The Kiera Rion series: Chapter one

 

I lashed out and tore up with my knife.  I could feel a soft release as the knife sliced into flesh.  Somewhere in the darkness, my opponent swore.  I smiled and side stepped the vampire’s claws.  Silver blades really piss them off.

            “So, tell me little Kiera, famed slayer of the undead, what is the going rate for my head? What price did you agree upon before you came to try to steal my dark gift?”

            That’s what the Vampires called their undead so-called life.  The dark gift.  I’m a bounty hunter.  No, I’m not one of those lackies who works for a bondsmen and collects all the losers who don’t make their court date.  I specialized in the undead.  It’s my job to hunt down these monstrosities and destroy their gift, for a small fee.  The fine print of it is that you can’t be too obvious.  No killing where people can see you.  Most people don’t know about the preternatural world, and probably wouldn’t want to know.  I have an upper edge on most bounty hunters in that I’m half Seraphim.  My Mother was human, and my father was a Seraph.  He was killed when I was only five, and if I ever find that vampire, I’ll do him for free.  Legend has it, the Devil sent the Vampires to walk the night, and God sent the Seraphim to stop them.  The word Seraphim is derived from Hebrew.  It means a fiery, flying serpent.  The association was supposedly made when people first saw a Seraph kill a vampire and it turned to ashes at his blade.  His wings were exposed, and the legend of Angels began.  Unfortunately, I had no wings.  Mom’s genes.  Who really knows the truth about our origin anymore, though?  All I know is I kill these b******s, and I get paid.  True, it’s my ancestral duty to kill them, but a girl’s gotta make a living somehow.  I just chose to live off of what I do best.

            “For you, Isaac?  I gave my client the blue light clearance- five hundred dollars.”  I was lying.  It was considerably more, but if he wanted to play games, I could play. 

            He gave a deep laugh which filled the alley.  A white blur came from the velvet darkness.  I caught the hand and dropped back, placing my foot on his ribs and rolled Isaac into a graceful throw which landed him a considerable distance away from me.  He tried to grab my leg before I launched him.  Luckily, all he managed were a few shallow cuts. At least I hoped that was all he’d managed.  You never really know until you survey the damages.

            “You’re going to die for five hundred dollars? Oh, I pity you, Kiera.  I really do.”  He was getting closer, slightly to my left.  I clenched the knives and prepared.  This would be so much easier if I had my gun.  Hell, I’d settle for my sword.  Anything to keep him out of arms reach.  All I had was six inches of silver.  Deadly, yes, but only in close range.  I much preferred the FN hi-power single action fifteen round gun which lay in the depths of my supply bag.  I had slain many Vampires more powerful than Isaac, but he had gotten the drop on me.  I had been on my way to his night haunt, but someone must have clued him in that I was coming.  He was waiting for me.  But who?  I don’t tell my plans or strategies to anyone, trusted or not.  But I couldn’t worry about that now.  I would worry about it later.  Either way, all I had left were the blades.  Not good.  I just had to keep my focus. 

            “No, I paid them.” I jabbed with the blade.

            The vampire laughed again as he deflected my next swipe.  The laughter played along my skin.  It felt like ants were crawling all over my body.  He was trying to distract me, and to be honest, I really couldn’t afford any distractions.

            I readjusted my grip on my knives and took a deep breath.  I heard movement to the right and the claws contacted with my arm. A vampire’s nails are razor sharp. They cut through flesh like butter.  It didn’t feel deep, but then again, it never does.  Either way, I didn’t have time to worry about it now.

            The alley was pitch black. I had excellent night vision, but his was better.  One of the perks of being a vampire, I suppose.  I could only see the outline of his pallid skin.  The fact that he was clad in black was not helping.  Not optimal sparring conditions in my humble opinion, but then again, I didn’t really get to pick.  I threw out my aura, trying to locate him.

            He was close.  Closer than I wanted him at the moment.  Then he was on me.  He shoved me against the wall, hands pinned above my head.  At least I still had a good grip on the knives.  Bully for me.  He platinum hair was styled into spikes with only the bangs falling down, hitting just above his eyes.  I stared into those black eyes and I couldn’t tell the pupil from the iris.  They were like polished onyx set into pearl.   Some Vampires could capture people with their eyes.  It would be like falling into a great black precipice.  You would forget who you are and everything you have ever stood for.  A smile spread across his pale face, flashing his fangs.  He breathed into my ear.  “So, who is this mysterious client?”

I returned his smirk.  “Sorry, but telling would be a violation of hunter-client confidentiality.”  I smashed my forehead into his nose.  Blood poured down his mouth onto his shirt.  So much for his evening meal.         He recoiled and I sliced his cheek open, sending more blood cascading down his face.  Now it was my turn to laugh.

            “You b***h!” he hissed.

            “What’s the matter Isaac, did I spoil your good looks?” Silver is the only metal that can scar a vampire.  In fact, it’s the only metal that can harm them.  You can shove a stainless steel blade into a vampire, and while it may hurt them, it will heal as soon as the blade is removed.  I wasn’t worried that the gash would scar him because by the time I was done with him, I’d hoped he would be a pile of ashes.  No evidence, no body, no questions.  I gathered my aura and threw that at him next, slicing his other cheek.

            He screamed in rage and threw his power at me with enough force to throw me back a few feet.  I turned in the air and hit the pavement with my hands, rolled with the motion, and was back on my feet.  He was following fast behind.

            I slashed again with the blade and missed.  The vampire grabbed my arm and threw me against the wall.  Hard.

            I was dazed.  Hell, I was almost out.  If the angle of my body had been a little different...

But Isaac had all the time he needed.  He was lightning fast, behind me before I could recover. He grabbed my arms into a lock and spread out my feet so I was off-balance.  There ought to be some sort of rule against Vampires being so damn strong.  Sure, I was stronger than the average mortal man, but being five foot three, half a foot shorter than he, and outweighed by about sixty pounds, he had me beat.

            He brushed my long, blonde hair away from my neck.  “You know Kiera, it really is a shame it has to end this way.”  Breathing heavily, he pressed his cheek against my neck.  Revolting.  Vampires have no real need to breathe.  His sensuous sighs were all for show.  Most Vampires only did it to get their victim’s adrenaline flowing.  Adds to the flavor, I guess.

            He pressed his nose into my hair and inhaled deeply.  I shivered in disgust.  “We could have made a grand time of it... I love blondes.” 

            He moved his face slowly down my neck, licking along the jugular vein.  Then he moved down to my arm and licked a slow, wet line up the wound.  He probed his tongue into the gash, licking the blood slowly. 

“Maybe when I’m done with you we could still have a good time, eh?  I’m sure Thane wouldn’t mind too terribly.”  I tried to twist away.  The vampire quickly straightened and tightened his grip, searing pain encased my arms.  When I stopped struggling, he slowly put his cheek back on my throat.

            “Seraphim blood.  Oh, Kiera.  What would your ancestors think of you?  A Seraphim, beaten by a vampire hardly out of triple digits?”

            He was just playing with me now.  He’d known I was Seraphim the same way I knew he was a vampire- the aura.  Vampires and Seraphim give off distinctly opposite auras.  Theirs suffocates them like the Black Death and will send creeping sensations along the skin.  A Seraphim’s aura embraces them and gives off a sense of warmth and comfort.

            He let out a soft sigh, rotating his cheek, nuzzling my neck.  He was dragging this out too long, toying with me, trying to raise some fear in me.  I’m told it adds a most delicate taste to the blood.  I turned my head and spit at him.

            “If you’re going to do it, then get it over with.”

            He laughed. It seemed to melt my skin. “So anxious.  All in good time, my dear. I’m rather enjoying this.”  He kissed my neck and I felt the tips of his fangs softly caress my throat before he rolled my mind.

            The sweet smell of fresh grass overcame me, and I was lying in a meadow, surrounded by the ambrosial spring grass.  The breeze caressed my face and sent the grass fluttering in waves. Then I was lost in an endless ocean of midnight blue.  The moon illuminating the foam on the tips of waves which rolled softly to meet the sandy beach.  The beach was like a perfect diamond.  It seemed as though each individual grain of sand has its own inner light and shone with an insurmountable brilliance.  The waves flowed onto the beach, washing over the sand, and gently retreating.  It was almost as if the sand didn’t want the waves to go.  The water was so relaxing, so inviting, so serene.  I started toward those dark waves.  The sand was cool under my feet as the surf washed over them.  Kissing them.  Caressing them.  Leading them.  I knew true peace lay in the depths of those tranquil waves.  Those beautiful black waves.   I was drowning, drowning in the unrelinquishing grasps of tranquility.  The blue tides engulfed me and I was falling into the moonlit abyss, and it was okay.  It was peaceful.  It was...

            NO!

            The ocean vanished.  I could hear his mouth sucking at the wound he had made on my neck.  I hate it when I have to open a vein to get the job done.  I could feel the life being sucked out of my body, and my limbs had already begun to soften.  It hurt now that I was not under his spell.  He had released my hands, which now hung at my sides.  His right hand was now wrapped around my waist, his left hand plunged into my hair, caressing it.  Vampires are at their weakest when they are feeding.  It can take them as long as fifteen minutes to completely drain a body.  They don’t need to take the whole eleven pints of blood, but I was betting Isaac was planning to drain me dry.   He hadn’t noticed I’d broken away from his trance, which was just fine by me. I surveyed my remaining resources.  The knife in my right hand had fallen away, but I still barely held the left one.  I tightened my grip on it and prepared myself.  This, he would notice.

            I felt my strength slowly fading.  It was now or never. I turned sharply, his fangs tearing at my throat, and plunged the knife upward into his stomach, and he recoiled.  We were both injured, but I had the upper hand.  I unsheathed my blade from his stomach and heard the wet release of meat.  I plunged the silver into his heart. His face stilled, there was a look of surprise masked there.  His skin began to darken.  His hair began to burn from an unseen fire.  His forehead turned to ashes and caved in.  His eyes, once intensely black, faded to grey and collapsed.  The rest of his body burned from the inside and fell to ashes around the blade. 

            Damn.  That was close.  Almost too close.  Isaac hadn’t even been that powerful, and he had almost bested me.  I swore I would never be caught off guard again.  Ever.

            I had a fever and was weak from the blood loss.  I fumbled in the dark, looking for my bag which had been lost somewhere in the fight.  I needed Holy Water to cleanse the bite.  I put my hand up to my neck, probing the wound.  It was bad, but I would live.  A normal human would die, but then again, a normal human wouldn’t have been able to revive themselves from being rolled.  My mixed blood enabled me to heal all things natural and most things supernatural.  Had I been pure Seraphim, I wouldn’t have bothered with the Holy Water, but the mixed part meant that I would have to cleanse it.

            I was breathing heavily and swearing loudly, not a good combination.  I found the bag, tripped over it might be a better phrase, and began to dig through its contents.  I pulled out my long, black coat and a vial of holy water and cleansed the wound on my neck.  It burned like hell.  In a normal person, they would be sick and shivering, even vomiting, but I am already partially immune to vampire bites.  I wasn’t afraid I might turn into a walking corpse by any means.  Don’t believe the hype.  A simple bite won’t turn you into a vampire, but if left untreated, it can corrupt the mind.  It can lie dormant, then make you hesitate at precisely the wrong moment and end up getting you killed.  In my line of work, that is absolutely out of the question. 

            I surveyed the rest of the damage.  The cuts on my leg were already starting to knit up nicely.  No stitches necessary, just another bonus of the whole half Seraphim package, the ability to heal wounds quickly.  The gashes on my arm, however, were worse.  They had been deep.  Didn’t have supplies to stitch it up, couldn’t go to a hospital because they tend to ask too many questions.  Damn, that meant it was probably going to scar.  I poured Holy Water on the cuts as well, just to be safe.    

            I returned to the ashes, sorting through them until I found what I was looking for.  I grabbed the fangs and placed them in a velvet bag.  These are the souvenirs I give to my clients to prove the job is done. 

            A Vampire’s fangs are like fingerprints.  When a vampire gets their fangs, the sect will engrave a mark upon them, individual and unique to each.  Like a crest.  Isaac’s mark was a feather with a series of lines running behind it made to look like fire.  It was a symbol of his passing.  He had been a flunkie for the sect before he was turned, their little pet and blood-donor.  Vampires always seem to find some idiot who is willing to donate in the hopes of being granted the dark gift, and I’ve never understood it.  Isaac had killed a Seraph who was trying to clean out the nest, and in return, was granted the dark gift.  Who would want to live forever?  Seraphim were born into eternity, but who could fear death so much that they would give up their afterlife.  Besides, in my experience, vampires are never truly immortal.  My definition of immortal is difficult to kill.  In fact, if you know how to do it, they die quite easily.  Serpahim are considered immortal as well.  I am the first half-breed of my kind, so noone was really sure if I was immortal or not.  Personally, I classified myself as extremely difficult to kill.  Normally I show up, throw off a couple of silver or UV bullets with the gun, and Bob’s your uncle, they’re cinders.    It is rumored that the vampiric power is encrusted in the fangs, in the crest, and that’s why they never burn with the rest of the body.

            I gathered a handful of ashes into a jar to scatter elsewhere, and threw the rest to the wind.  I grabbed my coat and put it on, mainly to hide the wounds.  Discretion is key.  I walked the few blocks to my waiting Jeep, threw my bag into the back seat, and began the journey home, where a soft bed and what I hoped to be a good night’s –or day’s- sleep awaited me.  I would meet with my client when I woke up.  I was too damned tired to deal with it now.