by Justin Sloan
Valerie and Robin turned to each other with wide eyes.
“We gotta stop them from killing everyone,” Robin said, and then she led the charge down to the pirate camp.
CHAPTER THREE
Pirate Outpost
They hadn’t meant for the fight to break out so fast, but Cammie blamed Royland. Her thought was that they get in there, keep a low profile as they see what they’re dealing with, and then take them out.
She had, apparently, not communicated this so well. Communication over when and how to kill—her new relationship issue to figure out.
He had gone charging straight into the nearest group of them, not hearing, or maybe ignoring, Cammie’s hisses of, “Wait! Not like that!”
It wasn’t that she was worried for his life or anything like that, but this could cause panic, and that’s not what they wanted. Half the pirates who had seen them were fleeing to the nearest blimp, the other half pulling strange looking pistols and rifles on them, a couple even with cutlasses.
Royland was, as ever, an impressive blur of manliness. The first pirate got a shot off, but then was hurtling through the air only to have his head explode as it collided with one of the structures, knocking the wall over.
The next pirate’s throat was simply ripped out, and yet another’s own cutlass lodged into his skull.
Three female pirates charged out of a side building, so Cammie turned to do her part against them. Since she wanted at least someone alive after this, she pulled out her kali sticks but left the wooden sheathes on, so they didn’t become the short swords she was growing used to using.
As she charged, the first turned on her and fired—Cammie dodged, but then saw it wasn’t a bullet or even a projectile, but a metal net. She rolled aside, just barely making it out of the way in time, only to be hit by a crossbow bolt in the thigh!
“Tarbaby-eating mother fuckers!” Cammie shouted, pulling the crossbow bolt from her leg. She would heal, but her anger was flaring to the point that it would soon be hard to stick to her ideal of keeping someone alive.
Tossing the bolt aside, she hobble-ran the rest of the way, her leg already feeling better by the time she reached them.
From there, it was thump after thump as she taught the net-shooter a lesson. Her stick smacked across the woman’s blood-soaked forehead, and then the woman collapsed as another reached them—Cammie’s enhanced strength and speed meant those blows flew fast and hard.
The second woman had an odd contraption on her arm that, when she punched, sent a series of darts out a split-second before the punch landed. It was large, made of a reddish metal, and was distracting enough to allow the woman to land the punch.
Cammie reacted by twisting one of her kali sticks around the offending arm, and turning so that her assailant ended up with her arm bent up behind her in an arm-bar. With an extended motion, Cammie pulled back her leg and brought her knee into the pirate’s face. The force brought blood, spewing everywhere, and the pirate dropped to the ground.
Two men joined the fight now, and Cammie glanced over to see Royland with scattered bodies around him, the rest in full retreat for the blimp. To her annoyance, she saw that the blimp was starting to lift off. Pirates climbed ropes trailing over the side to get aboard.
Her muscles were slow to react when she tried to take a step toward him, and when a two-by-four hit her upside the head, she stumbled over, and fell.
What the hell was in those darts?
She knew that her Were abilities would fight it off soon, but when she turned at a shadow that fell over her, a boot connected with her face.
Damn, that hurt.
This time, she pushed through the poison, removing the darts, and then threw herself at the next attackers, no longer caring if she left any alive. At least, not in that moment as she tore through the pirate’s shirt with her claws and drew blood.
These sons of bitches wanted to play rough? Bring poison into the mix? Well, then they deserved this. Shaking her head to clear it from the fog, she blocked a cutlass attack with one of her kali sticks.
With a growl and a gut check to pull on her energy, she caught the man with the sword by the legs, tackling him to the ground. Then she shimmied up his body, ignoring the crossbow bolt that hit her in the side, and then flicked off the wood cover of her stick to cut through the sides of his neck.
He screamed, but she shouted back, “It’ll be easier this way!” Then, with a snarl as more poison darts hit her along with a punch to the side of her face, she grabbed ahold of his head and lurched to the side, twisting as she did so and using all of her Were strength to pull.
The head resisted, then, with a pop, came free.
Another punch hit her, and she fell, head clutched in her hands.
“The fuck’s wrong with you?” one of the pirates said, pointing what looked like a shotgun into her face.
In a blur, the pirate was gone. Two more fell dead nearby, and then Royland was at her side a moment later, helping her to stand.
“I’m fine!” she said. “Stop the blimp!”
He nodded at the headless man and said, “They’re right, that was nasty.”
She smiled and then pointed at the blimp.
“Yeah, yeah,” he rolled his eyes as he turned from her, “stop the blimp.”
She took a wobbling step, nearly tumbled over, and then pushed through the pain and exhaustion that came with the poison, wishing her healing powers would kick in faster.
At least Royland was still in good condition, charging forward faster than the pirates could see. He took down another two, tossing them behind so that they were still shaking in their final moments of death as Cammie passed them in her attempt to catch up.
The poison was nearly gone when she saw Royland reach the first rope, but then she sniffed and cursed—more pirates behind her.
She spun and caught the first punch, this time pushing up the gloved hand before the darts could hit her. Another came at her and she broke the offending arm, then used it to punch the pirates companion. Darts flew out and, a moment later, the second pirate was writhing in pain, froth coming out of his mouth.
“Damn,” Cammie said. “I’m sure glad I’m not you.”
Her smile faded as a clunking sound came from nearby, then metal ropes of a net fell over her and she was pulled to the ground as it cinched around her feet. More blows came, and then one of the pirates turned and shot something that sent a rope to the second, still grounded ship, and she watched in horror as he attached it to her feet.
“Oh no you don’t,” she said as she pushed against the net, but the pirate simply smiled and pressed a button on the device. A second later, she was whisked away, the rope retracting, pulled along the ground in a way that seemed to be purposely slamming her into each rock. It was only then that she realized the second ship was starting to take off now, too, and as it did, she was lifted off the ground and pulled up right alongside it.
She twisted as best she could, weighing her options as the ground disappeared beneath her. Holy crap, she realized as she saw the other blimp start to go down.
Not only would she never live this down—her getting captured while he succeeded—but she had now been captured a second time. If she didn’t break out, and soon, she would have to be rescued.
Dammit, she hated having to be rescued.
And to make it worse, her cowboy hat had fallen off somewhere during the fighting. Her swords were still on her, though, so she pulled one free and tried taking it to the metal ropes. Nope, that wasn’t doing any good.
“Royland!” she shouted, and a moment later saw him appear on the blimp beside them. He saw what was happening, apparently, and ran to the edge of his blimp as a rope went by, then leaped…
…and missed.
She tried to turn to see what happened, but the ropes had her in a position that made moving anymore impossible. Shouting, she pushed, shoving and squirming in spite of the metal tearing into her flesh.
It wasn’t tha
t she was so terrified or feeling helpless, it was that she wanted to make enough noise to not hear a thud or screams of pain. Not from him.
“FUCCCKKK!” she screamed, and then paused, interested in another set of gunshots sounding in the distance.
What the hell were they shooting at? She breathed, forcing herself to be calm, and watched as two figures in the pink glow of sunrise cut through pirates. Swords flashed as the sunlight came over the hills, and she saw that one was all in black.
Like the assassins that had come after Valerie. She couldn’t make out the other, but was pretty sure that this wasn’t a good sign.
The sunlight on the swords meant something even worse, though. If Royland was hurt down there, unable to defend himself and pull himself to shelter, the sun would soon reach him, and take him from this world.
Finally, for probably the first time she could remember, a tear welled up in her left eye. When she had wiped it away, she gritted her teeth and said, “Wo-man up, girl,” and renewed her struggles to break free.
This wasn’t about to happen. She wasn’t going to let some pirate pricks dictate how and when Royland left her, and she certainly wasn’t going to be tied up in the air while he screamed in agony.
She would break free and save his ass, or die trying.
***
The moment the shooting had started, Valerie and Robin had given up all hope of staying concealed. Instead, they had charged the pirates, though staying at a run only slightly faster than normal humans, so that Robin wouldn’t lose her strength.
Screams sounded and it was clear someone was in trouble, so the last twenty feet Valerie had sped through like nothing, pulling her sword free and cutting through the first group of pirates before they knew what was coming.
Surprisingly, the majority of them were scrambling onto the ships, though some had just appeared in a nearby building and were firing pistols and one rifle at her.
Instead of bothering to duck and hide, she ran at them, careful to avoid the bullets and the unnecessary pain they brought with them. Even with the Dark Messiah’s blood flowing through her and giving her greater powers than she had known possible, she still hated pain.
That’s why, when one of the bullets hit her, she pushed out with fear to such an extent that she heard bowels letting loose and the accompanied swearing before she was on them, sword swinging and wishing she didn’t have such a strong sense of smell.
Others were running now, and she looked back to see the sun touching Robin, where the younger woman took on three pirates by herself.
If only one of them cut through Robin’s clothes and exposed her to the sunlight, it would be a very bad day for everyone involved.
Luckily for them, Robin was a trained assassin and damn skilled with a sword, and her clothing was more like body armor in the places that mattered.
She turned back to the blimps, confident that Robin could handle herself, and watched as one rose while the other was in its descent. What the hell was going on here? She charged forward, then noticed a group of pirates sliding down from ropes attached to the descending blimp, converging on a form on the ground.
It appeared to be a man, struggling to stand, but as he got to his knees, one of the pirates shot him and he fell back.
A scent carried in the wind and she froze. Not only was it a vampire, but she had smelled this vampire before. It wasn’t strong enough that she knew who it was, but there was no question in her mind that this assault had to be stopped.
Even if she hadn’t known him, he was being attacked by pirates. So, maybe he wasn’t so bad.
She reached to the pistol at her hip as she stepped forward, sword at the ready, and said, “Hey, spineless shit-stains, you want some?”
The closer pirates turned to her with smiles on their faces that quickly vanished as they saw her eyes glowing red. She smiled to reveal her fangs, long and sharp, and then charged.
Her pistol tore into them, her sword finishing them off.
They didn’t stand a chance and, as she brought her sword up and through the last of them, she stood in a circle of decapitated bodies.
Her eyes fell across them all, wishing she had at least had the chance to interrogate them, and then she saw their victim.
“Royland?” she asked in disbelief.
He had a hole in his cheek, limbs apparently broken, and seemed barely able to turn his head, but he saw her and mumbled something.
“What is it?” she knelt next to him and took a vial of blood from her jacket, then forced it down his throat while holding the hole in his cheek shut, so that it wouldn’t spill.
When he had his fill, his finger twitched, then moved again, and finally he was able to lift it to point to the blimp that was still rising.
“Something’s on the blimp?”
His mouth moved and there was no question what he was trying to say.
“Cammie is on that blimp,” Valerie said in realization. “And judging by your condition, I’m guessing she’s not much better off.”
He didn’t deny it.
A second later Robin appeared at her side, one sword in each hand. “What’s the play?”
Valerie furrowed her brow, watching as the other blimp began to rise back up now, too.
“Move, fast,” she said, and bent down to sling Royland over her shoulders.
“Where to?” Robin asked.
“We’re catching that blimp.”
Robin stared at her with wide eyes, but then said, “Got it,” and took off for one of several ropes that were still close to the ground.
Valerie wasn’t far behind, carrying Royland like a rag doll, doing her best to ignore the grunts of pain with each step.
“You don’t want pain, stay out of the way,” she said. “Or better yet, next time stay in Old Manhattan until you’ve talked your foolish plan out with me after I return.”
He grunted a response, or maybe it was just more pain causing the sound, but she didn’t care. She was too busy hoisting him over her back and wrapping his arms around her.
“Hold on,” she said. “If you want any chance of making this and rescuing Cammie, hold on with everything you’ve got left.”
Then she grabbed the last rope that was near the ground, and a moment later she was climbing, hand-over-hand up the rope with him clinging to her. A cursory glance showed her that Robin was shimmying up a rope nearby, almost to the top.
“This is insane,” Valerie said as she saw the camp fading away below and started the arduous process of climbing that rope while holding onto Royland. “But damn fun.”
CHAPTER FOUR
Old Manhattan
The sun had only just risen, but already Sandra was up, so she figured she might as well check on the new recruits. She hadn’t been able to go back to sleep since her early-morning fun with Diego.
Valerie had once had a vision for the former police when combined with the new Weres and vampires—that they could be more of a military, set up to not only ensure peace within the walls but to patrol surrounding areas and even be ready to go on the offensive if need be.
This was Sandra’s goal now, working with Colonel Donnoly and the others to set up this military. Upon returning from Chicago, they came to an agreement that it was necessary. The police would serve as the internal peace keepers, not losing their title, but set up in a much more formal role within a broader military organization.
Some of them, however, would join teams of Weres to make up the crux of the external military. A large portion of these groups would come from the recent recruits, Weres who had joined them from groups such as those from the Golden City. They would each have one of the assassin vampires, at a minimum, who had brought their gear for surviving in the daylight with them. Even with the gear, they would serve as night watches, only expected to act in the day during emergencies.
Sandra’s pod came to a stop at the edge of the east side of Central Park, renamed for the old days because the last month had been spent cleaning up this
portion of it. They had established it as training grounds for their new military, in part because they needed the land, and in part because it allowed the citizens of Old Manhattan a view of what was happening. They might be inspired to join, or at least feel that much more secure knowing a real military was taking charge and working to protect them.
While she wanted to relax and run her café, the part of her that had lived with Valerie so long couldn’t just turn away from all of this. She had to be a part of ensuring the city was safe. Maybe it was trust issues, she wasn’t sure, but she knew that if she didn’t help, she wouldn’t ever feel certain the necessary was being done.
The abandoned ruins at the edge of the park worked for training in urban environments, and that’s where Sandra turned her attention this morning.
“Can’t believe these assholes still got us doing this,” she overheard one of the new vampires saying, going silent when he noticed her. He nodded and returned to sparring practice with another vampire, both from the Black Plague assassin academy.
Their training was the most important, not to actually teach them fighting skills, but to ensure they stayed in line, to form the bonds of warriors.
She understood all of this from her years in France, under the Duke, and Valerie’s brother. There had been no shortage of military training, both in combat and strategy. Valerie had been part of it, too, but there was something Sandra noticed about the more powerful vampires and Weres in situations like this—they didn’t pay attention as closely as the weaker ones did. The more powerful ones, she had come to realize, didn’t have as much to worry about, or so they always seemed to think when being taught something. This was especially true when the teacher was less powerful, and even more so when the teacher was an unaltered human. A normal, boring human. Like her.
That’s why she didn’t teach what she learned while under the Duke, or if she did, it was behind closed doors, talking strategy with Colonel Donnoly and the others. They could take it or leave it, but they had begun to listen more and more to the girl with the café. The girl who had been best friends with the most powerful vampire in Old Manhattan, while Valerie was here.