“Form a triangle,” Michael said.
Valeria took up position ten feet behind him on his left, and Loreti took up a similar position on his right.
The three of them held their Blades ready for action.
“Willy’s dead, Captain,” Karol said.
Mace turned numb. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Karol drop down on all fours, where he couldn’t see her without taking his eyes off the assassins, and within seconds he heard a deep growl. When she rose again, Karol had turned into a Wolf that stood a full foot taller than her human form.
Oh, Jesus. He had hoped never to see anyone in Wolf Form again.
Gabriel handed his sword to Mace and pulled off his turtleneck.
“Not you too,” Mace said.
“I told you I didn’t need a gun. I don’t need a sword, either.” And then he growled.
Mace looked at the Wolf to his left and the Wolf to his right. Karol reminded him of the creature Angela Domini had transformed into, and Gabriel reminded him of the more powerful Wolf that Janus Farel had been.
The leader of the assassins, a man with a bandaged nose, cocked his head in the direction of the woman. “Take the man, Valeria.”
Then he charged at Gabriel with a warrior’s cry.
CHAPTER THIRTY-EIGHT
Michael swung his Blade down at a forty-five-degree angle, slicing open the male beast’s torso from its left shoulder to its right hip. The beast howled in pain. Michael spun in a complete circle, slicing the beast’s stomach with a horizontal slash.
Loreti charged at the female beast. Before he could swing his Blade, she sprang at him, and the impact drove him to the floor with the monster on top of him. He felt long teeth tear his throat open, and hot blood scalded his esophagus. As he struggled to force the bitch off him, her front claws dug into his chest and her hind legs shredded his thighs. Then he felt a long tongue flicking against his own tongue, deep inside his throat, which triggered a gag reflex. He glimpsed bristly black fur, then only blackness.
Mace circled the woman called Valeria. He did not know how to fight with a sword, and his bad shoulder already throbbed just from holding the heavy weapon.
Valeria, on the other hand, seemed lithe and comfortable with her Blade, which was the same size as the one he held. She lunged at him and he stepped back, lunged again, and he stepped back again. Her eyes gleamed with blood-lust, and her lips formed a half smile. He had no doubt that he faced a trained killer. She lunged a third time, driving her Blade toward his face. He swung his Blade like a baseball bat with such ferocity that Valeria almost released her weapon, and she pirouetted to regain control of it.
That’s it! He couldn’t fence with her, but he could use his sword like a Louisville Slugger if she gave him half a chance.
Michael circled his beast, which snarled at him with fangs jutting out. The creature’s eyes locked on his, and he sensed no fear from the monster despite the serious wounds he had inflicted on it. He feigned a blow, then another, causing the beast to flinch and reach out with his claws. Then he dropped low and spun on one ankle, slicing the beast’s right thigh. The beast howled in pain, and Michael’s adrenaline pumped.
Karol chewed through her assassin’s neck until his head came free, then she stood straddling his corpse, which she seized with her front claws and raised above her head. She hurled it at the floor with all her strength, shattering bones and pulverizing meat and causing blood to gush out of its neck stump. Raising her head to the high ceiling, she unleashed a defiant roar.
Valeria advanced on Mace with a flurry of swings, forcing him back. Her efforts grew more driven, more ferocious, and an overhead swing drove the tip of Mace’s sword into a board on the floor. Seeing that she was seconds away from disarming him, he stomped on her Blade with his left foot and kicked her in the chest with his right. She flew back, releasing her sword, and landed on her back. Releasing his sword as well, Mace dove on top of her, but using both legs, she propelled him over her and sent him crashing to the concrete, where he grunted in pain.
Sensing his advantage, Michael pressed onward, attacking the male beast with a barrage of cuts with the expertise of a matador disabling a bull. He had trained for most of his adult life for this very task, and he felt empowered facing the leader of the beasts one-on-one. He did not know how Valeria and Loreti were faring, and he did not care. His entire life seemed to come down to this single confrontation.
A slice to the beast’s left collarbone caused it to clutch the wound with its right claw. The werewolf barked at him in defiance. Feeling the moment was at hand, Michael swung his Blade like a helicopter rotor and prepared to deliver the decisive blow, which would decapitate the beast. Then he would make a trophy of its skull.
Sitting up with a groan, Mace saw Valeria running to where their swords lay with the elegance of a dancer. She seized her Blade, faced him, then picked up the other one. For a moment he thought she intended to hand him his sword in a gesture of fair play. Instead, she crossed her arms, holding one blade against each shoulder, and bowed her head, her face taut with concentration.
Oh, shit, he thought, getting to his feet.
She charged at him, swinging both Blades in circular patterns with the accuracy of a power tool.
Michael felt a sudden disconnect in his lower left leg, then the same sensation in his lower right leg. Agony lanced through both of his lower limbs, and he sank to his knees. Looking over his shoulder, he saw the female beast licking blood from her lupine teeth, and he knew the blood was his. Lowering his gaze, he saw that she had bitten his Achilles tendons, crippling him. Pain seized his right wrist as the male beast sank the claws of its left hand into his flesh so that blood poured out of five different points.
The beast plucked the Blade from his hand with its right claw and stood towering above him. The creature stared into his eyes, then raised the Blade over its head. Michael felt his mouth opening, and then he saw the Blade swinging toward him. He felt the Blade hack halfway through his neck, and he looked at the weapon’s handle clutched in the beast’s claw—recognized the head of the wolf carved into the pommel—and saw his blood, which he coughed out. A moment later, he saw nothing at all.
Valeria advanced on Mace with blinding speed. He staggered backward and slammed against a column, trapped. Her face contorted into a mask of rage as she bore down on him. He knew he would have to duck to his left or right, and the only chance he had to survive was if she did not anticipate his move. He feinted to his left, then dove to his right and rolled across the floor.
Spotting the Blade that Karol had discarded, he scrambled over the gory heap that remained of the male assassin she had killed and scooped it up. By the time he turned around with the sword raised in both hands, Valeria attacked him with a series of ruthless swings with both of her Blades. He tried to fend off her blows, but one of the Blades sank into his left shoulder—his good shoulder—and he cried out. His feet slipped in blood and flew out from under him, and he landed on his back. With an inhuman snarl on her lips, Valeria raised both Blades over her head and prepared to bring them down on him.
For an instant, Mace thought about Cheryl and Patty. Then he heard a pair of gunshots, and a crimson flower blossomed between Valeria’s breasts. She froze, looked down at the wound, then let go of the Blades and toppled forward, landing on top of Mace. Rolling to one side, he shoved her off him, then looked from her glazed eyes to Cheryl, standing with Rhonda in the doorway Shelly and Norton had entered through. With his chest heaving and his heart pounding, he got to his feet.
Gabriel and Karol sat naked in human form on the floor near the headless corpse of Gabriel’s opponent. Though human in appearance once more, Gabriel licked his many wounds like an animal. Rhonda went over to them and sank to her knees.
Mace staggered over to where Shelly and Norton lay on the floor. Norton’s chest rose and fell with regularity, but Mace saw that Shelly was dead even before he checked for a pulse.
Willy and Shelly, h
e thought. So much for everyone going home alive.
Cheryl got down on one knee beside him, the gun smoking in her hand. “What happened?”
“They shot him with an animal tranquilizer. It must have been too much for him.”
She nodded at Norton. “What about her?”
“Same thing but she managed to pull the darts out. She must have prevented as big of a dose from getting into her bloodstream. We still need to get her to a hospital.” He looked at his wife. “I thought you were going to find your way out of here.”
‘We did find our way out. Then we found our way back in.”
Mace caressed one side of her face. “Are you okay?”
“Yeah. Thanks for saving my life.”
He wanted to laugh but couldn’t. Too high of a price had been paid.
“Your shoulder looks bad,” Cheryl said.
“Flesh wound.” Taking his gun from her, he stood up. “Karol?”
Karol looked over at him.
“You’re out of uniform. How about if you and Gabriel get dressed and we call 911? Norton and I need medical attention. It’s too late for Shelly.”
“Yes, Captain.” Karol stood, and Rhonda helped Gabriel up.
Mace limped over to Gabriel. He wasn’t even sure how he had hurt his leg. “Two years ago, I told your sister I needed to keep the Blade of Salvation I used to kill Janus Farel. I want you to take all of them with you tonight. Make sure they don’t fall into the hands of fanatics again.”
“Thank you,” Gabriel said.
Mace offered his hand. “Thank you.”
Gabriel shook his hand.
Mace walked over to the shoulder bag that the head assassin had dropped on the floor. Kneeling, he opened it and saw a laptop inside. He could only imagine what evidence it contained.
“Oh, my God,” he heard Cheryl say. He saw that she had stopped trying to awaken Norton. Instead she looked at the doorway. Six immense black Wolves stood there on their hind legs.
Mace returned to Cheryl and helped her stand. The Wolves moved toward them. Gabriel stepped between them, and Karol and Rhonda joined him. Cheryl squeezed Mace’s hand.
“Go home, Raphael,” Gabriel said. “There’s nothing left for you to do here.”
The lead Wolf stepped ahead of the others and dropped to all fours. Seconds later, Raphael rose, naked. He glanced at Rhonda, then shifted his gaze back to Gabriel. “We did as you asked. We tracked down the Torquemadans, and I gave you this location so the police could take care of them.” He looked at the corpses on the floor. “But you broke our laws. You helped the police. You showed them your true nature. So did Karol.”
“I did what I believed was necessary,” Gabriel said. “And I was right. They couldn’t have done this without us. It would have been a slaughter.”
“Now there are three humans who know our secret. One of them is a police captain, one is an FBI agent, and the other is a newscaster. We can’t allow any of them to live.”
Mace studied the five powerful-looking Wolves behind Raphael. Gabriel and Rhonda appeared as exhausted as he felt, and he doubted very much that his surviving team could fend off7 six Wolves.
“There will be no more killing tonight,” Gabriel said. “These people are under my protection from tonight forward.”
“Our laws—”
“Laws change as circumstances require. I make the laws. I’m the leader of the pack.”
Raphael glared at his brother. “For now but maybe not for much longer.”
Gabriel snorted. “Do you plan to challenge me?”
“Maybe. Or maybe I’ll just start a new pack. I have plenty of support.” He stared at Cheryl. “After her interview with Gomez, we have to be ready to face a new world. You’re obviously not strong enough to do what needs to be done. I am.”
“Elias has been filling your head with unhealthy thoughts. Don’t let him do this. You’re my brother. I love you.”
Raphael took a deep breath. “I love you too, which is why it breaks my heart to see you so weak. We’ll leave you to your humans. I wonder if they’ll protect you tomorrow as you’ve protected them tonight. Take care of yourself. The next time we meet, things will be different.”
Transforming into a Wolf, Raphael turned and bounded out of the warehouse, followed by his Wolf soldiers, their howls filling the night.
CHAPTER THIRTY-NINE
Mace sat in Jim Mint’s seventh-floor office at One Police Plaza. Outside, the first snowflakes of the year drifted to the city streets below.
“Incredible,” Jim said. “Absolutely incredible. I honestly didn’t think you could pull it off. How’s your shoulder?”
“It hurts like bloody hell,” Mace said.
“Stabbed with a sword.” Jim shook his head. “And not just any sword, but a historic one belonging to some ancient secret society. It’s too bad you lost them.”
“One of the drawbacks of working with no backup. We needed medical attention fast. Rhonda Wilson appeared traumatized, I was in bad shape, and Norton could have died. I made the call to drive straight to an ER rather than wait for an ambulance. It never occurred to me that anyone would walk into that crime scene before Landry and Smalls could secure it and walk out with our silver swords.”
Jim grunted. “Any theories as to who the thieves could have been?”
“That warehouse was abandoned. It could have been anyone—squatters, gang members. Maybe even a cop looking to make some extra money.”
“What about Class Ls?”
Mace wanted to shrug, but he didn’t have the shoulder for it. “Sure, I guess it could have been a Class L.”
“Did you see any werewolves this time?”
Mace had anticipated this question. “No.”
“I’m glad to hear it. It’s a damned shame about Diega and Shelly. They’ll each get a hero’s funeral. They died in the line of duty while taking down a terrorist cell. This city owes them a debt.”
“If we’d had a bigger unit …”
Jim raised one finger. “Don’t second-guess yourself like that. It won’t happen again.” “Oh?”
“If nothing else, the success of this operation proves the need for a task force like this, one that operates under the radar and gets things done. Especially after that interview Gomez gave your wife. You took care of the Brotherhood of Torquemada, but now we know what freaks are out there. Surely it’s occurred to you that Gabriel and Raphael Domini could be Class Ls. Otherwise, why would the Brotherhood have gone after them? Rhonda Wilson, too. Someone has to keep an eye on these people, and I think you’re the man for the job. What do you say? It will be a larger operation next time, with a full crew and all the backup you need.”
Mace wanted to say no. He didn’t want to run a task force anymore. He didn’t want to deal with Wolves or the department. He just wanted to enjoy life with his wife and daughter. But he couldn’t stop thinking about the standoff between Gabriel and Raphael, or shake the feeling that the bad blood between them meant bad things for New York City—his city. So he stared out the window at the falling snow and weighed his options.
Only two more years until retirement, he thought.
Sitting in the backseat of the town car, Father Tudoro watched JFK International Airport come into view. After everything that had happened the last few days, he had switched airports for his return to Rome. The last place on earth he wanted to be right now was Newark.
The elimination of the terrorist cell known as the Brotherhood of Torquemada had made front-page news around the world. Combined with the interview Cheryl Mace had conducted with Rodrigo Gomez and Michael’s foolish abduction of her that same night, he knew there was no chance the Brotherhood would ever rise again, at least not in connection with the church. He felt bad about the Brotherhood members—especially Valeria—but they had known the risks when he enlisted them. At least he had provided their lives with direction.
Tudoro had devoted his life to the cause, and now he was through with werewolves, cov
ert operations, and church politics. As soon as he returned to Rome, he intended to apply for a position at some remote church in a warm climate.
The town car pulled over to his airline, and the chauffeur removed his luggage from the trunk and helped him out. He paid the man, who wished him a good day, and collected his receipt. He did not notice the woman and five men in black suits and dark sunglasses until they intercepted him.
“Father Jonas Tudoro?” the woman said.
“Yes?” He hoped he didn’t sound too surprised.
The woman showed him a federal badge. “I’m Special Agent Norton with the FBI, and these are my associates from the bureau, Homeland Security, and the CIA. We’d like you to come with us to answer some questions.”
“What is this? I’ve done nothing wrong.”
The woman smiled. “Really, Father? My late partner, Special Agent Shelly, would disagree with you if he was still alive. So would Detective Diega from NYPD and countless others.”
“Who? I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
Leaning close to him, the woman raised her sunglasses. “Michael kept records on his laptop, and we have that. We’ve checked your travel history against his notes on your meetings. You’re the last living member of a very special, very secret organization, which we’re very anxious to learn all about.”
Tudoro gasped. “Am I under arrest?”
“Oh no, Father. We don’t arrest enemy combatants of the United States. We just make them disappear.”
The Frenzy War Page 31