Vampire Shift (Kiera Hudson Series One #1)

Vampire Shift (Kiera Hudson Series One #1) Page 19
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Vampire Shift (Kiera Hudson Series One #1) Page 19

The draft from the open doorway caused the candlelight to flicker, sending long, dark shadows up the inside of the church. The church was silent, and its thick stone walls muffled the sound of the howling wind outside. From inside the church, the wind sounded like children weeping.

The smell of wax and incense was sweet and seemed almost intoxicating. Taking my hands from my pockets, I blew warm breath over them. Wiggling my fingers, I tried to get some feeling back. My nose and ears felt numb as well, and my hair was wet with melting snow. Walking between the rows of pews, my boots made a whispering sound against the hard stone floor. I looked over my shoulder to see where Craig was. He was taking two candles from beneath a statue of the Virgin Mary.

"Take one of these," he said, holding out the candle towards me, and even though he had whispered, his voice echoed around the church.

Weaving my way between the pews, I made my way towards him. Taking one of the candles, I said, "You can take your hood off now."

"You must be joking," he said. "It's freezing in here." Then holding a candle out before him, he said, "Let's see what's down here."

I followed Craig to a set of grey stone steps that spiralled downwards into the darkness beneath the church. "What do you reckon?" he said, looking back at me over his shoulder.

"About what?" I asked him.

"Does this seem the sorta place that vampires would hang out?" he said from beneath his hood.

"How should I know?"

"I thought you were the expert," he said.

"If what you're trying to tell me is that you're scared, sergeant, then I'll go first," I said, brushing past him and making my way down the spiral staircase.

"That's not what I was saying at all," his voice echoed, followed by the sound of his footsteps as he rushed after me.

Taking one step at a time, I made my way down into the darkness. Even though I held the candle with both hands, it still shook from side to side as I trembled in fear at what might be hiding below. The stairs seemed never-ending, spiralling around and around like a corkscrew, burying itself into the earth. Craig was right behind me and he took short, shallow breaths. I guessed we were nearing the bottom of the stairwell, as not only had the air grown colder, it was damper, too. In the candlelight, I could see mould growing down the walls and the plink-plink-plink sound of water dripping in the distance.

Looking down, I could see the last couple of steps levelling out into a narrow tunnel. Like everything else around me, the tunnel had been chiselled out of the rock and earth below ground. Without enough room in the tunnel to walk side by side, we had to walk single-file, with me leading. We hadn't been going long, when the light from my candle seemed to fade. It hadn't gone out - it had dimmed. It took me a few seconds to realise that we had stepped from the tunnel into a huge open chamber. It was so vast and black, that the darkness that surrounded us seemed to be sucking up the light from our candles.

Craig came and stood next to me, and even with the light from both of our candles, it did nothing to penetrate the black wall of darkness in front of us. The blackness almost seemed to reach out and touch me. It was like it wanted to smother me, suffocate me. The silence was deafening and the only noise I could hear was the frantic beating of my own heart.

"Craig," I whispered.

"Yes?"

"Where are we?"

"In my lair," said a voice, and it wasn't Craig's. The voice came from in front of me, only a few feet away. It was so sudden and unexpected that I flinched and screamed all at the same time.

"Craig, are you there?" I called and reached out into the darkness.

"I'm here," he said, sounding only inches away and taking my hand.

"Did you hear that?" I whispered, my voice broken with fear.

"Of course he heard it, my child," the voice came again, and it sounded soft and soothing - the sort of voice that you would want to have read you a bedtime story as a child.

"Who's there?" I asked, my voice wavering.

Almost as if in reply to my question, there was a scratching sound, as a match was scraped into life. It flared for a moment, its sudden brightness blinding me in the dark. Then the light winked back and forth as a candle was lit. The flame steadied and in its orange glow, I could see a face staring back at me out of the darkness. It was the eyes that I recognised first - it was the fierce sparkle of blue in them.

"Welcome, Kiera Hudson," said Father Taylor. "You are very welcome in my church."

"What are you doing down here?" I asked, some of my fear ebbing away on realising that it was just the old priest that I'd met on my visit to the graveyard with Luke.

Ignoring my question, he said, "I'm sorry it's so dark down here. Let's see if I can remedy that."

I watched his flame flicker to and fro as he lit several other candles. As light seeped into the crypt, I could see that there were candles on tall silver stands all around him. Father Taylor was seated in a high backed cushioned chair. Although he had lit several of the candles, it wasn't bright enough to penetrate the darkness that surrounded him.

"That's better," he smiled and settled back into his chair.

"What are you doing down here?" I asked again.

"Waiting," he smiled, his drawn cheeks looking even more hollowed than I remembered them to be.

"Waiting for what?" I asked, glancing at Craig in the hope that he might know what the priest was talking about.

"Why for you, of course," Father Taylor smiled again.

Sensing there was something terribly wrong about all of this, I let go of Craig's hand and started to edge backwards towards the tunnel.

"You don't have to be afraid," the priest smiled again, holding out his hand for me to take. "You're in a church. Where could you be safer?"

"Craig, something's wrong here," I whispered into the dark.

"I think he's okay," he whispered back. "He's just an old guy -"

"Tsk, tsk, Sergeant Phillips," the priest grinned. "You haven't explained to her yet why she is here?"

"Craig?" I said my heart beginning to race all over again. "What's he talking about? What haven't you explained to me?"

"I'm sorry, Kiera," Craig said, turning towards me.

"For what?" I asked, now utterly confused.

"He's not really sorry," Father Taylor answered for him.

Looking back at the priest, I watched as he got up from his seat. He wobbled just slightly as if trying to catch his balance. It was then I remembered him limping away from Craig, the day I spied on them both from behind the gravestone. Then, taking a walking cane that he had rested against his chair, he shuffled towards me. My heart skipped a beat and my stomach tightened, for even in the darkness, I knew that the cane belonged to the old man I'd discovered mutilated beyond recognition in the field. Its silver ornate top twinkled in the candlelight.

"It wasn't Murphy," I whispered to myself. "What did you say my dear?" he smiled, edging his way closer towards me. "It was you all along," I gasped, realising the mistake that I'd made. "Get away from me," I hissed, stumbling backwards. "Wait Kiera," Craig said, turning towards me. "For what?" I said, backing into the tunnel. "To see what you could become," he half smiled at me.   "To see what?" I said.

Then something strange happed. Behind Father Taylor I could see shapes. How was that possible? There was only blackness behind him, solid blackness. But somehow I could see into it - through it. It was like I was seeing for the very first time.

You have a gift, I remembered my father telling me. You can see things that other's can't.

Looking into the darkness behind the priest, I could see shapes coming closer. They were people. I blinked and when I looked again it was like flashbulbs popping on and off in the darkness. I was seeing quick blinding flashes of those that were hiding in the blackness all around me. And in each of those snapshots, I saw their white misshapen faces, their dead eyes, and drooling fangs. I was surrounded by vampires.

Then as quickly as they had come, those snapshots were gone and it was like I couldn't see anymore. Dazed and confused by what had just happened, I steadied myself against the mouth of the tunnel. Father Taylor and Craig were coming towards me, the candles that they were holding lighting up there faces like Halloween pumpkins.

Looking at Craig, I said, "I trusted you! I thought you were my friend! You didn't leave those crucifixes because you cared - you just didn't want the vampires to get me before you did!"

Turning, I raced into the tunnel. Within seconds my candle had snuffed out and I ran blindly into the darkness. Behind me, I could hear the sound of running feet and screeching. Snatching a quick look back over my shoulder, there was only blackness again. Facing front, I raced on, my hands stretched out before me as I felt my way out. The sound of racing footsteps and screaming got closer and I pushed on. My lungs felt as if they were ablaze inside me and my heart pounded against my chest.

Faster! I screamed inside my head. Faster!

Adrenaline surged through my whole body, as the sound of those chasing me grew ever nearer. But it wasn't just the sound of feet and shrieking that I could hear echoing through the tunnel behind me - there was a scratching, scuttling noise too, as if some of those that raced after me were crawling along the walls and the ceiling of the tunnel.

Something struck my foot and I fell forward onto the ground. Blindly reaching out with my hands, I felt the first step of the spiral staircase. Realising it was that which had tripped me, I scrambled up them. Trailing my fingers along the wall so as to keep my bearings in the complete darkness, I headed upwards. The sound of feet on the stairs coming after me grew ever closer. My calf muscles throbbed as I tried to leap two of the steps at a time. But I was slowing, and those behind me sensed it and sped up.

Fingers curled around my ankle and yanked me backwards. Spilling forward, I slammed into the stone steps, squeezing the air from my lungs.

"Kiera," I heard Craig whisper from out of the darkness.

Kicking out frantically with my legs, I screamed, but my lungs were still empty and the noise that I made sounded as if I was being strangled. My foot connected with something in the darkness and I heard Craig shriek out in pain and anger. His fingers loosened around my ankle, and seizing my chance, I pulled away and started back up the stairs on my hands and knees.

Feeling my way around the curved wall of the stairwell, my heart raced at the glimmer of light coming from above me. Knowing that it was the church, I made one last desperate surge upwards. As I got nearer to the light, the darkness around me began to fade, and illuminated the true horror of what was behind me.

Looking back over my shoulder, I could see Craig charging up the stairwell, followed by a hoard of frenzied-looking vampires. Some of them ran, but others scurried up the walls like freaky-looking spiders. Their jaws snapping open and closed, spraying the walls with spit and froth which hung from their razor-sharp teeth. I launched myself up the last few steps and bounded into the church. Racing towards the door, I heard the sound of the creatures pouring out of the stairwell behind me. Pews were pushed out of the way and reduced to splinters, the sounds of their screams deafening.

Reaching the church door, I fumbled for the handle. Yanking on it with all my remaining strength, I stumbled out into the graveyard. Looking back over my shoulder, I saw Craig and the vampires appear in the open doorway. I raced away from them. Before I knew what had happened, someone had taken hold of me. Snapping my head round, I looked into the face of Potter. With a cigarette dangling from the corner of his mouth, he smiled and said, "What's the rush?"

I blinked and when I opened my eyes, I saw those snapshot images again, popping on and off like flashbulbs just behind my eyes. But this time they weren't of vampires, but of cigarette ends lying beneath a tree next to the dead body of Henry Blake; glimpses of Potter's mouth as he blew smoke from between his lips.

Then they were gone and Potter was smiling at me as if he knew what I was thinking.

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