"So,
why are you here? We didn't part on the best of terms."
"You
tried to kill the man I love, so no, we didn't."
"I
tried to kill a blood sucking—"
"Got
it," she snapped, cutting him off. "I know what he is. If
you'd ever taken time to get to know him, you might like him."
"He's
one of them, Rafe. I'll never like him."
"We've
been here before." She tried to deflect him. If he went off on
his tirade about Dirk, she wouldn't get a thing out of him but rage.
"I need your help. Me—not him."
"But
he's with you!"
"Enough!
As First Hunter of the Clan, I command you to help me." She
didn't like pulling rank, but felt she had no choice.
Seth
muttered and grumbled, but stopped yelling. "What do you want,
Auntie."
"I
need something that makes light—a lot of it. Not a nuke. I mean,
not that you could get a nuke. Could you?"
He
glared at her. "Auntie, I'm good, but I'm not quite that good.
Although. . . . Never mind. Something that makes light. Let me
think." He did a quick search of his database. Smiling, he got
up, moving to his garage.
"I
think I have just the thing in my lab." He tipped his head
toward the door.
Rafaela
followed him, not too closely. Just because he was being cooperative
and friendly, she didn't trust him. Seth flung open the door, weapon
drawn, scanning the area before proceeding.
"Do
you do that every time you open a door?"
"Don't
you?"
"No.
Because I'm not a fucked up, paranoid freak."
He
shrugged, shaking his head. "I'm not dead yet."
"Neither
am I." She followed him inside.
Seth
led her to a rack of items, none of which she could identify. They
looked rather like odd parts of juicers, food processors and George
Foremen grills. After spotting a stack of flattened boxes, her theory
was confirmed.
"They
don't look like much," Seth admitted. "But I wanted them to
blend in."
"Yeah,
this blends." She reached toward a red, orange and black hybrid
of sundry parts.
"Uh—Don't
touch that, Auntie!"
She
jerked her hand away. "What is it?"
"Something
you don't want to touch?" He raised his eyebrows questioningly.
"Have
you got anything that doesn't look like a junkyard reject?"
"Oh
ye of little faith," he complained. "This."
He
picked up a mirror ball very carefully. He handed it to her gingerly.
"If
you hold the light bomb like this, it's pretty safe."
"Pretty
safe?" she squeaked. "Seth, dammit!" She handed the
ball to him. "Can I have something that's not completely lethal
to me as well as the vamps? The goal is to kill them, not myself."
He
pressed the item back in her hands. "It's not going to do
anything to you, except maybe momentarily blind you—for an hour or
so. . . . You have to be wearing dark glasses when this goes off—or
not be in the same room."
"What
will it do to me?"
"It
could blind you permanently if you're too close or don't have glasses
on. It's roughly equal to a thousand flashbulbs going off at once."
"That's
a whole lotta light."
"Enough
to make anyone in the vicinity think the world was coming to an end."
"Duration?"
"Tests
varied. Mostly, I get a good thirty second blast, give or take a few
seconds."
"Will
it harm me in any other way?"
He
put his arm around her shoulders. "You don't want to be in the
room with it when it goes off. You could be badly burned."
"How
many tests have you made?"
"Only
a few. The stuff is expensive."
"What's
it made out of?"
"Lots
of fancy, technical stuff—a lot of phosphorous, for one. Not like
this job pays big money, ya know?"
Rafaela
nodded. They had money and assets that had been put in place for them
centuries ago, by the early Hunters of the clan. However, at current
prices, especially for weapons, it didn't take long to run a little
low.
"Thank
the gun control people for that."
"Yeah,
it's good that a few of the family have connections. I can usually
get what I need at cost."
"So,
how do I set this? Is there a delay?" She examined the mirror
ball carefully.
©
Dellani Oakes 2017
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