Page 65 of Good Vampires Go to Heaven

Zeb took her hand, and Jogeir took Zeb’s other hand, just in case he wasn’t strong enough yet to teletransport. Turned out he was.

In the midst of whirling fogs and fast-moving clouds, and the feeling of g-force currents hitting the abdomen, they arrived in a remote area of Greece. At least she thought it was Greece, except that the region looked like a dystopian landscape after an atomic bomb.

It was the volcanic ruins where Zeb had until recently—for a period of many, many years, centuries, even—maintained a headquarters. Its name was Gloom. And what an appropriate name that was! Everywhere she looked there were black, porous rocks and pumice stones. Only a few bushes grew on the slopes of the funnel-shaped hill. It had been three centuries since the volcano had erupted but there was a dusting of ash on the ground and every surface. They would come away from this battle covered in the stuff.

Thus far, there was no sign of human or unhuman habitation. According to Zeb, the nearest village was ten miles away. No one wanted to rebuild on this site for fear of another eruption, and superstitions said it was haunted. By demons, of all things. There had to be an irony in Jasper wanting a stronghold of demon vampires in a spot already known for demons.

She glanced over at Zeb and saw him staring sadly at his surroundings. Regina’s heart tugged with sympathy. What a lonely, depressing life he must have led when residing here!

As if he’d read her thoughts, Zeb stepped up next to Regina and said, “Honey, we’re home.”

“Very funny!” she replied.

Jogeir raised a hand to silently signal that the vangel troops should scatter out like a net before closing in on the various openings that Zeb had outlined for them. They’d already studied maps of the site and had tactics planned out.

That’s when the long-dormant volcano began to erupt, spewing out, not lava, but Lucipires, like ants from an ant hill. Really big ants! And leading them was the powerful haakai, Yakov. Zeb had given a detailed description of how the Lucipire would look in both demonoid and humanoid forms. If he had been in humanoid form, which he was not, he would have worn a long tunic-style coat and beaver hat, or else shaved head with small pigtail in back. Prominent high Slavic cheekbones. Most of all, and visible in both forms, like now, was the traditional Cossack weapon, a curved, long-bladed sabre, known as a shashka.

“Go with God!” Jogeir hollered. Then, raising his broadsword high, he added, “To war!”

War stinks . . .

Zeb stabbed his sword repeatedly into one Lucipire after another, making sure to get them through the heart with the specially treated blade. That would ensure they could not return as demon vampires, but were sentenced instead to eternity in Hell.

When a Lucipire was destroyed, it melted away into a puddle of slime. When a vangel, or human, was killed by a Lucipire, its body dissolved on the spot with no slime and was immediately transported to Horror, or the nearest Lucipire stronghold. Already the ground near him was covered in slime, which would mix with the ash to form a godawful mess. There was no help for that.

The fangs were of no use today. Normally, a vangel would give a sinner that had been fanged by a Lucipire a chance to repent, and if they agreed, the vangel would fang the sinner, offering another chance to live a good life. Surprisingly, most of them refused. But there was no time to make those offers today. Besides, a fang redemption probably wouldn’t work on a Lucipire.

Zeb wondered idly if he had the vangel power to redeem a sinner. He would have to try, when he got a chance.

Sadly, scanning the battlefield, Zeb saw several vangels go down, then disappear, leaving their clothing and weapons behind. Hopefully, when the vangels led by Vikar got to Horror, they would be able to release the injured vangels who’d been taken captive. Also hopefully, the Lucipires would be too engaged in battles to have time for torture in an attempt to turn them into Lucipires.

The injured vangels would be taken to Grand Key Island for hospital care. If they’d died while still vangels, they would already be in Tranquility until the Final Judgment Day.

Maybe Zeb should try to get injured. Tranquility didn’t sound too bad. No, that wouldn’t work. Michael would never allow it.

One advantage the vangels had in this current battle was that the Lucipires were so huge they made big targets. At the same time, their size was a disadvantage for the vangels because the Lucipire beasts were extra strong and did not tire easily.

Zeb, like many of the vangels, had dropped his cloak, for ease of movement. They would gather them all later.

Already having downed a dozen Lucipires with his sword, Zeb decided it was time to get out the big guns. Unfolding the AK-47 strapped to his body, he prepared to mow down a new batch of the creatures storming toward him. They’d been coming in waves with a short respite in between. At least a hundred of them so far.

He couldn’t lose focus, but still he glanced quickly toward Regina who was lobbing a vast assortment of knives to pierce the Lucipires’ hearts. She was an excellent marksman with the blades. If she ran out of knives, many of which hung in loops sewn onto her black denims, she had the powerful M11 handgun in a shoulder holster. She looked like some kind of Norse goddess as she stood her ground.

He felt an odd pride in her appearance and abilities.

He spotted Jogeir moving toward Yakov who stood alone on a small rise of rocks. Jogeir and Yakov were soon engaged in a fierce swordfight, Jogeir with an ancient broadsword, and Yakov with an equally ancient sabre. Jogeir was an accomplished warrior, but still Zeb made his way toward him, to offer his help. Yakov’s power couldn’t be underestimated. Besides that, the stone-covered ground could cause even the most nimble man to falter, giving the advantage to his opponent.

A brief glance from Jogeir was the only acknowledgement that he knew Zeb was at his back. Because the broadsword was so heavy, it couldn’t be used in a thrust and parry mode, like a long sword. Rather a wide arc. Which made the combat rather cumbersome. No wonder Vikings had such powerful shoulder and upper arm muscles. The sabre, too, was designed for cutting blows, not thrusting.

Just then, Yakov noticed Zeb and roared, “Ah, the traitor arrives.” With a huge clawed paw, Yakov knocked Jogeir to the side and Jogeir dropped down on one knee.

Even so, Jogeir was able to swing his broadsword upward, two-handed, across Yakov’s beastly chest. Yakov glanced down at himself with surprise at the blood already seeping through his scaly skin. He wasn’t done for yet and could still do some damage if left to die slowly. Plus, his heart probably hadn’t been pierced.

Zeb was no fool, and all was fair in love and war, as they said, so he felt no need to use blade against blade. Instead, he raised his AK-47 and rat-a-tat-tat, Yakov was shot through the heart. At the same time, one of Regina’s knives flew through the air, over his shoulder, hitting Yakov in the same spot. Yakov clutched his chest and fell backward to the ground with a crash, crushing some of the coarse pumice rocks with his weight.

At first, the beast just lay on its back, looking up at Zeb with hatred in his red eyes. Then he snarled, “I will meet you in Hell, Hebrew.”

“I sincerely hope not,” Zeb said.