Hell's Detective

Chapter Thirteen- Never Trust a Vampire

Ingleseid lowered himself down into the darkness. It was an odd feeling, suspended in midair, unable to see anything above or beneath him. It was like floating on water, you were more aware of the weight of your body, of every small movement, like you were an outsider looking in. When his feet touched solid ground, he unhooked the harness. He heard Holly drop down beside him, then Tatters.

"I can't see a thing," Holly muttered.

Ingleseid dug into his bag, felt around for the torches. He handed them around. Light tore through the edges of the blackness, illuminated the base of a gaping tunnel.

The sound of their footsteps on the stone floor scattered around them, like the trotting of a horse, and light danced across the grooves on the walls, slipping in the cracks.

"You sure this will work?" Holly asked.

"We'll be fine," Ingleseid said. "We have something they want, remember?"

"Yeah, but witches and vampires don't exactly get along."

"I don't think vampires get along with anybody."

"Where are they all?" Tatters asked, shining his torch around.

"I don't know. They should be here."

"Maybe they're all sleeping," he said, sounding hopeful. He shone his torch back in front of them, illuminating a hollow, empty-eyed face.

"Or not," Holly said.

The vampire gave an inhuman screech and scuttled backwards, into a clearing. On the walls and ceiling, vampires crawled on all fours, squished together, blanketing the cave in shivering, scurrying masses. They wore rags over their frail forms, black war paint decorating their faces, so they looked like deformed, fanged clowns. Lifeless eyes fixed on them.

"We want to speak with the vampire king," Ingleseid said loudly. Chatter moved throughout them like a wave. The vampires closest to them parted, and a tall woman with matted hair, like the hair on a neglected doll, and wrinkled skin clinging desperately to her bones stepped forward. A necklace of human teeth hung down to her midsection.

Ingleseid held out his hand. "Pleased to meet you. I'm Ingleseid."

She stared at it like she wasn't entirely sure whether or not to tear it off. He withdrew it slowly.

She sniffed at the air, then snarled at Holly.

"Witch," she hissed. Her voice was cracked and under-used, like the groan of a tractor starting up.

"Bite me."

"It's fine. She's a friend," Ingleseid cut in before Holly could say anything else.

"Friends? We are not friends, human."

"I thought you might say that," Ingleseid said cheerfully. "So I brought a little incentive." Tatters and Holly pulled the chilli bins out of the bags. Holly kicked the lid off one off them, revealing the crimson blood sitting inside.

"I imagine supply's short all the way up here. It's human, just drawn a day ago. Kept cool ever since," Holly said.

"Give it to me!" the king screeched. She lunged at her, but Ingleseid stepped in her path. She snarled at him.

"Ah-ah. Sorry, no freebies," he said. "We need something of yours."

"What? Tell me!" she demanded, eyes never leaving the chilly bins. Around her, the vampires licked their lips hungrily, eyes filling with red as the reflection flickered over them.

"Your tooth."

She stared at him.

"It's not like you need it," Holly pointed out. "And you'll just grow another one. We, on the other hand, are in desperate need of a tooth from a king of vampires. You give it to us, and we'll give you the blood."