CHAPTER EIGHT

Kyle opened his eyes in a blinding rage. He sensed immediately that he had traveled back to the right time and place, the same city and year in which the despicable Caitlin, Caleb and Sam would be. He should be grateful for that.

But he wasn't.

He was sick of time travel, especially in the wrong direction; he missed his war in New York, and he resented Caitlin more with each trip back. He lay there, so overcome with rage, that he could barely even move. He thought of all the ways he’d take vengeance on her. Killing her, and torturing her, would no longer be enough. Not after this many trips back in time. And killing her beloved, Caleb, and her brother, Sam, wouldn't be enough either. He needed more. He would have to think of an even more inventive way. Like tracking down every one of her friends, any and all distant family members, and killing and torturing them slowly, too.

The thought of it relaxed him, made him even smile just a bit. Yes, maybe he could arrange something like this. He saw himself torturing everyone closest to her, while she was still alive, and in plain view of her. He thought of various ways to kill them—the acid treatment, throwing them into vats of boiling oil, feeding them slowly to sharks—and his smile widened.

He exhaled, finally feeling like himself again. Slowly, everything was becoming right in his world.

He lay in the absolute blackness, comfortable in the stone sarcophagus, and reached into his belt. He was satisfied to see his vial of bubonic plague had made the trip. He was delighted, in fact. He had enough live cultures of the plague around his waist to take out nearly the entire human population of the city, to wreak havoc, single-handedly, on an unimaginable scale. He would create so much human devastation and panic, it would surely bring Caitlin and her crew out, like rats from the sewers. Those pathetic vampires always came running to help when humans need it. It was so easy to bait them out, it was almost laughable.

Kyle liked his new strategy more and more. Why should he waste so much energy hunting her down, tracking her every step, as he had in past trips? This time, he would make her come to him. With enough devastation and chaos, she would be drawn like a magnet to save these pathetic little humans. Then he could capture her unaware, and put an end to her for good.

Plus, he didn't want to risk confrontation again. Her brother, Sam, had thrown him off guard with his shapeshifting, and his own confrontation with Caitlin had left him surprised. They had each grown powerful, as he’d feared they would. Now, they were formidable foes to be reckoned with. He was no longer so certain he could kill them all on his own, in direct conflict—especially with Caleb there, too. And he didn't want to waste energy trying.

Kyle wouldn't take any chances this time. This time, he had a backup plan, a surefire way to kill her, Caleb, and all of them.

He would track down Thor, his old friend, locked up in the Tower of London. Centuries before, the two of them had had quite a grand time torturing humans and rival vampires. It would be great fun to see him again. But more importantly, Thor held the key Kyle was looking for: a special vampire poison.

Centuries before, in the Dark Ages, Kyle had been shocked to watch it in use: it was the only weapon he’d ever seen that killed a vampire effectively. Not only did it kill them, but it made them so sick beforehand, they suffered for hours. Kyle smiled at the thought. It was perfect. He needn't confront Caitlin, or any of them. He need only free Thor, get his vampire poison, and slip it into one of their drinks. It was time, he realized, to fight smart.

Suddenly giddy, Kyle reached up and smashed the stone above him with a single blow of his fist, shattering it to pieces. He jumped out of the sarcophagus, feeling reborn.

He surveyed the room, and saw that he was exactly where he’d hoped: the lower crypt of Guildhall, right in the center of London. Hundreds of feet above him, he knew, sat Guildhall, the meeting place for politicians for centuries. All of those wicked little humans, scurrying around, plotting their devious plots to further their own ambition and power. He hated politicians.

But he knew that they were a necessary evil in spreading greed and corruption. Guildhall, in fact, reminded him very much of City Hall in New York. It was always useful to place a crypt beneath a politician’s lair.

The room had low ceilings and was dimly lit, by only a few torches. He could see the rows of other sarcophagi, and knew they contained the bodies of vampires that had been sleeping here for centuries. The city had caught them and stored them here some time ago, thinking that this vault could hold them in place. And they were right.

What they hadn't counted on, was Kyle coming back in time.

Kyle broke into action, kicking over each and every sarcophagus in his sight. There was the smashing of stone on stone, again and again, and within minutes, the floor was covered in rubble. Dozens of evil-looking vampires slowly sat up, aroused from their centuries-long entrapment. As Kyle finished his destruction, he stood at the center of the room, and looked at the small army of vampires, now facing him. They were clearly grateful—and ready to take whatever orders he gave.

"BROTHERS IN ARMS!" he shouted, in his fiercest voice. "FOLLOW ME!”

There was a moaning, and a roar of excitement behind him, as Kyle turned and headed out the room. Kyle could feel them on his heels, his new loyal gang, and knew they would follow him, and execute whatever orders he wanted. They would be a useful mercenary force. He would send them all throughout the city, use them to create havoc.

For now, though, Kyle had a bone to pick with the politicians. He burst through the stone corridors, running underground through the ancient halls, his small army right behind him, and tore up flights of medieval steps, twisting and turning, flight after flight. He finally reached the upper levels of Guildhall, and with a single kick, he knocked down a huge oak door that had been there for centuries.

He burst into the main room, the medieval grand hall of Guildhall. It was a magnificent room, hundreds of feet long and high, with huge arched ceilings, built with limestone walls five feet thick. The walls and ceiling were covered with statues, gargoyles and biblical images: in one corner sat a huge statue of the mythical giant Gog, while in the other sat a huge statue of the mythical Magog. Kyle loved these mythical demon giants, right from the Bible, the very images of evil themselves. He always wondered why the humans had chosen these images to adorn this place.

But then again, looking at the hundreds of politicians gathered before him, he shouldn't have. These politicians, the most evil type of humankind, held a soft spot in his heart. But at the same time, he hated them with a passion. And now, after his time travel, he had to let his rage out on someone. Moreover, he needed to feed. And these humans were an easy target.

Kyle burst into the room, the vampires behind him, and as he did, the huge congregation of politicians screamed and began fleeing for the doors.

They didn't get very far.

Within moments, Kyle was tearing off their heads left and right, feeding on their throats, and discarding the cadavers. All around him, his small army was doing the same. None of them had drank for centuries, and they all wanted their fill.

Within minutes, the walls and floors were lined with blood. Not one of the humans made it out alive.

When they all finally finished feeding, Kyle turned and faced his now-loyal throng.

"BROTHERS!" he yelled. "You are going to help me spread the plague to every corner of this city. Stop at nothing until you've accomplished your mission," he said, handing out small vials of the plague to each one as he walked through the crowd. "When your mission is over, then you can gorge as much as you wish. But only on my command.” He stopped and surveyed the crowd. "Am I understood?"

The crowd roared back in approval.

He smiled.

Oh, how he had missed London.