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The Vampire Hunter:

Hunting Clarion

by Jp © January 2000

No portion of this text may be used or reproduced in whole or part without the writers expressed written permission.

Disclaimers: Even though these lovely young ladies may remind us of some other lovely ladies and this is just for fun…..in the words of Daffy Duck, ‘they're mine, mine! All mine!'

Other Stuff: A few choice words may pop up, a little grrl on grrl action (sorry, nothing too graphic, I haven't acquired that skill yet), there's a little breaking up to make up, and we are dealing with Vampires and a sword wielding Amazon so be on the look out for a couple buckets o' blood.

By the Ways: Once again I'm putting my landscaping abilities to use, ha! Book I, takes place in my own cryptic version of Washington D.C., so a lot of the places are very real, as to how to get there, I would just use the subway. Book II, takes place in Louisiana, and let's just say Mardi Gras is not conducive to building memory.

Peace & Blessings: Special thank yous to all the encouragement and helpful words of critique that people gave me on my first effort. See, it really works because here I am again. Inspirational bigups to the Food network and the sweet riffs of the late Mr. Stevie Ray Vaughn and Chet Baker. Credits to Michal Salat, his royal badness (Prince), Bugs Bunny, Whoopi Goldberg and whoever else I borrowed chapter titles from.;)

Last Words: You see something you like let me know, you see something I could fix let me know, if you've got a three year old rash and a bone to pick with the establishment don't bother; other than that I'm all ears: [e-mail]

Note: ‘Larieux' is pronounced like La Rue.

Book I:

Prologue

Random Tuesday, 9:59:46p.m. City Street.

The asphalt was nothing but a blur of black as her feet pounded the pavement. Long blonde locks streamed out behind her as she ran. Her chest was burning, her breathing labored. The rush of footfalls from behind alerted her that her attackers were still following. She made a quick turn between two parked cars and skirted down a dark alley. The lack of light did not register to her eyes, as her pupils naturally dilated wide to sweep in the faintest shaft of light. Her legs throbbed and her lungs were begging for rest, but now was not the time. As she drew close to the end of the alley, she saw a 7-foot high fence blocking her escape. She let out a huff of air as she pushed her body into overdrive. She ran at an angle, meeting with the wall of the building to her left. She used the juncture of the fence and the wall as a simple ladder. Her momentum carried her five feet up the wall and then she pushed off the wall with her left foot and somersaulted over the fence.

Her feet touched the ground and she was off again. She didn't have to look behind her to see her shadows leaping over the fence as if they were playing a simple game of leap frog. She laughingly thought that perhaps being a real Vampire did have its perks. She zipped across the moderately busy city street. Dodging rushing cars, she avoided the last minute swerve of a truck, as she leapt in the air and dove over the hood of a parked car, tucking her body and then rolling as she hit the ground. She made a quick decision, and rolled off the curb underneath a car. She lay flat and willed her heart to stop pounding so hard. Even in the dark, she could see her breath as it streamed out of her nose. She watched as six pairs of shoes ran past the car. She listened as they suddenly stopped. She smiled to herself as she listened to their labored breathing. Nice to know they get winded too. They began to speak in their native tongue, as written in the book of Aramis, but she understood them well.

"Where'd she go?" A gruff voice shot out.

"Fuck!" came a labored reply.

"What do we do Xander?" a female voice asked.

A wad of spit was expelled towards one of the parked cars. It landed just under the front tire. "We split up is what. She can't be that far, besides she needs to rest, so she's probably near by." Silver-grey eyes scanned the city street quickly. "Me and Thanos will go to the left. Sala--you and Shrieve will head off to the right. Cain and Micah, you two double back. We'll make the circuit and meet back here in about ten minutes. Give a holler if you find her." Five heads nodded as the trench-coated figures prepared to leave. "And remember, don't kill her, he needs her alive." Again, five heads nodded.

She watched from her hidden position as the feet in front of her dispersed. She counted to 100 and then rolled out from under the car. She stood up and shook off the remainder of spittle that was on her hand, letting out a quiet groan as she wiped the residue on her jeans. She took a mental note of which way the six had gone and ran straight ahead. If she could make it to the park, she might be able to make it to the cemetery, and if she could make it there, she could reach the church. They wouldn't dare follow her there, on account that it was sanctuary, and on the point that they would probably spontaneously combust on crossing the threshold. It was a good plan she decided, as she ran with renewed vigor.

It almost worked.

Xander's lanky frame made it easy for him to hide behind the large oak tree. Thanos squatted by Xander's booted feet and waited. He spoke in a voice barely above a whisper, but Xander picked up his voice none the less. "Are you sure she'll come this way, Xan?" The svelte man did not even cut his eyes towards the man at his feet. He scratched idly at his goatee and looked off into the open field of the park, his eyes allowing him to see further than normal into the dark. "I've been chasing this chick for three months. Trust me, she's heading for the church. She's got nowhere else to go, and sunrise is hours away." A wide grin spread across thin lips, revealing the two hard points of fangs. "Gotcha'." Thanos dared not lean out from his cover, but he could pick up her breathing. She was breathing hard as she zoomed past the row of ancient oaks, oblivious to the two men.

A brief moment of nostalgia hit her as she remembered that tumbling through a pile of leaves was added excitement to family football games on crisp November days. She wished that it was her brother tackling her to the ground, as the air was expelled from her body with a shoulder to her back. Her attackers' momentum sent them sliding for a few feet, until the grass slowed them. Suddenly the weight of the man was removed from her 5'4" frame only to be substituted with a rousing kick to her midsection. Green eyes snapped shut as pain blossomed through her compact frame. She rolled with the kick and tried to get up. She was roughly assisted as Xander grabbed a chunk of blonde hair and pulled her up. She only got a fleeting look into silver-gray eyes as he drove his skull into her face. Her knees buckled involuntarily and she slumped to the ground. She fought hard to stay conscious as her attacker let out a shrill call. There was silence for only a moment, and then she heard an echo of shrill calls reverberating in her skull.

Xander chuckled with amusement as the woman he scooped off the ground continued to struggle. "I've got you this time girlie. No escape tonight." The blonde clawed futilely at the hand in her hair. Soon she was wishing for the sweet certainty of death as her arms were pinned back and fists begin to pummel her body. The beating seemed to last forever. Her muscled frame tried to absorb as many blows as it could, but it soon became too much. Her mind was hazy with the promise of unconsciousness. Her head lolled back onto the shoulder of the man at her back. Xander laughed and licked his lips appreciatively at the expanse of smooth flesh exposed to him. His own pulse twitched as her vein pulsed beneath his lips. Xander looked up to his cohorts with a wicked smile. "You think he'd mind if I took a taste?" Laughter rang out among the six of them until a disembodied voice moved through the clearing. A quiet alto spoke the words, "I'd mind."

Six heads whipped about as they tried to find the owner of the voice. The blonde in Xander's arms picked up her head slightly, searching as well. Xander gripped his charge hard about the arms and bellowed out in English. "Show yourself!"

The deep voice spoke again, this time stronger, and closer. "In time, Xander, but for now, let the girl go."

As the sound of his own name reached his ears, Xander's face glazed over in an expression of recognition. The look was mirrored in the rest of the 5 as well. It was her. He darted his eyes about the bare treetops and began taking small steps with the blonde still in his arms. His brethren begin to spread out as well, taking defensive positions, frantically turning their heads about, looking over their shoulders. "Fuck off Hunter!"

Micah threw a steely brown-eyed gaze towards Xander. "Xander, take the girl, we'll hold her off." Xander, knew it would be his only shot. He cursed in his dead language and spit on the ground, a look of disgust, marring his baby-face. Before he could reply, the Hunter responded.

"You'll never make it, Micah." The words rolled off her lips in a sing-song manner. It was at that, that the blonde managed to open one teary green eye. She wanted to see her, even if it was just for a moment. It was ironic actually, that she was about to be saved by this woman. The woman that her kind avoided at all costs, was going to save her life, and then probably take it in the same moment. As scared as she was, the timbre of the woman's rich contra alto, was calming and surprisingly erotic. Her voice licked at her insides, like a lover whispering sweet nothings in the afterglow. The faintest of smiles crossed the blondes' lips. ‘Nice going, Clarion, you're about to die, and you can only think of sex.' "Leave her be Xander, and I'll make it quick."

"Fuck you Hunter!" Micah growled, bearing his fangs. "Leave, Xander!"

Xander gripped the girl about the waist and turned, intending to make a run. Her body pulled away from him as effortlessly as a feather floating to the ground. There was only a hint of sound as the steel of a blade removed his head from his body. He and the blonde fell away from each other like two crumbling columns. Both falling into a dark slumber that shielded them from the present massacre; only hers would not be permanent. However, she had no need to witness the skill of the woman who had momentarily saved her. She did not need to gaze upon the curtain of blue-black hair that cradled dark features to know it was her. She did not need to take in the six feet of her frame to know it was her. Nor was it necessary for her to look into the fearsome gaze colored indigo to know it was her. In more than 200 years of life, she herself had never actually seen her, but there was no mistake: it was The Vampire Hunter.

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CH 1: An Introduction

Perhaps it was because I was born at the turn of the century. Or maybe it was because my parents consummated their love in one of the Pyramids at Giza. Whatever the case, I have lived for 800 years, and until I am cut down by my own blade I will probably continue to live for 800 more. I was born a girl, Talon Subira in Egypt in the year eleven fifty-nine. My mother was a servant in the court of Al-Adil the ruler of Egypt in its modern golden age. Her forbidden love affair with a soldier from the Crusades produced me. Whether it was the deep blue of my eyes or the strange mark that adorned my back, she knew I was an omen of evil, so she sold me to a childless Japanese farmer and his wife. Upon their death in my first full year of life, I was abandoned to the elements of nature, but I did not perish. I was found on the countryside, by a band of Ronin, and taken in by a middle-aged warrior. A week later when I spoke my first word, calling him mother, he smiled at me and raised my naked form high in the air, baptizing me in the light of the moon. I was reborn Yoshima Miakoda, first born son of Ito Matasuri.

I traveled with my father and my uncles (mataes) until the age of 16, when the time of the Calling came upon me. I became violently ill for several days until I finally exhausted my body and slipped into a coma. During my sleep, while my guardians prayed over my form and administered what medical attention they thought I needed, my mind was invaded by visions. I was assailed by blood filled images of fanged demons, which wore the faces of humans. Just when it seemed I could take no more, the bloody images faded from view and were replaced by an unfamiliar landscape, so real that it was like a map. This map would take me across a continent to Greece where others marked like myself gathered to learn of our fate. In the year twelve twenty-five, I along with seven others, left the confines of our home in Athens, spread out among the continents, and swore to uphold our oaths as protectors of innocents and Vampire killers.

After 800 years, I am one of two that remain from the group that left Athens. At the turn of the century I will be the oldest Hunter still alive and I will be one of the ten Hunters that remain. My kind has been decimated for the last 400 years and I will surely find myself falling upon my own blade, unless I find that which is key to my existence and key to human existence. The Daywalker must be found, or it will be over before it has begun.

------------

With a flourish, the tall dark woman resheathed the Katana in the scabbard at her back, and walked to the limp body of the blonde. She pushed back the length of her coat as she squatted next to the golden head of the girl who lay on her side. With a touch that would have no doubt surprised the blonde girl as gentle, the dark woman rolled the girl onto her back and took in her features. She drew a slender finger down the pale column of a neck as she examined the girl for bites. The dark woman found herself attempting to smile, as she saw no marks on the girls' neck. An unfamiliar emotion of relief swept through her tall frame and for only the second time in 800 years, the woman hesitated in her decision. She faintly caressed the bruised face and willed away her swollen flesh. As angry purple bruises began to fade to a somber red, the blonde girl stirred.

The dark woman pulled back her hand as the girl emitted a soft moan. Reflexively, the blue-eyed warrior shrank back, as thoughts of what to do ran through her head. ‘Just stand up Yoshi. Just stand up and walk away. Just stand up…make sure she gets to the church and then walk away.' Yoshi decided she liked that idea, but before she could stand she was trapped in the jade gaze of the girl at her feet. Yoshi swore that the air was swallowed up around her. She hadn't seen green that color since she, her father, and her mateas came across a jade depository in the hill sides of Kyoto. The green eyed girl stared deep into Yoshi eyes and breathed out the word that the dark woman searched for. The word ‘beautiful' fell from pink lips and then just as quickly her eyelids fluttered closed and she gave in again to the dark. The dark woman raised up on her heels and rocked forward onto her knees. She breathed out the word yes, and drew a hovering hand down the length of the girl's body, never once touching her. She closed her eyes and continued her task. It was the closest the warrior had come to prayer in over a century. As she gently laid her bundle down on the steps of St. Francis, she took one last look at the pale beauty, having no idea it would only be through faith that she would survive what lay ahead.

* * *

CH 2: The Morning After

A pink hand shot out from underneath a striped comforter and knocked the ringing phone to the floor. A small hand blindly explored the hardwood floor until it connected with the fallen phone and dragged it under the comforter. A voice laded with sleep and two octaves lower than normal spoke into the handset.

"Speak."

"Good Lord, Claire, baby that you? You sound like death warmed over and twice reheated."

A light chuckle tickled the ears of the man on the other end. "That's certainly what I feel like."

"Jesus, Claire, you sound like my uncle Louie and he smokes two packs of cigarettes a day and is working on a good case of bronchitis." The sweet lilt to the man's voice made her smile.

"Well, that and the fact that he gargles with glass."

Laughter filled the receiver. "Hey, there's one in every family. Anyway, how ya feeling and when the hell are you bringing your ass to work? You got lucky yesterday, but it's going on 10:30 and Marianna is liv-id." He punctuated the word with the sucking of his teeth.

The bundle of covers moved with a groan. "Marianna's livid because whatever she stuck up her ass has died now, and must be expelled into freedom."

A giggle crackled over the line. "Maybe she's not getting the right thing stuck up her ass."

A groan. "You're a sick man Riley."

Another laugh, followed by the clicking of a tongue. "Queer-yes. Sick-no."

"Yeah, well takes one to no one."

"To be a sicko or a queer?"

"Can't decide."

"Ugh, shut up you shit. Now look, what's up? I need something to tell her highness or she's going to come and hunt you down." He quickly depressed the button on his pen in rapid succession as he listened to her take in a breath.

"Ahh-fuck. Can't you just tell her I died and went to Jerusalem."

He could hear the covers rustle as she kicked inside her cocoon. "Tut, tut, cutie."

She mumbled half into the phone half into her pillow, "Man fuck me."

"Normally, that's not my gig, but for you Claire I'll try anything once."

She growled covering his laugh. "Shut it you freak. Face it Riley, you're a big fat dyke."

He sucked his teeth. "Oh yeah, and you're a Victorian gentleman, standing in a pasture, quite like the- one- in- the- painting -you're -supposed- to- be- restor--ing." His voice reached a melodious tone as he finished his sentence.

She raised a blonde eyebrow at his comment and spoke without thought. "Actually…" she stopped short and smiled to herself.

"Actually what?" He was genuinely curious at her comeback.

"Nada. Uh, 12:30 I'll be there."

"12:30?"

"Yes, Ri."

He snorted. "Clarion Larieux, if your pretty little ass isn't in the lab at 12:30, I am so shoving my foot up your ass."

She laughed. "Just like I like it big daddy."

"Yeesh, nasty image there." He shook his head. "12:30 Larieux."

"Smooches, Riley, and yeah I'll be there."

She hung up before he could say something smart. The mass of blue and white comforter stretched and rippled as Clarion kicked at her covers like a 2 year-old having a tantrum. Finally, a disheveled blonde head appeared from under the comforter. She hung up the phone on its base and she sat up in her bed and rubbed at the grainy deposits in the corners of her eyes. Clarion stretched her arms and yawned and then opened her eyes fully for the second time in two days.

______________

Somewhere in the night, Clarion lost her sleep shirt so she stood topless in front of her bathroom mirror. She blindly swatted at the light switch and physically repelled as the light invaded still sensitive green eyes. She sat down on top of the lid of the toilet and slowly dragged her hands down her face, distorting her features for a brief second. She propped her elbows on her knees and cupped her face in her hands. "Clarion, Clarion what have you gotten yourself into chèr?" The bouncy cadence of a Louisiana accent filled her ears as she stared at her reflection.

Most of the bruises had vanished from her body, leaving almost no evidence of the pummeling she had taken 48 hours ago. A pink crescent shape mark under her right eye was all that remained of the marks to her face. And while her ribs were decidedly still tender, no marks remained. Clarion flexed her muscles, both for the vanity of the action and testing her muscles. She laughed at her antics. "Oh yeah, bubba, you're the next WWF wrestling champ. She chuckled deeply as she thought on the boys she considered her brothers and the impromptu wrestling matches they engaged in when she last lived the Parish. The smile that so easily came to her face disappeared as quickly when she remembered how she had ended up so far away from home. Her thoughts ran heavy in her mind, so much so, that she did not take notice that she was speaking aloud. "I can never apologize enough can I? May God forgive me and may he have mercy on us all. Mercy on us all." Her voice trailed to a whisper as she reached and touched her reflection. She sighed and then let out a groan, slapping her toned thighs with her hands. "Allons ch¾ r, allons!"

* * *

CH 3: What if the Hokey Pokey is really what it's all about

In 800 years Yoshima Miakoda had become the model of human perfection. The fluid black material of her Gi snapped against an imaginary foe as she sliced her katana through the air and ended her drill. Black hair rested between her shoulder blades and cascaded half way down the wide expanse of her back, obscuring her sportsbra. She stood with her arms outstretched and let her head loll back. If anyone else lived out by the abandoned warehouse, they would have seen a woman that looked to be reveling in her own solid physique, that was as defined as it was feminine. She appeared to bathe in the sun that streamed in through the floor to ceiling windowed wall of her loft. The early afternoon sun warmed her olive hued features as its rays played across her muscled form. She stood that way, arms out stretched still holding her sword, head dipped back-- open-- for a long minute of silence. Suddenly the reverent silence was broken by the distinct growl-like texture of John Fogerty. Long black hair whipped itself into a frenzy as the tall woman placed her sword on the stand and bounced her way to the shower adding a rich, yet slightly off-key alto to "Traveling Band."

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The tall woman glided into the back door of the book store so quietly that the blue-haired youngster tapping away at the laptop jumped three feet off of his stool at the sound of his name. The stoic woman cracked a faint smile as she walked around the panting form of the young man.

"For the love of Pete, Yosh, you trying to kill me!" A be-speckled boy no older than 17 turned wide brown eyes on the tall woman.

She ignored his glare as she hung up her jacket and went to pour some tea. "You cannot be a Samurai if you cannot hear." She put just the right amount of sarcasm and condescension in her voice to elicit a smile from the young boy.

"Hey save that grasshopper crap for someone else." He jabbed a stubby finger in the air and snorted with laughter.

"It's true. If you can take the pebble from my hand, you will know all." She held out her hand in front of the stout boy's face until he attempted to swat at it. She laughed moving her hand from his reach. "I see you still got that dirt on your chin." She tapped a tapered finger at the tiny triangle of hair on his chin.

He pouted and turned back to the computer. "Hey, it's a manly look."

She shrugged her shoulders with a chuckle as sipped from her tea. "Whatever you say Nate. Don't see it, but whatever you say." She leaned against the counter and watched the boy type away at the keys. "Hacking again are we?"

"Oh no." He shook his head vigorously. "Two nights in County was more than enough for me, thank you by the way." He curled his lip up at the smirking woman and then smiled as she rolled her eyes.

"Tully up front?"

"Yup."

"Did the new books come in yet?"

Nate didn't look up as he continued typing. "Uh, yeah, Gregor called and he'll have them here by three. And Gregor had a nice expletive filled message to give to you in regards to your uh, how shall I put this…persistent queries."

The usually reserved woman rumbled with laughter. "I like the way you put that. Be back in a few."

She exited the narrow hallway that lead to the front of the store and placed her mug on the counter as she walked to the bookcase. The mahogany colored young man squatting at her feet looked up and shot her a smile.

"Yosh, ‘sup." The boy stood and touched fists with the tall woman.

"Hey Tully. Nate got you out here doing all the hard stuff."

He blew out air. "Whatever, I figure I'd let him sit back there and read his porn until you came in and put him to work." They shared a laugh. "Oh hey," he jabbed his thumb into the air, "that fountain is on the fritz again."

The tall woman nodded and walked off to the right corner of the store that housed a 3 foot high stone carved waterfall. She grabbed her leatherman out of her back pocket and began fiddling with the wires behind the waterfall. "Hey Tully, did the rakes come in?"

"Yeah, I just opened a box."

"Good, cuz, bird man will probably be by today looking for his rake." Tully laughed at the nickname they had given to the eccentric man who came in the store every few days always looking for a new rake for his miniature Japanese garden. After snipping the frayed ends of a loose wire, the waterfall streamed to life once again and Yoshi stood taking in the breadth of the store. She crossed her arms across her chest as she watched Tully stack books and listened to the swift tattoo of Nate on the computer.

Yoshi inherited the store she stood in 10 years ago, when its previous owner died a valiant death aiding her in her cause. She promised him that she would take over the management of the small bookstore and continue to take in strays like he had done for her so many years ago. She breathed deep at the fresh memory of the old man, although it seemed like a lifetime ago. The modest book store specialized in Asian culture and was doing surprisingly well as Japanese philosophy filtered into the American mainstream. Yoshi took a gander at the Koi swimming idly in the window display and let out a satisfied sigh. She grabbed the morning paper and took a seat behind the counter as she awaited the first wave of lunchtime browsers.

She stretched her legs out in one of the cubby holes of the counter top and snapped the paper in the air as she noticed a folded page. She spoke over the newsprint. "Anything interesting going on in the world Tully?" The boy smiled, "check out page six" he retorted. They often played this game. He'd run across something peculiar in the paper and try to see if he beat her to a piece of information. He'd tried twice this week all ready, coming up empty handed with false alarms and old news both times. Third time's the charm.

Booted feet hit the ground with a thud. Brown eyes were patiently awaiting Yoshi's blue-eyed stare. She dropped the paper and stared at Tully. "Nate! In here." The blue-haired boy was by her side like he'd been waiting in the hallway. "Talk." He walked around the counter and Tully joined him by his side.

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