The jerky struggling crescendoed until the vampire's heels were banging on the table and its palms squeaked on the wood. It flopped about like a puppet, all flailing, uncoordinated limbs and useless panic. And then it was done and the male stared upward with blank eyes and a lax mouth.
As rain lashed the windows, the Omega swooped the white hood off his head and unclasped his robe. With an elegant toss, he cast the vestment from himself, sending the satin weight sailing across the room. The thing settled upright in the corner, as if draped over a mannequin.
The Omega stretched up, growing long and thin, rubber-man -ing it toward the cheapie chandelier that hung above the table. He grasped its chain at the point where it entered the ceiling, and with a quick yank pulled the fixture free and pitched it into the corner. Unlike the robe, it did not land neatly, but ended its useful life, if it hadn't already, in a tangled heap of broken bulbs and twisted brass arms.
In its place, exposed wires hung like swamp vines from the stained ceiling, dangling over the vampire's body.
"Knife, please," the Omega said.
"Which one?"
"The short bladed."
Mr. D rummaged through the bags, found the right knife, then struggled to bust through a consumer-proof plastic wrapping that was so strong it made him want to stab himself in frustration.
"Enough," the Omega snapped, and held out his hand.
"I can get me some scissors - "
"Give it to me."
The instant the packaging hit the master's shadowy palm, the plastic burned away, curling free of the blade and dropping to the floor in a twisted brown snakeskin.
As the Omega turned to the vampire, he tested the sharpness on his own shadowy forearm, smiling as black oil rose out of the slice he made.
It was like gutting a pig, and it happened just as fast.While thunder prowled around the house as if it were searching for a way to get in, the Omega drew the blade down the center of the male's body from the wound at the guy's throat to his belly button. The smell of blood and meat rose up, winning out over the baby-fresh scent of the master.
"Bring me the capped vase." The Omega pronounced the word vahz, not vase.
Mr. D brought over a blue ceramic jar what he'd found in the housewares section. As it changed hands, he was tempted to point out to the master that it was too soon to remove the heart, because the Omega's blood had to be circulated through the body first. 'Cept then he remembered the male was dead anyway, so what did it matter?
Clearly this was not your everyday induction to the Society.
The Omega took his fingertip and burned open the vampire 's sternum, the smell of bone on fire sending Mr. D's nose to wrinkles. The ribs were then split open by unseen hands at the will of the master and the still heart exposed.
The Omega's translucent palm went in and penetrated the sac around the heart, forming a new nest for the organ. With an expression of annoyance, he plucked the knot of muscle free from its chains of arteries and veins, red blood falling in a stream onto the pale skin of the male's chest.
Mr. D got the vase ready, uncapping it and holding it under the Omega's hand. Flames burst up from the heart, and a stream of ash fell into the vessel.
"Get the buckets," the Omega said.
Mr. D capped the vase and put it in the corner, then went into a bag and pulled out four red Rubbermaid buckets, the kind his mama had called sloppers. He positioned one under each of the vampire's arms and legs as the Omega went around and opened cuts in the wrists and ankles to drain the body of blood. It was amazing how fast the vampire's skin lost its color, moving through the spectrum past white into a bluish gray.
"The serrated knife now."
Mr. D didn't waste his effort on the blade's plastic lockdown. The Omega burned right through the thing, then took the knife and put his free hand down on the table. Curling his fingers into a fist, the master sawed through his own wrist, the sound as sharp as if he were working through aged hardwood. When he was finished, he passed the knife back, picked up his hand, and placed it inside the empty chest.
"Be of good cheer, my son," the Omega whispered as another