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He charged across the room, standing shoulder to shoulder with Severin to propel Raphael backwards. Nikolaus was crushed against the bar and fell to the ground. In his anxiety for his lover, Severin let go of the French vampire and suddenly the tables turned. With a horrid leer, Raphael took hold of Sam by the shoulders. He marched him back and slammed him down on a nearby table.
Winded, Sam looked up into the vampire’s face. Raphael had pale blue, almost silvery eyes and they blazed with demonic intent. “How does it feel to be nothing more than one of Istvan’s experiments?” Raphael hissed at him in strongly-accented English. His canine teeth were huge. “Something he did to fuck with Emil.”
Although the words were hurtful, they were only sticks and stones. Sam struggled on the table, crushed by the older vampire’s weight.
“Istvan’s whole life has been nothing more than rebellion against Emil,” Raphael continued. “Everything he’s done has been because of Emil. Even his human pet. He only took him to defy Emil.”
There was a roar behind Raphael and Stephen swung a length of wood at the French vampire’s head. It smashed into his skull, knocking Raphael clean off his feet.
Raphael crumpled to the floor, momentarily dazed with his head bleeding, and Stephen straddled his chest, yelling at him. “I won’t listen to your poison! Istvan loves me! He loves me!”
Raphael sneered. He was fast recovering his strength. In a blur of movement, he jerked out an arm and the dim light caught his sharp nail as he slashed Stephen’s throat.
Sam screamed as a fountain of blood exploded. Stephen fell back, his face instantly grey, clutching at his neck.
Sam dropped to his knees, pulling Stephen into his arms, watching as the life leaked out of his dearest friend. To his horror and shame, the smell of the blood aroused him and caused him to salivate. He looked to Istvan in desperation and saw the Hungarian vampire was still pinned to the wall by Emil. It seemed like the recently resurrected vampire was enjoying playing with him as would a cat with a mouse. They seemed to be deep in conversation, spitting words at each other. Sam had always suspected something had gone on between the two, something more than sex, and something that was deeper on Emil’s side than Istvan’s.
Stephen lay in Sam’s arms and looked up at him with anguished eyes, clutching at the front of his shirt and Sam moaned in terror at the foregone conclusion that his friend was going to die.
“What are you going to do?” Raphael said, standing over them. “Savehim? Why don’t you allow me?” And he swooped towards Stephen with his fangs out.
“We’re going to save him fromyou,” Janos cried behind him and he ran at Raphael with his stake. The wood pierced the French vampire’s back and Severin darted forward, adding his superior strength, ramming the wood home so it came right out of Raphael’s chest in an explosion of blood, muscle and bone.
Raphael screamed and the room shook, plaster falling from the ceiling. He rocked on his feet, clutching the stake, blood bubbling from his mouth. From somewhere close by, Nikolaus laughed hysterically. Severin wrenched the stake free. He bore Raphael down to the ground and then as one, he and Nikolaus fell upon him like vultures, tearing at his throat.
Sam couldn’t watch. He’d felt a piercing agony in his own chest when Raphael had been staked. Was that normal, to feel pain when another vampire was killed? He hadn’t during that night at the club when he and Janos had dispatched those vampires. But maybe it was something to do with Raphael. After all, he was their true father, the man who had indirectly sired them all.
He cradled Stephen in his arms and Janos scrambled forward holding his scarf, wrapping it tight around Stephen’s neck to stem the flow of blood. The two of them looked at each other.
“What are you going to do?” asked Janos.
Sam looked down at Stephen fading fast and shook with fear and indecision. Stephen would never thank him for this. His eyelashes fluttered and he mouthed words, his face turning blue. There was barely a drop left in him. It was all over Sam and in a lake on the floor.
A cry came from across the room. “What have you done?” Emil darted towards the fallen figure of Raphael with Istvan pursuing him. “No! No!” He wrenched Severin free and slammed his fist into the side of Nikolaus’s head. Then he threw himself on Raphael’s prone body, weeping.
Sam looked around and saw everyone was just as mesmerised at Emil’s reaction as him. Severin and Nikolaus’s faces were streaked with blood, their eyes red. Istvan was looking between Stephen and Emil with horror. Sam knew he was torn between helping Stephen and finishing Emil off.
Istvan suddenly set his jaw with determination. Blood tears stood bright in his amber eyes. He grasped the fallen stake, still smeared with gore, and hefted it like a javelin.
“Why don’t you join him in hell?” he said and impaled Emil through the back, skewering him to Raphael.
Both vampires cried out. They writhed and rocked, joined together in death like two lovers. The very foundations of the club shook, furniture shaking and lights crashing from the ceiling.
“We need to get out!” Janos cried because now the masonry was starting to crumble, supporting pillars and beams bowing and breaking.
Sam struggled to his feet and scooped up Stephen in his arms. His friend felt weightless, like an injured bird, fragile and soft. He heard himself start to sob as though from a great distance.
Nikolaus and Severin were already at the door. They started to beat it down with great kicks and Janos joined in, battering it with a piece of wood. The hinges splintered and the door disintegrated, and Nikolaus kicked his way through the pieces and held his hand out to Severin. The two hurried through and Janos helped Sam climb through with Stephen.
Outside with his hand over his mouth, eyes wide, was Bela.
“Allow me,” Sam said with sudden murderous vengeance. He thrust Stephen into Janos’s arms and then he gripped Bela by the throat and slammed him against the wall. The Hungarian vampire offered barely a protest. “Judas,” Sam spat before he tore the traitor’s throat out.
He let Bela go with blood renewing his strength and realised it was true that vampire blood was the sweetest and most nourishing of all.
Although the building threatened to fall around their ears, the rest of his group were staring back into the scene of carnage within. Istvan knelt on the floor by the fallen figures of Raphael and Emil. He was speaking some words and Sam guessed they were the most intensely private utterings ever and he would never know just what Istvan had to impart to his maker.
As they all watched, the two vampire corpses on the ground began to crumble into dust. The figures turned black, locked together and melting into one. A sudden wind whistled through the room, ruffling hair and stirring clothes. It whipped the gathering dust up into a spiral, spinning like a mini tornado, howling like a pack of wolves, and before the very eyes of the startled onlookers, the ground opened up and the whirling dust disappeared in a funnel through it.
