Vampire Agent (English Version)

Chapter 19

Widow

Wide awake, I opened my eyes.
There had been something. A creaking sound.
Too quiet to belong to a human being. I sat up and looked around the moonlit room.
No one here.
But my inner alarm siren continued to blare regardless. Something was wrong.
I got up cautiously and crept light-footedly to the door to listen. It was ajar. I'd certainly locked it after I'd come in yesterday. Had Jonas been here briefly while I was asleep? What a creep.
I couldn't smell or hear anything from here and stepped out into the hallway. But there was no one here either. Nevertheless, I was sure that something was wrong here. I looked around for something useful, but found nothing except a telephone.
Then: a noise from the kitchen. I stopped and listened carefully. Had Jonas sneaked downstairs to have a midnight snack? With a furrowed brow, I went to his room, but I could hear his unmistakable snoring and I could be sure that he wasn't the cause of the noise.
Then I noticed a draught and looked down. After a moment's hesitation, I went to the top step to listen again. I slowly crept down the stairs. I was expecting anything at this point.
Thank God the steps didn't creak and so I was able to discover unnoticed that the front door was open and an uninvited guest was standing in the dining room.
A smelly, uninvited guest.
Instantly, a deep, inhuman growl escaped me.
Blazing hatred filled my chest and I wanted only one thing: Revenge.
My growl had betrayed me and he turned around with his disgusting, filthy grin.
"I was hoping to find you in a deep sleep, it would have been easier to kill you that way," Luke said, pulling out a gun.
"I was hoping not to find you at all, but since you're here already..." I replied, letting the end of the sentence fade into the silence of the night and closing the front door instead.
Then we simply stood opposite each other for a few seconds and stared at each other with hatred. Every muscle tensed, waiting to see who would make the first move.
"Tell me, I heard you were hanged after they blamed you for your partner's death. What was that like?" he mocked quietly.
"Why do you care?" I growled just as quietly.
Then he raised his gun in a flash.BI yanked it to the side and we went into close combat.
Our movements were much faster and more targeted than those of the humans.
I managed to get the upper hand and threw him against the half-open partition between the kitchen and dining room. The coffee machine clattered to the floor as I threw myself against him to hold him down.
I tried to take the gun from him, but he threw his shoulder against me and I landed against the wall with a crash. I felt the glass of the broken picture frames cut into my shoulder muscles as he pressed me against them.
"Fuck you!" I hissed as he pointed the gun at me again. But this time, instead of slapping his hand away, I disarmed him. Everything in me resisted getting closer to him. And the stench emanating from him was really unnaturally disgusting. Nevertheless, I rammed my forearm against his unshaven, dirty chin and then pushed him against the dining room fireplace with my shoulder.
As he crashed against the ledge, he kicked me off my feet and threw me back onto the glass table, which immediately shattered with a deafening crash.
Again, shards cut into my flesh, but I didn't let it bother me and rolled to the side as he hit after me with the poker. I caught hold of the steel frame of the table and threw it against his jaw.
With a crack, Vingate staggered back a few steps. I took advantage of the time, grabbed a side table and smashed it on his shoulder.
With a snarl, he struck at me again with the poker. I managed to dodge in time and kicked him in the pit of the stomach.
He skidded back and fell awkwardly. Then he let out an inhuman growl, which I returned without hesitation.
"You've lost your edge, you wanker," I hissed as I waited for him to scramble to his feet, but he crawled backwards to his gun, which had fallen out of my hand when I'd fallen onto the table.
I tried to yank him back, but he made it to the gun before I did and pointed it at my head.
Again we stared at each other in blind hatred.
I waited for his next move so I could react.
At that moment, Jonas' bedroom door opened and I heard him come out into the corridor.
"Stay in the room, that's my business," I yelled at him, but he didn't move. He looked confused and I didn't understand why he didn't simply go back.
"So, I've lost my edge, have I?" Luke laughed and slowly got up, leaning against the wall.
He was next to the chest of drawers. Right next to the wall to the stairs and he had a clear shot at Jonas.
The flashback gave me a jolt faster than I could react and all I saw was him raising the gun.
Another one of those slow-motion moments.
For a split second, I was unable to think.
I tried to catch myself again. It would take too long to tear his arm away, Jonas wouldn't be able to throw himself to the side fast enough.
Once again, I could see Norman's dead body lying in front of me. I didn't hesitate for a second as I threw myself in front of the barrel at the exact moment he pulled the trigger.
And right, I was just fast enough to catch the bullet.
The cutting sting of a bullet wound was accompanied by something else that I'd only ever had a fleeting acquaintance with.
But this pain was not forgotten.
Silver.
At first, the terrible sting in my chest numbed me, but I refused to accept the paralyzing effect, got hold of the hat stand next to the stairs, threw Luke to the front door the moment he looked at me in surprise and impaled him with the pointed end of the pole.
The small glass pane of the front door shattered under the force of the hat stand that I had misused as a spear. I knew exactly where the heart was and I had hit it, though I knew that wouldn't kill him. At least that bought me a few hours, which I needed. I stared into his dirty, shocked face for a long time until I realized that I was only still standing because I was leaning on the bar with my full weight.
The silver in my shoulder burned immensely and now that the adrenaline was wearing off a little, I couldn't hold myself up for much longer.
With my face contorted in pain, I crouched down on the floor and leaned against the wall, one hand roughly level with the bullet wound to catch the drops of blood before they landed on the floor.
Fuck.
The bullet had to come out.
I heard Jonas come rushing down the stairs
"Widow," he hissed, probably trying to comprehend what had just happened.
There was no mistaking his horror. I looked up strained and a little pissed off. He stared at Luke's impaled body. Then he briefly turned his gaze to me. I moved from my crouched position to my knees.
My muscles were trembling.
The silver had to come out.
Shit, pull yourself together, it's just a question and you have to ask it, I reprimanded myself in my mind when I couldn't get the words I wanted out of my mouth.
Jonas still didn't say anything and was now looking at the vampire hanging on the front door again.
"Jonas." I gasped softly and leaned forward a little as I was breathless with pain, "That was a silver bullet."
I hoped he would come up with the idea of getting it out himself, but he played dumb.
"What about it?" he asked tonelessly.
Was he really going to pull this kindergarten bullshit now?
"Would you be so kind as to take them out before..." I interrupted myself. Did he really want me to beg for it? I clenched my teeth.
"Oh fuck it." I mumbled and straightened up despite the pain.
I'd just get it out myself then.
As always.
But when I tried to go to the stairs, he held me by the shoulder.
"It's okay, sit down, I'll get..." I didn't catch the rest of the sentence.

___________

When I opened my eyes, I was lying on the sofa in the common room, drenched in sweat.
I was confused and looked around. It was daytime and the sun was shining into the room.
One of the windows was tilted. A light breeze was blowing through the gap. It dried the sweat on my forehead and made me relax a little.
I slowly turned onto my side and remembered the recent events through the terrible sting in my shoulder.
I closed my eyes again briefly to think.
What had Jonas done with Vingate?
And how long had I been asleep?
With a groan, I pushed myself up and sat up.
I had slept long enough, I wanted to know what Jonas had done with this vampire.
Staggering, I got up and walked to the door.
Immediately, my shoulder began to throb again.
When I reached the doorway, I had to catch my breath. Those few steps took almost all the strength I had gathered in the meantime.
Then I opened the door and looked out into the bright, empty corridor. I couldn't hear Jonas in the house and closed my eyes for a second.
My head was throbbing and I reached for the gunshot wound out of reflex when I felt the stinging again.
I had to take a look at the damage and contact one of our doctors if necessary. A silver injury wasn't bad if it was treated properly immediately. But after having the bullet for several minutes in my flesh, I couldn't say how bad the poisoning has gotten.
Shivering, I went back to the sofa.
I was wearing an old shirt, not the shirt from the evening. It was made of linen or coarse cotton, as heavy as it was because of my sweat.
But I couldn't tell exactly because I was too busy with the buttons.
I slowly unbuttoned it and looked at the bandage, which had another fresh, red bloodstain on it.
I undid the gauze bandages. The wound itself didn't look good at all. The place where it was located, was not, as it felt, directly in the shoulder. It was between the collarbone and the heart. The veins around the wound looked constricted and slightly discolored.
Poisoning, as I had expected. And not a slight one. I had to call a doctor, I couldn't wait too long. How long had the bullet been in the wound? Depending on the state of the poisoning, I didn't have much time before the paralysis set in.
Silver poisoning started usually with fever, went on with the veins around the wound to became discolored and, in addition to the worsening pain, the first signs of paralysis and muscle cramps appeared after a few hours.
If the blood poisoning had progressed too far, any treatment would be useless. That would be a virtual death sentence. And the way my veins looked, I really had to hurry.
I tried several times to pull myself together to go into the hallway and get the phone I had seen, but my muscles didn't obey when I tried to pull myself together. I leaned back again, resting my head on the backrest and felt more sweat running down my forehead and chest with each passing minute.
I took a shaky breath and closed my eyes.
I had to get up, go to the phone, dial our emergency number and... And to them...
Shit, I realized I was dozing off.
A door opened.
Quick footsteps.
Another door, this time one near me.
Someone was trying to talk to me.
Dazed, I opened my eyes, my gaze fixed on the ceiling. Jonas appeared in my field of vision, his eyes dark with worry.
"Widow... How..." Only fragments of what he said got through to me.BI narrowed my eyes and shook my head as much as I could.
"How do you treat something like that?" I finally understood what he wanted from me, albeit very quietly.
"I... There are doctors," I mumbled.
And there was an anti-toxin. I had ampoules for emergencies. Not here, though.
They were in my apartment.
I frowned slightly.VWhere were we actually?
I couldn't remember where we were and I couldn't remember exactly what had happened.
I tried to straighten my head, but my neck muscles didn't obey me. On the contrary, I tried powerlessly to turn my head, but nothing much happened. That twinge again, this time more consensual than before. My whole chest hurt.
I expelled my breath in pain.
"And where can I find one of those?" he hissed at me as I dozed off again.
"T-telefn," I mumbled, struggling to get my mouth open at all and trying to remember the number. I wasn't at all sure what it was anymore.
"What number?" Jonas asked, "Widow, you... the number...", again only fragments of sentences.
I wanted to tell him the number, I opened my mouth to do it, but I didn't know if I was just thinking about telling him or if I was actually doing it.

Shit.