Killers of the Dawn (The Saga of Darren Shan, Book 9)
Format: PDF / Kindle (mobi) / ePub
Outnumbered, outsmarted and desperate, the hunters are on the run, pursued by the vampaneze, the police, and an angry mob. With their enemies clamoring for blood, the vampires prepare for a deadly battle. Is this the end for Darren and his allies?
The sly old fox! He must have heard us crawling about up here and was letting us know exactly how things stood in the cell, how many police were present, and where they were. “You’d better watch yourself,” the policeman snapped. “I’ve a good mind to —” “You have no sort of mind at all,” Mr. Crepsley interrupted. “You are a fool. The officer who was here earlier, on the other hand — Matt — struck me as a sensible man. Fetch him and I will confess. Otherwise my lips remain sealed.” The officer
Crepsley had taught me the fundamentals of lock-picking, but I’d never quite got the hang of it. “Here,” he said after a couple of minutes, when he saw I wasn’t getting anywhere. The vampire made quick work of the locks, and seconds later the cuffs and chains were lying in heaps on the floor. I rubbed my freed flesh gratefully, then glanced at Harkat, who was using the hem of his robes to wipe green sweat from his face. “How come they didn’t put handcuffs on you?” I asked. “They did,” he
dried blood from around his stitched together grey face. Like Mr. Crepsley and Vancha, he was nicked in many places after his battle with the vampaneze, but the cuts weren’t serious. “It would be suicide to remain.” “Run, rabbits, run,” Steve murmured, and I cuffed him around the ears again, shutting him up. “I’m not leaving Debbie,” I said. “R.V.’s a crazed killer. I’m not going to abandon her to him.” “What did you do to that maniac to madden him so much?” Vancha asked, peeking down one of
beneath a circular handle. “I wrestled with this for more than an hour,” Vancha said, tapping the row of small lock windows. “Couldn’t make head nor tail of it.” “Let me have a look,” Mr. Crepsley said, stepping forward. “I am not adept at locks such as these, but I have broken into safes before. I may be able to . . .” He trailed off, studied the locks a minute, then cursed foully and kicked the door. “Something wrong?” I asked lightly. “We cannot go this way,” he snapped. “It is too
want him, you’ll have to fight me for him — that bastard’s mine!” I turned to argue with her, saw the fierce glow in her eyes, and relented with a nod. The vampaneze and vampets stopped about ten feet short of us and stood, swinging their weapons, eyes alert, awaiting the order to attack. On the platform, Steve grunted happily, then clapped his hands. Out of the corner of my eye I saw somebody appear in the mouth of the tunnel behind us. Glancing over my shoulder, I realized two people had