Heaven for a Predator, page 9
Isabel began to slowly stir, so Furii was forced to get out of her bed roll and look nonplussed. There was an almost comfortable silence as they had breakfast together, in a manner of speaking. Blood caps were handed out, more stashed human food given and surface pleasantries abounded. Gamboori eased off taunting Furii, and both kept a kinder tone. Regardless of the attempt at normalcy, the gloom was still pendulous. As soon as the sun had fully set, they put every window down. Better to risk a swarm of autophages than to smell their rotting corpses. Even the newest one was beginning to swell rapidly.
When they were 20 kilometres out of the city, Furii stopped the truck and carefully surveyed their surroundings. When she was confident that there was no one in their proximity to see what she was doing, Furii sealed Isabel away in her secret compartment. For the sake of theatre, she also restrained Gamboori again. The rest of the drive to the city was done white knuckled, tension evident in her gritted jaw and darting looks.
Upon reaching the gates to the city, Furii glanced at Gamboori and nodded sympathetically. He averted his eyes, refusing to acknowledge the implied apology. The guards checked the usual parts of the van, but upon smelling the rancid bodies in the bed of the truck, they simply waved them through. Small mercies, Furii thought as she took the roads leading up to the Du Mort manor.
As much as she wanted to drop the bodies off first, Furii had no doubt that the Duchess would be tracking her vehicle. It seemed to be the thing to do lately.
The security officers at the mansion were equally disgusted by the smell of the vehicle, but managed to at least open the doors and inspect that there was no one living in the back. Furii was instructed to park as far from the mansion as possible, lest they stink up the occupants. This part was intensely entertaining to her, and she pushed that boundary with glee. While driving up the excessively long driveway, Furii tested the wind, and made sure to park upwind of the main entrance. A butler came hurrying out.
'Hunter Furii of the Hellstorm clan, I... ugh!' The usually stoic hired help now retched aggressively, panic in his eyes. He barely looked at Gamboori, instead making fast moves towards the main door. As soon as we had cleared the threshold, he slammed it closed aggressively to attempt to block out the stench. Furii couldn't help but grin. This was the level of petty she adored. Again she was led through the warren of hallways to a closed set of beautifully ornate doors. There were clear sounds of a party beyond.
Sniffing herself delighted Furii even more. With too many days on the road, a battle zone and time spent with rotting autophages, she smelled utterly ripe. The richest of vampire society were about to be olfactorily assaulted. Gamboori did not return the goofy smile. The doors were thrown open, and Furii strode in, wafting her stench through the room. The most hideous glares were shot back in response, but none dared speak now that Furii and the Duchess had locked eyes.
‘Duchess, I have returned your human to you.'
‘Very good. Take it to the stable with all the other cattle, then clean up and you may join us.'
'The cattle?' Furii chided, stifling a sneer before the Duchess noticed.
'Yes, around the back. You have already been there, nosing about. I am sure you can find a stable-hand or something to take that thing.'
That was the moment that Furii realised Gamboori had been correct. His return was just a small bonus for her having eradicated any chance at fighting the Du Morts and their vampire elite, as well as stifling the secret of the special autophages.
He was right. She was wrong.
She had killed so many people based upon this lie.
The silence had stretched on for far too long. Gamboori subtly tugged at his end of the restraints, reminding Furii that she had been given an order and was now being watched carefully. She simply chose to nod at the Duchess, then leave.
'You simply cannot train the lower classes to be anything but trash...' Furii heard her intone pointedly, to the roars of laughter. The thoughts in her mind were a massive crushing avalanche, tearing sanity from its moorings. Gamboori was smart enough to hold silent.
As soon as they left the main mansion, Furii muttered tersely. 'Give me two nights. Be ready.' She didn't even look over at him. There was no point. She could feel the elation, hear the rapid beat of his heart kicking into overdrive. When Gamboori was handed off to the stable hand, who much more resembled a prison guard, Furii began to take note of people and weapons. She counted carefully, memorising every window and door. Every detail was cemented into her mental layout.
This time Furii was shown to a small bathroom in the servants’ quarters, which suited her just fine. This was likely the best way in. There was a great deal of soap, a threadbare towel and a servant's uniform placed out for her, a none-too-subtle hint. Furii took as much time as she dared to, knowing that Isabel was still stuck in the compartment. Even with her many books, it would not be easy. Scrubbed from top to toe, Furii had to admit she did feel better.
Finally, the staff were convinced that Furii was at least clean enough to return to the party. She accepted a drink she had no intention of touching before sidling back over to the Duchess Du Mort.
'Why didn't you tell me...' Furii started, but was interrupted by every head in the room turning toward her and a sharp look from the Duchess Du Mort.
'Tell you what, little killer?' She spoke with a maniacal grin. The spider was now looking down on its little trapped fly. Furii realised that the Duchess was looking for a reason to have her killed. There would be no fighting her way out of this one, in a room full of her peers and several armed thugs.
'That he was such a looker, but such a pain in the ass. How do you cope with all that talking?' she asked, puffed up with mock bravado. It seemed to stick, the Duchess roaring with laughter.
'My darling killer, that is why you beat them until they cannot talk. Eventually the poor dim creatures learn. That one was particularly hard, however. Part of why I am so fond of it. Took some taming, but the blood was divine. It lacked the fear you get so often with these beasts.' Her voice was the poisoned steel knife, hidden in the milk and honey. It allured and disgusted in equal volumes. Furii just agreed silently. The sooner she got her money, the sooner she could leave.
Furii swirled her drink, watching the bubbles dance over the subtle oil sheen of poison. It was time to go. They were all eyeing her hungrily, waiting for her inevitable collapse.
'Well Duchess, I have impinged upon your delightful soiree for long enough. If you would be so kind as to transfer the rest of those bits to my account, I shall not bother you again.' Furii let a little of the drink slosh out of the glass, making sure the Duchess saw the outrageously red liquid splash onto her perfectly clean beige carpet. Furii pretended to take a long drink from the glass, without letting the liquid touch her lips, a method taught to the beginner bounty hunter. Many had been poisoned by drinks offered from a ‘grateful’ contractor. So much so that it became standard to teach all apprentices how to detect and avoid poison.
There was a tense stand-off before the Duchess Du Mort simply smiled slowly, and gestured with her hand. Within a minute, the silence was torn by a subtle beep from Furii's comms pod, notifying her that the money was in.
'Well, I thank you greatly for the ease of this little business deal. If you will excuse me, I have a van of dead autos that I must cash in on.' Furii made her voice and words as coarse as possible. Members of the listening crowd actually winced.
'Oh, don't let me keep you from your little errands of death. You deserve the most there.' The Duchess Du Mort was bitter, and it showed on her face. Checking the carpet one last time revealed it being eaten away in slow bubbles by the poison spilt upon it. By now the feverish crowd would expect her insides to be liquid. Alas for their blood glee, Furii safely managed to leave the mansion, striding confidently towards the truck. There was still every possible chance that a sniper had been procured to finish Furii off in case the poison did not, but no death pellets rained down. As an added touch, she made sure to feign extreme pains while driving through the security checkpoint.
They were out.
Chapter 16
Not willing to risk stopping and checking on Isabel, Furii just had to hope she was surviving in there. The Sheriff was the final stop, to unload the tagged autophages and collect the last money she would earn in this city. The Sheriff's office seemed to be aware she was approaching, which was no surprise. It was clear she was tracked, and there was a general sense of wariness. As Furii drove into the drop-off zone, she could swear she saw the Sheriff's trigger finger itch. He was surrounded by his usual goons, and sweat was in abundance. Their gaze prickled into Furii as she stepped out of the cab. Tempted to put her hands or at least a single finger up, Furii opted to simply act clueless.
'Hellstorm, you have returned from the Duchess Du Mort's mission. How- er, how did that go?' The sheriff mumbled nervously. Furii nodded quietly, not willing to waste the breath to respond. He was inspecting Furii carefully, and she was sure that he was looking for signs of poisoning.
The sheriff looked at each of his men in turn. When he nodded, they moved to the back of Furii's truck and opened the doors. At least two retched, and one ran for a pole to puke behind. Furii just grinned.
'I gotta admit, I generally think you women aren't cut out for sheriff-in’, but I see things like this and it shows how vicious you all are.' The smirk smeared across his obese face was full of patronising intent. Furii sighed, but the sheriff continued to dig. 'Especially you darker ones, normally your kind only work hard to get a man to leech off, but you, you are sure unique.' The man wheezed with the effort of pushing his enormous, sweat-slick bulk away from his idle lean against the work bench. Furii ignored the casually racist comment, simply filing it away in her mind as another check mark against the sheriff.
'Boss, please don't make us...' One of the men tried to protest, but was cut off by the Sheriff.
'You rookies better get onto it. You, Hellstorm, come with me.' The sheriff grunted out the orders, all the while indicating to Furii to follow him to his office. Furii stalled, afraid of the rookies finding Isabel in her compartment. A louder grunt and an inaudible muttered word spurred her on. All Furii could hope for was that Isabel was capable of defending herself. She had left the autophage with enough weapons to give any attacker hell.
Back to that awful drab office, with its stench of sweat and deception. The sheriff crashed his ungainly bulk into his chair and sighed, eyeing Furii over. Despite being a putrid genocidal bigot, he was still smart enough to calculate the risk of her. Furii tried to look nonchalant and non-threatening. The guns and sickles over black body arnour did not help.
'So you have completed a mission for the Duchess Du Mort and brought me more dead autophages. Anything unusual that you noticed?' he asked bluntly. Direct it was, then.
'Yes, they were sentient again. I tagged the ones I got on the road, but clearing out that mess in the desert would have taken too long. Thought it was best to leave them there to rot underground, where no one could find them.' She conveniently left out the part where at least one room of people was left untouched. The sheriff leaned back against his long-suffering chair.
'So you killed them and left them. Not ideal, but it will do. I could transfer more if you had tagged and returned them. Good for poking 'n prodding by 'em scientists. Still, will pay fer the ones you did return.' The sheriff watched Furii carefully for a moment, hoping she would collapse, and he would not have to pay out the money for her kills. When no weakness was shown, he sighed again and transferred the bounty. For the second time today, her comms pod beeped to show a large transfer. Furii smiled with gritted teeth, wary as ever.
Poor Isabel was still stuck in the truck filled with rotting autophage flesh, and this man seemed determined to stall her. Putting on what she hoped equated to an amicable smile, Furii tried to set up an imminent exit.
'Well Sheriff, lovely as always. I will be heading out to claim my next bounties in the next few days. I will talk to you later.' She stood, making sure that every move was purposeful and slow. The Sheriff's trigger finger was itching up a storm. His hands trembled over his ridiculously large gun. Furii hoped that impotence applied to those tense fingers too, and only relaxed when she made it back to the basement.
The truck stood abandoned, all bodies removed, although no attempt had been made to clean all of the fluids. Isabel was nowhere to be seen, so Furii had to simply hope that they had not found her. She jumped into the driver's seat and took off as fast as her caution could allow. Everything had to seem normal for two days. All hell could, and would, break loose in two days, no sooner.
Pulling into her own home was a relief. Furii closed the garage doors as quickly as possible, then ran to free Isabel. The smell was indescribable, flesh and putrefaction tinged with the rust of blood and metal. The decomposing autophages had begun to corrode the floor of the truck. The second that Furii released the hidden hatch, Isabel jumped out of her cocoon. Even for an autophage, she looked pale.
'I don't think I can ever truly communicate how vile that experience was. Even with moving the bodies, the bile from them leaked through and burnt my arm. Please don't ever make me do that again,' Isabel begged, showing an arm both covered in purge fluid and blood. Furii felt waves of guilt washing away her ability to speak.
'I... I am... I tried, she stammered in a futile attempt at communication. Isabel put her good hand on Furii's shoulder.
'I get it, but right now I desperately need a shower and a bandage,' she said gently, as her blood continued to drip to the floor. Furii took the cue, running to prepare everything Isabel needed. While she was cleaning up, Furii took the time to thoroughly clean out her truck before airing it out as best she could in the closed garage.
The hot-cold roller coaster of her shower still felt blissful after so many days of travel and warfare. Furii luxuriated in her second shower of the day for far longer than she had intended, ensuring every bit of blood and grime was cleansed. She took the extended scrubbing time to start working on a plan for the promised two days.
When Furii emerged from the bathroom, Isabel was already asleep on the couch. The autophage now had a silver halo of hair growing out, and normal hands, despite their silver tones. Only a handful of days with regular feeding and she was beginning to pass as a regular vampire.
Furii briefly wondered if the ruling families knew that rehabilitation was possible, but she doubted that they cared enough to investigate.
Before collapsing into bed herself, Furii ordered a small fortune in blood capsules to be delivered ASAP, then set an alarm to go and visit Vincenza. She was going to need every trick she could muster to pull this off.
Chapter 17
The blaring was infuriating. An alarm, screeching in her ear. Furii cussed and moaned before remembering why she had set the alarm. It was time to work. There was an almighty battle to be planning, She would have to do some of her best work to survive this and to save the humans.
A check in with Isabel had the plan shared, and her eagerness was clear. Next Furii had to contact Nakhari, who was clearly expecting her call. Her congenial tones soothed Furii’s tension as she answered.
'Well hello killer, got a need to chat or shall we get to this rather distressing news that the spirits scream into my ear?' the seer said by way of greeting.
Furii didn't even bother acting surprised.
'I have to get Gamboori out of there. I plan on releasing as many of the others that I can. Then I head for the desert and the rest of those left at the hideout.'
'By doing so, the city will wage war on my tribe and murder us all,' Nakhari stated, without exaggeration or flair. This was a simple fact, shared amongst blood sisters.
'You have seen this, so I suppose we must plan for it. But I told Gamboori that I would come for him in two days. They called the humans cattle, Nakhari.' Furii felt an emotional outburst threaten to erupt, her voice choking. It was hard to breathe.
'They do, they come to raid us for wild raised stock, remember? Go get him, and as many as you can save, then meet me at the location you found Gamboori.' Nakhari advised. Furii was shocked.
'Meet you there? But what about the tribe? The Du Morts will surely attack soon after whether I am successful or not.' As much as she needed Nakhari's aid, Furii could not endanger the tribe.
'My dear, the tribe has been packing up for the last two days. Many have already left to go to the meeting point. We realise that it is time to move away from the city.' The seer was endlessly practical in her leadership. Furii choked back tears.
'I am sorry to make you move, but I will be there, and I will fight for your people.' She blurted out the words in a jumble, before disconnecting the call abruptly. Furii had never been good with emotions, especially when she felt plagued by guilt.
Now to the second task. As Furii shoved a handful of blood caps in her mouth, she instructed Isabel to discreetly and quietly start packing. It was time to see Vincenza.
Entering the Hellstorm compound for what was probably the last time felt oddly correct. While under the guise of a family clan, the Hellstorm organisation was none too different from a corporation. The bounty hunters were all good little employees, making the tithes taken for raising unwanted children and turning them into elite vampire bounty hunters. Furii found that she was just unable to care anymore, all illusions irreparably shattered. One little autophage with the tempest in their eyes had woken Furii from her lethargy. Part of her missed the apathy, the voided empathy.
Unfortunately, life rarely allowed such nonsense to continue.
Loading up with everything that could go “bang”, Furii made sure to grab all of Vincenza's excellent explosive pods. Money really was no object thanks to her ill-gotten gains. All those digital bits would be worth nothing in the wasteland, so she had to splurge. Money meant squat in the face of survival. Bombs would make better companions. Vincenza seemed a little surprised at Furii's spend up, but knew better than to question it. A bounty hunter buying that much ammunition and explosives was one to be left in peace.
