Vampire a Go-Go(49)

Father Paul looked at the machine, then back at the melted pile of Cassandra. “What went wrong?”

Allen shrugged. “No clue. Maybe the thing never worked at all.” He hung his head, rubbed his eyes with his palms.

“It’s all over now,” Father Paul said. “I’ll take the stone back to the Vatican, hide it in the secret room where we keep the Ark of the Covenant.”

Allen looked up at the priest. “What?”

Father Paul laughed. “Just fucking with you. But we’ll put it in a safe place.”

The sound of a shotgun shell being pumped into a chamber forced all eyes to Father Starkes.

“Change of plan.” Starkes leveled the shotgun at Father Paul. “The stone comes with me. Drop the weapons, and I won’t splatter you with buckshot.”

Father Paul said, “I have to say, Starkes, this comes as a bit of a surprise.”

“You want a surprise?” Starkes smirked. “Check this out.” He held the shotgun on Father Paul one-handed while he pulled a thin vial of red liquid from his pants pocket with the other. He thumbed out the cork, drank the liquid in one rapid motion.

Starkes’s face began to twitch, the skin going rubbery. It stretched and distorted, then re-formed itself into the leering likeness of Abraham Zabel.

“It’s that asshole,” Amy said.

“I’m the asshole? You little fuckers burn down my whole house, and I’m the asshole?”

“You paralyzed us in your basement,” Amy shot back.

“Oh, yeah,” Zabel said. “Well, tough shit.”

Penny took a step back, kicked off her deck shoes.

Zabel frowned. “What the hell is she doing?”

“This.” Penny grunted, fur spreading across her body as she transformed into the half-wolf.

She sprang at Zabel, claws extended.

Zabel flung his hand up, barked a command word. Lightning sprang from his fingertips, caught Penny in midair. Her body convulsed with the electrical impact. She fell, hit the stone floor hard, and lay still.

Allen leaped to his feet. “Penny!”

Father Paul already had the.45 out of his shoulder holster. He ran for cover while squeezing the trigger, four quick blasts shaking the cavern.

Zabel blasted with the shotgun. Buckshot ricocheted off stone. He pumped in another shell, blasted again. Penny dove for cover one way, Allen another. Zabel and Father Paul exchanged fire. The priest scurried behind the protective lead wall, and Zabel followed him with the shotgun, pumping, blasting, and pumping in another shell.

“Stupid goddamn priest,” Zabel shouted. “All I wanted was the stone. Now it’s got to be hard. You want it hard? You got it.”

Zabel scooped three gray pebbles from his pocket, blew on them, and tossed them to the floor of the cavern. They grew into armored spiders the size of beagles. They scurried behind the lead wall to attack Father Paul.

Father Paul’s.45 thundered behind the wall. He ran out, the last spider pursuing him. It jumped at him, and Father Paul squeezed the trigger twice. The spider crumbled in midair, fell and rolled over on its back, legs curling up.

But Father Paul had broken cover. Zabel leveled the shotgun and squeezed the trigger. It bucked in his hands, buckshot scorching Father Paul’s chest and belly. The priest spun and fell to the ground, hand going to his guts, blood oozing between his fingers.

“No!” Allen shouted. How had it come to this?

“Okay then,” Zabel said. “Anyone else want to get dead? I didn’t think so. Now, I’m taking that stone, and I’m going to walk straight out of-”

The shotgun suddenly glowed fiery orange in his hands. “Shit!” He dropped the shotgun, blew on his scorched palms. “What the hell?”

“Sorry for the dramatic entrance.” Jackson Fay stood by the waterwheel, hands on hips, a manic gleam in his eye. “Hope I’m not interrupting anything.”





FIFTY-THREE




“I realize I’m a little late to the party,” Fay said. “And what I’m about to say isn’t very original, but I’m afraid the philosopher’s stone is coming with me. I’d say something too about standing aside or getting hurt, but the fact is, I have absolutely no problem hurting every single person here.”

Zabel said, “I don’t know who you are, dickhead, but you just bit off a mouthful of trouble.”

“But I know who you are, Mr. Zabel,” Fay said. “You are a sad, second-rate magician with delusions of grandeur. What do you think you would possibly do with the stone? You’d only hurt yourself. You make a good living as a hired spell-peddler. Stick with what you know.”

Allen watched, held his breath.

“Okay, you know who I am,” Zabel said. “Now tell me your name. I want to be able to tell everyone who I killed.”

“My name is Jackson Fay.”

“Uh…” Zabel slowly turned pale. “Yes. I’ve heard of you.”

“Nothing unflattering, I hope.”

“It doesn’t matter,” Zabel said. “I’ll pit my skills against yours any day. Still, maybe we can talk this out, eh?” He wiped the sweat off his forehead with his fingertips. “So tell me. What do you think of this?”

He flicked his fingers at Fay, the sweat droplets flying through the air. Harsh syllables spilled from Zabel’s mouth, and the droplets elongated and hardened, became flashing silver blades, slicing through the air toward Fay’s face.

Fay spat words in return, blew a puff of air when the blades were six inches from his face. The blades jerked to a halt, transformed into silver butterflies, which flapped harmlessly away.

Fay laughed. “Not even close.”

But Zabel was already running toward one of the torches on the wall. He tossed a pinch of dust into the torch flame, followed by elaborate, arcane hand gestures. The flame shot up into an arc and poured itself onto the floor between himself and Fay. The fire formed itself into a flaming bull.

Allen belly-crawled to Father Paul, put two fingers on his throat. A weak pulse. He glanced up, saw Amy trying to get to Penny. Maybe they could all sneak out of here while the wizards dueled.

The flame bull snorted, charged Fay.

Fay cast a spell at the stream that ran to the waterwheel. A giant hand emerged from the stream on a long column of water, reared up like a snake. The palm was ten feet wide. Fay made a swatting gesture, and the hand came down hard and flat on the flame bull.

The water hand exploded on contact, obliterating the bull in a hiss of steam. A ton of warm water surged across the cavern floor, knocked into Allen and Father Paul.

The priest opened his eyes, coughed. “Allen.”

“It’s me. Hold on. We’ll figure out something.”

Father Paul’s chest rose and fell with a wheeze. “Everything’s all wrecked inside me. I’m not going anywhere.”

Allen couldn’t think of anything comforting to say.

“Take this. Maybe it’ll come in handy.” The priest slipped something cold and heavy into Allen’s hand. “You’ll only have a few… a few seconds…” His eyes rolled up.

And Father Paul was no more.

“Thank you, Mr. Zabel,” Fay said. “You’ve been amusing. I liked the bull. I’d have formed it into a minotaur. That would have added a little flare, don’t you think?”

“Fuck you.”

Fay frowned. “Time to end it.”

Fay gestured with both hands at the waterwheel, spoke the words. The waterwheel shook, broke loose from its base, and lifted into the air. It started to spin, faster and faster, then flew straight at Zabel.

Zabel threw up his hands, screamed the words to the counter-spell. The waterwheel halted a foot from his face. He pushed back, sent the waterwheel flying at Fay.

“No, you don’t!” Fay grunted as he willed the waterwheel back toward Zabel.

Allen watched the two wizards struggle, the waterwheel hovering a dozen feet in the air between them. Now was the time.

He dashed toward Amy and Penny, his footfalls splashing water. He was relieved to find Penny still breathing.

“She’s unconscious,” Amy said. “Can you lift her?”

Allen lifted her, put her over his shoulder. “Let’s get the hell out of here.”

“What about the stone?” Amy asked.

“Forget it. I don’t want to be under that waterwheel when it comes down.”

They ran back toward the dam. Two seconds later a cataclysmic crash echoed though the cave, wood splintering, stone crumbling.

“Keep going,” Allen shouted.

They climbed the stairs up the side of the dam. When they reached the top, they paused to look back.

“Oh, hell,” Allen said.

Jackson Fay hovered ten feet in the air, green light glowing around him. He flew toward them, arms outstretched, a maniacal expression twisting his face.

“We’ve got to hurry.”

“No,” Amy said. “He’ll come after us. He’ll follow us and kill us. We’ve got to end this now.”

Fay floated closer.

Allen said, “Unless you’ve got a Sherman tank in your pocket, I suggest we haul ass out of here right now.”

Amy leaned in close, whispered in his ear, “You know how you don’t think I have any magical powers?”

Allen nodded.

Amy grinned. “Well, you’re right.”

She jogged out toward the dam.