Meanwhile, the other mean and nasty dude, Zoltan Czakvar, zipped down the stairs at vampire speed and positioned himself against the brick wall to the right of the tunnel entrance.

The Russian had insisted earlier on the phone that he would come alone to meet Phineas. Robby and his fellow Vamps suspected a trap, but the question was, where? No doubt the Malcontents realized a group of Vamps would accompany Phineas to Central Park. Did the Malcontents plan to attack in the park, or were they hoping the Vamps would leave their base at Romatech Industries understaffed and vulnerable? Either way, the Vamps knew they had no choice but to divide and protect both Phineas and Romatech.

Robby had asked to go with the group to Central Park, figuring it afforded him the best chance at killing a Malcontent. One wouldn’t be enough, but it was a good start. He made it to the bottom of the stairs and stationed himself to the left of the entrance.

“Yo, Stan,” Phineas called to the Russian. “You paying rent for that tunnel or what?” He drew his sword and affected a gangster voice. “Come out and say hello to my little friend.”

The Russian vampire, dressed in black cargo pants and a black sweatshirt jacket, eased slowly from the tunnel. The hood was pulled over his head, casting his face in shadow, although the icy blue of his eyes glittered as his gaze darted nervously about. He flinched when Zoltan whipped his sword out, the blade gleaming in the moonlight mere inches from the Russian’s shoulder.

Robby followed suit, reaching overhead to draw the claymore from the sheath on his back. When his grip faltered, he grasped the hilt with both hands to keep from dropping the weapon and making a dent in his thick skull. Bugger. He should have brought a lighter weight sword. He lowered the sword and rested the tip on the ground.