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CLAWS! WHAT CREATURE WAS THIS?
Fast as only a Vampire could move, Weiss attacked, fangs at the ready, leaping forward into a burst of flame.
His scream echoed in his ears as pain tore through him.
This had to be the destroyer! Whatever infernal creature it was, he’d discover later—for now, with a screech of agony, Weiss fled, knowing he had to find shelter, and fast.
He buried himself in the first patch of turned ground he found. As the healing earth and dark soothed his pain, he swore vengeance.
Once he had enough strength to restore himself and identify his attacker.
Also by Georgia Evans
BLOODY GOOD
BLOODY AWFUL
Published by Kensington Publishing Corporation
BLOODY RIGHT
GEORGIA EVANS
Contents
Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Chapter Four
Chapter Five
Chapter Six
Chapter Seven
Chapter Eight
Chapter Nine
Chapter Ten
Chapter Eleven
Chapter Twelve
Chapter Thirteen
Chapter Fourteen
Chapter Fifteen
Chapter Sixteen
Chapter Seventeen
Chapter Eighteen
Chapter Nineteen
Chapter Twenty
Chapter Twenty-One
Chapter Twenty-Two
Chapter Twenty-Three
Chapter Twenty-Four
Chapter Twenty-Five
Chapter Twenty-Six
Chapter Twenty-Seven
Chapter Twenty-Eight
Chapter Twenty-Nine
Chapter Thirty
Chapter Thirty-One
Chapter Thirty-Two
Chapter Thirty-Three
Chapter Thirty-Four
Chapter Thirty-Five
Chapter Thirty-Six
Chapter Thirty-Seven
Chapter Thirty-Eight
Chapter Thirty-Nine
Chapter Forty
Chapter Forty-One
Chapter Forty-Two
Chapter Forty-Three
Chapter Forty-Four
Chapter Forty-Five
Chapter One
Guildford, November 1940
“Something the matter?” Paul Schmidt asked Weiss, looking across his unheated sitting room.
Something the matter? Hans Weiss wanted to spit. He’d say there was. Their masters in Germany were baying for results and blood—he gave a twisted smile at that last thought—and here he was, facing the hardest assignment they’d been given, with the last and feeblest member of their cohort as his only help.
The nagging knowledge that someone or something in the area had the power to annihilate Vampires didn’t add anything but another layer of anxiety to his prospects.
The world was wrong. He’d been the next thing to invincible for five centuries and now he was reduced to serving his petty masters in Adlerroost and watching his fellow Vampires disappear among the accursed peasants. “We need to take action,” he said.
“I wouldn’t argue with that,” Schmidt replied, “but what? Do we have orders?”
“We do.”
Schmidt raised a blond eyebrow. “And?”
“Our masters are changing their plans and our mission.” Weiss paused, as if considering the impermanence of mortals. “With the onset of winter, the invasion is postponed until the spring.”
Schmidt nodded. He’d worked that much out for himself. “So what do they ask of us now? To keep on sowing discontent and unease?”
“That’s a given but, naturally, there is more. The High Command have decided the best way to disable this wretched and stubborn country is to remove the leader.”
“Kill the king? That’s regicide!”
Weiss permitted himself a little smile. “Indeed it is, but the King here counts for nothing. He is a figurehead, a tool for propaganda. They mean the leader: the one who has convinced these Inselaffen, these puny island monkeys, that they are of the fabric of heroes, that their pathetic armed forces will prevail against the might of the entire German war machine, and getting bombed out of their homes is nothing more than a mere inconvenience.”
“Gott!” Schmidt leaned forward, his eyes wide. “You mean Churchill?”
“Yes,” Weiss replied with a nod. “We are to kill Churchill.” And sat back in the lumpy armchair to enjoy Schmidt’s surprise.
He was not disappointed.
Consternation, incredulity, utter amazement, and finally stunned disbelief played across the younger Vampire’s face. “They are insane!” he said at last, shaking his head.
Weiss inclined his head. “Think it would be wise to share that with our masters? Would the Führer welcome your candid opinion? There are how many of your blood kindred in their hands?”
Frustration blocked out Schmidt’s other emotions. “It is close to impossible, even for us,” he replied, shaking his head again. “He’ll be protected, surrounded by police—or the army—at all times.”
“I note you said ‘close to impossible,’ not impossible,” Weiss replied. “Nothing is truly impossible.” Not even learning who or what in that village could destroy a Vampire. “It will not be easy, but it is possible. Attacking in London would be reckless and suicidal. Instead, we will strike when he is less defended.”
“And that will be when?”
Weiss paused. Pathetic really, almost mortal to go for effect, but since he could…“Soon. He frequently spends weekends in the country, at Wharton Lacey with his loyal friends, Sir James and Lady Gregory.”
Schmidt’s jaw dropped in a highly gratifying manner. “The old fool who commands the local Home Guard?”
“The same, although ‘old fool’ might be less than accurate. But fool or not, he is trusted. He and Churchill were at school together. The prime minister takes his secretary and a couple of policemen for protection. Sometimes cabinet ministers and representatives of friendly nations join him.”
“And you know this how?”
Skepticism was to be expected. This had not been part of