by Sean Davies
She waited for a moment, hoping that he would come back down, but when Genevieve looked up and saw him opening an iron trapdoor she knew she’d have no such luck.
“I should have stayed drunk,” she sighed to herself as she made her way up the ladder.
Although the overcast night wasn’t especially windy, high up on Fort Dominia’s battlements Genevieve was buffeted by a strong breeze as she hesitantly followed the fearless Werewolf. He came to a halt beside one of the replica ballistae that was facing out towards the front of the building, and Genie gazed out across the peaceful dark fields. However, the tranquil scene was ruined by the brash boisterous laughter from the Golden Fangs hanging out in the courtyard.
“Aren’t these bolt throwers a work of art?” Gaius asked, stroking the large iron bolt head lovingly. “They pack one hell of a punch.”
Genie was shocked, as she’d thought they were only for display, “They really fire?!”
He nodded excitedly. “We had them restored, just in case. Fancy a go?”
“Maybe another time,” Genie smirked, and then noticed her proximity to the edge of the wall. A fearful thought popped into her head. “You’re going to push me, aren’t you?”
“Why would I do that? I don’t feel like scraping your splattered remains off the floor,” Gaius said with an amused smile. He gestured to the world around them. “It’s an amazing view from up here, isn’t it?”
Genevieve slowly turned back around and studied the view, keeping the crafty Werewolf in the corner of her eye as she watched a family of deer plodding into a patch of woodland in the far distance. However, she still flinched when Gaius lightly slapped her back, and even though she didn’t even come close to falling, her heartbeat pounded in her ears as her adrenaline levels skyrocketed.
Gaius laughed hysterically. “I couldn’t resist! You should have seen the look on your face…”
“Arsehole, complete and utter arsehole,” Genevieve wheezed. “I knew you were going to do that!”
“Sorry, sorry.” The Werewolf raised his hands in surrender and wiped the grin off his sturdy face. “Let’s begin small; climb up on the battlements, face towards me, and we’ll go from there.”
She grimaced and pulled herself up on the old stone wall with feline grace, standing as firmly as she could, as one wrong move or careless slip backwards would be the end of her.
“I want you to close your eyes,” Gaius instructed her, “and imagine yourself to be as light as a feather, so light that this bloody breeze could carry you off.”
Genie did as she was told, and fought away her fears as she imagined weightlessness and how it would feel to fly through the night, like a leaf caught in the wind.
Gaius spoke softly. “Now slowly open your eyes, but try to hold onto that feeling.”
She opened her eyes. Her body felt airy and she stood on her tiptoes with her arms outstretched to embrace the sensation. Genevieve saw that Gaius was now standing in the middle of the stone roof, and without waiting for further instruction, she stepped off the stone towards her mentor. Genie glided to the centre of the castle’s roof gracefully, until her amazement overpowered her focus and she stumbled down clumsily in front of Gaius.
“Wow,” she gasped, “that felt so incredible!”
“A good start,” Gaius said. “Try again, but keep your head in the game this time.”
Genevieve nodded and eagerly climbed up the ancient stonework. She repeated the process and managed to glide down flawlessly.
Gaius gave her a congratulatory pat on the shoulder. “Well done. Try a few more times and then we’ll move on.”
Genie mastered the ability quickly, and even began conversing with the Werewolf as gliding became second nature to her.
“What did Seth mean when he asked you to get me swarming?” she said in-between training. “He mentioned before that some Nightclaws can turn into bats?”
“Yeah, some Vampire Nightclaws have an easier time splitting off into a bat-swarm than gliding, but you didn’t seem the type,” Gaius explained.
Genie chuckled. “There’s a type for that?”
“Not exactly,” the Werewolf replied, “but when you’ve trained people for as long as I have you find certain patterns. You’re welcome to try it, if you want.”
She shook her head. “No thanks, I’ll stick with gliding. Your instincts were right.” The thought of becoming a bunch of bats didn’t appeal to her in the slightest.
“Thought so,” he smiled. “Now, let’s conclude this exercise with a little test.”
The head of security strolled over to a gap in the battlements and pointed down. “We’ll begin your shadow-shroud training when you reach the ground.”
Her eyes went wide. “I thought you said I’d die?!”
“When you weren’t prepared.” His yellow eyes glimmered. “Now you shouldn’t have a problem gliding down there and landing in one piece. Although, it is a bit high up here… I’d never jump from higher than this, if I were you. We’re roughly at the maximum safe limit.”
“Thanks, you’re filling me with confidence here, Gaius,” she replied sarcastically.
He climbed up the wall and held a hand out for Genevieve to grasp, pulling her up effortlessly with his impressive strength.
He pointed down at the gate. “Try to land on or near the gate. Remember to stay focused, or-”
“Splat,” Genevieve said, finishing his sentence.
Gaius nodded. “Just keep a level head and you’ll be fine.”
Genevieve looked down and was hit by dizzying vertigo. She shook her head rapidly and cleared her head, taking a long deep breath to psych herself up. Genie imagined that Annabelle was standing beside the large iron gates, waiting for their big reunion, as she launched herself off the battlements. Her stomach curdled as she plummeted down, but Genevieve forced her mind to focus on the gates and her imaginary version of Anna. Then, instead of hurtling directly down, Genie began to glide diagonally towards the gate. She had slowed down considerably, however, she was still travelling too fast to make a decent landing. Genevieve’s feet hit the ground with a sharp thump, and she rolled over several times before coming to a stop against the metal gates.
The Golden Fangs in the courtyard sniggered as Genie groaned in pain, but the sound of their laughter made her jump quickly to her feet and brush herself off, despite the fact her body felt like a pane of broken glass.
Gaius extended his fingers into thick claws and used them to skilfully scale down the front of the building. He jogged towards the gate to meet Genevieve.
“I bodged it…” Genie grumbled.
Gaius ruffled her already dishevelled hair. “Nah, you did great. Now anything other than gliding off the top of a fort will feel like a breeze in comparison.”
Genevieve smirked, and the pain subsided as her body healed the damage from the fall.
“Onto your next lesson, then.” Gaius walked back towards Fort Dominia and gestured for her to follow.
They walked to the side of the fort, and Gaius turned off a few of the spotlights beside the outer wall so that they were standing in darkness.
“Shadow-shrouding is a lot easier than jumping off a tall building,” the Werewolf began, “but a lot harder to master to the fullest.”
“So, I assume I blend in with the darkness somehow?” Genie said, slightly confused.
“For starters,” Gaius replied, “but even a human can hide in shadows. We need to get you to the point where you can take the shadows with you.”
“A shroud made of shadows, makes sense… but sounds pretty advanced,” Genevieve said.
“Pfft,” Gaius shook his head. “Advanced is actually becoming the shadows themselves, but not many Nightclaws can pull that off.”
Genie pulled a face; the ability sounded a lot more difficult than her mentor was letting on. “What do I do?”
“Just stand by the wall in the darkest patch, and focus your mind again,” the Werewolf instructed. “This time, imagin
e that you’re hiding from the whole world. Imagine that you’re completely invisible.”
“Okay…” Genevieve positioned herself in the dark, closed her eyes and thought about fading away into the night. “Is it working?” she whispered.
“See for yourself,” Gaius replied in a pleased tone.
Genie opened her eyes and looked at her hands and arms. They were still there, but they seemed to blur into the darkness around her, and she had to focus to discern their outline. However, as soon as she did, the effect was negated and she remembered that she was supposed to keep her mind on track whilst using special abilities.
“Now, I want you to drop the meditation and command the shadows to do your bidding,” he began. “Look at them, drink in that darkness, and wrap yourself in it.”
Genevieve looked at the dark wall and scrunched up her face in determination. Shadowy tendrils reached out and wove themselves around her limbs. Genie suppressed the urge to gasp and kept her mind focused on what she wanted to happen, and soon she was wrapped in a barely visible black shroud of moving shadows. Just like before, her form was barely visible and bled into her surroundings.
“Good, good, keep that shroud in place,” Gaius said. “Now, I want you to move around the edge of the wall while forcing those shadows along with you, into an area that’s a bit more lit up.”
Genie said nothing as she didn’t want to do anything that might disrupt the effect, and sidestepped slowly along the wall. She reached the border between Fort Dominia’s well-lit exterior and the darkness Gaius had created on part of its old stone walls. Genevieve stood there for a moment in anticipation and then stepped into a patch of dull light, and to her amazement the ability persisted, painting her in the same hazy tones as the wall behind her.
“Remember that if you go too far into the light while wearing a shadow-shroud you’ll stick out like a sore thumb,” the Werewolf advised. “You’re hidden, but you’re not invisible.”
Genevieve stepped into the light. “That was easier than I thought it would be.”
“Don’t get too confident,” Gaius chuckled. “There’s a lot of room for improvement. You’re going to be using these skills under stressful and dangerous conditions. We need to make sure that they’re hardwired in your noggin, so you use them instinctively.”
“I guess I know what I’m doing for the next few nights,” she sighed.
Gaius patted her on the back. “Don’t worry, we’ll hit the bar when we’re done. We work hard and play hard.”
✽ ✽ ✽
Genevieve sat in the passenger seat of Scythe’s dark purple sports car, while the Mage sped down the motorway towards the location of the lumber yard. They were both wearing tactical black clothing, had their hair tied back and tucked into their high collars, and were sitting in an uncomfortably awkward silence.
The nights leading up to the attack passed by quicker than Genevieve had expected. She had continued training with Gaius, attempted to keep up with him at the bar, and crashed in a spare bunk in the ground floor security section. During the day, Genie had either hung out with Chloe or the girls in the brothel, leaving when the prostitutes’ flirting became a little too real, and practised her sword skills in the first-floor training centre. She had tried to gain more proficiency with a pistol but made little progress and soon gave up, switching back to using her throwing knives.
“Look…” Scythe said, breaking the icy silence. “You don’t like me and I don’t like you, but Seth is watching the pair of us so it’s important you do as I say tonight. If you fuck up, it’ll be on my head.”
“Uh huh, got it,” Genie acknowledged meekly. In truth, she planned to do whatever she could to avoid combat.
Scythe pursed her lips and continued the socially uncomfortable drive.
They stopped by the side of a tiny back lane, exited the vehicle, and waited in the dark until the rest of the Golden fangs arrived. Scythe opened her car’s trunk and pulled out a long metal staff before locking it.
Moments later, a large black van pulled up behind Scythe’s sports car and half a dozen Golden Fangs in black attire hopped out. They were carrying a variety of melee weapons and all their guns were equipped with silencers. Scythe gestured to the fields beside them and they quietly fanned out across the countryside. The group’s movements had already been predetermined by Scythe and Gaius around the map table, and Genevieve stuck by the icy Mage’s side just as she’d reluctantly agreed upon back at the fort.
They swept across the dark fields until the lumber yard’s chain link fence came into view. Human Ironthorn security guards were patrolling the perimeter with flashlights, and Scythe issued silent commands to the Golden Fangs so that they came to an immediate halt. They lay flat on the frost-stricken grass and watched the patrol patterns.
“Right, time to prove yourself, new girl,” Scythe whispered. “Take out the next guard who wanders this way and slice us a nice hole in the fence.”
Genevieve’s heart leapt to her throat. “What? Me?!” she asked in disbelief.
“Yes, go, go!” Scythe shooed her towards the yard.
The Vampire groaned and quickly jogged towards the lumber yard’s fence, cloaking herself in shadows before waiting for the guard to wander by. As she crouched on the floor, Genie looked inside at the yard and saw multiple pallets of wood underneath corrugated shelters. Past those was the main warehouse with its loading bay wide open. The whole place had a scattered Ironthorn presence, but nothing that couldn’t be avoided completely, and a new plan formed in Genevieve’s mind. She could get inside the main warehouse, take or ruin whatever the Morriganigh had stashed away inside, and get out without spilling a drop of blood. The tall fence was topped with coiled razor wire, but Genie sprang over it with ease and darted across the yard in a flash of movement. She could almost hear Scythe cursing her.
A human guard walked towards her intended path, so Genevieve clambered up the metal racking of an outside storage unit to avoid detection and held herself there as he plodded along beneath her. When he was out of the way, Genie dropped down without a sound and resumed on her path into the main building.
There were more guards inside the dark warehouse and Genevieve was forced to climb to the top of the tall metal racking and shuffle along the palletised lumber, just beneath the building’s roof, to stay hidden. She saw an office at the far end of the building with a strip of mezzanine flooring outside its long solitary window. Genie carried on moving on her knees and elbows, like an infantryman under fire on the battlefield, towards the back end of the warehouse.
When she reached the end of the metal racking, Genie pulled herself over the edge and positioned herself to hop onto the mezzanine floor. Two guards were chatting nearby, so she forced the surrounding shadows to warp themselves around her form as she leapt onto the metal flooring and landed with a faint tap. Genevieve quickly moved to the window and crouched beneath its ledge. Her plan was to skirt around the mezzanine to the office door, but when she peeked inside, she saw that it wasn’t possible.
A man and woman dressed in dark green trench coats were standing in front of a desk, talking quietly. Genevieve mouthed a silent swear word and wondered what to do next, but then the woman held a finger up to the man and started sniffing the air. She walked over to another desk as Genie ducked out of sight.
The lights in the warehouse pinged on one row at a time and Genevieve looked around wildly, searching for cover.
A crackling static noise echoed through a PA system, followed by a female voice. “There’s an intruder on the mezz’,” it spoke in a flat and uninterested tone. “Vamp, you’ve got five seconds to surrender, starting now.”
Genevieve’s mind raced as she saw the human guards below looking up and readying their pistols. The seconds passed by, and in a surge of reckless panic she threw herself through the office window, just as the first bullets pelted into the wall behind her previous position.
As the shattered glass fell, the woman inside burst into a sav
age Werewolf Brutebeast and swiped its great claws at Genie. The male, a Vampire, shot wisps of fluttering red magic with one hand and sprayed bullets from a sub-machine gun held in the other.
Genevieve’s instincts and great speed allowed her to dodge the attacks, and she positioned the hairy lumbering Brutebeast between herself and the Bloodmage. The enemy Vampire’s attacks thudded into the Werewolf’s thick skin but did nothing to stop its feral onslaught. Thinking fast, Genevieve ducked out the way of the Werewolf’s claws and leapt onto its back, rolling over its furry hide as she drew her Katana. Using her momentum, Genie slashed downwards at the Vampire Bloodmage and cut him from shoulder to groin. Blood sprayed from the wound, and in moments there was nothing left of her adversary but dust. The loss of her comrade enraged the Werewolf further, its yellow eyes flaring with rage, and its powerful attacks tore the office apart as it continued to pursue its nimble prey.
Down below on the warehouse floor, Scythe and the Golden Fangs stormed into the building. The Mage’s iron staff now hosted a curved blade of viciously sharp ice, and Scythe eviscerated the human guards of the Ironthorn Private Security firm mercilessly. The rest of the team executed their weaker foes with the same determined ease they used to fight their way to the office.
The Werewolf Brutebeast kicked out at Genevieve as she dodged its ongoing assault. Catching her off guard, one attack sent Genie sprawling into a row of filing cabinets, denting them and sending paperwork flying everywhere as she hit the floor. Using what was left of her stamina, Genevieve rolled out of the way of the beast’s claws as they hammered down, and she slashed across its chest with her blade. Warm blood splashed her face as the Brutebeast recoiled, and Genie sampled the taste as she composed herself. But the Werewolf was far from finished, and it lunged forward with all its weight. Once again, Genevieve was crushed against the filing cabinets, and as she exhaled in agony the Brutebeast raked across her neck and shoulder. Genevieve gasped as her blood spilled from the deep wounds, but as the Werewolf prepared to finish her off, Genie reached for her throwing knives and launched them all towards the Brutebeast’s face. The blades hit home, and the massive beast slumped to the floor. The body shrunk down into human form, leaving the corpse of a naked woman covered in coiled tribal tattoos, with a face like a pincushion.