The Ouroboros Cycle, Book Two: A Cautionary Tale for Young Vampires. G.D. Falksen
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The giant’s blow must have fractured her skull.
How irritating, she thought as she picked herself up. No matter. It would heal.
Across the room, Ekaterine was busy managing the other three men, which mostly consisted of tripping them up or throwing one into another. They fought hard, inflicting clumsy blows where they could, but Ekaterine bobbed and weaved and deflected with startling grace, and she received but a few hits in reply to her own.
The giant was another matter. Even Varanus, with her inhuman strength, could hardly throw him about like a man of common stature. Still, he did not expect her to attack again, having given her what ought to have been a killing blow. That she could use to her advantage.
Varanus ran after the giant and kicked his ankle, tripping him and sending him to one knee.
“’Ere, what?” he shouted, twisting about. He caught sight of Varanus, and the blood drained away from his face. “’Ow, by God…?”
Varanus did not waste the opportunity. She ran at him and planted her foot firmly atop his knee. Using the man’s bent leg as a step, she leapt up and grabbed him by the head, pulling it downward as she brought her knee up to meet it. She struck the man squarely in the face. The giant fell backward, bleeding from his nose and eyes.
Landing on the balls of her feet, Varanus hurried forward and knelt upon the giant’s chest. She pounded her fists into his face as he tried to rise and kept punching until he finally gave up struggling.
Varanus stood and looked toward Ekaterine in time to see her strike the heads of two of the ruffians against one another. The men fell senseless, soon to die. The last one let out a cry of fright and ran for the door. Swearing loudly, Ekaterine hiked up her skirts and chased after him.
“Well,” Varanus said, looking down at the giant, “it seems you will not be murdering my patient tonight. Too bad for you.”
The giant struggled to rise, grabbing at her with his hands. Varanus swatted him away and placed on foot upon his throat.
“No, no,” she said. “I have won. Be a proper man and accept defeat with dignity. Now then, I have some questions for you.”
“Go ta ’ell,” came the reply.
Varanus applied more pressure with her foot to make a point before easing off enough to allow conversation.
“Ain’t possible…” the giant said. “Should be dead.”
“But I am not, and you must think of the future,” Varanus said. “Surely you have no wish to die.”
“The Boss’ll ’ave you for this.” The giant leered at her.
This caught Varanus’s attention and she asked, “So, you’re not alone, is that it?”
“Rest’a the boys ’ill kill ya for this. Give you a sound thrashin’ an’ cut yer—”
Varanus applied a little more pressure to interrupt the statement.
“No vulgar language in my surgery, thank you,” she said.
Korbinian joined her and gave her a gentle kiss on the lips. Looking down at the giant, he said:
“I wonder where this boss fellow is.”
“That’s a very good question,” Varanus said, smiling at Korbinian. She looked down at the giant and asked, “Where is your boss? The rest of your gang? Where are they?”
“Not sayin’ nuthin’.”
Varanus applied a little more pressure. As she did so, Ekaterine walked back in carrying the corpse of the last ruffian. It would seem she had run him to ground and dispatched him.
I hope none of the neighbors saw, Varanus thought.
“A’right! A’right!” cried the giant. “I’ll talk!”
Varanus looked down at him and lifted her foot.
“Who is your boss?” she asked.
“Mister Jones!” the giant answered.
“And where can I find him?”
“The Ol’ Jago Pub down Parrott Street!”
Varanus leaned down and smiled.
“Much obliged,” she said, and pressed down hard with her boot, crushing the giant’s windpipe in a single stomp.
* * * *
With the ruffians all dead, Varanus put her hands on her hips and surveyed the damage. Thankfully, there was very little of it, though one of the chairs would need replacing.
Varanus placed a hand on Ekaterine’s shoulder and said, “Marvelous, if I do say so.”
“These three were nothing,” Ekaterine said, tossing her hair. “The big fellow, though.… That was impressive.”
“Yes,” Varanus said, looking down at the giant’s corpse. “I think I should like to keep him for study.”
Ekaterine sighed and looked at her.
“This is when I hide the bodies, isn’t it?” she asked.
“Well, I have a patient to attend to,” Varanus said. “And, much as it pains me to say so, I fear that I shall have to take her to the London Hospital. I can’t very well treat her with dead bodies strewn about the place, and I dread to think what would happen if any more of the gang were to show up.”
“Yes, we’d have to hide the poor girl in the cupboard again,” Ekaterine said, “and I’m certain she would become cross with us.”
Varanus shook her head and said, “You’re right, of course. Her being cross with us is foremost in my mind.”
Ekaterine motioned to the bodies.
“What would you like me to do with all of them?” she asked. “I mean, we can hardly dump them in the street now can we? Someone might look into it.”
Korbinian appeared behind Varanus and whispered in her ear, “Waste not, want not.”
At his prompting, the idea came to Varanus in a flash.
“Put them in the cellar for now,” she said. “I’ve been itching to do a dissection for months.”
“Grand idea,” Ekaterine agreed.
She took one of the corpses by the arm and hauled it up over her shoulders, carrying it like a man might carry a sack of potatoes. She was strong enough to manage, but only just. It was not nearly as effortless as it would have been for Varanus.
“Shall I…?” Varanus began, reaching out to help her.
Ekaterine released one hand long enough to wave Varanus away.
“Nonsense, I can manage,” she said. “Your patient, remember?”
“Yes, of course,” Varanus said. She turned toward the back of the clinic.
“Oh, a moment,” Ekaterine called. She motioned to the side of Varanus’s face where the giant had struck her. “Best clean up first.”
Varanus touched her temple and felt drying blood. The injury had healed—her flesh was smooth, her skull solid, her vision clear—but the blood remained. She hurried to the washbasin by one of the tables and cleaned her face.
With the signs of violence removed, she went to the back of the clinic and knocked on the door to the storeroom. “Sally!” she called. “It’s Doctor Sauvage. Are you in there?”
There was a lengthy silence before Sally could be heard, speaking faintly:
“Is it safe?”
“Yes, it’s safe now,” Varanus answered. “The men have left.”
“Left?” Sally asked hesitantly. She did not sound