The Book of Death (Bourbon Kid 4)

in front of him. From nowhere, suddenly the two
of them were only inches apart. Before he could react, Bull’s gun hand was
knocked back against the wall. His nose cracked too, courtesy of a head-butt
from his enemy. His skull crashed back against the wall behind him and his gun
slipped from his grip as his knuckles bashed against the wall. The lightning
speed of the attack dazed him and by the time he’d reacted and attempted to
lunge forward into his attacker, the Bourbon Kid had a hand wrapped tightly
around his throat.
    Bull instinctively shaped to
throw a punch into the Kid’s ribs. But then he spotted a small silver crossbow
pointed at him. The Kid had it in his right hand. He slowly lifted it towards
Bull’s face, stopping just below his nose with a silver dart aimed up his left
nostril.
    Bull had seen weapons of its
kind before. It was a specially designed semiautomatic lightweight crossbow,
the kind that made no noise when fired and could easily be concealed within a
baggy sleeve. A fine weapon to have in the dark, or when trying not to make a
sound.
    And in the face of the man he
saw before him he recognised his father’s killer. The hood pulled over his face
covered much of it in shadow, but he was still easily recognisable. A gravelly
voice from within the hood spoke out.
    ‘How did you get mixed up with
all these vampire cunts?’
    Struggling for air due to the
Kid’s grip on his throat, Bull only just managed to splutter out an answer.
‘Given the choice between them and you, I choose vampires every time.’
    The Kid nodded at the body of
Tex behind him. ‘And now your men are dead. Do you like the way I broke that guy’s
neck? Very symbolic don’tcha think?’
    He eased his grip on Bull’s
neck, allowing him to take in a decent breath of air. After taking in a lungful
Bull responded, all the while eyeing up the crossbow that was aimed up his
nose. ‘You’re fucking scum, man. I did nothing to you,’ he said wheezing.
‘You’re the one that killed my father. It should be me here killing you, not
the other way around. I don’t deserve this.’
    ‘Stop bitching about what you
deserve,’ said the Kid. ‘Tell me where the girl is.’
    Bull glanced over at the
staircase in the middle of the hall. ‘She’s upstairs in one of the rooms. You
should hear a gunshot any minute now. As soon as my buddy in the control room
sees you kill me on his monitors, he’ll waste her. And he won’t think twice
about it. He’s already punched her in the face once today.’
    The Kid raised half a smile.
‘You think by telling me this, I’m not gonna kill you in case your buddy sees
it on a monitor,’ he said.
    ‘Yeah. You’d be a fool to kill
me. He sees you kill me and shedies. Are you willing to take that
risk?’
    The Kid tightened his grip on
Bull’s neck again. ‘Since I just shot down all your cameras, you bet I am.’
    Bull suddenly realised what the
earlier sounds of breaking glass had signified. All three of the CCTV cameras
in the hall had been disabled. ‘What if you missed one?’ he suggested, a hint
of desperation creeping into his voice.
    ‘I never miss.’
    With that remark the Kid thrust
the end of his crossbow further into Bull’s left nostril. He flicked the
trigger. The silver dart flew out and vanished up into Bull’s nose, through the
back of his eye and into his brain. The sharp tip of it pierced through the top
of his skull as it came to a stop, blood spurting out of the top of his head
like a volcano erupting.
    Before allowing Bull’s dead body
to fall he reached over to the light switch and flicked it off again, plunging
the room back into darkness. Confident that the murder had gone unseen he
released his grip on Bull’s throat and allowed his dead body to slide to the
floor.
    Out of sight on a balcony high
above, Jessica the Vampire Queen had watched on with interest. So far,
everything had gone exactly the way she had expected. She had the Kid right
where she wanted him. Now she would finally have her revenge for all the pain
he had inflicted upon vampires she cared about. It was time to put the final
part of her plan into action: executing Beth while he watched.

 
    Forty-Seven

 
    Dan Harker had been parked
across the street from the museum for thirty minutes waiting for William Clay
to call him back. He’d left three messages on Clay’s cell phone and he’d also
tried calling the police station numerous times. But Flake was no longer
answering the