he even got the word out, she’d whirled with a neat up-and-over-the-shoulder blow to the undead who’d had the temerity to creep up behind her. The vampire poofed into dust and Macey walked even closer to Iscariot and his group.
“I’m terribly sorry your little plan didn’t work out the way you wanted, Nicky,” she said, sashaying a little as she moved toward them, as if she wanted his eyes on her in that way.
Max couldn’t help but watch with a combination of pride, terror, and enjoyment. It was rather entertaining, really, and it gave him the opportunity to observe and plan for the next assault. He wasn’t foolish enough to think for one moment they had the undead trapped and at their mercy. It was, after all, ten—no, nine—versus two; though he figured he counted as at least three fighters himself. And one of the nine was Iscariot, who was a tricky and powerful devil. Literally.
Max couldn’t wait to drive a stake into his heart, and watch the creature’s face freeze in shock.
“Nice design on your face, there, Nicky,” Max drawled. “Is that cross a stamp of where your loyalty now lies? How does your damned father feel about that?”
Iscariot’s eyes blazed wildly as he turned to Max, and he felt the sudden force of his evil wash over him like an ugly chill. “That decides it. I’ll keep her. And let you watch, Max Denton. Unfortunately, you missed the show the last time I had one of your women for dinner.”
“Thank you for the reminder, Nicky—oh, I like that, Macey. Nicky. It’s catchy and juvenile, and it suits him.” He nodded at his daughter while seeming to be at ease, but his attention was constantly skimming the group of undead and the rest of the room. There would be surprises, he knew. It was just a matter of when. It was clear this whole thing had been planned.
“As I was saying, Iscariot”—his voice became cold as death—“thank you for the reminder of what you did to my wife. Not that I’ve ever forgotten.”
“It took you long enough to come after me, Denton. What has it been…thirteen years? Did it take you that long to build up your courage?”
Max smiled. “Oh, I’ve been busy during those thirteen years—while you were hiding from me, cowering in caves and secluded cities, afraid to show your face for fear I’d find you. In the meantime, I’ve destroyed anything and everything you might return to. There is no escape for you now. And I’ve spent some time learning about all the ways an undead can die. There are more than you might realize.”
“Oh, but you’ve forgotten. We’re already dead. Which is more than I can say for you—at least at the moment. And now that you mention it, I’ve been thinking about keeping your daughter with me…forever. Oh, don’t worry, Denton; I’d take excellent care of her…for centuries, at least. She is quite lovely, and— Now!”
From nowhere came a heavy black wad of netting—launched directly at him, and ballasted with heavy weights that wrapped around him. Max was immediately trapped in the network of cord, and no sooner had the web been fired than the undead were rushing toward him.
He tried to fling the net away, but it was too heavy, and there were too many openings that caught him up. As he dropped to the floor, he glanced over to see that Macey was being attacked by a trio of vampires while Iscariot watched. He saw her plunge a stake, then the poof of resulting ash—but then another undead lunged into the fray and Macey disappeared beneath a wild mass of limbs and torsos.
Incensed, Max rolled away, heading into a block of sunlight while he fished out the knife he carried in a front pocket. The blade was sharp, and it cut easily through the black rope, but a vampire caught the edge of the net before the last of it went into the sun. Max’s half-cocooned body was dragged out of the yellow light as he finished slicing down the front of the net.