An aura of hate outlined his beefy mass. He swung a length of rebar and hit me again along the small of my back. A lightning bolt of pain shot down my legs. I convulsed and choked.
From my right, a pole with a thick, open hoop on the end like a set of jaws reached toward my neck. My nostrils flared at the metallic smell. Silver. I grasped the pole but the shaft slid through my weakened grip until the hoop closed around my neck. The silver burned the bare skin of my throat. I gagged in pain.
A tall, bearded man twisted the pole so that the silver hoop singed and choked me. His scowling face matched the photograph of Nicolae Dragan, the vânätori leader. The pain and panic kept me from focusing a vampire stare upon him. I fought to stop the agony by jamming my gloved hands under the silver hoop.
Dragan leaned over me and twisted the pole to keep the silver metal hoop pressed against my bare skin.
I writhed on the floor like a fish gaffed in the gills. I groped for the SIG-Sauer.
“Petru,” Dragan yelled instructions to the other vampire hunter, who kicked the pistol from my reach. Petru grasped my right arm and kicked his heavy boot into my armpit. A spasm of excruciating pain shot across my torso and paralyzed me. My arm went limp. Petru looped a steel chain around my wrists and neck, then fastened me to a heavy metal pipe that he laid across my shoulders. He secured the chain to the ends of the pipe with steel padlocks.
Dragan pulled up on the pole, burning the bottom of my jaw, and forced me to get to my knees.
Petru grasped a steel cable and carabiner hanging from the ceiling. He snapped the cable to the pipe at a spot right behind my head.
The silver hoop around my neck opened, and Dragan pulled the pole away. I gasped in relief, light-headed with pain.
Dragan palmed a hand control at the end of an electrical cord dangling from the ceiling. He pressed a button. A winch whined from above and tightened the slack in the cable. The pipe lifted. The chain squeezed around my wrists. My shoulders were wrenched upward. Dragan kept raising the pipe until I danced on tiptoes, crucified. Sickened by waves of pain, I hung my head and retched, tasting bile and blood.
Dragan whisked the knit cap off my head. He grabbed my hair and slapped my face, hard enough to blur my vision. “Show your fangs now, spawn of Satan. Soon I’ll have them in my hand and I’ll be kicking your severed head out into the snow.”
CHAPTER 27
I HUNG FROM THE steel bar. Rallying strength, I narrowed my eyes to focus my gaze and hypnotize Dragan.
He made a chopping motion. Petru whacked the rebar against my back. The blow was a thunderclap of pain. My legs gave out and I slumped against my restraints. The chain around my neck choked me.
Dragan waved Petru away. “I know about your hypnotic powers, vampir. Behave yourself or your last hours will be worse than any nightmare.”
Petru stepped back into the edge of the musty shadows and picked up a sawed-off shotgun. His big hands caressed the wooden stock.
Gasping, I struggled to my feet. The haze of pain receded and my eyes looked to the other side of the garage bay.
Wendy lay on the floor where she had been gagged with duct tape. Her hands were chained and locked together. The left sleeve of her purple scrubs had been torn loose and exposed a bloody bandage that clung to her arm. Her green aura radiated danger. Another of the vânätori in a plaid shirt and denim overalls held the loose end of another chain wound around her neck.
I strained against my steel yoke and motioned toward Wendy. “Let her go. You have me.”
A dirty leer compressed the wrinkles on Dragan’s bearded cheeks. His red aura pulsed with lust. “It’s good to know that even vampires have this kind of weakness. You made it easy for us.”
His leer turned into a scowl. “And what kind of a creature is she?” Dragan’s hands grasped the chain around my neck and dug the steel links into my throat. “She’s no vampire. Not like you, anyway.”
I gasped to catch my breath, frustrated that I was unable to tear out his jugular with my teeth. “She’s human. Of no threat to you.”
“Human?” Dragan tightened the chain. “She has black powers. Before we subdued her with this”-he brandished a yellow plastic Taser gun-“she threw a liquid on Mihail, turned him into a frog, and then stepped on him.” Dragan’s voice hardened. “She stepped on him.”
“Too bad it wasn’t you,” I said. “I’d love to scrape you off my shoe.”
Dragan straightened up. His aura brightened and telegraphed violence. Anticipating the blow, I tensed my neck. He lashed out with the Taser. The plastic gun smashed my nose. Pain shot across my face, and blood seeped from my nostrils.
The blood trickled over my lip and dried. Dragan studied the blood and pinched the flakes between his fingers. The flakes crumbled into powder. He wiped his fingers on my coat lapel. “Even your blood is inhuman.”
Dragan shoved the Taser into the pocket of his jacket. He snapped his fingers. “Teodor.”
Wendy’s guard yanked on her tether and kicked her in the side. I yelled and cursed at them to stop. Teodor snatched a police baton from his belt. He touched a switch on the handle and blue sparks crackled from the business end. He reached for Wendy’s face and ripped off the tape covering her mouth. She winced in pain and cried out, “Felix, forget me. Save yourself.”
Teodor tapped Wendy’s bare arm with the baton. “Shut up, witch.” The end of the baton sizzled against her skin. Wendy writhed and screamed. Her green aura flashed agony.
“Let her go,” I screamed. “She’s innocent.”
“Innocent?” Dragan asked. “She’s a demon like you, Felix.”
Hearing Dragan say my name made this violation ever more personal. I lunged for him and managed just a few inches before the chain gouged deep into my throat.
Dragan grinned smugly. “Go ahead and struggle. You’ll only die tired.”
Though roiling with anger, I decided to save my strength for an opportunity to escape and rescue Wendy. I relented and let my body sag against the restraints as I took in the surroundings.
To my left, hot air radiated from the burner fixed atop the propane tank of a space heater. A plywood table flanked the space heater. On the table rested an ornate brass crucifix, a large leather-bound Bible, and a bowl filled with dark liquid, all surrounded by lit votive candles. At the far end of the table lay a heavy mallet and a thick wooden stake, both obviously meant for me.
Petru handed Dragan the SIG-Sauer automatic.
“A vampire with a gun?” Dragan asked. “Don’t trust your fangs?”
“Come closer and find out.”
“Let me show you a trick about your fangs.” Dragan placed the pistol on the table. He picked up the bowl and held it before me. The thick liquid in the bowl smelled like human blood. In the blood floated two long pointed incisors. Vampire fangs. Wisps of my orange aura pulled toward the teeth, and I could feel the attraction.
“How did we know you were coming? This is how.” Dragan swayed from side to side with the bowl. No matter how he turned, the sharp tips of the fangs followed me. I’d never seen this before. The fangs keyed on my aura.
Being human, Dragan couldn’t see the effect on my aura. He gave me a quizzical look. “I don’t understand how it works, only that it’s based on legend. The teeth float aimlessly on the blood but as soon as one of you vampir approaches, they line up like these do.” His gaze lifted from the bowl to me. “With this secret I have the means to pry all of you demons out of the shadows and into the light of God’s justice. There will be no hole dark enough to hide you now.”