by Ann Gimpel
One more excruciatingly loud blast rocked Aura. It would have knocked her to her knees, but Karin grabbed her arm.
“Cut your power,” Ketha shouted. “We did it.”
“Talk to me,” Aura pleaded. “Did what? Is the gateway shut? What about Hell’s minions?”
Ketha closed on her and gripped her shoulder. “Your plan worked. We gave it everything, and the darkness is fading. To give credit where it’s due, the church focused our efforts. Without it as a crucible, we might not have succeeded.” She took a breath. “Jesus. Your face—”
“None of that,” Karin cut in.
“None of what?” Aura screeched around the thick, sore places in her throat. “I can’t see, but what else is wrong?”
“You look like you went ten rounds with a gorilla,” Ketha said, ignoring Karin’s warning. “Your face is all cut up.”
“So’s mine,” Tessa said. “Zoe’s too. Sharp shit was flying through the air. Did some of it damage Aura’s eyes?”
Aura started to shiver. Nerves. An adrenaline overload. Relief they’d come through unscathed. Or had they? “Did everyone make it?” she asked, and sucked in a tight breath.
“More or less,” Tessa said. “Moira’s arm is broken. Several of us have deep cuts on our faces. Would have been worse except for all these layers of clothes.”
Karin latched an arm through Aura’s. “Come on. I’m taking you inside the church so I can assess your eyes.”
“Good idea,” Ketha said. “It will still be cold, but at least we’ll be out of the wind.”
Karin herded Aura to the left. “Too bad you can’t see,” she muttered. “A dead Gryphon is ahead, except the flesh is smoking off its bones.”
“Makes sense,” Aura said through chattering teeth. “Nothing from any of the other worlds can remain here without magic to power it. We severed the gateway.”
“Yes, dearie. Having those abominations here in any form defies one of the many laws of physics, which means they won’t be here long. Watch the steps. There are four of them. Hard left and head straight through the door.”
The scents of rot and brimstone battled with incense, candles, and old leather as Aura walked inside the church that had lent its particular brand of power to help them.
“I feel like I should thank this building,” Aura muttered.
“Meh,” Karin replied. “If the priest was still in residence, he’d consider us abominations, not unlike the batch we ousted. Face this way.” Karin closed her hands around either side of Aura’s head, holding it steady. She was still numb from cold or the contact would have hurt if her skin was as abraded as Ketha had suggested.
“Is it only your earth eyes?” Karin asked.
“It’s everything,” Aura said. “I can’t see shit with my third eye, either.”
“Heh! There’s a piece of good news.”
Aura waited, but Karin didn’t elaborate on her comment. The sounds of footsteps surrounded her as the other women crowded into the church.
“I could use a spot of help,” Karin called.
“I’m here.” Ketha trotted over.
“Drop your warding,” Karin instructed Aura. “All of it, and then lie on the floor. One of those bastards, maybe the dragon, did its damnedest to disable your magical center. Have you heard from your cat lately?”
Aura shook her head. “Not since the explosions.”
“I see the blocked place,” Ketha said. “What do we do about it?”
“Jesus!” Aura complained. “I’m right here. What blocked place? Where is it? Talk to me. Not about me.”
Karin ignored her and focused her words at Ketha. “Open your magic so I can borrow from it. Once we’re joined, hold steady until I say we’re done.”
“What are you going to do?” Aura fought panic.
“Correct the problem, what else?” Karin said with more than a touch of asperity. “Focus on your breathing. I’ll have this fixed up in a jiffy. Might hurt, though. Do not move. No matter what.”
A blast of white-hot pain shot through the dead center of Aura’s forehead. She screamed but held still. She’d known Karin her whole life and trusted her.
A yowl came from deep inside her. “Yes!” her bondmate screeched. “I’m back. The barrier between our magics fell. Thank every god and goddess that ever watched out for our kind.”
Aura wanted to tell Karin her cat was back, but don’t move meant just that. Talking required movement.
“We’re done here, Ketha,” Karin murmured. “I’m relieved you still had some magic left for me to leverage.”
“Me too,” Ketha replied. “When you asked, I wasn’t certain.”
A cool palm settled over Aura’s forehead. “You did very well, dear,” Karin said in her best doctor voice. “I heard your bond animal, so I believe we were successful. Open your earth eyes first.”
Aura swallowed around the tender spots in her throat and opened her eyes. The empty nave shimmered before coming into focus. Tears spilled over, and she reached for Karin. “Thank you.”
“Don’t mention it.” She pulled Aura into a sit. “Your psychic view will return as your magic replenishes itself.”
“Can you tell me what happened?” Aura asked.
“The non-technical answer is one of the hell horde drove a wedge into your magical center, which is in the same region as your visual cortex. So it effectively cut you off from your bondmate and blinded you at the same time.”
Aura swiped at her wet cheeks, and her fingers came away bloody. “Am I crying blood?”
“Nope. It’s all the abrasions on your face. We’ll attend to them later. The cold will keep the bleeding to a minimum.”
“I’m worried about the men,” Ketha said. “I’m heading toward the barracks.”
“Not by yourself, you’re not,” Aura countered.
Ketha furled both brows. “Really? You probably should—”
“Stuff it.” Aura rolled to her feet. “If you go, we all should. Not a good idea to split up.”
“The gateway’s closed,” Ketha protested.
“That might be so,” Aura shot back, “but there may be Vamps on the loose. In truth, there probably are, or the men would be back by now.”
Zoe walked close. “I’m game.”
Aura blanched at the sight of the other Shifter’s lacerated face. “Aw, crap. Do I look like you?”
Zoe rolled her dark eyes. “Och. Worse.”
“None of us will be in the running for a beauty pageant anytime soon,” Tessa muttered.
“Sooner we get this over with,” Ketha said, “the sooner we can return to Arkady.” She trudged toward the church door.
Aura followed her through, and her eyes widened. Bodies lay crumpled as far as she could see. Maybe fifty. Maybe more. A collection of smoking, crumbling forms that would have made a Stephen King book tame.
“Shit,” she muttered. “They look more menacing now than when they were attacking us.”
Moira trooped past her. “See. Told you they were real, although this is one time I’d rather have been wrong.”
“I feel like I should take inventory or something,” Zoe muttered, “but it’s my archaeologist side, and I’m ignoring it.”
“Come on, people.” Ketha clapped her hands together. Her mitts were as tattered as Aura’s. “I asked my wolf for information, but it can’t get through to the men’s bond animals.”
Aura stuffed her half-frozen hands in her pockets and stumbled after Ketha. Worry for Juan filled her. She had no idea how much time had passed, but it had to have been more than an hour. The men should have returned long since. How much time did it take to behead a few Vamps?
“Hold up,” she called and ran back into the church. She grabbed the first reasonably portable crucifix she found and ran after the women. They didn’t have the iron blade. Maybe the cross would buy them a moment or two, although it felt pretty paltry if they faced a passel of angry Vamps who’d recently emerged from stasis.
Chapter Twelve: The Only Good Vamp is a Dead Vamp
An Hour Earlier
Juan missed the supernatural speed and strength he’d enjoyed as a Vampire. Granted, he’d traded it for something far better and cleaner with his Shifter bond, but he wasn’t in cat form, running toward the barracks. Something about the darkness dragged at him. The cold too. He was used to polar regions, but the current chill was unnerving. It felt alive, ominous, hungry, as if it had targeted them. The bone-rattling sensation had to affect the other men as well, but no one said much as they loped through the gloom, dodging rocks and piles of bones.
Gathering his unfamiliar magic, Juan took a stab at assessing if the Vampire feel was growing stronger. Before he was done sampling from every angle, Viktor hissed, “Ssht. Wait.”
Juan feinted sideways to avoid plowing into Viktor’s back.
“Why’d we stop?” Recco kept his voice low, but he was close enough to hear even over the incessant roar of the wind that attacked from first one side and then another.
“Don’t know,” Juan muttered.
Recco had come to a halt on Juan’s other side with Daide right behind him.
Juan twisted to face him. “This storm. Something’s weird about it.”
“Something’s not right about all of this,” Viktor growled. He had the saber lashed across his back. Juan held the ship’s rifle in the crook of one elbow, and Daide had the old Remington from the barracks.
“The wind blows from the northwest across this island,” Juan said. “The Allardyce Range protects this side.” He hunched his shoulders against a particularly vicious blast of wind. “It’s what I’m talking about, what I meant by weird. The wind just came from the south. Last gust was from the east.”
“Jesus! Have you lost your mind, mate?” Viktor cinched his hood tighter. “I stopped because I sense Vamps moving our way. We need to find a defensible location and wait for them to find us. Not engage in a philosophical discussion about atypical weather patterns.”
“Yeah. I felt those fuckers too, but I was waiting to be certain,” Daide muttered.
“How the hell did they get loose?” Recco sounded spooked.
“How else?” Viktor asked sourly. “Demons must have opened their crypt.”
Wind and weather were where Juan lived, elements he understood. Once Viktor gave voice to the obvious, he fought against a creeped-out sensation. Them against a few Vamps was one thing, but demons were a whole other level of threat. He narrowed his eyes, willing them to pierce the blackness shrouding them.
“Should we go back and help the women?” Juan kept his question quiet. No telling who might be listening.
“Pfft. They scarcely need our assistance,” Viktor muttered. “Best thing we can do is our part, which is taking care of the Vampires.”
Juan felt torn. He wanted to be both places. “Let’s finish this off fast so we can tackle whatever’s left of the demons.”
“Psychic view,” Juan’s cat spoke up and fashioned the alteration.
Juan looked out at a gray world bisected by ley lines and determined they were about halfway between the last rickety building and the barracks. Going back wasn’t wise because it meant turning their backs on the Vampires. He raked his gaze over the steep, inhospitable mountainside rising to their left. It wouldn’t work, either, as a place to take a stand. They needed somewhere open and flat where they could fight.
“I’m going to assume those Vamps didn’t lose their ungodly speed and coordination,” Viktor said.
“They didn’t,” Recco replied. “For all I know, they could be worse. According to Raph, they’ll be nastier, more aggressive—if it’s even possible.”
“Richard’s farewell letter said there were five of them,” Juan said still hunting for a spot that might offer them an advantage. “How about those boulders?” He jerked his chin at a spot about fifty feet behind them.
“What boulders?” Daide asked.
“I’m using my third eye,” Juan explained. “Follow me.” He broke into a shambling trot, moving faster since he could see obstacles before he tripped over them. He ducked behind a boulder that stood a good eight feet tall. A slightly smaller one sat off to its side.
“How about this?”
“Better than anything I came up with,” Viktor acknowledged.
“I’m going to shift,” Recco announced. “My wolf convinced me one of us needs to be in animal form. It also said all of you should use your third eye so you don’t shoot us by mistake.”
“Crap!” Daide muttered. “I’m not very good at the transition.”
“None of us are,” Juan said. “Ask your coyote to do it for you. If it understands how much you need it, maybe it won’t be as put out with you.”
“We made decent progress when Karin worked with me,” Daide replied.
“Whatever you do, be quick about it,” Viktor said. “I figure we have five minutes, tops. Probably less.”
Daide nodded sharply and faced the boulder, splaying his mitts across it. Juan heard him muttering. “Can you help?” he asked his bond animal.
“In what way?”
“Tell, er suggest, to Daide’s coyote this isn’t the time to hold grudges. We need all of you.”
His cat didn’t reply, and Juan didn’t push the issue. If he’d asked something of his bond animal that fell outside the acceptable realm, the cat didn’t chide him for it.
Recco’s clothing lay in a pile. He balanced his boots and a rock atop everything, so the wind wouldn’t blow them into the restless ocean. “Fuck, it’s cold,” he managed through chattering teeth. Light flashed and shimmered, and a black-and-gray timber wolf formed where Recco had stood. It spread its jaws in the lupine equivalent of a grin, tongue lolling. The wolf nudged Daide’s upper leg with its snout.
Daide dropped a gloved hand onto the wolf’s head and stroked it. “All is well,” he said. “My bond animal is on board, and I’ll be careful with my bullets.”
“Psychic view?” Recco’s wolf demanded confirmation.
“Yes, brother.”
The wolf faded toward the mountainside.
Juan got the ship’s rifle ready and clicked off the safety. Daide did the same with the Remington. Viktor slid the saber from its makeshift scabbard. The reek of death and rot intensified as the Vamps drew closer. Juan’s heart pounded against his ribs. This would be over fast. No point even trying to conceal themselves with magic. None of them were familiar enough with Shifter magic, and he didn’t want to divert any of his power to finesse an awkward spell.
Vamps dealt in supernatural strength, stealth, and speed. Shifter magic was far more nuanced and multifaceted, but it also presumed someone had been a Shifter long enough to learn to use it, which counted the four of them out.
“I’ll behead one or two of them,” Viktor said. “Then I’ll do my damnedest to get out of the way to give you clear shots at the others.”
It wasn’t much of a plan, but it was the best they were likely to come up with.
Juan balanced on the balls of his feet and moved the rifle to firing position. He was pleasantly surprised to find his third eye did dual duty as the night vision scope he didn’t have. The Ruger Guide gun butting against his shoulder was designed to take down a polar bear, so it should at least slow a Vamp down.
He inhaled and wished he hadn’t. The sulfur stench of hungry Vampire was overwhelming, and his gut cramped in protest. Rotten eggs raised to the millionth power.
“Ready,” Viktor said in a tense voice. The wind, their constant, nagging companion, died to a brisk breeze, but Juan couldn’t divert his attention to figure out what it meant. He hoped to hell Aura was safe, but he had more faith in her magic than his own.
As soon as we get out of this, magic hits the big time. I’ll practice until my eyes bleed spells.
Daide swung the Remington to a shoulder, sighting down its barrel, and gave Juan and Viktor a thumbs-up sign before curving his right index finger around the trigger.
Five
bodies shambled toward them, not moving at anything like normal Vamp speed. Juan ground his teeth. Were they as weak as they appeared? The lead Vamp tilted his head up, displaying a face where the flesh was eaten away. Bone showed through along his jawline on one side and around one eye socket, making him look like the ghoul he was. His hands were curved into bony claws. Any clothing he’d once had had rotted away years ago, and he was naked. As Juan watched, a clump of flesh peeled off one arm and splatted onto the ground.
The other four Vamps strode close behind, flanking the leader on both sides. They were in just as bad a shape, their bodies half-eaten away by rot. If he’d had time, Juan would have gloated. The bastards finally looked like what they were, any beauty they’d once held eroded by putrefaction and the passage of time.
Viktor shouted something in German and charged, sword raised and ready. One of the Vamps on the side bent and scooped something into a bony claw. “Watch out!” Juan shrieked, but the Vamp tossed a television-sized rock right in front of Viktor. He did his damnedest to avoid it, but it rolled. He tripped and sprawled into the dirt. At least, he still had hold of the saber.
With an outraged howl, Recco launched himself from the shadows and drove the lead Vamp to the ground, clawing and biting. The Vamp tried to shake the wolf off. When that didn’t work, it flipped over and settled its skeletal fingers around the wolf’s neck.
A rifle blast at close quarters pounded Juan, deafening him, followed by one more. Daide had shot two of the Vamps. The one who’d sabotaged Viktor’s forward drive and the one right next to him. The silver-and iron-laced bullets did their work. Spreading holes in the middle of the Vamps’ chests caught fire. Stinking smoke made the stench worse.
Two down. Three to go.
Juan leapt to Viktor’s side and wrenched the blade from his grasp. Circling around behind, he swung it hard sideways and beheaded the Vamp, choking the life out of the snarling, snapping wolf. Black blood spewed skyward, showering him and Recco with something that smelled like a cross between a charnel pit and a mass grave baking beneath an Amazon sun. How could the thing still have blood after all this time?