Dawn of Vengeance

Chapter 35 - Best Efforts

Jake's POV:

Looking at both Rex and Andrew, Jake could tell that he was by far the least experienced of the three of them. And what was worse was that it appeared that Stark knew it two because he hadn't even bothered to watch him, but rather her looked at the other two like they were his only opponents. He doesn't even consider me a threat, Jake thought looking at the tall vampire quietly assessing his chances without so much as a weapon. He didn't like what he was coming up with, charging at Stark with nothing but his silver pocket knife was bordering on suicidal, but then again that was all he'd been doing lately. Making suicidal decisions and picking fights with Beings that were way beyond his ability to handle. Oh why hadn't he listened to Father Matthew before when he told him to let the Saints take care of this, she might still be alive if he'd stayed out of all this.

Sister Mary was dead because of his bullheaded decision to take on this case. And as if to make matters worse he'd gotten Lance and even Eve mixed up in this just because he wanted to prove to Matthew that he wasn't a lost cause like Andrew and Wallace had said. He wanted to prove that he wasn't just some kid who needed Father Matthew to come in and rescue him if he got in trouble. But none of that happened; the only thing Jake accomplished thus far was forming a shaky alliance with a vampire whose only motivation for working with him was a disliking for Stark. And even he was of no use because Jake had been impatient and let him back on Aeria when he'd come after Father Matthew.

Now he was facing down quite possibly the worst threat that the Saint Shields had ever come across in some time. Stark stood tall over all other vampires in every way that Jake could think of, in speed, strength, and experience. What hope did he have against adversary such as he, he who didn't fear the strength of a Gargoyle, he who managed to command a horde of ruthless Strigoi with strength alone. What did Jake have, a pocket knife? He might as well fight Stark with his bare fists for all the good they'd do him. He'd fought with Stark on more than one occasion and every time the vampire picked him apart as easily as if he were tearing apart a blade of grass. There was nothing he could do against him, absolutely nothing!

Stark must have seen the doubt in Jake's eyes because a smirk formed across his lips and he seemed to stand a little taller as if the knowledge of Jake's submission gave him even more power. But that didn't stop the two at Jake's side. Both Andrew and Rex charged at Stark drawing weapons from who knows where while Jake watched in frozen despair. Rex went low with his sword while Andrew went high with his saw bladed machete. Stark jumped over both blades with hardly any effort where he latched onto the grated platform above before he ripped the grating right off and falling to the walkway below. Stark held the chunk of metal in front of him as the two pale boys rained down blows upon him, their swords glancing off the metal mesh with harsh clangs of metal on metal.

Jake watched as the two of them kept hacking away at Stark who was dancing around the two of them like they were children swinging sticks at him. He was toying with the two of them. They were far more experienced at dispensing with vampires than Jake was and he had no doubt that they were far better at it than he was as well. Yet here and now Stark was fending them both off with a smile on his face. Even when Rex slid through Stark's legs and the two of them attacked from either side the vampire still appeared to be having fun with them. He wasn't even trying to hit back, he was just blocking and avoiding their blades with the grace of a dancer preforming on stage.

They don't have a chance against him; Jake thought taking a step back and feeling something sharp poking at his leg. His attention was off the fight for a moment as he reached into his pocket to see what had just stabbed his thigh and what he pulled out made his blood turn to ice. It was the silver cross that Father Matthew had always worn around his neck. He never took this off, yet Jake had found it lying on the ground near the boat landing with all of the prayer beads missing and the chain that held them broken near the middle. That was when it hit him; Father Matthew wouldn't take this off for any reason so that only meant one thing.