Free C.O.T.V.H. (Book 3): Extermination by Dustin J. Palmer

she sneered.  “You killed who I wanted you to kill.  I was hiding in the attic just waiting for one of you to walk by so I could snag myself a little trophy,” she laughed even harder then suddenly stopped.  “Say, did you ever find your wife's body?  I'll admit there wasn't much left of her when we were done.  Just a few scraps for the coyotes really."
    "You killed my Mom?!" Jake said, struggling to pull the machete from his belt.  Pearl smacked it away with her hand, knocking it over the landing.
    She leaned her head in closer to Jake's neck and ran her tongue across his cheek.  His body shuddered in disgust.  Her tongue was cold as ice and her breath reeked of rotten flesh.  “Mmmm, you taste just like her!”
    "It was you?"  John said a fire growing in his eyes.  “All this time, Terry, Julia, Billy . . . it was you?”
    "It was me," she smirked.  “Did you like my drawings in your photo albums?  I left them just for you John,” she batted her eyes.
    "Let the boy go,” John said slowly.  “Then you and I will settle up.  Once and for all."
    “No Dad!”  Jake yelled out.  “Don’t do it!  Just get out of here!”
    "Tell me Hunter, where is the old Bishop?  Where is Cort?  I smelled his familiar tobacco tainted stench when you first came in.  It's been years since I've had the pleasure of his company.  Where is he hiding?"
    "Oh he's around," John said, ever so slightly nodding toward the floor below.
    Three rounds from Cort’s M16 smashed into the little girl's head, splattering brain matter across the wall.  She tumbled to the floor her claws slicing across Jake's chest as she went.
    Jake felt liquid fire run throughout his body.  The pain was worse than anything he’d ever imagined.  He just barely hung on to consciousness.  As John ran to his side and pulled him wobbly to his feet, he struggled to get the words out, "Dad . . . Dad!  She's not alone!"
    At that moment the younger vampire dropped from the ceiling onto Cort’s back, her skin smoking from the open door and windows on the first floor.
      John put his arm under and headed toward the stairs.  Pearl was already back on her feet.  The wounds to her head completely healed.  She set her sights solely on John and charged.
    John fired his shotgun one handed.  The slug tore into her shoulder but didn't stop her.  Just before she hit, John shoved his son out of the way and took the full brunt of her attack.
    She slammed into him with the force of a semi, knocking them both down the stairs. His shotgun flew from his grasp over the railing landing out of sight.  Jake fell into the bathroom door knocking it open and landing with his right hand in the bathtub of coagulated blood.  Gritting his teeth he struggled to his feet.  The pain in his chest was absolutely excruciating but he knew his dad and grandpa needed him.  Down below, Cort yelled with rage.
    Whipping The Cleaner from around his shoulder, Jake stumbled down the stairs.  As he reached the bottom he watched his grandpa gain the upper hand on the younger Maker.  Cort thrust his massive Bowie knife deep into Anna's back.  The bloodied tip stuck out through her ribcage, covering her white night gown in blackish blood.
    She struggled, trying in vain to pull it out.  The sun streaming through the open door and windows crisped her skin a dark ashy black.  With a grunt Cort twisted the knife in her back.  She turned spat a mouthful of blood in his face.
    The grizzled old Hunter didn't even blink, he spat a mouthful of chewing tobacco back in her eyes and punched her square in the face with his spiked brass knuckles, then reared back and kicked her through the front door.  She screamed a terrible, agonizing cry of pain as she burst into flames.
    Pearl rose up from behind the couch her mouth covered in blood.  "ANNA!" she screamed in a gut-wrenching plea.  “NO!”
    Jake lifted The Cleaner, took aim and fired.  The gun clicked.  He'd forgotten to eject the