Page 95 of Starved Until Sunset

“A vampire,” Demetrius said. “Get indoors and don’t let anyone inside you don’t know.”

“For real?” the scarecrow asked.

“For real,” Amelia said. “Go on, get your friend inside.”

Screams erupted down the street, and Demetrius hurried toward the commotion, Amelia and Otis right behind him. People ran in all directions, bumping and jostling him as he forced his way against the tide toward the source of the panic. A group of vampires had nabbed several victims and fastened greedy mouths on their necks. One brave friend, a skinny man wearing a headband with werewolf ears that now sat askew on his head, hammered at the back of the neck of one of the vampires who fed from a pale, wispy girl who was turning decidedly more pallid.

Demetrius raised his squirt gun, but before he could pull the trigger, Xavier stepped out of the shadowed entrance of a nearby alley. The streetlight revealed him in all his terrifying glory. The bald scalp, upturned nose, and long, pointed ears that made him look more like a bat than a man. His wide mouth with thin lips and nightmarishly long fangs. Pale arms that ended in massive hands with long, multi-jointed fingers tipped with claws.

Xavier strode into the light proudly, as if putting himself on display for all to see. He approached the man trying to detach the vampire from his girlfriend and placed a big hand on the back of his head. With a flick of his wrist, Xavier tossed the man behind him into the dark alley.

That casual violence snapped Demetrius out of his stunned gawking.

“Hey, fuck face!” he shouted.

Xavier stopped and turned glowing red eyes on him. Demetrius forced himself to look at Xavier’s chest to avoid being hypnotized by him. He was about to pull the trigger on his squirt gun when someone bumped his shoulder from behind, and he staggered to the side. When he’d regained his balance, Demetrius saw John the Bastard trudge right past Xavier without a second look, a takeout container of food in one hand. And, interestingly enough, Xavier actually stepped aside slightly to allow John to pass.

It all came together in a flash of insight.

John the Bastard was the Renfield.

His wife was in the hospital receiving special care way out of John’s means.

John held the only key to the locked basement at the DPW.

Shrieky Pete had said there were demons right beneath their feet when he’d confronted Demetrius in the hospital elevator.

“I know,” Demetrius said to himself, then turned to look for Amelia and Otis. “I know where they are!”

But Amelia and Otis were struggling with two elderly vampires who had grabbed the barrels of their squirt guns. Demetrius clenched his jaw and released a stream of holy water that drenched the vampires and several people around them. The vampires released Amelia and Otis and ran off into the night as the people who’d been hit glared at him.

“What the fuck?” one girl shouted. “That had better just be water.”

“Get off the street!” Amelia shouted back. “He’s saving your life!”

Demetrius turned in place, trigger depressed and sending a stream of holy water into the crowd as he moved. He drenched the vampire feeding on the pale, thin girl, gratified when it ran off. People shouted and cursed, but no one burned. Right before the jet of water reached Xavier, it fizzled out, reduced to a dribble. Demetrius cursed and checked the gun. The reservoir was empty.

“Fuck!” He turned toward Amelia. “I’m out of water!”

A strong hand gripped him by the throat, choking him. Demetrius dropped the squirt gun and grabbed the steadily tightening fingers. The skin was cold and clammy, and the fingers long and immovable, cutting off his air. He was lifted off the ground, kicking his feet as his mouth opened and closed, trying to gulp in even the smallest gasp of air. Xavier drew him close, lips turned up into a terrible smile.

“You’re out of time, as well.”

A blast of water hit the side of Xavier’s head and splashed across Demetrius’s face. Smoke rose from burning skin that crackled and blackened. Xavier shrieked and released him, dropping Demetrius to the sidewalk before vanishing in a whirl of smoke, leaving behind the smell of rot and burned flesh.

Choking and gasping as he sucked air through his bruised and burning throat, Demetrius looked up. Amelia stood several feet away, fingers tight around the plastic squirt gun. People scrambled for safety around and away from her. He smiled and she managed a shaky smile in return, then pushed her glasses up her nose and started toward him.

Before Amelia reached him, hands gripped his upper arms from behind, and Demetrius shouted. But Oliver stood to one side of him and Dave the other, each of them holding one of his arms.

“You’re okay,” Dave said. “It’s just us.”

He sounded so much like Cody in that moment, Demetrius had to fight back tears. Accepting their help, he got to his feet and turned his head slowly back and forth to test the muscles in his neck. That old injury he’d sustained from Esther the lake monster would most likely show up in the next day or two. As long as he survived the night.

“Are you all right?” Amelia asked.

“I am, thanks to you,” Demetrius said.

“Oh, ash trees,” Amelia said. “You’ve done it for me.”