Read Online The Vampire Hunters (Book 2): Vampyrnomicon by Scott M. Baker - Free Book Online Page B
Authors: Scott M. Baker
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undead later. He had more important things to do at the moment. While continuing to pet his companion, Drake raised the cigar to his lips, took a long drag, and blew smoke into the air.
Besides, with any luck the female master would be dead in a couple of days, along with the remnants of the nest.
* * *
The darkness closed in around Antoinette Varela, engulfing her, masking her deformities. She prowled from one darkened location of Rock Creek Park to the next, moving quickly to avoid the street lights. For centuries the night had been her friend, the faithful confidante that abetted her liaisons and kept her secrets. She had thrived on it. Not anymore. Now she hid in the dark, using it much like a shy child hides behind an older sibling to conceal its embarrassment.
Toni growled. Not as part of the hunt, but out of fury. Fuck the humans. All of them. The hunters in particular. They stole the night from her. They deformed her, tore the beauty from her.
For the thousandth time, she swore by Almighty Satan to make them pay dearly.
Toni always had been beautiful. She had used her sensuality to her advantage, which made the hunt that much easier. Many of her prey willingly sacrificed themselves to be with her. Over the centuries, Toni had taken many a virile young man or woman to her bed, drinking of their sex as well as their life blood, quenching her lust and her thirst. Centuries of war with the humans had left her unscathed, even though these pitiful creatures had tried their hardest to destroy her. A failed burning as a witch. A near beheading during the French Revolution. And more gun, sword, and dagger wounds than she could even remember. She had regenerated after each attack, each time restoring her full beauty and sensuality.
Until she faced off against the hunters.
The anger that welled up inside of Toni at the thought of the hunters caused her to involuntarily morph into a vampire. That same uncontrollable urge she felt since the night at Wolf Trap burned inside of her, an urge to kill. No, not kill. To ravage. To literally tear a human apart. To get revenge and assuage the indignity the hunters had wreaked upon her. Only with the greatest of difficulty did she finally control her emotions, suppressing the rage and returning to her human form.
Toni knew she needed to keep her fury in check. She had survived for centuries on her cunning and instinct, by allowing her predatory nature free reign rather than the pitiful emotional remnants of her human past. Over the centuries, she and Ion had faced scores of humans who had decided to battle the undead. Holy men. Adventurers. Do-gooders. Mercenaries. Some did it for religious reasons. Some for money. Some because they enjoyed a good fight. Many fought valiantly. All died in unspeakable manners. Until she met Drake Mathews and Alison Monroe.
The hunters were a different sort of enemy. She had no idea why they were so effective. Their fighting skills were good, but she had fought tougher and more experienced humans. Granted, they possessed an impressive knowledge of her kind. Even so, it could not explain their advantage. As good as the hunters were, they were still only human, and as such inferior to a vampire.
The humans did excel in their weaponry. Somehow, the hunters had separated reality from mythology, and used that knowledge to their advantage. Vampires did not sleep in coffins filled with their native soil; they only needed to stay out of the sun. They could not turn into bats, wolves, or fog. Crucifixes and religious symbols, garlic, silver, and running water had no effect on them. They could only eliminate her kind by sunlight, incineration, staking, or decapitation. Holy water, which was not fatal to the undead, burned like the fires of Hell itself.
And maimed. For reasons long since forgotten by the undead themselves, holy water had a deformative effect on them. Wounds, burns, lacerations, and all other manner of injuries would
Besides, with any luck the female master would be dead in a couple of days, along with the remnants of the nest.
* * *
The darkness closed in around Antoinette Varela, engulfing her, masking her deformities. She prowled from one darkened location of Rock Creek Park to the next, moving quickly to avoid the street lights. For centuries the night had been her friend, the faithful confidante that abetted her liaisons and kept her secrets. She had thrived on it. Not anymore. Now she hid in the dark, using it much like a shy child hides behind an older sibling to conceal its embarrassment.
Toni growled. Not as part of the hunt, but out of fury. Fuck the humans. All of them. The hunters in particular. They stole the night from her. They deformed her, tore the beauty from her.
For the thousandth time, she swore by Almighty Satan to make them pay dearly.
Toni always had been beautiful. She had used her sensuality to her advantage, which made the hunt that much easier. Many of her prey willingly sacrificed themselves to be with her. Over the centuries, Toni had taken many a virile young man or woman to her bed, drinking of their sex as well as their life blood, quenching her lust and her thirst. Centuries of war with the humans had left her unscathed, even though these pitiful creatures had tried their hardest to destroy her. A failed burning as a witch. A near beheading during the French Revolution. And more gun, sword, and dagger wounds than she could even remember. She had regenerated after each attack, each time restoring her full beauty and sensuality.
Until she faced off against the hunters.
The anger that welled up inside of Toni at the thought of the hunters caused her to involuntarily morph into a vampire. That same uncontrollable urge she felt since the night at Wolf Trap burned inside of her, an urge to kill. No, not kill. To ravage. To literally tear a human apart. To get revenge and assuage the indignity the hunters had wreaked upon her. Only with the greatest of difficulty did she finally control her emotions, suppressing the rage and returning to her human form.
Toni knew she needed to keep her fury in check. She had survived for centuries on her cunning and instinct, by allowing her predatory nature free reign rather than the pitiful emotional remnants of her human past. Over the centuries, she and Ion had faced scores of humans who had decided to battle the undead. Holy men. Adventurers. Do-gooders. Mercenaries. Some did it for religious reasons. Some for money. Some because they enjoyed a good fight. Many fought valiantly. All died in unspeakable manners. Until she met Drake Mathews and Alison Monroe.
The hunters were a different sort of enemy. She had no idea why they were so effective. Their fighting skills were good, but she had fought tougher and more experienced humans. Granted, they possessed an impressive knowledge of her kind. Even so, it could not explain their advantage. As good as the hunters were, they were still only human, and as such inferior to a vampire.
The humans did excel in their weaponry. Somehow, the hunters had separated reality from mythology, and used that knowledge to their advantage. Vampires did not sleep in coffins filled with their native soil; they only needed to stay out of the sun. They could not turn into bats, wolves, or fog. Crucifixes and religious symbols, garlic, silver, and running water had no effect on them. They could only eliminate her kind by sunlight, incineration, staking, or decapitation. Holy water, which was not fatal to the undead, burned like the fires of Hell itself.
And maimed. For reasons long since forgotten by the undead themselves, holy water had a deformative effect on them. Wounds, burns, lacerations, and all other manner of injuries would
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