Removals

Part Two

Handel W. Care

Leeching the warmth from my body even through the hard wearing army fatigues I have on, the cold of the concrete floor is minor compared to the internal chill I feel as something not even remotely human flashes by. In my prone position I'm a pathetically easy target, but I'm beginning to realise that I would be that no matter what. At their level I'm little more than a self propelling bag of sustenance, one that can't even touch their immortal hides without trickery, luck and machines.
Claws extended, the less imposing, not that that's saying much, of the two vampires closes on Badger. Now I get my bale fire - his eyes are blazing a sickly crimson, highlighting the disharmonious elements of his features, the curve of his fangs, the length of his jaw. How, I wonder, now only faintly aware of my own body, would he ever be able to leave this place, looking as he does? Then I see Badger, or what's wearing his clothes, anyway.
Maybe it's because I've seen him passing for human a couple of times. Maybe it's the fact that I've talked with him and come to get a feel for the keen mind behind the sometimes stern, sometimes witty facade. The only vampires - other than young newly mades like last night's lot - I've seen have been during the day, when they were slowed by the sun, dull and outnumbered. Even then they were frightening as hell, of course, and only one would have been near Badger's age. That was a mistake; only two of us got out whole, and Matt gave it up after that, he had a job to go to down south anyway, but it was obvious his nerve had gone. Silly bugger. Badger reminds me a little of him, I realise. My preconceptions are swept brutally aside as I see the truth, and it's all the worse because of them.
What was only hinted at before is now all too painfully obvious. There are still signs of the man, but he's like a footnote to the beast that rends flesh with terrifying ease, enormous claws digging deep into the body of his foe. His face has gone from lean to stony, implacable in its purpose, otherworldly in its mien; eyes narrowed and shining with the dreadful joy of the perfect predator. Even now he's laughing, somewhere inside. Quicksilver movements allow little time for reaction, even at the speed of the other vampire, and the few strikes that hit home seem to be unworthy of Badger's notice. My merely mortal eyes must be only picking out a fragment of the fluid actions that bring about the fall of the enemy in such a brief time, leaving Badger to scan the rest of the room for other opposition.
I shudder as his gaze touches on me. The look in his eyes reminds me faintly of a man in the excess of lust - faintly, because that emotion is a dim shadow compared to that practically flowing out of him. In a flash I feel my heart, hear it loud in my ears, the tracery of veins throughout my body pulsing noisily, the weak protection of my skin seeming almost non existent; then he turns his head away and I slump, not realising until now how rigid I'd been holding myself. Matt was right, I can't fight that. No one can.
Raising recalcitrant eyes once more I find myself apparently alone. There is a dull pressure in my head and I wonder if I've passed out. Shock could conceivably do that, but I'm not of the wilting violet variety, so I seek for another source. The cloth covered bulk in the centre of the area draws my attention. Over the remains of the dead man a subtle shifting of the air is taking place, but I instinctively realise that this is not the source of tension, merely a result. All the same, what a result.
A face forms in the air and after it the rest of the body. Perfectly shaped limbs, the build of an athlete and face of an angel - like Michelangelo's David. I'm entranced, waiting for the eyes to open and yet despairing that they never will. This doesn't seem to fit with any of the other shit going down and my mind methodically steps back a pace and examines the information at hand thus far even as I'm taking in the view. Oh. I feel a bit stupid after staring like that, but one gets used to certain stereotypes. Fallen angels. Someone's master has come to protect his servant, it seems.
The strain in the air relaxes, only to be replaced with a hush which I'd normally liken to one found in a church. Obviously it's quite the opposite. With the summoning, or whatever the hell it was, done I can recognise that there was a humming of words from somewhere in the room, but only in retrospect. It's as if I'm allowed access to the memory but wasn't privy to the actuality. Must be something to do with magic. Don't have much time for it myself. That may have to change, assuming I get out of here - for the time being I'm like a hamster that came hunting what turned out to be alley cats and now finds herself face to face with a Bengal tiger. Sitting it out seems the only option - I'm certainly not moving if I can help it, I might get swatted like a leaf.
Long lashes part and I see that there's nothing behind the lids but emptiness. Despite my usual feel for people, animals, things, I'm not getting a damn thing off pretty boy. I guess demons don't give off vibes unless they want to. Those dark orbs could be looking at me, through me or somewhere completely different in the room. I'm probably supposed to cower or something, but after the shocks I've already gone through there's a comforting numbness that lets my emotions simply dribble away. What a bonus. It also lets me not flinch when Badger appears out of nowhere off to my right, the second vampire, the summoner, I assume, in hand to hand with him. There's a flash of unnatural light and I see what looks like fire pouring out of the opposition's mouth and catching the corner of Badger's shoulder, just as he dodges. At his grunt in response I realise he may actually be in trouble. Why, then, the drop dead gorgeous guy in need of contacts and, maybe, some clothes?
Ask and ye shall receive. My answer comes as Handel steps onto the raised area with the precise manner of an old professor making his way to the podium. Granted, none of my lecturers tend to appear out of thin air like that, but who can say what they get up to in their spare time? I'm beginning to catch on to the fact that absolutely nothing is as it seems. They stare at each other, from what I can tell, and then Handel opens his mouth to speak. I expect an abjuration or something equally fancy - he's not as old or as deadly as Badger, so I assume he's got something else up his sleeve. A spell slinging vampire sounds like a bad joke, they're tough enough already, but I've already seen some evidence tonight. Maybe he's the opposite side of the coin, or at least the edge.
"Piss off."
Okay. That's definitely not what I expected.
The demon opens his mouth and lets out a sound that bears some resemblance to a laugh, but only at first. It makes my bones ache and something wet drips from my ears. With a cracking noise a fracture appears in the left wall of the chamber and concrete dust fills the air from above. Beneath the pain I can make out the noise of metal reinforcements shreaking in protest and a very human scream of raw terror, which I realise is coming from my own throat. I can feel him now. I don't want to. Unspeakable, unthinkable... analogies fail me as the creature's power washes over us. Badger's roar of rage reaches me and is then lost in the maelstrom. Even he's having problems.
Another factor enters the equation. As the statue like form simply stands and keeps its mouth open, bringing down the house in a virtuoso performance to end them all, something ripples out of Handel. He's older than I thought; in fact, I'm not sure what he is any longer. Without obvious transition parts of him fray into a dark flowing texture, yet still limited by the man form he's been wearing. Two statues now face each other, one light coloured and static, the other dark and dynamic, constantly shifting. Energy arcs across the short distance between them, invisible, maybe not even purposeful - more like a battling of egos than a direct attack.
I can't grasp what's really happening, it's beyond my comprehension, and the increasing pain in my skull is reducing my thinking abilities geometrically. My hands come away red when I push against the stinging in my eyes. Mercifully the sonic attack halts then. The relief is almost enough to let me lose consciousness. Bugger that. I'll see the game played out as far as I can.
His attention gained, the demon shows more animation than before. I'd say he had a quizzical look on his face if I was forced to make a guess. Handel extends a hand towards him and it's like something out of T2 - a shining blade erupts from the liquid of his body and is grasped in a hand suddenly human seeming again, then brought crashing down onto a perfect shoulder. The scream this time is more heartfelt and less focused, though still painful. Even so, I laugh through the bloody tears.
Badger's opponent seems upset at his boss man being harmed, and takes too much of a glance over in that direction, maybe a half second more than Badger needs to deliver the killing strike. He grabs the corpse, looking almost as bad himself, and throws it towards the two standing above. It's a good toss, but enroute enhanced decay cuts in, sloughing meat off the bones and showering Handel and his foe with a less than tasteful assortment of detritus.
"That's yours, I believe," says Handel. "Time for you to go." But the image of the demon is already fading out like a bad dream in morning's brightness. I realise Handel was acting as nothing so much as a decoy - Badger's fight was the important one. He shrugs and kicks at what I take to be the remains of the human. "That's most of the clean up taken care of. Pass me some of those plastic bags, would you, Ursula?"
How he knows my given first name is a mystery to me, but I'm too wasted to do much more than croak "Carrie" at him and flop my hand weakly at one of the trouser pockets; then it's lights out.

Voices first. Familiar ones, too. That's good. The fact that they belong to two vampires doesn't seem to worry me just yet. I know there are worse things to be. Politicians for one thing. Words begin to extricate themselves from the simple sound at the same time as I become aware that I'm on something soft and there's a blanket and sheets over me.
"Yes. But I somehow didn't see you managing it all by yourself. You didn't say I had to stay out of it completely, and you got that box. Something like Hellraiser without the need to be any good at a Rubik's cube, is it? And what was that Blake your friend was spouting before you did him? Literary type, was he?"
"Best you don't know. Best I don't know." Badger's answer is short, clipped, to the point. He sounds weary. "Thanks for the help, anyway."
"Anytime. You agree she'll be okay left alone?"
"Sure. If your 'elder' wasn't such a useless arsehole as to let humans... Hmm. She's awake."
"Yes."
Realising there's little point in maintaining my unintended subterfuge, I crack open my eyes. We're in what I take to be a motel room: a double bed on which I'm sequestered, mini fridge, unadorned wall mirror, TV, a door off to the left into what I'll say is the bathroom and a curtain across ranch sliders taking up the wall directly opposite me. It looks like the same sort of room that my parents get when they're down visiting. Handel and Badger are seated in a way that allows them to watch both the exit and me, each with a glass in hand. I'm happy to see that it's not blood they're drinking, but what else it could be escapes me.
"How are you," says Handel. There's kind concern in his eyes and tone. I'd probably be taken in if I hadn't realised what his acting abilities were like.
"Fine," I reply, and only realise after I say it that it's surprisingly true. Putting my hands to my face I can tell that the crusted blood has all been washed away; even my hair has been washed. The consequences of that cause me to blush and sit up in the bed, leading to the next realisation - I'm only wearing an oversized t-shirt over my bra and panties. Observing my mixture of anger and embarrassment with an edge of humour that just pisses me off, the two men smile in a way that makes them look like nothing so much as brothers.
"It's alright, we didn't look," says Badger, a sparkle all too apparent in his eye.
"We can actually behave. We're older than we look, after all," adds Handel.
"Some of us more so than others," mumbles Badger with a smirk.
"Yeah yeah," replies Handel with a grimace.
"Great double act," I say snidely. "Now, where are my clothes?"

They meet me at, of all places, the pub the next night. Handel seems to think that he owes me 'a good dinner and a few drinks' as something of an apology. I'm not arguing, I have some brains, after all, and free meals to a student are a good thing, not to mention the booze. Yes, most stereotypes have an element of truth in them, you just can't depend on them too much, that's all. They sit there, drinking and eating like people, and I wonder how many of the tales are incorrect. I also think I'm going mad, because I find them likeable and charming, despite knowing what they are. Shit, there goes the worldview.
It turns out that they were down here for separate reasons. Badger had to knock off the demon worshippers and Handel had been asked to look into the death of another vampire, one old enough to be missed. Two jobs, same place, so they ran into each other. There seems to be something of an organisation, but they just made vague references to it; some conflicting ones too - if I didn't know how well they worked together I'd think they were on different sides. Yeah, so they both came here for a 'removal' job, and as it turned out I was one of the targets. Just as well I'm so damn cute really - it seems I could have had anything from my brain turned to mush and being locked away in Kingsgate for the rest of my days to... well, death - although they say it was the vampire's fault for being a dumb piece of shit, as Badger put it. Oh well, we all like our fantasies, and who's to say what the actual truth is?
As a parting gift Handel gives me what looks like a very old book. It's actually from this century, but it looks the part, and is worth a fair bit. I'm impressed, a little embarrassed and wondering at the strange looks that pass between the two guys as Handel points out one of the more well known of the poems within. It's very apt considering recent events. Later, I dream I see their fearful symmetry again, and wonder at the future. Ah, it's best not to know. 

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