Part 30 (1/2)

There's a terrorist on board,” Valentine explained.

The port official walked them down a long, narrow wooden dock extending into the lake, held up by thick wooden pilings. The warped wood creaked under their feet.

Ahead they could see a long, low shape. The aged speed-boat gleamed in the distant reflected light of Chicago. Valentine prayed that they would still get away with no one questioning a Reaper's orders.

The Reaper.

The real Reaper was somewhere close.

Valentine tried to hurry the other three along by trotting out ahead toward the boat, his hackles rising like a wary dog's. Rho seemed to blur, but his Reaper aspect re-formed.

They've found me. They are homing. I give off life sign like a firework, Valentine the Younger, the Lifeweaver thought to him.

”The Reaper grew closer. Valentine knew it was just behind them now.

The port official scuttled up the gangway. He began speaking to a pair of figures on board.

Valentine pressed the pistol into Molly's hand. ”Keep this in your coat pocket,” he whispered. ”Don't let them take you alive.”

The Reaper approached. Its cold shadow was at the jetty, moving down the boards.

Valentine drew his parang, turned, and went to meet it.

When Valentine was fourteen, he had read Livy. Tonight his was the role of Horatius at the Sublician Bridge. What had seemed heroic now felt suicidal, with two meters of genetically engineered death moving toward him at cheetah speed.

At first he was afraid that the Reaper, coming out of the dark like a bounding tiger, would simply leap over him to tear and toss his charges lifeless into the lake. But Valentine stood, legs planted with the balanced blade of the parang resting in his hand against the back of his thigh.

The Reaper stopped.It regarded him, drawn skull-face expressionless and yellow eyes sunken in bony sockets.

ahh, thefoodling stands, curious after the long chase, it is your nature to run, human, it breathed, did you think you could steal and escape with our bauble? you would not get out of sight of this pier. It crouched, froglike.

Valentine tried to keep the fear out of his voice even if he couldn't banish its shadow from his mind. His bowels suddenly seemed made of water, and his tongue was thick and dry.

”Your time is up,” Valentine said, speaking quietly to keep his voice from cracking. ”In a few seconds, your Master is going to have one less drone.”

Go, Rho. Take Molly and haul out of here, he mentally implored.

The Reaper did not laugh, did not smile. It pulled back its lips to reveal obsidian pointed teeth.

oh, no, foodling. it is high night, and your world is mine, soon you will be as cold and empty as the moon, your woman, too. all you have done is spit into a hurricane.

Behind him Valentine heard the motorboat sputter into life. The thing looked for a moment at the vessel, ahh, a boat, i thought so. your luck has run out. It reached into its robes and pulled out a short, thick gun. Valentine took a step back in confusion; he had never heard of a Reaper using a gun, but it fired into the air, in the direction of the speedboat. A parachute flare opened, bathing the pier in red light.

”Do you know me, creature?” Valentine asked.

i know your kind, boy. weak and easily emptied, i feast on your fathers at will, as i shall consume you, the Reaper hissed, rising and opening its arms for the deadly embrace.

Valentine brought his blade up. ”Not my father. My name is David Valentine. Son of Lee Valentine. Have you met my kind, creature?”

The thing's face lost animation. Perhaps the Kurian Lord at the other end knew dismay.

Valentine attacked. He lunged, hitting it with a backhand swipe that narrowly missed its neck. His blade struck the skull, cutting and glancing off its face with a resounding thwack.

It lashed out with a foot, almost caving in Valentine's chest. He fell backwards onto the dock, gasping for air, his parang teetering at the edge of the wooden jetty.

With a soft plop it dropped into Lake Michigan.

And David Valentine knew he would die. The vampire-avatar advanced four steps, then bent to take him up in its long arms. But Valentine would meet it on his feet. He rolled away in a blur and got up with the balance of a judo champion recovering from a throw.

Exhilarated, he felt a rush of power, a presence that lifted the fear away.

With him stood a phalanx of spirits who had also faced the Kurians. His father and mother, holding hands. Steve Oran and Gilman DelVecchio formed an unflinching wall to his right and left, and behind him Gabriella Cho went on tiptoe to reach his ear.

Go on, Davy. He's not as tough as he seems, she seemed to whisper in his mind.

A terrible strength filled Valentine as the rush infused his belly with fire. The thing paused to wipe sticky black blood from its eye, and Valentine was upon it. The force of his leap knocked it over. Valentine clawed at its back, pinning an arm that tried to tear him off. He wrapped his arms around it. The Reaper flopped and rolled like a netted fish.

It rose, bearing Valentine like a backpack. It began to totter down toward the boat, which seemed to Valentine bathed in a red mist. It tried to shrug him off, but Valentine's arms had turned to steel cables.

Molly Carlson stepped out of the darkness, sighting down the pistol's barrel with tear- streaked eyes. The Reaper moved toward her, no longer struggling with Valentine but reaching for the woman. Valentine s.h.i.+fted his grip and tore open the Reaper's robes at its chest, baring the rippled surface of its rib cage.

”Shoot! Molly, shoot!” he yelled.

She fired, putting bullet after bullet into the vampire's chest. Valentine felt the impact against his own body as the heavy slugs tore into the Reaper's flesh. Black blood fountained out of its mouth.

He slid off the thing's back to avoid the bullets, falling to the ground. It turned its armored back to Molly and staggered toward Valentine, leaning over him as if it sought to at last crush and smother him under the fall of its body. Its deadly jaws opened wide, revealing the pointed tongue behind its fangs.

Valentine brought his knees to his chest and grabbed at the Reaper's sleeves. He brought the creature's weight to the soles of his feet, using its momentum against it. Now almost standing on his head, Valentine kicked out with both legs.

The hissing nightmare flew, thrown upside down into Lake.” Michigan, arms clawing at empty air. It splashed into the water.

Valentine rolled onto his stomach, looking at the circle of waves emerging from where the robe-weighted Reaper sank from sight. Turbulence broke the water; perhaps the thing was still struggling as it descended into final darkness...

Now it was Molly's turn to help him up. The pair returned to the motorboat, where the fake Reaper still glowered at the two-man crew.

”What the h.e.l.l was that back there? Who called the Snappers to the pier, of all places?

They'll kill us all!” the port officer yelled as they climbed on board.

nothing for you to know about, if you wish to see the dawn, Rho said in imitation of a Reaper's breathy hiss, return to your duties, and let us catch the whitecloud.

The port officer ran.

Molly sat next to Valentine, leaning against his shoulder. He watched the two men nervously casting off the boat under Rho's glowing eyes. Just in case, he reloaded the gun.

While moving out of the slip, the boat hit something and rocked to a halt.

”What the-?” the man at the wheel said.

The engine sputtered and died.