Alex Van Helsing The Triumph of Death - By Jason Henderson Page 0,54

don’t you think you could have told me from the start, ‘Hey, Alex, get this, I know your mom, she’s my mentor! She thought I’d be perfect for this gig!’”

“It wasn’t like that….”

“Wasn’t it? You saved my life; that was the first thing you did. I thought maybe you were being nice. But you’re on an assignment, and your assignment was to spy on me.” He looked up at the ceiling, finding carvings so intricate he could barely comprehend them.

“Not to spy on you,” she corrected. “To partner with you. And anyway, isn’t it enough that I did save your life?”

“For my mom and her pals, no less, which is all kinds of troubling,” Alex said. “I mean, when you think of it this way, why not tell the truth up front? Because you wanted to get close to me. Isn’t that it? You wanted me to like you, to feel like I was, I was…special, that we were on this adventure. Together.”

“You are special.”

“Not. Like. That,” Alex spat. Some parishioners looked at him. He lowered his voice. “Do you know what I was before I came to Switzerland, to Glenarvon? I was a stupid kid. I hiked and climbed mountains and my dad told me that the world was one way and all these other things were not a part of it. And then I come here, and suddenly, you know what I am? Special. Very special. I’m a tool, Astrid. A pawn. And you dragged me away from my friends, who like me for being…something else. Something not so special.”

“I don’t think you could avoid being special.”

“Ugh, that’s…” Alex blinked, trying not to look in her eyes. He stood up straight then, and after a moment spoke again. “Look, Astrid. I get that this is your job, even more than the Polidorium is mine. I think maybe that shows me a way that—don’t take this the wrong way—that I don’t want to go. Sangster calls the shots and I don’t—so we’re here, and we’re gonna desecrate a grave, and then we’re gonna stop the bad guys. And after that, I don’t think your assignment of spying on me is gonna be very interesting, because I can’t do this anymore. I’m out.”

He turned around, about to walk dramatically away, but suddenly the church and the lamps and the light outside all went out at once.

CHAPTER 19

A curious humming sound came warbling from the churchyard as Alex and Astrid ran out into what had become a reddish night. Alex swept the surroundings of the hill with his eyes and found none of the sights that had been visible before—down the hill stood no Wembley Stadium or modern structures of any kind. Instead, a vista of distant, fiery darkness surrounded them like a curtain, projecting images of cities and ships ablaze.

“They’re using it again,” Alex shouted as he and Astrid rounded the bend. The vampires had set off the same spell they had used in Secheron, allowing them to create a limited, enclosed night. Seeing it working a second time, he had some idea how terrible a world enveloped in it would be. He nearly ran into a parishioner with gray hair and glasses, who was muttering a name, wandering in the darkness. Alex put his wireless into his ear as he ran and tapped it. “Sangster, where are you?”

There was no answer. Alex heard the burst of gunfire and saw the muzzles of Sangster’s and Armstrong’s Berettas lighting up down the hill, next to a wall. That was when he saw the skull faces of vampires in service of the Queen.

Sangster’s voice sounded in Alex’s ear. “Don’t worry about us. Protect the grave.”

Fifty yards away, Sangster was pinned against a low wall by a vampire in red robes. Armstrong was nearby, atop the wall Sangster was against, and she was kicking at a vampire that stood toe to toe with her. Sangster’s foe leapt up on the short wall not far behind Armstrong, and the vampire had Sangster by the neck. For a moment Alex saw Sangster’s legs leave the ground, struggling. Then there was a series of shots and the vampire exploded over the agent. Alex saw Sangster stand up and look back up the path at him. Armstrong flipped over the wall with her opponent and then there was another explosion of dust. “This way!” Sangster shouted to the other parishioners that were wandering still, screaming. He pointed at the false horizon, which hung in the air and