Kross's laughter was a harsh, ugly sound as his boot connected with Elara's ribs again. Leo could only watch, paralyzed by a despair so profound it felt like drowning. The situation was hopeless. They were all going to die here.
Fzzt! Fzzt!
Two streaks of black sliced through the dusty air, moving so fast they were barely visible. They were playing cards, impossibly sharp, and they flew from a dark, unfinished room at the edge of the cavernous space. They struck the two vampires holding Mike and Sam in the neck with pinpoint accuracy. There was no gush of blood. The vampires just went rigid, their red eyes widening in shock before their bodies dissolved into a cascade of grey dust.
The suddenness of it broke the spell. Seeing his chance, Leo screamed, "SAM! MIKE! RUN!"
He scrambled forward, grabbing his dazed and bleeding friends and hauling them to their feet. They started running, stumbling away from the center of the room.
The moment Elara saw they were safe, the dam of her restraint broke. A thousand years of fury erupted. As Kross turned in shock to see where the cards had come from, her leg snapped out in a devastating kick that sent him flying through the air, crashing into a pile of steel girders twenty feet away.
The other newly-turned vampire cops started to converge on the escaping boys. Elara became a whirlwind of death. She was no longer holding back. Her bare hands were blurs of motion, shattering bones, crushing throats, and ripping the still-beating hearts from the chests of her enemies. She moved through them with a brutal, terrifying grace, an avenging angel of vengeance reclaiming her territory.
But Kross was not so easily defeated. He roared, launching himself from the girders, and a dark, shadowy mist began to emanate from his body. He kicked her away, his newfound power matching her own. They met in the center of the room, a clash of dark mist and high-speed motion. Their movements were faster than the human eye could follow, the air cracking with the sonic booms of their passage, the sounds of their blows like thunderclaps.
As the epic battle raged behind them, Leo, Mike, and Sam ran for their lives. One of Kross's vampires, quicker than the rest, had broken off from the main fight and was on their tail, its claws scraping on the concrete floor as it gained on them.
"In here!" Leo yelled, spotting a half-finished office with a door still on its hinges. A strange, red light was glowing from within.
They burst into the room and skidded to a halt. There, in the eerie red glow, was the man from outside. The eccentric musician. Leo's mind finally supplied a name, a face from posters and TV. Michael. He was on one knee, calmly picking up black playing cards from the floor, one by one.
"My, my," the man said without looking up, his voice smooth and melodic. "Are you all so rude, running into a gentleman's room while he is doing something important?"
They had no time to question anything. The pursuing vampire crashed into the room behind them, its red eyes locking onto them.
"Go!" Leo screamed, shoving his friends toward a back door. They scrambled out, but before the vampire could follow, the main door slammed shut with a deafening bang, seemingly of its own accord.
The vampire was trapped. It turned, snarling, to face the man in the red suit.
The man stood up, brushing a piece of dust from his sleeve. He held a single black card, the Ace of Spades, between his fingers. A cheeky, impossibly charming smile played on his lips.
"Bye bye," he said, his voice dripping with theatrical flair. "Say hi to Luci for me."
With a flick of his wrist, he threw the card. It didn't flutter; it flew straight and true, slicing through the air with a low hum. It struck the vampire in the center of its chest. The creature looked down, confused, at the card protruding from its sternum. Then, with a final, silent scream, it erupted into a column of black flame and was gone, leaving only the smell of sulfur and a single, unburnt playing card fluttering to the floor.