Thirty
The old and dusty wooden wine rack promptly went up in flames, which then quickly spread to the stacks of packing boxes nearby.
From there, it became uncontrollable.
It filled the room with the terrible flicker and shadow of the growing flames.
Josef had a passing relationship with fire, and a healthy respect and fear of it. But that didn't quell his amazement at how quickly it could spread, or how hot it could get.
Rake launched his spear, and it impaled itself in Sylvia's heart. She stumbled back a few steps then fell to her knees. She looked up at her sire, who approached her and stood looking down at her.
“Those who betray the Council die, my daughter,” he said, the anguish showing on his face. “And it is my responsibility to make it so.”
“Why?” she whispered softly in a gasp. Her eyes filled, and spilled over and down her cheeks.
“Sylvia,” Rake said with strain, with grief. “We were here to monitor St. John. We had orders not to interfere or to force him to come with us. You knew that, Sylvia....you knew that. You worked against us. As one who sits on the Council, your disobedience and interference is a betrayal, and that cannot be overlooked. Just as I cannot overlook the order to do my part in terminating the traitors.”
“It was not betrayal,” she said, more softly as she weakened. “It was for the Council. For our kind.
“Where did I go wrong in my tutelage of you?” Rake said almost inaudibly.
He reached for the protruding wooden spear and wrapped his hands around it, but he hesitated.
His eyes grew moist, and he struggled to harden his heart against his favorite daughter. He'd known all along what he must do.
A hand settled on his shoulder and Rake looked up from Sylvia's eyes to meet Malcolm's, who met his gaze with sympathy. Malcolm wrapped his own hands over Rake's, held his vampire brother's eyes with his own, and pushed the spear further with a mighty thrust, ensuring that the silver tip had penetrated her heart.
She gasped, blood trickling from the corner of her mouth. Malcolm, and then Rake, released the spear, and Sylvia fell to her side, dead on the dusty floor.
Rake stayed still, looking down at her, flames describing shadows on his face and Sylvia's blood pooling around his feet.
Malcolm placed a hand back on Rake's shoulder.
“When the Council wishes to know, it was by your hand, brother. It will be the truth.”
Rake did not respond.
A little further away Nigel was engaged in his own fight, this one external rather than internal.
His execution spear had gone clattering away as soon as Gerod's body had impacted him, and both had been knocked several feet back by the force. They grappled, both fighting for their lives, Nigel's middle-aged portliness suddenly seeming much more dangerous as he fought with the ferocity of an old and powerful vampire.
Josef- and Mick, Josef saw- had both vamped out in reaction to the tense situation. One vampire had been killed already, and the smell of the blood was maddening to Josef, who needed it for healing and strength, vampire blood or not.
Flames were coursing the perimeter of the room and were now licking at the ceiling directly above the imprisoned friends.
The predator in both of them emerged. They were trapped in a dire situation, imminent death only minutes away, the flames hot and blistering, and they were unable to escape.
Off to the right, Beth coughed on the smoke that burned in her lungs. She lowered herself to her knees in hopes of escaping some of the smoke and heat, and because the flames now above her head were terrifyingly close. She began to crawl, unsure of where she was heading but hoping to find Mick in the thick smoke.
Jackson bent down next to her, and even though she knew he didn't have to breathe, it was disconcerting to Beth that he wasn't coughing and choking on the thick air. He grabbed her arm in a tight hold.
“I'm getting you out of here,” he said.
“No,” Beth gasped. “Not yet. Get Mick. And Josef. We'll go together. Please.”
“They are chained,” Jackson said with frustration. “There is no chance for them. Will you stay here to die too?”
Jackson glanced up at the flames uneasily. He would not stay much longer. Fire was not a vampire's friend.
Jackson tightened his grip once more to pull Beth to her feet.
Beth's hands roved over, and then came back and grasped at the object that rolled around under her hands. She gripped the thin but heavy object and swung it around at Jackson. She knew she couldn't really harm him, but she hoped it would deter him from his efforts to force her.
Jackson ducked the swinging object- Nigel's spear, he realized- and fell onto his back. Before he could react or resume his quest to drag Beth from the now furiously burning cellar, a bigger, stronger hand reached down for him to grasp.
Jackson's sire pulled him to his feet.
“Go,” Malcolm ordered. “Get out.”
“But-”
Malcolm pulled him forward, interrupting his protest, and placed a chaste kiss on Jackson's forehead. “Go. I will follow you out.”
It was not a request; Jackson took off for the stairs while there was still a path. He was reluctant to leave and glanced back once more before he ascended the stairs and exited into the kitchen. The floor and walls in the kitchen were hot, smoke and cinders already wisping up through their unseen imperfections.
Downstairs, Beth had found Mick and gotten herself to her feet using both his body and the spear to pull and push herself up.
“Mick,” she gasped, the word barely intelligible. “Mick.”
“Beth, you have to get out. Go. Hurry.”
“Not leavin' you.”
Beth raised the spear, silver tip forward, and began thrusting it at Mick's chains and shackles. Mick winced with each thrust and clanging impact, hoping she wouldn't miss and impale him instead.
Next to him, Josef snarled as a spark landed on his cheek and left a small blister.
The spear glanced off the shackles once more before an exhausted, coughing Beth had to admit defeat, and she leaned forward, gasping for breath and sweating, using the spear to hold herself up.
“Beth,” Mick said in anguish. “Leave. Please. Please, just get out.”
Beth raised her eyes to him and shook her head, but she could not speak.
“Beth Turner,” a voice said to her from the smoke. She could barely see through it, but close to the floor, Beth could see Malcolm crouching above the prone and bleeding figure of the woman vampire.
One of the other vampires, the black one, stood above, still staring down at the dead one, though it had been a few minutes since it had happened.
Malcolm reached down to the prone figure and his hand retreated with a small item dangling.
He tossed it to Beth, who barely caught it, not having seen it coming through the smoke.
“Trade you,” Malcolm said to her with a nod at the spear.
Beth looked from the item she'd caught- a key- to Mick's chains with sudden realization.
Standing up straight, Beth tossed the spear through the smoke and Malcolm caught it easily. The vampire stood up, put a hand on the black vampire's shoulder, leaned forward to speak into his ear, then disappeared into the smoke.
Beth hustled. She felt around for each of the four shackles holding Mick, unable now to see them.
It couldn't have been more than two minutes since the first flame had caught, but it felt to Beth that they'd been in the smoke and heat for a week.
The fire was crackling around them, the air disappearing and being replaced by heat and smoke. Beth wanted to grab onto Mick in fear and hold tight, but that would only ensure their death. The shackles were hot against her fingers, and she knew that meant they were burning Mick and Josef as well.
Finally Beth had Mick freed, taking longer than she felt they had to spare, and he stepped forward.
And from the smoke, a body hurtled, slamming into Mick and knocking him back into the wall.
The body was still alive, and it had her spear protruding from its chest, the spear she'd given Malcolm.
“Gerod,” Mick growled at the speared vampire, and Beth gathered that he was not one of the good guys.
Gerod gurgled, blood spilling from his mouth. Mick hefted the vampire's body and slid through the smoke to Josef's position. Mick threw a glance over to Beth, as if wondering what she'd think about what he was about to do, and his face took on resolution.
He held Gerod up by an arm around the waist, Gerod's arms trapped in the hold. He didn't bother to remove the deadly spear. Mick's other hand grabbed a handful of Gerod's hair and pulled his head back taut. Then Mick moved the offering up against Josef.
Josef growled and his mouth latched onto Gerod's jugular, his fangs piercing the skin. Human blood would be better, and he'd still have to have it, but Gerod's vampire blood would strengthen him to a point. Perhaps even help with the silver in Josef's bloodstream.
Gerod convulsed as Josef drank, finally weakening as Josef drained him quickly, then Mick let the body fall to the floor. Beth's eyes followed the falling body and stared. Mick snatched the key from her hand and freed Josef from his shackles.
“’Bout time,” Josef groused, standing a little stronger on his legs after his vampire meal. “Let's blow this joint.”
The three of them sped off toward the stairs, the only way out of the cellar, Beth gripping Mick's hand tightly and being pulled along behind.
She was unable to keep up with the vampire pace, however, and halfway to their goal she tripped and was pulled from Mick's hand. She hit the ground hard, with a jarring jolt, and struggled to catch her breath.
Mick turned at losing her, Josef stopping a few strides later.
“Beth!” Mick yelled, spotting her lying flat out on the floor, on her stomach. She looked up at Mick and pushed herself to her knees.
Mick had just taken a step forward, intent on reaching her and pulling her to her feet when a loud groaning from above gave a warning of a fraction of a second before the ceiling fell in on the cellar.
Beth was lost behind- and under- a wall of burning material and acrid smoke.
“No! Beth! No!” Mick screamed, the sudden shock spearing his heart. He flew forward to the the burning wall but Josef snatched him from behind.
“You can't, Mick!” Josef yelled above the roar of the fire. “You can't! I'm sorry, Mick! I'm sorry. She's gone! There's no way.”
No no no no, Mick chanted to himself as he sank to his knees. Josef's arms snaked around him firmly and Josef's voice in his ear offered hurried condolences, but Mick was finally brought back to the danger around them when a burning timber clattered to the ground and exploded into sparks, missing them by less than a foot. The sparks left little pinpoints of pain across Mick's face.
“We have to go, Mick! We have to,” Josef insisted. He stood and pulled Mick up with him, but Mick resisted.
“You go,” Mick said. “I'm going in to find her!”
“Mick, use some sense! She couldn't live through that. You know that! She's gone, Mick! We have to go!”
Mick didn't answer but he shook Josef's hold off of him and strode forward, trying to ignore the intense heat.
He was grabbed, again, from behind, and this time Josef's hold was unforgiving, even in his somewhat weakened state. Mick's life depended on it.
“Sorry, buddy,” Josef said sincerely in Mick's ear.
Mick struggled with rage and with grief, but Josef held tight, one arm around Mick's throat and the other painfully pulling one arm up behind Mick's back. It was slower going than it would have been if Mick had gone willingly, and Josef despaired of what this might do to their friendship, but he wasn't going to let Mick jump to his suicide to save a burned and crushed corpse. He only hoped Mick would forgive him someday.
Josef made their way up the stairs and out into the kitchen, which was now missing a large part of its floor. The rest of the room was burning with intense heat and Josef cringed from it, still holding Mick tight.
This would be so much easier if Mick were helping him find a way out instead of screaming pleas for Josef to release him, pleas that were so anguished that Josef had to close his ears to them.
Finally Josef found what might be a likely path if he hurried before it, too, was completely aflame.
Josef navigated quickly but carefully, in starts and stops, through the kitchen and into the burning dining room. The trip through the dining room was a little more harrowing and more than once Josef had to extinguish flames on their clothing, which wasn't so easy to do while encumbered with Mick.
Who had quit struggling.
Josef realized this just as he realized that the only way they'd get out of the burning building would be to power through the remaining inferno and crash through the large dining room street-facing window on the far wall.
He released Mick and turned his friend to face him, but he kept a hand on Mick's arm in case Mick attempted to run back to the basement. He'd never make it alive.
Josef put one hand on the side of Mick's neck and looked into Mick's grief-filled but rational eyes.
“You back?” he asked.
Mick just nodded and Josef patted his neck affectionately.
Josef pointed at the window that would soon be blocked by flames. “That's the way out,” he told Mick.
Mick's eyes followed Josef's finger and he nodded.
“Together,” Josef said. “Ready, buddy?”
Mick looked back at Josef and focused on him. His jaw clenched in determination. “Ready,” he said in a steady voice. “Together.”
Both turned and, as one, ran full tilt across the hot floor and through the reaching and converging flames. They stayed side by side, step by step, and a few feet from the plate glass window, they launched themselves airborne.
At the exact same time, both of them crashed through the window. Their momentum carried them over the sidewalk and into the middle of the empty street, where they landed hard, hit the asphalt and rolled.
Josef looked up at the burning building. They were still too uncomfortably close. The roar of the fire was loud, and it created a hot wind that blasted against them. The whole building was entirely engulfed, blazing against the pre-dawn sky. Sirens wailed in the distance.
Josef stood painfully, not strong enough yet to heal from his burns and injuries. Mick stood with him and they both sprinted to the park across from the hotel and well into it.
They savored the cooler breeze on their reddened and blistered skin and both sank to the dew-wet grass as they watched the building on the verge of collapse.
They didn't move as two red fire trucks screeched onto the street, followed by numerous police cars and an ambulance.
Josef wondered how many bodies would actually be found. There had been no chance to call the Cleaners for this. They'd have to liberate the vampire bodies later, if there was anything left of them, so there could be no discovery.
Josef looked to Mick.
The flames were reflected in his friend’s moist and sorrowful eyes as he watched the fire eat the building.
Josef laid a light hand on Mick's shoulder. A consoling hand.
“I'm sorry, man. I'm so sorry.”
Mick sniffed and nodded, took a deep hitching breath. Nodded again. He brought his hands up and scrubbed roughly at his eyes and face, and finally looked at Josef. The sight of his grief was heartbreaking.
“Me too,” was all Mick said, so softly.
The two sat there together, staring at the fire, the firefighters and police oblivious of the watchers.
The flames fought the water with every breeze and only grew bigger, to the alarm of the city personnel.
Neither Mick nor Josef moved for a quarter of an hour, for some reason feeling the need to witness the inferno to the end. A tribute, perhaps. They sat in their dirty and singed clothing, shoulder to shoulder in the wet grass, and watched without speaking, the flames dancing in their eyes. Mick's eyes streamed and he didn't pretend it was from the smoke.
Josef just hoped Mick would someday recover from his loss. It would be just one of many to come in his long life.
There was a rustling off to the right that drew Mick's attention. He turned his head in that direction, more out of a habit of preservation than of a true desire to know what creature was moving in the bushes. His eyes dully scanned the darkness.
A figure pushed through the bushes, rounded a stone fountain, and staggered into view.
Mick straightened where he sat. He tried to catch a scent but the air- and he and Josef- were too full of smoke for him to catch anything else.
It was when the distant figure fell to its knees and uttered a soft grunt, barely discernible to Mick over the noise of the fire and the shouting of the firemen and their roaring equipment, that he felt a flicker of reaction.
“Beth?” Mick suddenly gasped with a surge- a prayer- of hope. He stood up quickly, and Josef turned to see him rushing off into the park.
Mick collapsed at Beth's side and gathered her up almost roughly. He gave no thought to the fact that he was gasping and tearful.
She was breathing. Oh, thank God, she was breathing and her pulse was strong. She was alive.
She struggled against Mick's tight hold. She took a deep breath and fell into a fit of coughing.
“Mick,” she hacked out. “Mick, I can't breathe. Loosen up.”
Mick honored her request and let her go. He sat back to regard her, but he couldn't stop touching her. His hands smoothed her sooty and singed hair, moved to cup her ash smeared faced, pulled her to his chest for a quick hold before releasing her again to allow her to catch her breath as she coughed.
“I thought you were dead,” Mick choked out past the lump in his throat. He put his forehead against hers.
“I'm not,” she said needlessly. “I was scared you were.”
“How?” Mick asked in awe. “How did you get out? I couldn't get to you, Beth. I'm so sorry. But how did you get out?”
“The vampire. The scary one. Malcolm.”
“Malcolm brought you out?” Mick asked in surprise.
He looked up as he felt Josef approach from behind.
“It's good to see you, Beth,” Josef said sincerely as he settled a hand on Mick's shoulder and gave a squeeze.
Beth just smiled at Josef and answered Mick's question. “He carried me. He pulled me out from under a bunch of burning stuff that fell and carried me out. He brought me here, to the park, and put me in the grass over there.” She made a vague gesture behind her toward the dark expanse of the park.
“Where is he now?” Mick didn't care about how he really felt about Malcolm. He'd returned something precious that Mick had believed lost forever, and for that Malcolm deserved Mick's undying and eternal gratitude. And he could certainly start with a 'thank you'.
Beth shook her head at the question. “He went back in,” she nodded at the building that was burning white-hot now. “I called to him. I told him not to go back, that it was too bad. He said something about his brother and ran back. I watched him jump into the flames.”
Mick looked up at Josef and rose to stand next to him. Beth struggled to her feet and stood next to Mick. The three of them stood side by side and stared at the building as it burned bright, despite the diligent firefighters and their high powered streams of water.
As they watched, the building finally collapsed in a shower of sparks and gushing flames, sending the firefighters fleeing to a safe distance with shouts of alarm. The building was just a pile of burning rubble now that would smolder out in its own time, leaving nothing recognizable.
“The Council has lost five tonight,” Josef stated.
“Three, really,” Mick reminded him. “Two were under execution orders.”
“Yes. Three,” Josef agreed. “Three vampires whose losses will be felt deeply.” Josef couldn't claim any deep love for any of them, but he regretted doubting the trust he'd put in Rake and would miss the friendship that could have been. And as for Malcolm and Nigel, they had given their lives, along with Rake’s, to ensure the survival of Josef and Mick. And Beth.
And the Council would be hurt by the loss of such old and powerful members.
“I owe Malcolm for Beth's life,” Mick added his regrets to Josef's. “I would have liked a chance to repay him.”
Mick put an arm around Beth's waist and drew her close, and the three of them stood there a few moments more as the flames began to die out, and the sun slowly sent out its first rays of the morning.
“Let's go home,” Mick finally said to the others.
“Yes, let's,” Josef agreed. “I think I need a drink.”
“Make mine a double,” Beth sighed raggedly, painfully.
The three of them turned and walked deeper into the park, away from the fire and the chaos surrounding it.
On the other side of the burning hotel, Jackson stared at the collapsed rubble from a safe distance. Like Beth, he’d watched his Sire run back into the burning building, but he was not ready to believe that Malcolm would not come out again.
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From there, it became uncontrollable.
It filled the room with the terrible flicker and shadow of the growing flames.
Josef had a passing relationship with fire, and a healthy respect and fear of it. But that didn't quell his amazement at how quickly it could spread, or how hot it could get.
Rake launched his spear, and it impaled itself in Sylvia's heart. She stumbled back a few steps then fell to her knees. She looked up at her sire, who approached her and stood looking down at her.
“Those who betray the Council die, my daughter,” he said, the anguish showing on his face. “And it is my responsibility to make it so.”
“Why?” she whispered softly in a gasp. Her eyes filled, and spilled over and down her cheeks.
“Sylvia,” Rake said with strain, with grief. “We were here to monitor St. John. We had orders not to interfere or to force him to come with us. You knew that, Sylvia....you knew that. You worked against us. As one who sits on the Council, your disobedience and interference is a betrayal, and that cannot be overlooked. Just as I cannot overlook the order to do my part in terminating the traitors.”
“It was not betrayal,” she said, more softly as she weakened. “It was for the Council. For our kind.
“Where did I go wrong in my tutelage of you?” Rake said almost inaudibly.
He reached for the protruding wooden spear and wrapped his hands around it, but he hesitated.
His eyes grew moist, and he struggled to harden his heart against his favorite daughter. He'd known all along what he must do.
A hand settled on his shoulder and Rake looked up from Sylvia's eyes to meet Malcolm's, who met his gaze with sympathy. Malcolm wrapped his own hands over Rake's, held his vampire brother's eyes with his own, and pushed the spear further with a mighty thrust, ensuring that the silver tip had penetrated her heart.
She gasped, blood trickling from the corner of her mouth. Malcolm, and then Rake, released the spear, and Sylvia fell to her side, dead on the dusty floor.
Rake stayed still, looking down at her, flames describing shadows on his face and Sylvia's blood pooling around his feet.
Malcolm placed a hand back on Rake's shoulder.
“When the Council wishes to know, it was by your hand, brother. It will be the truth.”
Rake did not respond.
A little further away Nigel was engaged in his own fight, this one external rather than internal.
His execution spear had gone clattering away as soon as Gerod's body had impacted him, and both had been knocked several feet back by the force. They grappled, both fighting for their lives, Nigel's middle-aged portliness suddenly seeming much more dangerous as he fought with the ferocity of an old and powerful vampire.
Josef- and Mick, Josef saw- had both vamped out in reaction to the tense situation. One vampire had been killed already, and the smell of the blood was maddening to Josef, who needed it for healing and strength, vampire blood or not.
Flames were coursing the perimeter of the room and were now licking at the ceiling directly above the imprisoned friends.
The predator in both of them emerged. They were trapped in a dire situation, imminent death only minutes away, the flames hot and blistering, and they were unable to escape.
Off to the right, Beth coughed on the smoke that burned in her lungs. She lowered herself to her knees in hopes of escaping some of the smoke and heat, and because the flames now above her head were terrifyingly close. She began to crawl, unsure of where she was heading but hoping to find Mick in the thick smoke.
Jackson bent down next to her, and even though she knew he didn't have to breathe, it was disconcerting to Beth that he wasn't coughing and choking on the thick air. He grabbed her arm in a tight hold.
“I'm getting you out of here,” he said.
“No,” Beth gasped. “Not yet. Get Mick. And Josef. We'll go together. Please.”
“They are chained,” Jackson said with frustration. “There is no chance for them. Will you stay here to die too?”
Jackson glanced up at the flames uneasily. He would not stay much longer. Fire was not a vampire's friend.
Jackson tightened his grip once more to pull Beth to her feet.
Beth's hands roved over, and then came back and grasped at the object that rolled around under her hands. She gripped the thin but heavy object and swung it around at Jackson. She knew she couldn't really harm him, but she hoped it would deter him from his efforts to force her.
Jackson ducked the swinging object- Nigel's spear, he realized- and fell onto his back. Before he could react or resume his quest to drag Beth from the now furiously burning cellar, a bigger, stronger hand reached down for him to grasp.
Jackson's sire pulled him to his feet.
“Go,” Malcolm ordered. “Get out.”
“But-”
Malcolm pulled him forward, interrupting his protest, and placed a chaste kiss on Jackson's forehead. “Go. I will follow you out.”
It was not a request; Jackson took off for the stairs while there was still a path. He was reluctant to leave and glanced back once more before he ascended the stairs and exited into the kitchen. The floor and walls in the kitchen were hot, smoke and cinders already wisping up through their unseen imperfections.
Downstairs, Beth had found Mick and gotten herself to her feet using both his body and the spear to pull and push herself up.
“Mick,” she gasped, the word barely intelligible. “Mick.”
“Beth, you have to get out. Go. Hurry.”
“Not leavin' you.”
Beth raised the spear, silver tip forward, and began thrusting it at Mick's chains and shackles. Mick winced with each thrust and clanging impact, hoping she wouldn't miss and impale him instead.
Next to him, Josef snarled as a spark landed on his cheek and left a small blister.
The spear glanced off the shackles once more before an exhausted, coughing Beth had to admit defeat, and she leaned forward, gasping for breath and sweating, using the spear to hold herself up.
“Beth,” Mick said in anguish. “Leave. Please. Please, just get out.”
Beth raised her eyes to him and shook her head, but she could not speak.
“Beth Turner,” a voice said to her from the smoke. She could barely see through it, but close to the floor, Beth could see Malcolm crouching above the prone and bleeding figure of the woman vampire.
One of the other vampires, the black one, stood above, still staring down at the dead one, though it had been a few minutes since it had happened.
Malcolm reached down to the prone figure and his hand retreated with a small item dangling.
He tossed it to Beth, who barely caught it, not having seen it coming through the smoke.
“Trade you,” Malcolm said to her with a nod at the spear.
Beth looked from the item she'd caught- a key- to Mick's chains with sudden realization.
Standing up straight, Beth tossed the spear through the smoke and Malcolm caught it easily. The vampire stood up, put a hand on the black vampire's shoulder, leaned forward to speak into his ear, then disappeared into the smoke.
Beth hustled. She felt around for each of the four shackles holding Mick, unable now to see them.
It couldn't have been more than two minutes since the first flame had caught, but it felt to Beth that they'd been in the smoke and heat for a week.
The fire was crackling around them, the air disappearing and being replaced by heat and smoke. Beth wanted to grab onto Mick in fear and hold tight, but that would only ensure their death. The shackles were hot against her fingers, and she knew that meant they were burning Mick and Josef as well.
Finally Beth had Mick freed, taking longer than she felt they had to spare, and he stepped forward.
And from the smoke, a body hurtled, slamming into Mick and knocking him back into the wall.
The body was still alive, and it had her spear protruding from its chest, the spear she'd given Malcolm.
“Gerod,” Mick growled at the speared vampire, and Beth gathered that he was not one of the good guys.
Gerod gurgled, blood spilling from his mouth. Mick hefted the vampire's body and slid through the smoke to Josef's position. Mick threw a glance over to Beth, as if wondering what she'd think about what he was about to do, and his face took on resolution.
He held Gerod up by an arm around the waist, Gerod's arms trapped in the hold. He didn't bother to remove the deadly spear. Mick's other hand grabbed a handful of Gerod's hair and pulled his head back taut. Then Mick moved the offering up against Josef.
Josef growled and his mouth latched onto Gerod's jugular, his fangs piercing the skin. Human blood would be better, and he'd still have to have it, but Gerod's vampire blood would strengthen him to a point. Perhaps even help with the silver in Josef's bloodstream.
Gerod convulsed as Josef drank, finally weakening as Josef drained him quickly, then Mick let the body fall to the floor. Beth's eyes followed the falling body and stared. Mick snatched the key from her hand and freed Josef from his shackles.
“’Bout time,” Josef groused, standing a little stronger on his legs after his vampire meal. “Let's blow this joint.”
The three of them sped off toward the stairs, the only way out of the cellar, Beth gripping Mick's hand tightly and being pulled along behind.
She was unable to keep up with the vampire pace, however, and halfway to their goal she tripped and was pulled from Mick's hand. She hit the ground hard, with a jarring jolt, and struggled to catch her breath.
Mick turned at losing her, Josef stopping a few strides later.
“Beth!” Mick yelled, spotting her lying flat out on the floor, on her stomach. She looked up at Mick and pushed herself to her knees.
Mick had just taken a step forward, intent on reaching her and pulling her to her feet when a loud groaning from above gave a warning of a fraction of a second before the ceiling fell in on the cellar.
Beth was lost behind- and under- a wall of burning material and acrid smoke.
“No! Beth! No!” Mick screamed, the sudden shock spearing his heart. He flew forward to the the burning wall but Josef snatched him from behind.
“You can't, Mick!” Josef yelled above the roar of the fire. “You can't! I'm sorry, Mick! I'm sorry. She's gone! There's no way.”
No no no no, Mick chanted to himself as he sank to his knees. Josef's arms snaked around him firmly and Josef's voice in his ear offered hurried condolences, but Mick was finally brought back to the danger around them when a burning timber clattered to the ground and exploded into sparks, missing them by less than a foot. The sparks left little pinpoints of pain across Mick's face.
“We have to go, Mick! We have to,” Josef insisted. He stood and pulled Mick up with him, but Mick resisted.
“You go,” Mick said. “I'm going in to find her!”
“Mick, use some sense! She couldn't live through that. You know that! She's gone, Mick! We have to go!”
Mick didn't answer but he shook Josef's hold off of him and strode forward, trying to ignore the intense heat.
He was grabbed, again, from behind, and this time Josef's hold was unforgiving, even in his somewhat weakened state. Mick's life depended on it.
“Sorry, buddy,” Josef said sincerely in Mick's ear.
Mick struggled with rage and with grief, but Josef held tight, one arm around Mick's throat and the other painfully pulling one arm up behind Mick's back. It was slower going than it would have been if Mick had gone willingly, and Josef despaired of what this might do to their friendship, but he wasn't going to let Mick jump to his suicide to save a burned and crushed corpse. He only hoped Mick would forgive him someday.
Josef made their way up the stairs and out into the kitchen, which was now missing a large part of its floor. The rest of the room was burning with intense heat and Josef cringed from it, still holding Mick tight.
This would be so much easier if Mick were helping him find a way out instead of screaming pleas for Josef to release him, pleas that were so anguished that Josef had to close his ears to them.
Finally Josef found what might be a likely path if he hurried before it, too, was completely aflame.
Josef navigated quickly but carefully, in starts and stops, through the kitchen and into the burning dining room. The trip through the dining room was a little more harrowing and more than once Josef had to extinguish flames on their clothing, which wasn't so easy to do while encumbered with Mick.
Who had quit struggling.
Josef realized this just as he realized that the only way they'd get out of the burning building would be to power through the remaining inferno and crash through the large dining room street-facing window on the far wall.
He released Mick and turned his friend to face him, but he kept a hand on Mick's arm in case Mick attempted to run back to the basement. He'd never make it alive.
Josef put one hand on the side of Mick's neck and looked into Mick's grief-filled but rational eyes.
“You back?” he asked.
Mick just nodded and Josef patted his neck affectionately.
Josef pointed at the window that would soon be blocked by flames. “That's the way out,” he told Mick.
Mick's eyes followed Josef's finger and he nodded.
“Together,” Josef said. “Ready, buddy?”
Mick looked back at Josef and focused on him. His jaw clenched in determination. “Ready,” he said in a steady voice. “Together.”
Both turned and, as one, ran full tilt across the hot floor and through the reaching and converging flames. They stayed side by side, step by step, and a few feet from the plate glass window, they launched themselves airborne.
At the exact same time, both of them crashed through the window. Their momentum carried them over the sidewalk and into the middle of the empty street, where they landed hard, hit the asphalt and rolled.
Josef looked up at the burning building. They were still too uncomfortably close. The roar of the fire was loud, and it created a hot wind that blasted against them. The whole building was entirely engulfed, blazing against the pre-dawn sky. Sirens wailed in the distance.
Josef stood painfully, not strong enough yet to heal from his burns and injuries. Mick stood with him and they both sprinted to the park across from the hotel and well into it.
They savored the cooler breeze on their reddened and blistered skin and both sank to the dew-wet grass as they watched the building on the verge of collapse.
They didn't move as two red fire trucks screeched onto the street, followed by numerous police cars and an ambulance.
Josef wondered how many bodies would actually be found. There had been no chance to call the Cleaners for this. They'd have to liberate the vampire bodies later, if there was anything left of them, so there could be no discovery.
Josef looked to Mick.
The flames were reflected in his friend’s moist and sorrowful eyes as he watched the fire eat the building.
Josef laid a light hand on Mick's shoulder. A consoling hand.
“I'm sorry, man. I'm so sorry.”
Mick sniffed and nodded, took a deep hitching breath. Nodded again. He brought his hands up and scrubbed roughly at his eyes and face, and finally looked at Josef. The sight of his grief was heartbreaking.
“Me too,” was all Mick said, so softly.
The two sat there together, staring at the fire, the firefighters and police oblivious of the watchers.
The flames fought the water with every breeze and only grew bigger, to the alarm of the city personnel.
Neither Mick nor Josef moved for a quarter of an hour, for some reason feeling the need to witness the inferno to the end. A tribute, perhaps. They sat in their dirty and singed clothing, shoulder to shoulder in the wet grass, and watched without speaking, the flames dancing in their eyes. Mick's eyes streamed and he didn't pretend it was from the smoke.
Josef just hoped Mick would someday recover from his loss. It would be just one of many to come in his long life.
There was a rustling off to the right that drew Mick's attention. He turned his head in that direction, more out of a habit of preservation than of a true desire to know what creature was moving in the bushes. His eyes dully scanned the darkness.
A figure pushed through the bushes, rounded a stone fountain, and staggered into view.
Mick straightened where he sat. He tried to catch a scent but the air- and he and Josef- were too full of smoke for him to catch anything else.
It was when the distant figure fell to its knees and uttered a soft grunt, barely discernible to Mick over the noise of the fire and the shouting of the firemen and their roaring equipment, that he felt a flicker of reaction.
“Beth?” Mick suddenly gasped with a surge- a prayer- of hope. He stood up quickly, and Josef turned to see him rushing off into the park.
Mick collapsed at Beth's side and gathered her up almost roughly. He gave no thought to the fact that he was gasping and tearful.
She was breathing. Oh, thank God, she was breathing and her pulse was strong. She was alive.
She struggled against Mick's tight hold. She took a deep breath and fell into a fit of coughing.
“Mick,” she hacked out. “Mick, I can't breathe. Loosen up.”
Mick honored her request and let her go. He sat back to regard her, but he couldn't stop touching her. His hands smoothed her sooty and singed hair, moved to cup her ash smeared faced, pulled her to his chest for a quick hold before releasing her again to allow her to catch her breath as she coughed.
“I thought you were dead,” Mick choked out past the lump in his throat. He put his forehead against hers.
“I'm not,” she said needlessly. “I was scared you were.”
“How?” Mick asked in awe. “How did you get out? I couldn't get to you, Beth. I'm so sorry. But how did you get out?”
“The vampire. The scary one. Malcolm.”
“Malcolm brought you out?” Mick asked in surprise.
He looked up as he felt Josef approach from behind.
“It's good to see you, Beth,” Josef said sincerely as he settled a hand on Mick's shoulder and gave a squeeze.
Beth just smiled at Josef and answered Mick's question. “He carried me. He pulled me out from under a bunch of burning stuff that fell and carried me out. He brought me here, to the park, and put me in the grass over there.” She made a vague gesture behind her toward the dark expanse of the park.
“Where is he now?” Mick didn't care about how he really felt about Malcolm. He'd returned something precious that Mick had believed lost forever, and for that Malcolm deserved Mick's undying and eternal gratitude. And he could certainly start with a 'thank you'.
Beth shook her head at the question. “He went back in,” she nodded at the building that was burning white-hot now. “I called to him. I told him not to go back, that it was too bad. He said something about his brother and ran back. I watched him jump into the flames.”
Mick looked up at Josef and rose to stand next to him. Beth struggled to her feet and stood next to Mick. The three of them stood side by side and stared at the building as it burned bright, despite the diligent firefighters and their high powered streams of water.
As they watched, the building finally collapsed in a shower of sparks and gushing flames, sending the firefighters fleeing to a safe distance with shouts of alarm. The building was just a pile of burning rubble now that would smolder out in its own time, leaving nothing recognizable.
“The Council has lost five tonight,” Josef stated.
“Three, really,” Mick reminded him. “Two were under execution orders.”
“Yes. Three,” Josef agreed. “Three vampires whose losses will be felt deeply.” Josef couldn't claim any deep love for any of them, but he regretted doubting the trust he'd put in Rake and would miss the friendship that could have been. And as for Malcolm and Nigel, they had given their lives, along with Rake’s, to ensure the survival of Josef and Mick. And Beth.
And the Council would be hurt by the loss of such old and powerful members.
“I owe Malcolm for Beth's life,” Mick added his regrets to Josef's. “I would have liked a chance to repay him.”
Mick put an arm around Beth's waist and drew her close, and the three of them stood there a few moments more as the flames began to die out, and the sun slowly sent out its first rays of the morning.
“Let's go home,” Mick finally said to the others.
“Yes, let's,” Josef agreed. “I think I need a drink.”
“Make mine a double,” Beth sighed raggedly, painfully.
The three of them turned and walked deeper into the park, away from the fire and the chaos surrounding it.
On the other side of the burning hotel, Jackson stared at the collapsed rubble from a safe distance. Like Beth, he’d watched his Sire run back into the burning building, but he was not ready to believe that Malcolm would not come out again.
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