26

Maria came out from the other side of the shelter.

— Stefan, have you seen them? Hunters of the dead?— she asked the white-haired guy who was satisfying his hunger from one of the bottles brought.

— Some of the blood is from them. They're bastards, and we need to eat. It seems that they will no longer be on the horizon.— the guy took another sip and looked at his ring - the blood splatters on it resembled a spider.

— Have you seen any magicians? I've heard about them, but I can't see them... or maybe I'm just unlucky...— Maria sat down on a rock.— Although I was lucky to meet Bjorn... And many that have been in life...—

— We, the Martenssons, are unique. White as snow, hard as ice. We can't be broken...—Stefan said.— Although I have a weakness: I usually give all of myself to protect my father... All of myself...—

— Like all of us, dear Stefan...—Maria took the bottle from him.— It's still disgusting swill, but at least it saturates a little... To go on a decent hunt with blood full of sugar and cholesterol...—

***

— Done!—Christophe clapped his hands to be noticed.

— Well done.— Olga looked under the hood, inspecting the new engine, as if criticizing a picture.

— Well, that's right, I tried. And now I will listen to my priceless bloodsucker even more often, because the engine is really great!—Jansen sighed.— That's what there is only one nuance: there is almost no gasoline. And I don't carry fuel in my pockets. Something needs to be done.—

— There is no sunlight outside? If not, I can go out and quickly check all the tanks. I'm many seconds faster than the others. Running is my main strength among the few.—Stefan tugged at the laces on his hood.

— Go, there is no sun, it's night outside. —

Stefan quickly flew out of hiding, raising the wind.

From the outside, it seemed that this was more the work of some phenomenal hurricane than an eternally young boy with snow-white hair.

— What are you looking at like that? I'm already here!—Stefan slapped Christophe and Maria on the shoulders from behind.

The girl laughed softly.

— Here! Such is he, my non-blood brother!—Maria smiled.

Stefan had two very large cans of gasoline in his hands and four more ten-liter bottles at his feet.

— Well done, boy...— Christophe took the cans from Stefan and went to fill up the tank.

***

The night has passed. The werewolves slept off for a while, the vampires hid in a box underground, because this strange susceptibility to the sun disappeared with the death of the bloody witch.

Maria lay on her side and stared at the sleeping Bjorn.

The Viking vampire, with the death of his entire nest, began to look more defenseless.

— Stefan...—Maria turned to her non—blood brother.— I can't get to sleep...

— Shall I sing to you, little sister?—the white—haired man asks.

— Well, I don't know...—Maria moved closer to him.— Since we need to rest, then sing...

Stefan's voice gradually filled the entire three—person coffin...

He can sing so that all attention goes to him ...

Maria hugged her creator and, burying herself in the shoulder smelling of snow, plunged into the arms of Morpheus ...

***

Christophe knocked down the coffin lid with his hand.

— Wake up! Faster! They found us!—he spoke much more quickly than usual.

Leaving, Maria looked up. Helicopters were flying in the sky. A siren screamed in the distance, but its sound was deafening.

— Crouch down!—Even the hoarseness had disappeared from Christophe's voice.

Bullets whistled, a couple of them hit the metal of the hull.

The wheels screech, Bjorn notices something hanging in the air, after a while he and Stefan felt what terrible things were hanging on chains that were stretched on helicopters.

UV lamps.

The face began to smoke, the vampires hid under the tarp.

— Ufff! Well, there!—Bjorn runs his hand over his face. The skin smells of smoke, but the wounds are healing.

It was heard that Christophe uncovered the axe, waved it.

Metal whistled. Someone's head flew off, perhaps.

— You will thank me with might and main that I buy a tarpaulin every time!—Olga snorted before reaching for her insanely adored anti-aircraft missile.

The weapon was on the hood and for a view from the front and in the roof there were two small sight windows with a target.

Blinding flashes and loud sounds of gunfire cut through the space.

Olga felt her eyes begin to change.

— Christophe!—The Queen of the north called her guard.—At the next turn, dive behind the buildings and turn on the device that Bjorn collected for us!—

The features of the car gradually began to merge with the surroundings, the colors blurred.

— It works!—Christophe smiled and rolled up the window.

The car disappeared from view.

***

— Has the onyx sarcophagus in the form of a bat been found?— a man in a police uniform addressed the workers.

— Yes, sir... but... here's one mess that came out here...—The man in the orange vest hesitated.— The seal is broken... And the sarcophagus is open... It's been open for a long time, judging by the dust inside...—

The radio fell on the asphalt. An icy feeling of animal fear pricked inside.

— Guy... Guy Cornelius...—

A heart-rending scream rang out from under the torn pavement.

***

Guy Cornelius has been walking the earth among people for a long time and his smell has become so thin, it has almost disappeared already.

Not every vampire will smell it.

On occasion, he walks among them, unknown, unknown to anyone... Joy!

His murders are always so different that even the best cops there have nothing to cling to, because Guy doesn't need all the blood. Basically, he only drinks blood from the heart.

Stupid preferences, but he's not going to change himself. That's how strange he is, this Guy Cornelius.

He is young in appearance, maybe even handsome for some.

Now green eyes are studying the company of evil hunters.

They are going to destroy the vampire and are stocking up on silver... For sure, it's in their blood... So they are inedible.

It's sad, very sad...

Guy takes out a lighter and lights a cigarette, sitting on the roof. The smoke immediately envelops his face in a cloud.

Next to him is the charming companion of this century - a sniper rifle.

There was not even a hint of a shot.

One by one, these stupid creatures fell to the ground, and the cigarette decayed by a little more than a millimeter or two.

Guy smiled.

— I'm coming to you, Bjorn...—

***

Bjorn Martensson grabbed his temples.

— Guy...—He stared fearfully into the darkness with gray-blue eyes.

He felt a shiver, very strong, as if from frost, but Bjorn could not freeze.

— What are you doing?— Maria woke up, it seems.

Yes, it was her voice, her son's voice is much higher.

—I can feel him... Guy...— Bjorn fumbled in the dark with his hand and took his talisman, clutching it to his chest - Stefan's glasses.

Now the guy's eyesight is almost perfect, so he doesn't need glasses.

— I'm afraid...— he embraces the sleeping Stefan, hugs him tightly.— On the one hand the enemies, on the other he... And I'm afraid... I've never been so afraid in my life... —

***

Bjorn remembered how he was turned into a vampire and it became even scarier.

— They broke away!—Olga said triumphantly.— But if they catch up, they'll come off on us and we won't have so much fun!—

Christophe grinned.

— Our engine is just super! I don't think they can catch up with us!—he looked out the window for a second.

Pebbles occasionally make noise under the wheels, as if they are trying to play music clumsily.

An SMS came to the phone number registered under a fake name.

— Oh! Friedrich! Let's hope that everything is all right with our brown-eyed friend!—Christophe's eyes widened for a second.— Gas station! Who goes for gas?—

— It doesn't matter, the gas station is robotic.—Bjorn pulled the hood of his hoodie down over his face.— I'll go.—He took one of his many appliances out of his bag, took cans and bottles.

— We seem to have gasoline.—Olga said.

— But we have a big van, and maybe there will be a moment when there will be no gasoline.—Christoph Jansen said, following with his eyes a dark figure that looked like the ghost of a distant Inquisition.

Bjorn returned and put two large bottles and two cans of gasoline on the floor of the car.

— Now we can go far...— he said.— Can I drive? —

— No, Bjorn... You're all kind of... In general, almost everyone has already noticed this. Can you explain yourself?—Finnish said.

— Guy... He's close... It's a feeling... The feeling when he starts to approach me...— a convulsive sob escaped, a scarlet tear rolled.— I wouldn't like to see him. He... Guy is a gift from the devil...—

— Come here...— Maria hugged the creator.— But you, Bjorn, are a supreme gift... If anything, you'll have protection. You won't be alone now...—

Christophe looked at them in the mirror for a second. The gray-haired Finn sighed heavily and stepped on the gas.