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“Even if you get out of here, Jacob, you won’t get far with the entire state police searching for you.”
A glimpse of movement ahead. Barbara raised the UV gun. Jacob was faster. He erupted from the darkness and barreled into her, sending them both crashing to the floor. The gun flew from her hand. Jacob lunged for her throat. Barbara felt his hot breath, saw the glint of his teeth. She braced her arms against his chest, raised a knee and jammed it into his groin.
He cried out and his grip loosened. Barbara pulled away and scrabbled for the gun, but Jacob was on her again before she could reach it. He grabbed her head and smashed her skull into the hard floor. Pain and dizziness swamped her. She tried to push him off but could feel her consciousness fading.
“GET THE FUCK OFF HER!”
Something whooshed through the air. Jacob’s head snapped sideways with a sickening crunch, and he fell backward. Barbara squinted up at a huge, dark shadow which gradually solidified into Tucker, wielding a heavy barstool. He put it down and held out his hand. She reached for it, but before their fingers could touch there was an animal-like roar and Jacob reared up from the floor. He flew at Tucker, knocking the big man off balance. Tucker staggered a few paces and then toppled into a table stacked with chairs, Jacob falling on top of him.
“Shit!” Barbara pulled herself up. The gun. Where was the damn UV gun?
And then she saw it, lying a short distance away. She grabbed her weapon and stood up. Ahead of her she could hear crashing, grunts and heavy breathing. She advanced a few steps, pointing the flashlight around. The beam illuminated Tucker and Jacob wrestling on the floor amid broken chairs and an overturned table.
Barbara raised the gun in her other hand. Then hesitated. She needed to get a clear shot or the UV light might fry Tucker too. She trained the gun on the pair, finger poised.
“Dammit,” she muttered.
But for once fate was on her side. With a stuttering buzz the lights in the bar suddenly sprang back on. Jacob reeled back, shielding his eyes. Barbara pulled the trigger. The flare threw him across the room. Flesh sizzled. She smelt burning. She walked over to where Jacob lay, curled on the floor, by the window. Half his hair had been burnt away and the skin beneath was raw and blistered. His face was a charred mess.
As she approached, he opened his eyes.
Barbara kept the gun trained on him. “It’s over, Jacob.”
He pushed himself to his feet, reached up to his head and cracked it back into position.
Like the goddamn Terminator.
“It’s never over,” he croaked.
The UV gun must have seared his vocal cords. His voice was hoarse and cracked. No longer that of a young boy, but something more ancient. Barbara thought about the faded photographs. The skinny boy who looked so familiar.
“You had a good run,” she said. “You’ve been killing for what—a century?”
“I’ve been killing since before your grandparents were born.”
Barbara felt her finger itch on the trigger. “Well, it’s good that you’re familiar with death. Because there’s only one way this is going to end.”
“This ends when I decide it ends.”
“So you can go on killing, for kicks?”
“This is who I am. It’s who every vampyr is. They’ve just forgotten—and they need reminding.”
“And that’s what you’re doing?”
His lips twisted. “Every time I kill, it creates more hatred between humans and colonies.”
“You want a war?”
“A Gathering. Except this time, we win.”
“You’ve already lost.”
“You can’t kill me.”
“Everything dies, Jacob. Everything has its time.”
“NO!” It came out as a ragged roar. “You die. Humans. You die and rot. Not me. I’m fucking immortal.”
