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of the ancient monastery could be seen above the trees, lit by orange light flickering off the pale stone.

      Kate had guided them on to a rough trail that wound through the woods. Jamie had given her the stake from his belt, and she carried it before her like a divining rod, her fist clenched tightly around the rubber grip. Larissa was floating above them, her eyes peeled for any sign of movement, as the team walked beneath her. They crossed a large clearing, on which a football pitch had been marked out in lines of fading paint, and then the trees enveloped them again.

      McBride led the way, followed by Jamie and Kate, who were walking side by side, then by Stevenson, and finally by Morris, who had again taken up the rear position.

      “So how old are you?” asked Kate, her voice trembling.

      Jamie could see she was trying to hold herself together. “I’m sixteen,” he replied. “You?”

      “Same,” she said, and grinned at him. “My birthday was last month.”

      “What did you do?”

      “Nothing,” she said. “My dad had to work. But he’s going to take me to the mainland next month. We’re going shopping.”

      Her face creased with pain at the thought of her father, and Jamie’s heart went out to her.

      “I’m sure he’s fine,” he said.

      “So am I,” she replied.

      They walked on in silence for a few minutes, then she spoke again.

      “How did you end up here?” she asked, looking over at him.

      This time he did laugh.

      “That’s a long story,” he replied.

      “We’ve got time.”

      “No,” said Jamie. “We really haven’t. Trust me.”

      They emerged into a round clearing, and McBride held a hand up, bringing them to a halt. Larissa floated down next to Jamie, and eyed Kate with a look of mild suspicion as the team fanned out in a tight line.

      “What’s wrong?” Morris asked.

      McBride glared at him, then held a finger to his lips.

      “Something’s not right,” he whispered. “I don’t—”

      He didn’t finish his sentence. Larissa tipped her head back and sniffed the night air, then gripped Jamie’s arm and turned to him, her eyes wide.

      Vampires flooded into the clearing.

      They emerged from the darkness at the edges, dropped from the overhanging branches. There were twelve of them, male and female; they formed into a loose line in the middle of the clearing, snarling at the Blacklight team.

      Crimson spilled into Larissa’s eyes, and she bared her fangs at the group of vampires. Jamie grabbed at his belt for a UV grenade, and felt only air. There had been no time to visit the armoury before they left; the Operators were carrying only their basic equipment. They raised their weapons, and waited for the vampires to make their move.

      They didn’t have to wait long.

      Alexandru’s followers rushed towards them, snarling and hissing, their fangs gleaming in the silver moonlight. Stevenson was the first to fire; his T-Bone shot slammed into the chest of a man in his thirties wearing a stained yellow T-shirt and ripped khakis, obliterating his heart, and he exploded in a fountain of gore.

      McBride dropped to one knee, and strafed the approaching vampires with his MP5. The bullets tore through them at knee height, sending blood and white shards of bone flying into the air. Three of the vampires fell, and slid across the damp grass, howling in agony.

      The rest kept coming.

      Jamie fired his T-Bone squarely into the chest of a vampire woman. She threw her head back and howled in pain, blood gushing from the round hole the projectile had made, then she exploded, and the howl died with the rest of her.

      Larissa leapt forward and sank her fingers into the eye sockets of two of the onrushing vampires. Blood squirted around her knuckles as she pressed deeper, blinding them with her razor-sharp fingernails. She pulled her hands free, her arms soaked with blood to the elbows, and ducked as Morris and McBride fired in unison. The vampires exploded above her, drenching her in gore. She shook her head, blood flying in thick streaks from her long hair, and then she was moving again, back to her position next to Jamie.

      Stevenson ran forward and hand-staked the three vampires lying on the ground. They twisted and rolled on the grass, their faces contorted with pain, until the Operator put them out of their misery in three splashes of blood.

      The five remaining vampires backed away, hissing. Their numerical advantage was gone, and Jamie saw fear in their red eyes. Adrenaline surged through him and he charged forward, without any idea of what he was going to do. All he knew was that there were vampires to be killed, and he wanted to be the one who did the killing.

      Morris shouted something, but Jamie didn’t hear him. He sprinted across the clearing towards the vampire in the middle of the retreating group, a man in his forties who looked like a roadie for a heavy metal band, a black T-shirt and blue denim vest covering bulging arms that were coated in blue ink.

      Three projectiles shot past him, metal cables trailing behind them, and thudded into a trio of vampires. They exploded as he dodged between them, splattering him with blood. A dark shape swooped over him, and Larissa hauled a vampire girl up into the trees. She came back down in pieces. Larissa reappeared, a blood-soaked nightmare, her red eyes glowing brightly, her teeth bared, and she tore open the severed torso and crushed the heart that was still beating inside it. The pieces of the girl exploded, and suddenly Jamie was running towards the last vampire in the clearing.

      The roadie backed away, buying himself time and distance, then leapt forward. Jamie fired his T-Bone, but the shot went wide, disappearing into the dark trees at the edge of the clearing. He threw the weapon aside, reached for the stake on his belt, and found the loop empty.

       I gave it to Kate.

      The vampire crashed into him at waist height, knocking the air out of him and driving him to the ground. It straddled him, its knees on his elbows, sending pain screaming up his arms. He kicked his legs, but the huge vampire didn’t move an inch. It snarled, a grin on its contorted face, its eyes deep pits of crimson. Behind him he heard his companions winding in their T-Bone projectiles, and realisation hit him.

       I ran too far. By the time they fire again I’ll be dead.

      A dark blur flashed to a halt at the vampire’s shoulder, and Larissa appeared, her wide eyes streaming red, her teeth bared. She reached for the vampire, but it swung an arm like a tree trunk and caught her square on the jaw, sending her flying into the darkness, where she hit something with a sickening crunch. The vampire leant slowly towards him, its mouth peeling back to reveal two enormous fangs, at least an inch long, and then there was a wet crunching noise, and the vampire’s expression changed. A second later it exploded. Jamie shielded his eyes with one of his arms, and then hands were pulling at him, hauling him to a sitting position. He opened his eyes, and found Kate looking down at him, his stake in her hand, her chest rising and falling rapidly.

      “Are you all right?” she asked, breathlessly. “Did it bite you?”

      Jamie shook his head, slowly, and clambered to his feet. The three Blacklight Operators appeared at his shoulder, and McBride spun him round.

      “Did you get bitten?” he demanded. “Tell me the truth.”

      “He didn’t get bitten,” said Kate. “I got it.”

      McBride looked at her with open admiration, and then stepped forward and hugged her. She stood stiffly in his embrace for a few seconds, confusion on her face, then gradually gave in and wrapped her arms around the black-clad man. He broke the hug, and held her by her shoulders.

      “Well done,”

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