Chapter 25 - Vampire Leapfrog

Shit! Flint cursed internally as the fabric of Goldie’s shirt slipped from between his two fingers and she was off on the hunt.

The vampire, when he appeared, had stood still for a moment, seeming as shocked as they were to have encountered each other. Flint had taken in at once the black hair with a white stripe and the distinct odor of pine and bitter herbs that overrode Goldie’s sweetly herbal scent. Fatherborne. Unfortunately for both males Goldie’s instinct was lightning-fast, and before either of them could react she was armed and on the move.

The bottom dropped out of Flint’s stomach as he watched Goldie give chase. This wasn’t like it had been with Cora, when Flint had been eager to see a switch take out a bloodsucking monster and wasn’t too mindful of the cost to any one member of The Cause. No, this time there was something precious to lose, and Flint would be damned if he let that happen.

Flint shifted with a roar and barrelled after the pair, his bear lumbering like a tank, taking out small trees and rolling over felled logs as he gained on Goldie and her prey, sending his thoughts ahead of him. I got you, switch. Right here with you.

No coherent thoughts came back to him, just a raw bloodlust that felt all too similar to his own. Goldie was locked in to the fight now, and Flint had no way to get her out. All he could do was be there to do his job as a shifter of The Cause and maybe they’d both get out of this alive. Then… what. No, he focused on the hunt, ran faster, his eyes on his switch, his charge, his…

Goldie had reached the Fatherborne, was leaping at him, but before she could Flint had an impression of the vampire’s edges going blurry, wavy with little tendrils of what looked like black smoke but thick, opaque, like they had a weight and purpose to them. Not moving down like liquid or up like smoke, but curling around the vampire’s form like tiny snakes until he disappeared, fading out of sight, slower than Flint had seen it happen before but still only lasting milliseconds. Something was wrong.

He phazed! Flint yelled at Goldie with his mind. He could come ba-

Before he could finish the thought the vampire reappeared a few yards from where he’d been, looking taxed. The sunlight. Slows them down, makes phazing difficult. He must be desperate to find Brittany.

Goldie had already course-corrected and was closing in fast. The bloodsucker’s lips curled in a snarl and he tensed. Those same miniscule, black snakes of thick, shiny smoke curled around his body again, and now Flint knew what that meant. He’s gonna phaze!

Goldie vocalized, a fierce yell, and pushed off hard with one foot. Pebbles shifted under her feet and she lunged, but she was clumsy. Flint ran for her, but could not stop her from tripping over a root and pitching face-first at the ground. Her knife skittered across the rocks. Shoot, she said in his mind, and then, just before her face went splat, green lightning bubbles blossomed out of her fingers. She was too close to the ground.

But her green airbag expanded quicker than his eyes could follow, and she rebounded right into her prey’s arms. The Fatherborne looked stunned for the breath-stealing moment before the slender tips of the smoky whisps curled fluidly around Goldie and both figures flickered into nothingness.

NO! Flint’s heart nearly beat out of his chest as he barrelled on, unable to accept what he’d just seen. He’d taken her! The fucking bloodfiend had taken her! Goldie!

But they reappeared, only a yard from where they’d been, and Flint was coming at them like a freight train. Goldie was wriggling to get free, her voice in his head a chorus of panicked cries for help, and the vampire was tightening his hold on her, clenching long, slender fingers in her clothes and tensing his muscles like he was about to phaze. The blacks wisps, what Flint could only figure were some kind of bloodsucker magic, were on the move again, extending from the vampire to touch Goldie. No fucking chance, bloodfucker. Not while I’m around.

With a roar Flint met his victim, grabbing hold of the vampire’s thigh with his teeth and biting down until he heard bone crunch, whipping the monster around to make him let go of Goldie.

The bitter flavor of vampire filled his mouth and sinuses, as if the thick black magic was something he could taste and swallow. Flint nearly retched, it was so foul. Jesus, these fuckers taste horrible! Get out, Goldie, get away!

Goldie’s voice in his head was urgent. I can’t!

Flint locked his jaws and shook his massive head, feeling joints leave their sockets as he wrecked their enemy the best way he knew how. Above him the vampire screamed in agony and Flint took a punch to the head that he didn’t feel, only saw. He bit harder, got his claws in there, heading for vampire throat, slashing vampire backbone, growled his loudest. He would tear the guy apart if he had to. He’d dig the heart out of the dirt for Goldie to stab.

The vampire cried out again, in agony. That’s right, fucker. Flint ripped and bit at him, his own growling all he could hear.

Goldie free, rolling away, but yelling in her mind, too.

Knife! He’s got a knife!

Bloodblade. Flint dug in with his teeth and whipped the vampire to one side, away from Goldie, twisting to flip the creature twenty feet into the brush. Flint watched the vampire heap laying where he’d thrown it. Get your knife, Goldie.

The vampire disappeared. Slowly. Shit. He popped into existence again three yards further away from them, still seated, deep in the forest, shielded from the worst of the sun by the thick canopy high above.

Goldie went for him. Flint whirled to chase, but the vampire disappeared again. Pop. Fast this time, the black magicks swirling so thick and close to his body Flint could barely see them. Goldie made it to where he’d been, growling like a bear, stabbing at the air.

“Where’s the vampire?” she said out loud, her voice strange; deep and twisting with nuance. She plunged deeper into the forest, slashing at plants with her knife. “Olly olly oxen free,” she called. Flint lumbered behind her, then decided the vampire was gone. They needed to be, also, before he came back with friends.

Flint rolled his bear eyes and tugged roughly at Goldie’s waistband with his teeth. This was the dicey part. How to get her to engage with him, and not stay fixated on killing.

She pushed his nose away from her waistband, ignoring him completely. “Come on out, I won’t hurt you,” she was whispering into the air, creeping through the underbrush, stabbing a bit. “Much.”

Goldie, we have to go. This way.

She ignored him. Now she was whistling. “Here vampy, vampy.”

Goldie, listen, we have to catch up to J and Brittany, make sure they’re safe. The vampire might-

He broke off, still sticking close to her, his bear’s shoulders almost as high as her head. That probably wasn’t a good idea, to promise her a vampire. What if there was none to kill? He’d been at Cora’s Undoing of Garner, and she’d been pissed when he was dead, no longer stabbable.

Flint gave another tug on her waistband. Run with me, Goldie. Now. The vampire is gone. Now we run.

He moved against her, pushing at her with his big body, just enough to make her remember he was there. That did it, finally. She looked at him. Really looked at him. She clipped her knife to her belt and touched his right ear lightly. It tickled. He sneezed. She dropped her hand and just looked at him, her face dark and unreadable. Then she whirled and ran, faster than he could hope to catch her. He tried anyway, really tucking in, tearing at the forest floor with his big claws, giving it everything he had, staying as close as he could, always keeping eye on her, not a breath to spare for thinking.

She vaulted a fallen tree, but her toes caught on it. Her green airbag shot out, corrected her, and she flipped over it, almost like Cora did over nothing. It made her move faster. Flint did not have the breath to complain. He could only run. And watch.

Damn, did he know how to pick ‘em. She was fucking spectacular.

They ran for what felt like eternity before she eased up. Her magic seemed to fade a bit, and then she was walking. He caught his breath before coming up beside her, watching her face and body for clues to how she was. She looked almost normal, her expression mostly rage-free. Hop on, Pumpkin.

She looked surprised.

He snuffled. Stopped. Splayed his legs and belly flat on the ground so she could reach his back. You’re tired. Come on.

She didn’t argue, just stood awkwardly next to him for a moment before throwing one leg over his back and pressing her whole body down until she could wrap her arms around his neck and clasp his fur in her hands.

Settle in, he told her, wanting her comfortable.

And she did, and it was everything Flint had ever wanted. His bear, the one in his heart and soul, gave a contented, grumbling sound that was dangerously close to a purr. He roughened it. Bears don’t purr.

Goldie’s hands adjusted a bit, spanning his shoulders, fingers slipping through the fur around his neck in a way that would have given him goosebumps in his human form. Ready, she said in his head.

They set off at a steady pace, as fast as Flint could go without jostling the exhausted switch on his back. As she settled into his rhythm she started to think at him, her voice in his head lightly slurred with fatigue. You were right. I’d run out on my kids to kill a vampire. I can’t even lie.

He nodded his big bear head. We’ll work it out, together.

Her reply was so long in coming, Flint was sure she’d fallen asleep. Then it was there, the barest caress of a thought moving through his mind, almost as if she’d sent it without meaning to. I know we will. You’re my bear.

Her words seeped deep, warming him down to his marrow, putting a swagger in his four-footed stride.

Damn straight I am.