The Last of the Red-Hot Vampires

Chapter 3

I twisted in the man's grip, attempting to knee him in the groin, but he anticipated my move, releasing my neck and jerking me around suddenly. I had time to suck in one large lungful of air before he grabbed my throat again, his other hand immobilizing my arm nearest him. "Where is she?" he demanded.

"She left," I managed to squeak despite the spots that were once again dancing before my eyes. I tried to get some air into my lungs, but his grip was on this side of fatal, leaving me just barely alive. Desperately, I tried to remember everything I knew about self-defense, but my brain seemed sluggish and slow to cooperate.

"Left for where?"

"I…" I threw myself backward, hoping to knock him off balance, but it was no use. "Don't know."

The world swam around me in a nauseating way, and just when I thought I was going to pass out—or die—a bolt of blue from the sky startled my would-be murderer into releasing me.

I collapsed on the ground into a fetal ball, my lungs heaving as I sucked in air. Even as I rubbed my neck and welcomed oxygen to my body again, I was aware of the man standing over me, his body silhouetted against the sun. He was tall, taller than me, solidly built, with skin the color of a latte, and thick black hair that came to a widow's peak in the front. He peered upward for a moment.

"Stop that!"

"Stop what, breathing? You almost did it for me, thank you."

He glared at me as I continued to massage my neck. "Stop the rain."

If he saw the rain cloud, he couldn't be real. Then again, Sarah said she saw it too. He must have breathed in the fungus as well, triggering the same response Sarah and I had. "I would be delighted to stop that particular hallucination if I could."

"Will it away," he demanded, taking a step toward me.

I scrambled backward like a crab, braced and ready to run if he looked like he was going to attack me again. "I don't think you can will away hallucinations by just saying, 'Rain, rain, go away!'"

The small cloud over my head dissipated until nothing was left of it.

The man looked at me, one eyebrow cocked.

"This just proves it's not real," I grumbled, still watching him carefully, looking for an opportunity to run like hell.

"You are mortal?"

I frowned up at him, rubbing my neck as I got to my knees. "What do I look like, a baked potato? Of course I'm mortal."

My voice was a croak that sounded almost as bad as my throat felt.

He swore.

"If you lay so much as one finger on me again, I will scream bloody murder. My friend is just beyond the trees, and she went to great trouble to illegally smuggle pepper spray into the country."

He was about to say something, but the wind brushed past us, the hollow note more pronounced. Inexplicably, the skin on my back crawled at the sound of it.

"Portia?" Sarah's voice sounded distant, and very worried.

"Over here," I yelled, slowly getting to my feet, my eyes on the man in front of me. If he even looked like he was going to grab me again, I'd bolt.

"Portia? Did you hear that voice? Oh my god, it was awful! I don't like to hurry you, but I really think we need to get out of here." She burst through the trees, a frightened look on her face that turned to confusion when she saw the man in front of me. "Oh. I didn't realize someone else was here."

"The Hashmallim has come. Move quickly, or die," the man said, grabbing my arm and giving me a none-too-gentle shove toward the sheep pasture.

"Stop that!" I yelled, twisting out of his grip. "If you touch me once again—"

"What's going on here?" Sarah asked, stumbling as she ran down to where I'd stopped to face my attacker.

"That man tried to strangle me," I answered, pointing at him.

"He what?" She turned to glare at him. "You hurt my friend?"

"It was a misunderstanding. I did not realize she was mortal."

"What the hell else should I be?" I demanded to know.

The wind swirled around us, eerily sounding as if voices were whispering dire warnings. I shivered, despite the fact that I knew it was just the effect of the wind through the circle of trees.

"We do not have time for this," he said, stalking toward me. "If you wish to die, stay here and continue talking. If you wish to live, run!"

"Run?" Sarah asked, looking around.

Wordless voices swept past us, setting off my flight instinct. I didn't stop to analyze the situation, I just acted.

"Run!" I screamed, grabbing Sarah's arm and hauling her with me as I hurtled down the hill.

I felt the man's presence behind us as we raced down the hill, stumbling over occasional clumps of earth and rocks, but a long-buried, primal sense told me I had less to fear from him than whatever it was the wind heralded.

Sarah would have stopped by her rental car, but the man grabbed the back of my shirt and her dress, and pushed us on, toward a small shed that sat near a curve in the road. "Do not stop! Your car is within sight of the hill."

He half dragged us over a low stone wall, shoving us without any ceremony around the edge of the shed. I ran straight into the front bumper of a car, slamming onto the hood with a breath-stealing, "Ooof!"

"Get in," he ordered, opening both doors on the driver's side.

"Are you insane?" I snapped, limping over to where Sarah stood. "We are not going anywhere with you—"

I like to think of myself as reasonably able to take care of myself in dangerous situations, but the man in front of me was several inches taller than me, probably a good fifty pounds heavier, and evidently spent his spare time working out with weights, or throwing unwilling women into the backs of vehicles, because he had no difficulty in doing the latter. He tossed small, delicate Sarah into the car as if she weighed no more than a bag of grapefruit, flinging larger and more substantial me in on top of her before slamming the door behind us.

"Hey!" I yelled into Sarah's left hip.

"Oh my god, get off me. I think you're breaking my rib."

The car lurched forward as the potential murderer, now kidnapper, started the engine and slammed his foot on the accelerator.

"I'm sorry, it wasn't my choice to be here," I grumbled, scrambling off Sarah and onto the car floor. I flailed around for a moment, but only ended up wedged in between the back and front seats. "Ow! That's my head you just kicked!"

"Sorry. Hey, you! This is kidnapping! International kidnapping! If you pull over right now and let us out, I won't get my husband, a renowned criminal lawyer, to sue your ass into a life sentence at the nearest penitentiary where you will spend the rest of your days as some burly axe murderer's girlfriend."

"Stay down or the Hashmallim will see you," was all that the kidnapper said.

"Hit him," I whispered furiously to Sarah where she crouched above me on the seat. I tried to pull myself out of my predicament, but there was nothing I could grab to give me leverage.

"What?"

"Hit him," I said again in a voice pitched low enough that just she could hear. "On the back of the head. Knock him out so we can escape."

Sarah looked wildly around the backseat of the car. "Knock him out with what? My camera bag? It has my digital camera in it!"

"Oh, for Pete's sake, do I have to do everything…move aside so I can get out of this horrible deathtrap."

Sarah managed to move aside just enough for me to grasp the fabric of the car seat with both hands and heave myself out of the trench. The car swerved slightly as the kidnapper glared in the rearview mirror at us.

"I told you to keep down. The Hashmallim could still see you."

"You are kidnapping us," I told him, untangling my purse strap from my person. I didn't have much in it but my travel wallet and miscellaneous tourist items, but I had to do something to stop our abduction. Spending time trapped in a psycho's lair while he did who-knew-what to us was not on my vacation to-do list. "Stop the damned car and let us out!"

"What you're doing is illegal!" Sarah added, scooting over ever further as I hefted my bag.

"I answer to higher laws than yours," he muttered as he swung the car around a corner. Ahead of us, the town of Newton Poppleford hove into view.

"It's now or never," I whispered to Sarah. "We have to get out before he goes through the town. I'm going to bash him on the head with my bag while you open the door and throw yourself out. I'll jump out my side at the same time."

Sarah bit her lip as she watched the water rush past while we drove over the humpbacked bridge, no doubt worried about the folly of jumping out of a moving car, but she didn't let a little thing like possible death or dismemberment stop her. She nodded that she understood.

"On three," I told her, taking a deep breath and a firm grasp on my purse.

"One…two…" I swung my arm back, prepared to wallop the kidnapper on the head as he slowed down to maneuver through the town.

As I was about to bring it forward, his head whipped around, his black eyes flashing a warning. For a moment his gaze held mine, and I was aware of a strange fission of warmth that seemed to come to life inside me. "I am trying to save you, you foolish woman!"

"Save us from what?" I asked.

"Death," he snapped.

"Three!" I yelled, and brought my purse down as hard as I could on his face. The car jerked to the left, brakes squealing as he tried to stop.

Sarah jerked open the car door and threw herself out of the vehicle without waiting to see if I was following. The man yelled something as I wrenched at the door handle, pausing for a second at the sickening sight of the pavement passing so quickly outside the door. I didn't wait around to see what he had to say, however. I flung myself forward, wrapping both arms around my head to protect it from injury. I hit the ground with my right shoulder, skidding and rolling at the same time, pain blossoming from a dozen different spots as I tumbled along the road, finally coming to an abrupt stop courtesy of a parked car.

I lay dazed for a few minutes, too stunned by the fall to rally much awareness, but at last my senses started returning to me. I was aware that the exposed skin of my arms and hands burned, my shoulder ached, and my back and legs felt as if someone had beaten me with a baseball bat, but I was very much alive. Several horrified voices calling out questions and exclamations indicated the townsfolk had seen our unorthodox arrival. I got to my knees, flinching at the sting as my abraded palms touched the ground. Several pairs of hands reached out to help me to my feet while voices asked question after question.

"I'm OK," I said, weaving dizzily for a moment when I made it to my feet. "Thank you for your help, but I'm just fine. A few cuts and bruises, nothing more. Has anyone seen my friend—oh there she is."

"Why on earth did you go that way?" Sarah asked, standing on the verge of a grassy square. She brushed a few last strands of grass from her dress and straightened up. "It was much nicer falling on soft lawn. Oh! Someone stop that man!"

The benevolent bystanders turned as one to watch our abductor's car drive off down the street with a squeal of tires. I memorized the license plate number, swearing revenge, or at least justice for the assault and kidnapping.

I had expected that, as foreign visitors to the country, we would be caught up in endless red tape in both getting medical care and reporting the abduction, but to my surprise, a short two hours after we had made our dashing escape we tottered up the stairs of the Tattered Stoat to our respective rooms, bruised, battered, exhausted, and in my case, utterly confused.

The hospital had done three blood tests (two at my insistence since I was positive the prior results were incorrect), all of which showed I had not ingested any form of fungus, hallucinogenic or otherwise.

"Are you going to be OK with the séance we are supposed to go to tonight?" Sarah asked wearily as we slowly made our way up the dark back stairs to the upper floor. The pub was a popular one with the younger crowd, as evidenced by the large flat-screen TV blaring music videos. The building, however, was thankfully thick-walled, so the noise was muted on the second floor.

"You heard the doctor—I'm fine. Just a few bumps and bruises; nothing a couple of aspirin can't fix."

She paused at her door and gave me a concerned once-over. "I know, but I still feel like you should be in bed, not attending séances with me."

"Don't worry about it," I said with a careless wave that I felt far from feeling. "I wouldn't miss the opportunity for exposing some hokey medium."

"Portia!"

"I know, I know. I promised I'd go into this with an open mind. But I'm going to enjoy proving you wrong."

"There's that little matter of the cloud that followed you that you have yet to explain," she said with obnoxious cheerfulness.

"I explained it perfectly well. It was either the result of hallucination by a yet-as-undetermined source, hypnosis, or visual trickery."

"Smoke and mirrors, you mean?" she asked archly.

"Smugness ill becomes you," I said sternly, pulling my room key from my pocket. "I will offer scientific proof as to the non-existence of the cloud just as soon as I have soil from that faery ring analyzed. It could well be that there are elements at work other than possibly hallucinogenic fungi."

"Uh-huh. I'm willing to let you get away with this one because I've never heard of a cloud associated with a faery ring, but I'm not going to go so easy on you next time." Sarah smiled as she spoke, digging her key out of her camera bag. I rolled my eyes. "Dibs the bathtub first."

"You're mean," I answered, fitting my own key into the lock.

"You're not supposed to get your owies wet."

"I am not Tyler," I said with infinite dignity, despite the various bandages swathing my arms, hands, and one eyebrow. "He is six and an extremely precocious child whom you spoil shamelessly. I am just a friend who is subjected to your abuse under the guise of concern." I opened the door on the last of my words, flipped on the light, and stared with stunned disbelief at my room.

"Uh…Sarah?"

"Hmm?" She paused in her doorway, looking back at me.

"The kidnapper is here."

She stared at me for a moment, then hurried after me as I entered my room. "Oh! The nerve! I'll get the police—"

I snatched up the nearest item at hand to use as a weapon—which turned out to be a paperback Agatha Christie novel—and threw myself in front of Sarah, fully intending to protect my friend despite my injuries, as the deranged kidnapper moved toward her.

The man moved faster than I thought, however. He seemed to blur as he moved, one minute standing next to the chair on the opposite side of the room, the next in front of Sarah, his hand on the door to keep it from opening any further, his head tipped down so he could look her in the eyes.

"There is no need for you to call the authorities," he said in his deep, slightly Irish voice that contrasted so oddly with his dark skin and exotic eyes.

"There most certainly is!" Sarah protested.

I added my two cents, stalking forward with my book held in a threatening manner. "I'd say assault and kidnapping is grounds for arrest. The police were very interested in having a word with you. I'm sure they will be delighted to discuss the issue."

Sarah, to my surprise, did not knee the attacker, or even scream for help. Instead, she stood in front of him, her mouth slightly opened, an odd look of absorption on her face.

"Sarah," I said loudly, waving my book around.

Neither she nor the man gave me so much as a glance.

I moved next to them, peering first at him, then her. Their eyes were locked, their posture that of two lovers about to kiss.

It bothered me intensely that she would stand and gawk at an (admittedly handsome) insane criminal.

"Sarah? Hello?"

"You have nothing to fear from me," the man told her gently, and to my complete amazement, she nodded her head and closed the door.

"Oh my god, you're some sort of hypnotist, aren't you?" I told him, watching Sarah. Her eyes had a slightly dazed look to them, her breath coming with soft little panting sounds. She was blushing, as well, her cheeks pink with some strong emotion. "I insist that you stop this right now. I will not have you victimizing my friend."

"I…I'm glad," she said, ignoring me. She licked her lips nervously, her eyelashes fluttering as she sent him coy little glances.

"Sarah, stop it! Snap out of it!" I grabbed her shoulders and forcibly turned her toward me. Her head swiveled so she could continue to gaze at the man. I grabbed her chin and turned her face so she was looking at me. "Sarah!"

"Hello, Portia. It's all right. We don't have anything to fear from him." Her eyes were slightly dilated, but other than her strangely flustered state, she seemed to be all right.

Her words, however, made it clear she was far from in her right mind. "I'm going to take you back to the hospital," I said slowly, so she would understand. I looked over her shoulder to where the man stood. "And if you try to stop me, I will scream bloody murder and bring up everyone in the pub."

"I have saved your life," the man said, his brows pulling together in a frown.

Sarah smiled at him and nodded, a devoted look on her face. "He did. He saved us."

"There was nothing threatening us except you," I said firmly, trying to steer Sarah toward the door. "I will call the police from the pub downstairs. And if you try to kidnap us again—"

"Blast it, woman, I am not a kidnapper!" he exploded.

I took a few precautionary steps backward, glared at Sarah's head for a moment as she stood simmering at him, finally yanking her back to stand with me. "Look, you can yammer on about saving our lives all you want, but I know what I know."

"You know nothing," he said, scorn dripping from his voice. He stalked toward me, his black eyes fairly shooting sparks. I looked around quickly for a sturdier weapon than a book, but other than the bedside lamp, my room was horribly weapon-free. "I did save your life, and by the laws governing the Court of Divine Blood, I demand recompense in the form of exculpation."