Incubus Dreams   ::   Гамильтон Лорел

Smith let go of the arm. “I can’t do this. This isn’t right.”

“Then get the fuck away from him,” I said, and there was anger in my voice now, because I agreed with Smith. “Zerbrowski.”

“Yeah.” His voice was very careful.

I had the gun on Cooper, and my body had gone quiet, the anger sliding away on the nice white static in my head. “Move.”

He moved. Cooper tried to levitate. I figured he would. I put two shots into the center of his body, and he collapsed back to earth. He hadn’t been able to fly in the church when he was healthy, I hadn’t expected him to get better wounded. He didn’t.

I walked up to him, gun in a two-handed grip, aimed on the center of his forehead. “You’re enjoying this,” he said, and he made a sound in his throat. There was blood on his lips, his blood.

“No,” I said, “I’m really not.”

“Liar,” he said again, and tried to spit blood at my feet, but apparently his jaw hurt too much, and it made him writhe on his knees.

“I don’t want to kill you, Cooper, and I don’t enjoy it.”

He looked up at me, puzzled. “You feel empty inside. I enjoyed killing.”

“Bully for you,” I said, and I knew I should have pulled the trigger, should have ended it. Never let them talk.

“You really don’t enjoy this, do you?” he asked.

“No,” I said, looking into those brown eyes.

“Then how do you stay sane?”

I let all the air ease from my body, as the world narrowed down to the center of his forehead. But I could still see his eyes, so alive, so… real. I answered him, “I don’t know.” I squeezed the trigger, and the impact knocked him backward. He fell on his side, and I moved up on him, gun still held two-handed, because whether he was dead or whether he wasn’t, I wasn’t done.

He had a smallish hole in the middle of his forehead above his surprised eyes. I fired into his forehead until the top of his head exploded in brains and bone. Decapitation was nice, but spilling the brains all over the grass works, too. I switched my aim to his chest, and fired until my gun emptied. Then I got a second clip from my belt, reloaded and fired into his chest until I could see light through his body. Legally I could not carry my vamp executioner kit in the car unless I had a current warrant. I’d left home without a warrant, so my sawed-off shotgun was at home with my stakes and machete. Handguns will do the job, but it takes longer, and it wastes a hell of a lot of ammo.