He pointed a finger at me, the elongated fingernail ragged and stained. In his other arm he clutched a huge battered black book. He snarled, displaying yellow and brown teeth. And fangs. I recognised the Southern drawl from the phone calls.
Is this Brother Luther? He’s a vampire?
The degree to which I’d missed the boat blew me away.
‘Evil Jezebel!’ he screeched. ‘You will burn in eternal damnation! Consorting with Satan’s minions!’
His breath was horrible, reeking like a sewer. It provided nauseating contrast to the rancid odour wafting from his clothing.
I scanned the area, weighed my options and the distance to the nearest phone, then leaped off the table, landing as far away from him as possible.
There wasn’t any way I was going to make eye-contact with him, so I focused on his nose, which was a mass of bumps and missing skin. ‘Are you Brother Luther? What do you want?’ I asked, using my least threatening therapy voice. My heart was running a marathon.
As if he hadn’t heard my question, he continued slinging vile epithets. ‘Whore! Sinner! Evil temptress!’ He stared at me with his glassy dark eyes, tiny droplets of spit flying as he ranted.
Shit! What the hell’s going on? How can this be Brother Luther? I thought he hated vampires.
Simultaneously, I reached for the cordless phone and he lunged at me. I grabbed the phone, managed to punch in nine one, then lost my grip on it when he jerked me towards him by the fabric of my blouse.
My eyes watered as he held me close to his face. It was almost impossible to breathe while being bathed in the noxious stink radiating from his mouth. I pushed against him and had the clear impression that my wrists would break before I’d budge him an inch.
He was staring at me but his eyes were unfocused.
My bowels threatened to liquefy and I fought to turn my head to get away from the worst of it.
‘She must be punished,’ he bellowed in my face, gathering more of my shirt in his grasp. His head suddenly jerked down, his vacant eyes locking on something he now held in his palm. He screamed as the necklace Devereux had given me lit up the room, burning his hand. He dropped his book and released me, and I fell to the floor.
I speed-crawled a few feet away from him and slowly stood.
Evidently the necklace had done more than scorch him, because he put both hands on his bald dome and whimpered in a weak, shaky voice, ‘Don’t hurt me, don’t hurt me, please don’t hurt me, help me, help me . . .’
Something about his words reminded me of the dream I’d had about the child in the house.
He lowered his arms, then clutched his stomach and rocked up and down, sobbing loudly.
I became momentarily confused and almost made a move towards him.
Suddenly he jerked upright and rose to his full height, which looked taller than before, and held his arms out on either side of him. He closed his eyes and slowly let his head drop back, his mouth falling open.
It wasn’t possible, but it looked as if the coat that had hung loosely on him moments before now stretched taut across his chest, shoulders, and upper arms. As he spread his arms out, the coat flapped open, exposing his scarred, festering naked frame. His chest was a mass of oozing sores surrounded by coarse, filthy body hair, which trailed down to a thick patch sprouting a huge reddish erection.
His head snapped up as if a spring had been released and the black coals in his eyes ignited into flames. He eased his hand down his abscessed stomach, grasped his penis and began stroking its length, groaning.
‘Come to me. Touch me.’ He gave the worst smile I’ve ever seen. Thrusting his foul erection towards me, he laughed, his voice burrowing holes in my ears, making my knees weak.
I backed as far away from him as I could.
What just happened? What is this thing? Why does his voice sound familiar? Where’s his Southern accent? Why does he look different? He obviously did something to cause me to believe he’s physically bigger than he was just a few moments ago. Some mind-control ability. And what about the protection ritual? I guess it didn’t work.
He began moving the hand on his penis faster and became momentarily distracted by what I guessed was an approaching orgasm. I didn’t want to be standing in front of him when he got to that point.
I dropped to the ground, crawled towards the front door as fast as my hands and knees would carry me, and cringed when I heard him scream his release. The cry sounded more like pain than pleasure. Almost immediately I felt myself being lifted up by the waistband of the orange bottoms.
That hideous laugh washed over me again. Just as I was wondering if my death would be quick and painless or drawn out and torturous, the front door burst open and a whole flock of vampires swept into the room.
Several of them leaped on my captor, causing me to be flung against a wall, where I sat, semi-dazed, watching my vampire cavalry getting thrown around like sponge toys.
What the hell is going on? Is he some kind of vampire demon?
Brother Luther, if it really was Brother Luther, seemed to be able to control vampires as well as humans with his mind, but there were too many for him. Or else he simply lost interest. He threw down the hulking vampire whose neck he was sucking on, turned his red eyes to me and shrieked, ‘Soon.’
Then he either disappeared or moved so quickly there wasn’t even a blur, because one moment he was there, the next he wasn’t.
The vampires lay around the room, scattered like bowling pins after a strike.
The silence was broken by a deep male voice saying, ‘Get the fuck off me,’ as a short, rotund man sprang up.
I didn’t recognise any of the blood-covered warriors except one, the last one I expected to see. Still in shock, I crawled over to a woman sprawled out on the floor between the living room and the kitchen. Her long black hair was matted with blood from several head wounds and two large holes gaped at the top of her left breast where fangs had torn the skin. The wounds had already begun to heal.
‘Luna? Is that you?’
‘No, it’s the Avon lady. Are you always this dim?’
‘What are you doing here?’
‘Saving your unimportant ass.’
I nodded and smoothed a clump of her long hair away from her frowning face. ‘Believe me, I appreciate that, but how did you know that – whatever he was – was here?’
She slapped my hand away. ‘Devereux expected trouble tonight and ordered me to keep watch on your house as well as the vampires he already had guarding you. He said I should bring more reinforcements, just in case. I thought he was overreacting because of his unfathomable attachment to you, but I hung out, watching you through the window. I saw the skuzzy guy appear, summoned the others, and the rest is history.’
She sat up. I tried to help her, but she slapped my hand away again.
‘Who is that guy? Or, better yet, what is that guy?’
She shrugged. ‘I don’t know – he was your gentleman caller, not mine – but whoever he is, Devereux’s going to rip him a new one. I hope I get to watch.’
‘How was he able to control you and all the other vampires like that? I thought mind control only worked on humans?’
She nodded while tapping her index finger on her chin in thought. ‘It usually does only work on humans. It takes one hell of a powerful vampire to control other vampire minds, and the only one I’ve ever seen do it is Devereux. He’s definitely going to go ballistic. Whoever the guy with the boner is, he’s gonna find out what happens to vampires who mess with the Master’s property.’
Master’s property?
I was way too exhausted and traumatised to open up that coffin of worms, but Devereux and I were definitely going to have to come to an understanding.