He shrugged and nodded to the house. “Let’s see what else is waiting for us.”
The front door swayed in the wind with a rhythmic creak. The only other sound was our breathing and the slow crunch of our feet on the snowy walkway.
Carden reached in carefully and flicked on the light, illuminating a scene of total carnage.
The place was small, more of a cottage than an actual house, and it was possible to take it all in with one glimpse. There was a kitchenette, a fireplace. A door opened onto a small bathroom, and I could spot chipped tiles, an ancient sink with hot and cold faucets, and a bare bulb hanging from the ceiling.
But the thing that snagged the entirety of my attention were the cots, four of them, arranged with military precision along the back wall. Gray metal frames bearing thin mattresses. And bodies. One per cot.
Blood, everywhere—smooth crimson pools of it shimmered on neatly swept floorboards, glistening in my flashlight’s beam. I stepped closer, careful not to tread in it, and leaned down. A single set of footprints tracked in and out of the puddles.
Someone had gone from bed to bed, slicing throats.
I held my breath as I stood. Shone my flashlight on the bodies.
“Holy crap,” I blurted. Because there was someone I recognized, someone whose white-blond hair was matted with blood. “What was Tracer Otto doing here?” My eyes shot to Carden. “I hated Otto.”
“Aye, as did Fournier.”
I gaped at him, my mind spinning. “Really?”
I’d known my world was complicated, but this was some serious up-was-down-and-down-was-up crap—where apparently my friend Josh was my enemy and the Tracer I despised had been an ally.
Disturbed, I found my gaze sliding from Carden. How could I know who to trust in this world, really, if it was impossible to genuinely know anybody?
Needing to fill the silence so he wouldn’t somehow detect my thoughts, I said, “Who did this? Surely, Charlotte couldn’t have gotten here so fast.”
He pointed to a spot over the hearth, where a message was scrawled in blood,
Tick-tock.
XoX lottie
Her words echoed in my head: I’ll get to her first. You’ll be too late to help your dying mommy.
My eyes shot to his. “We have to go. Now.”
I guess I’d expected him to protest, but for once Carden was in easy agreement with me.
“Aye,” he said as he took my hand. “She can’t be far ahead.”
I got to the door first. Opened it. And immediately stumbled back a step.
A wall of men in uniform stood there, and for a second I thought police had come to raid the safe house. But then I made sense of the armbands they wore—red sashes, each with a white circle and a black swastika in the center.
CHAPTER THIRTEEN
“Freaking…what the…Nazis?”
Carden’s arm reached around and slammed the door shut.
I gaped at him. Had I fallen and hit my head? Because this was seriously not computing. “Do those guys know what decade this is?”
“I warned you this was a bad idea,” he said, and the nonchalant Carden-ness of it infuriated me, waking me from my stupor.
“Suddenly this is my fault?” I dashed to the window, peering out. I wasn’t proud of how hysterical that’d come out. I needed to get a hold of myself and squinted out the window, trying to make sense of it all. Sure enough, their uniforms were tailored, every pleat sharp, every hat peaked and impeccable. These weren’t costumes. “You didn’t tell me there were Nazis.”
“The Russians forced most of them out after the war. The rest went underground. You can imagine the Synod was only happy to take them in.” He pulled his sword from the scabbard at his side.
“They have guns, Carden. You’re bringing a sword to a gunfight.”
He gave me a look, and there was something cruel in his eyes, there and gone in an instant. “Dismiss my blade, and you know naught of me.”
There was a sudden chill in my hands, and I rubbed them together. “Just saying I wish we had more weapons.” I plucked my stars from my boot, but how I wished I had that cool new boomerang star, the one currently stowed safely in my duffel…which was on the back of the bike. “The stupid duffels are still on the stupid bike.”
He put a finger to his lips to silence me.
A stream of German came to us from the other side of the door. Things like schnell and wie viele.
My pulse hitched up a notch. I felt so naked—here we were, surrounded, and I had only four throwing stars. Four.
There was the misericordia, of course. That little nuke was tucked in my boot, but Ronan’s warnings resonated in my head. “You must keep it hidden. Even from Carden.” Keep it hidden…from Carden…hidden…
And then there was that look Carden had just given me—a strange electricity in his eyes that was giving me pause.
But those were Nazi vampires…just on the other side of this feeble structure. “Is this particle board?” I ran my hand along the wall. “What kind of safe house is this, anyway?”
“Hush, lass. They are many, but they are…different.”
“I got that. They’re Nazis.”
“No. I mean they’re a bit mad.”
“Duh. Those dudes operated on schnitzel and rage.”
I risked another peek outside. The vampires were circling, but not acting with particular urgency. There were eleven of them, and they knew they had us pinned and outnumbered.
Carden put a hand on my shoulder, and I must’ve jumped a foot off the ground. “I mean the change left them a wee bit addled.”
“Like Draug?” The only experience I had with such a thing were those Trainees who’d not successfully made it through the transition. They weren’t dead, but they weren’t exactly compos mentis.
“Not like Draug, either. Just a bit…obsessed.”
“That doesn’t make me feel better.” One of them took a step closer to the house, and I let the curtain drop. “It’s going to be a freaking siege,” I said, lowering my voice even more. “I know history. Sieges aren’t pretty. Neither are Nazis.”
“Stop your panic,” Carden murmured. “Freya’s people keep weapons.”
I had weapons, too. One very powerful one.
I thought again about busting out the misericordia. But Ronan, usually Mr. Man-of-Few-Words, had warned me, and in no uncertain terms. “There might come a moment when your life hangs in the balance. If there is no other choice, if you wield this blade, you must do so swiftly and with confidence.”
I flexed my calf, reassured by the press of the cool silver against my skin. It would stay there until I really needed it.
“What do you mean they ‘keep weapons’?”
He flung open a cabinet, tossing me a satchel. It landed at my feet with the unmistakable sound of wood clacking, heavy with stakes. “So we can stake them. What else kills vampires?” I began thinking aloud, and with a nod to his sword, said, “There’s beheading. Light is uncomfortable.”
As the words left my mouth, Carden handed me a metal box that looked like it’d been stolen from a student theater stage production. “UV spotlight.” He tilted it, showing me a switch along the side. “Just don’t aim the thing my way.”
“Got it.” I dumped out the stakes and tucked as many as I could in my boots and up my sleeves. My weapons cache was scant but growing. “What else have we got?”
He opened another cabinet, and a bunch of useless crap clattered to the ground. He kicked through it and, with a slight shrug, tossed me an old garden spade.
“I thought this was a vampire safe house.” I sneered at the rusty tool in my hand. “Am I supposed to plant tomatoes when we’re done?”
“They like to eat.” He plucked it from my hand and tucked it into my belt. “And you need every sharp-edged thing we can find.”
Someone barked an order from the other side of the door. Feet stomped in unison.
“Ready?” Carden pulled me to my feet. “And
don’t say you were born thus.”
The wink he gave filled me with courage. To him, this was child’s play. He was so easy and carefree, and it was hard not to feel the same in his presence.
I squeezed his hand before I let it go. “Then let’s just say you make me feel that way.”
He nipped down and stole a kiss. And then he flung the door open.
They flew at us.
“Oh, crap.” I stumbled backward and braced, waiting for those guns they had strapped at their sides to be unholstered. But they didn’t reach for them. In fact, they pulled no weapons at all. They came at us, a swarm of blackened claws and shining fangs.
“The lamp,” Carden shouted. His sword was out and he was stepping into the storm.
The UV thing. Of course.
“Watch out. On your left.” I switched it on, and most of the vamps jumped out of the way of the superpowerful beam of ultraviolet light, but two didn’t.
They caught fire almost instantly.
“Cool!” The light flickered off, and I shook the box until it flickered back on again, swinging just in time to flash another vampire rushing me from the side. “I’m loving this thing.”
I stepped outside to find someone else to zap, but Carden snatched my shoulder and pulled me back. “It’s safest inside. Stay in here as long as you can.”
At my movement, a few tried to rush the door, including the guy I’d just blasted. Unlike the others, this one was still stumbling around, his face a charred black mask.
Resting the light on my hip, I grabbed a pillow from a nearby chair and shoved it at him, pushing him back out the door. “Oh no you don’t.” The fabric and feathers caught fire instantly, melting into his smoldering rib cage. He stumbled backward and fell, his entire body exploding into a cloud of embers and dust. “Three down.”
I looked toward Carden, wanting to catch his eye in my moment of awesome, but he was too busy pushing past me, sword in hand. With one swoop of his strong arm, he beheaded two vampires who’d managed to enter through the window.
I jumped back. “Whoa. Thanks.”
I spared Carden a quick look, then had to smile as I saw how fluidly he was dispatching the remaining vampires using just that one sword. He was hacking through them like a knife through butter, most beheaded, others run through. “You weren’t kidding about your blade.”
His answering laugh was carefree. The guy was enjoying himself.
I heard a knocking then the sound of shattering glass.
“In the back,” Carden shouted to me.
“Got him.” I dashed to where a vampire was crawling through a window at the back of the house. “This has got to be the last of them.”
I ran back, shining my lamp, which chose that very instant to flicker out. I shook it. It flickered on for a second, then died for good.
“Look out,” Carden shouted, and when I looked back up, the vamp was right there in my face.
“Aw, hell.” I gave the light box one last shake, then swung it up and caught the thing on the chin. His skin split and his chin smashed in, letting loose a stream of reddish black fluid.
I’d never get used to fighting other people, but there was something so unreal about fighting these monsters. Even their bloodshed was cartoonish and so completely inhuman.
Close-up like this I could smell him, and he smelled different than any vamp I’d ever met. He smelled wrong. And it wasn’t the wrongness of the rotting Draug. This smell was pungent, fetid, like overripe fruit.
“Oh, sick.” I swung again, and this time it was mostly to put something between me and the disgusting stuff spewing from his body.
He tried to speak, but it came out only as a wet, gurgling sound, followed by a breath of air. “Hei—“
Hi? Was he saying heil?
“Your guy lost, you verrückt Nazi freak.” I hit him again, but the guy wasn’t dropping. Adrenaline shot through my veins, making me tremble. I hit again, again, again, slamming the box against his stupid granitelike Teutonic jaw, but his chin only snapped back into place, presenting me with a gaping maw of a half-sneer.
He stepped forward and reached for me, and I was so taken aback by the strange robotic movements, he managed to grab hold of my throat before I could stop him. He grabbed and squeezed.
And squeezed.
Air was barely whistling through my constricted windpipe. In a second, it would close off for good.
I grabbed his wrists, but the entirety of my training came back and hit my brain with a dull thud. This was no way to save myself from being strangled.
I let go. My gaze went to his vulnerable parts—his eyes, his nose, his groin…but then I saw it, his gun.
I grabbed it from his holster. Put it to his forehead. And fired.
Nothing.
Then I panicked. I pulled the trigger again, and again, and each time there was just a lame little click. These Nazis had guns, but the last time they had ammunition was probably around 1945.
There was a shout from outside. Abruptly, his hands fell from my throat. He stood upright, clicked his heels together, and bracing his arms rigidly at his side said, “Sieg heil.” Which, with his mashed up face, came out sounding more like, “Thig hi.”
All the vampires I’d taken for dead had risen. As in, they just stood up. They stood and clicked their heels, a chorus of heil resounding around us.
“What the hell?” I looked back at Carden. “They’re saying heil.”
Two of the vampires I’d blasted with the UV light teetered in from outside, their skin gone, bones smoldering, eyes disappeared into empty black sockets.
I tossed the gun down. I had the misericordia—was now the time? Was this my life hanging in the balance? “How do we kill them?”
Carden nodded to the bodies lying behind him. The ones he’d beheaded and the one who’d exploded into embers were still down for the count. “We’ve got to take their heads, I imagine.”
“You imagine? I thought you had the power of foresight. Shouldn’t you have seen this coming?”
Five vampires remained standing, and their heels clicked again. The front door creaked, and in walked a vamp I hadn’t seen before. He was dressed much the same as the others, but his long woolen overcoat announced him as their leader.
“Sieg heil,” they all shouted. “Sieg heil.”
Hail victory, hail victory.
I edged my way next to Carden and murmured, “I don’t think so.”
This was too weird. These dudes were clearly after us, but Carden had been right, there was something off about them. Like they were trapped in a film loop. They were soldiers enacting a siege, and yet they weren’t completely seeing us, not really.
“Five injured soldiers and one general.” I scooted close enough to Carden for our arms to touch. “And not a brain in the bunch.”
The general began to speak, walking in front of the doorway with a sharp gait, unbending arms and legs moving at right angles. His words were all slurry, but my German was pretty good, and I managed to make out the words “das Mädchen.”
The girl.
“I think they’re talking about me. Do you think they can even—” I was going to say understand but five pairs of heels clicked as five sets of eyes landed on me.
“Damn,” I whispered. “He’s blocking the door. What now? We’re stuck in here with them.”
“Be easy, lass.”
“Fine for you to say, you’ve got a sword. And I’ve got a shovel.” I’d thrown my stars long ago.
Carden cut his eyes down at me. “You’ve got naught else?”
The misericordia. Was now the time?
But I knew it wasn’t. I needed that to save my mother. If Carden and I couldn’t figure out how to dispatch a few brain-damaged vampires who were stuck in the 1940s, well then, I sure wasn’t going to be able to save my mom from Jacob’s clutches.
“Yeah,” I said, “I only have the shovel.” And though that probably was capable of decapitating a vampire, it’d probably take m
e about five minutes of hard hacking. “But…” There was one thing in my possession, that wasn’t the misericordia, able to decapitate these bastards.
“But?”
“The boomerang you gave me is in my duffel. I’d love to give it a test drive.”
Carden glanced from the general guarding the front door and back to me. “And so you shall, love.” He gave me a grin. “Go quick now, and I’ll see to occupying their attention.”
He didn’t pause, he just leapt toward them, waving his sword. I heard a solid thuck-thuck-thuck. Three heads rolling.
“Jeez.” I snapped-to and bolted to the door. “More warning next time.”
The general was lunging at Carden, but another had taken his place at the open door, and his eyes were on me. “Crap.” My hand went to the shovel tucked at my waist. “Stupid crappy shovel.” It was all I had, but I guessed it was better than nothing.
I faked left and then bobbed around him, sweeping my shovel behind me as I passed, lodging it deep into his throat.
It wasn’t a full-on decapitation, but it slowed the guy down enough for me to scramble out the door to the motorcycle. I ran, but the snow had been packed down by so many footprints, my feet slipped on the icy sheen. I slammed down hard onto my hands and sucked in a breath at the sharp pain shooting up my arms. Ignoring the icy grit ground into my shredded palms, I scrambled to get my feet back under me, then let momentum carry me, slipping and sliding to the bike. To my duffel.
Heavy breathing was coming up from behind me, a sort of gurgling hiss. And then another sound from the side, a whispered heil, heil, heil.
My body was shaking with cold and nerves, my palms bleeding, but I managed to open my bag. I shoved my hand in, and right away nicked my thumb on the razor-sharp edge of my boomerang. I pulled it out with a swallowed curse.
I saw now that two had followed me outside and they halted in their tracks, bodies gone completely still. Their eyes were pinned on my hands. On my bloody palms and thumb.
They were slavering, staring, with mouths hanging open. So creepy. And I wasn’t about to wait for them to pounce.
“All right, boys. Here goes nothing.” I hauled up my arm and slung the boomerang. At first I thought I’d messed it up—I mean, how stupid to think I could make the weapon work the first time I really used it in action? But as it spun through the air, I saw it was going to hit its mark. It sliced a throat, and I put up my hand to catch it, but the thing kept whipping around to slice the other guy’s throat, and finally it whipped back to me, the flat side landing in my hand with the dull sound of a mallet on meat.
Reckoning (The Watchers Book 5) Page 11