Vampire$

penalty?”

And it took the other half of the bolt, the pointed end, and hurled it straight down at its feet and the point disappeared completely out of sight into the floor.

Felix’s gun was in his hand. He raised it.

The vampire turned sharply to him at the motion.

“You point that toy at me and I will, quite literally, rip your spine from your body.”

Felix damn near dropped the pistol to the floor. Just from that voice.

Crow wasn’t finished.

“Lights!” he yelled and keyed his on and there was a brief pause but then every one of them did the same and the halogen crosses burst forth and crisscrossed the wicked form and the thing frowned and winced and took a step back and raised a hand to shield his eyes.

“He doesn’t like it!” announced Crow excitedly.

But the vampire just snorted in derision and said, “Why no, Crow. I don’t like it. But this won’t kill me either.”

And it took a step forward once more.

“Anything else?” it asked and the voice was dry and sarcastic. “Garlic, maybe? Rabbit’s foot?” And it looked straight at Crow. “Well, Pope’s little altar boy. Very well.”

And he started toward Crow and they all saw, in the glare from their lights, the clear liquid seeping from beneath the headband and suddenly Crow understood and, better, so did Felix. The silver-cross wound. The wound that would not heal.

Felix raised his pistol.

“I told you not to do that!” snapped the monster.

“So you did,” replied Felix and fired three times and got him maybe two times? At least once, for sure, for sure, and then Team Crow scattered as one for the exit, for that big broad double door with sunshine beyond it and Felix skidded he took off so fast — had no idea where the monster was, he had practically disappeared he had moved so fast and then Felix felt this rush of air past his cheek and thought, My God, could it be? Could anything move so fast? It couldn’t already be in front of me.

The monster loomed in front of him, glaring pale in the bobbing halogen cross. It reached forward and snatched the pistol from Felix’s hand and, hissing slow and deep and wet, raised the gun in front of Felix’s face and… squeezed it… and crushed it.

Crushed it like it was made of soft chocolate.

And Felix, unarmed and helpless, thought of this hissing thing which could rush thirty feet when he could only make two steps — with a bullet in it. This thing that could crush an automatic revolver.

And he looked into the blood-red eyes and saw the fangs go back and knew he was going to die… when the double doors came open fifteen feet behind the vampire, and from head to heels, he burst immediately into scarlet pulsing flame.

The monster turned instinctively toward the pain, and ice-cold spittle splashed Felix as the monster’s face spun away from him and for just an instant the two of them, the monster and the gunman, saw Carl Joplin large and fat standing holding the doors open, huffing and puffing and then the monster was looking at Felix again and screeching and Felix knew it would kill him as it raced past him into the shadows and he drew and fired his second Browning and the silver bullet made a neat hole in the dead center of the headband and Felix dropped to the floor to avoid those claw/hands that flashed but the monster was already gone in a howling streak of scarlet popping flame, across the floor, all fifty feet of it and slamming into the elevator shaft and down through the hole it had made and out of sight.

And the howling. And the flicker of red flame still hanging in the air and reflected in the elevator shaft.

Then quiet. Quiet. The flame dissipating. Quiet. Still.

Felix looked up from his squat on the floor and saw all the others. They hadn’t managed to move five feet the entire time and now they just stood there and stared at him and he thought: it was me, all me, just killing me, just flashing fangs at me.

Then he thought no more but to run, with all the others, toward the light. And then crouched over hands on knees and panting on the front steps in the sunshine, Jack Crow ordered Carl Joplin to keep those doors open, to prop ’em open if he had to.

Felix and the others, Deputy Thompson and Cat and Father Adam — all of them — nodded when Crow said this. Yes, yes, keep those doors open. Keep that sunlight streaming in. Keep it back, back downstairs. Down in the cells underground and out of reach.

Felix caught his breath and saw the others looking at him. He looked away, dammit, from those slow lucky ones, and back into the jail.

And the others, all of Team Crow, followed his gaze and looked and thought and knew they were thoroughly beaten.

Whipped.

We could never take that guy.

That god?

Chapter 19

Carl didn’t say a word, just gathered them up and herded them over to the motorhome and sat them down in the shade. Iced tea. Cigarettes. More cigarettes.

Finally: “What happened, bwana?” asked Carl Joplin.

Crow looked at him. “Is the plastique ready?”

Carl frowned. “That bad?”

“Carl, I’m not sure that’s going to work.”

“Oh. Well, we may have a little…” Carl stopped as the six policemen appeared.

“Kirk,” said one of them, “we need to talk.”

Kirk looked wearily in their direction, then stood up and joined them. They huddled up several steps away.

“They don’t look happy,” offered Cat.

“I don’t blame them,” replied Carl.

Crow sighed. “Okay. Let’s have it.”

“The Mayor & Co. are back and pissed.”

“How pissed?”

“We’re trapped.”

Father Adam leaned forward. “Define ‘trapped.’”

“Boxed in. Barricaded. Six square blocks of downtown. No in. No out. Just the team and those six cop buddies of the deputy’s. And they’re about to leave.”

“They are?”

“Got to. The chief fired them by radio just about the time y’all went in the second time.”

“But they stuck by us?” asked Father Adam.

Carl shrugged. “They wouldn’t leave without Kirk.”

Cat, remembering the deputy’s javelin-toss of the pike, said, “I don’t blame them.”

They looked up as Kirk came back.

“How does it look, deputy?” Crow asked him.

Kirk and the other policemen exchanged looks before he spoke.

“I think they’re going to try to arrest us in the next few minutes.”

Carl groaned. “Aw, shit!”

The deputy went on. “They’ve got riot gear and tear gas and assault weapons and the rest of it. They’re