Grabbing the sword’s hilt, I pull it from my chest and sling it away. I stalk toward Jack, who is picking himself up from the ground. He stands hunched, and when he looks up, I can see the change in his eyes. He loosens his grip on humanity and falls deeper into the blood just as I have done. He snarls and rushes at me, his hands extended, fingers splayed like talons.
Whatever fighting style we once espoused vanishes. We become something like a cartoon caricature: a rolling, snarling mass of clawing hands, pummeling fists, and gnashing teeth. We are two animals, wild and ferocious, locked in a battle to the death for primacy.
Jack tries to get a grip on me, but his fingernails cut through my flesh and slip off. The more I bleed, the harder it becomes for him to get a grip. With Jack still wrapped in his human trappings, an apt phrase to be sure, I grab the front of his jacket, roll him over my shoulder, and slam him onto the ground. Twice more I lift and dash him against the concrete as if I’m beating laundry against a rock, before hurling him against the nearest stand of immovable steel.
He rebounds off the metal pipes and valves, groaning in pain. Jack crawls to his hands and knees, raises his head, and gives me a snarling glare. The last vestiges of humanity flee his eyes. His feet slip against the dirt and debris-littered floor as he lunges forward with an animalistic roar.
I return his snarl and countercharge. We collide near the center of the complex like a pair of rams dueling over a ewe. Jack manages to get a grip on one of my wrists and puts me in a headlock. He leaps twenty feet straight up, twists around to put me on the bottom, and rides me to the floor.
My hands are busy trying to keep Jack’s teeth from tearing out a chunk of my neck, so I’m unable to break my fall. The impact with the floor is hard enough to daze me. My sight leaves me for a brief moment. Jack lifts me from the floor before I feel only weightlessness coupled with certain velocity.
Something solid arrests my flight. Agony lances through me, and I lose sensation in my legs. I look down and find a jagged length of metal sticking out of my stomach. I cast my eyes around and find myself pinned against a stand of pipes and machinery like a bug to a specimen board.
Jack’s body undulates beneath his heavy, growling breaths. He grabs at his discarded logic and reels it back in. He picks up a length of flat steel from the ground nearby and stalks toward me. The metal isn’t sharp, but with his strength, it doesn’t need to be.
Jack spits out a wad of blood, his voice raspy and strained. “It was a bloody good game, Mr. Malone. Now I will have my trophy, if you please.”
He raises the piece of steel like a baseball bat. The pitch comes with a brilliant flash of light and a cacophonous roar. Jack stumbles and falls to his hands and knees, dropping his weapon. We both turn our heads toward the unexpected, violent interruption.
Kat is standing fifty feet away, her feet set in a shooter’s stance. She is holding Shalonda in a two-hand grip and cocks the hammer back for a second shot. A distant, tiny voice in my brain screams at her to run, but my mouth is incapable of forming human words.
Jack roars his fury and charges at Katherine. I struggle to push my body off the metal rod pinning me in place, but I know I cannot save her. Kat fires again, but the round goes over Jack’s shoulder. She has no time to take another shot.
A deep, booming staccato fills the air and illuminates the chamber like a strobe light. A barrage of 12 gauge, 00 buck slams into Jack’s side and knocks him away from my beloved. Castillo advances, never taking her aim off of Jack as she holds the trigger down and pours lead into him from the automatic shotgun, the fusillade occasionally punctuated by the .500 magnum.
Jack tries to get to his feet and run, but the detective cuts his legs out from beneath him before he makes it more than twenty feet. He lets loose an anguished cry, barely audible until the shotgun’s drum runs dry. Jack lays twitching on the floor. Impossibly, he crawls onto his hands and slowly stands. Kat squeezes the trigger, but the hammer falls on an empty chamber. She pulls my sword from her belt and makes to chase after Jack as he stumbles away, but I don’t give her the chance to reach him.
The moment I’m able to get my legs working again, I leap onto Jack’s back and ride him to the ground. Grabbing his head in my hands, I screech my outrage and rip his head from his shoulders. Palming it like a basketball, I smash it against the floor until it is nothing more than a pulped mess. I sense movement to my side. I whip my head toward the source and hiss.
Kat lays a hand on Castillo’s arm. “Don’t move. That’s not Leo. Not my Leo.”
Straddling Jack’s headless corpse, I glare at the two women and growl my hatred and hunger. I’m badly hurt and the blood pumping through their veins is my salvation. The urge to feed is overwhelming, but something holds me back. It is small and distant, but it is powerful. I turn my head toward the sky and unleash a mournful wail.
I run. It’s the only other thing I can do. I ignore my wounds and flee the one thing that could destroy me with more certainty than a dozen monsters like Jack. The horrible feeling of déjà vu fills me, only I know the memory is far too real. How many times can I destroy myself before there is nothing left to reassemble? I keep running, never breaking stride even when I pass near a food source, food I desperately need. My instincts kick in, and I avoid the eyes of humans as best I can, streaking down alleys and across rooftops whenever possible.
When the smell of explosives and familiar scents reach my nose I know I’m home. I crawl into my den and cower beneath a section of steel that was once part of my roof. Curling into a ball, I shudder and weep, moaning like the wounded animal I am.
I lay in my hole, shielding myself from the world and trying to hide from the eyes of God Himself. I hear a noise close by, and my body tenses, ready to fight or flee.
“Leo, it’s me.”
Katherine’s voice is like a thousand daggers plunging into my soul. For almost a minute, all I can do is moan.
“Stay away,” I finally manage to say.
“Never.”
She has my sword, gun, and jacket bundled in her arms. She sets the weapons aside and creeps toward me like one would a wounded, frightened animal.
“It’s okay, Leo.”
I shake my head. “No, it’s not.”
“It will be, I promise.”
I shake my head harder. It’s not okay. I don’t see how anything can possibly be okay ever again. She sidles next to me, her movements slow and unthreatening. She lays the jacket over my shoulders, clothing the animal so that he might feel more like a man. I grab at the edges, pull it tightly around my body, and fall into her embrace.
“How did you find me?” I ask, my voice reedy and quaking.
“You worried me after your call. I thought you were going to do something stupid. I didn’t know what else to do, so I called Castillo. She told me she could track your phone. We found your things on the roof. It wasn’t hard to locate you after that. You weren’t exactly being quiet. After that, I knew you would return to your home.”
I look out at the ruins of my loft and bury my face in Kat’s shoulder. Fresh tears erupt, and shuddering sobs wrack my body once more.
“Kat, I failed. I did something terrible. I…”
Katherine holds me tight and strokes my hair. “You did not fail. You did what you had to, and I forgive you. I will always forgive you.”
We lay in each other’s arms for hours. Kat hums as she holds me, her wordless song slowly reeling me out of the darkness and into the light. I feel Katherine’s body tense. We are not alone, but I cannot muster the will or strength to do anything but stay wrapped in her arms.
“Leonard, are you well?” Vincent asks.
I peer past Kat’s shoulder with one eye and see him and Wyatt standing with their swords drawn but held at their sides a short distance away. I don’t answer, and press my face back into Kat’s bosom.
“He’s fine, no thanks to you,” Kat snaps.
“I am glad to hear it.”
“Are you? I
s that why you came here, just to see if he was okay, or were you coming to kill him if he wasn’t? You did this to him! You knew this would happen!”
“I knew he had the potential should the need arise.”
“The need arose only because you were too much of a coward to fix your own mistake! You know you could have killed Jack yourself, but you chose to send Leo and risked destroying him in the process.”
“And I am sure you know why I had to take that course. I am an elder, and as such, the future of my species falls upon my shoulders. To needlessly risk my existence is the greatest crime our kind can commit. Leonard understands that. It is why he was willing to sacrifice himself. I am very grateful that such an extreme was not required.”
“He sacrificed everything. He suffered more pain in the last day than you can imagine.”
“I knew he had the strength to overcome it.”
Kat’s voice is heavy with contempt. “But you came prepared just in case he did not.”
“The cost of duty can be a heavy one. He and I shall speak more of it when he is ready. I am relieved that he is in capable hands. Good evening, Miss Goldstein.”
I hear several pairs of footsteps walking away. Vincent was prepared to kill me had I not managed to climb back from the abyss. I know I should be angry, but I’m not. Part of it is knowing that he was right for doing so, but mostly I just lack the strength. I close my eyes and allow myself to fall asleep. In a rare show of mercy, the nightmares decide to leave me be.
CHAPTER 29
Trinh controlled the SUV with one hand while trying to keep pressure on Carol’s wound with the other. An IV bag hung from the passenger window and fed fluid into Carol’s veins, but the clotting agent Trinh had used was not stopping the flow, and blood soaked the bandage until it was saturated.
“Did we get him?”
Carol’s voice was weak, and she slurred her words. In the dim light of the car, her skin was so pale it seemed to cast a ghostly white glow.
“Malone is going after him. He’ll get him for you.”
“I hope so. Man, that fucker was so fast.”
“Not fast enough. I’ve got you. You’re going to be okay.”
Carol’s head lolled and clunked against the window. “Too fast.”
Carol’s breath left her body in a long, soft, exhale. Trinh reached across the cab and pressed her finger against Carol’s neck. Her pulse was weak and thready, and her breathing barely registered.
“No!”
Trinh pounded on the steering wheel and honked at everyone in her path. The nearest hospital was too far away, and she knew she was already too late. She jerked the wheel, put the SUV into a skid, and raced down a side street. Two minutes later, she slid to a stop, pulled Carol out of the car, and sprinted inside with her cradled in her arms.
“Trinh, what has happened?” Dr. Birch asked as she hustled toward her.
Trinh pushed past her and ran toward the surgical room. “She’s been stabbed and drained! Do something!”
A pair of Dr. Birch’s assistants ran in behind them. Trinh laid Carol on the bed while Dr. Birch and her team made a hasty examination.
“Sarah, get me some vitals. Ben, check her injuries,” Dr. Birch ordered.
“I don’t have a pulse,” Sarah said.
“Deep puncture to the chest. Possible nick in the aorta,” Ben called out.
“Let’s get her on life support, and pump as much blood into her as we can.” Dr. Birch turned Trinh away as her team worked. “What is it you expect me to do?”
“Save her!”
“She has lost a lot of blood. I’ll have to open her chest to get to the cut, but even then, her chances are poor. I’m afraid my surgical skills are not well-suited to such a delicate task.”
“You can use my blood. That’s what it is for, isn’t it?”
“I have not had time to do anything beyond rudimentary testing with the serum I created from your blood. It may well kill her.”
“But it might save her.”
“It might.”
Trinh glanced at Carol. She looked so small. It felt as though the years they had spent together had not happened and she was just a girl again.
“Do it.”
Dr. Birch punched in a code on a keypad which opened a door that was more like a safe than a medicine cabinet. A brief fog erupted around the open door as the air condensed. The doctor removed a vial and placed it in a warmer before drawing it into a large syringe.
Two bags of blood hung over Carol’s body. Attendants applied pressure to the blood as well as bags of warm saline where the two mixed prior to entering her veins. Dr. Birch looked to Trinh for a moment before sliding the needle into one of the transfusion injection ports and depressed the plunger. It took a full thirty seconds to inject the modified plasma. Dr. Birch stepped back and watched the monitors.
“What now?” Trinh asked.
“We wait.”
Trinh sat next to Carol’s bed and held her hand. It was cold to the touch, like a corpse. Despite the rapid transfusion, she was still far too pale. One of the attendants changed the dressing over her wound when it became soaked with blood for the third time in just the last few minutes. She was losing too much blood. It was like trying to fill a bucket with a hole in the bottom. If they poured fast enough it would fill up, but it quickly ran back out.
Trinh’s head snapped up when various monitors began making noise. “What is it? What’s happening?”
The attendant, Sarah, checked the monitors. “She’s started breathing on her own.” She pressed several buttons and the machines quieted. “We have a pulse. Thirty-two BPM. Forty…forty-six.”
“The bleeding is slowing,” Ben reported.
“BP is ninety over fifty and climbing.”
Dr. Birch clasped Trinh’s shoulder and smiled. “It’s working!”
Trinh squeezed Carol’s hand. “Come on, honey, come back. You’re a fighter. You can beat this.”
“Pulse is eighty and climbing. BP is one-thirty over ninety.” Sarah cast Dr. Birch a concerned look. “Pulse is one-fifty and climbing. BP is one-sixty over ninety…one-seventy over ninety-five. Doctor, we’re losing control.”
“What is it? Is she dying?” Trinh asked, her voice frantic.
Dr. Birch drew another syringe. “It is not unexpected. It is much the same thing that happened to you. The serum will allow her to withstand these rates for a time as long as they do not increase further. If they continue to climb, I will administer a sedative to try and get it back under control.”
The doctor inserted the needle into the injection port but did not administer the sedative. She watched as Carol’s vitals began to ebb until they reached a slightly elevated level but stabilized.
“The bleeding has stopped completely,” Ben announced.
“Her BP, pulse, and oxygen levels are elevated but holding steady,” Sarah added.
“She’s going to be okay?” Trinh asked.
“I think she’s going to be fine,” Dr. Birch answered. “Trinh, this is going to save a lot of lives.”
“A lot of rich lives, you mean.”
“My resources are limited and no one is immune to the laws of supply and demand. Besides, it’s not as though this would ever pass FDA muster. This is, and will likely always be, an illegal endeavor. Such things, no matter how benevolent, rarely reach the general market.”
“Is it going to change her? Will she be…like me now?”
The doctor smiled and shook her head. “No, of course not. The viral agent that created you is not present in the purified serum in sufficient quantities to make the change. She will likely feel anxious, fidgety, and energized for a time, as if she were on a moderate dosage of stimulants, but she’ll normalize soon enough.”
Carol’s eyelids fluttered and opened. She looked vacantly around the room before focusing on Trinh. “Did we get him?”
“I don’t know. You got hurt, and I had to bring you to Dr. Birch.”
Carol�
�s voice grew excited. “Did I get some Hulk juice? Does this mean I can finally punch vampires in the face?”
Dr. Birch laid a hand on her chest. “You got a dose of the serum I made from Trinh’s blood. You are not going to be punching anything for a while, especially not vampires, now or ever.”
“Aw, man…”
“How do you feel?”
“Like shit, but really jazzed about it.”
“You probably feel ready to jump back in the fight—”
“Totally! Trinh, let’s arm wrestle. I bet I can totally kick your ass now!”
“—but you are still recovering from a near-fatal injury. You need to take it easy for at least a few days and no fighting of any kind for a week at a minimum.”
Carol blew Dr. Birch a raspberry. “Screw that. Malone might need our help. I can still shoot, and if that fucker comes at me again, I’ll kick him in his wrinkly old vampire nuts.” Carol’s leg jerked and bent upward. “I’ll be like, bam, have some knee with your crumpets! Shit, that hurt.”
Trinh looked over her shoulder at the doctor. “How long did you say she was going to be like this?”
“Forever, bitch, so you best get used to it!” Carol snapped, then laughed.
“She’ll calm down in a couple of days—I think.”
“You wanna bet?” Carol challenged.
Trinh reached over and depressed the plunger on the sedative. “Sorry, sweetie. I love you, but you need to rest.”
“Oh, you…bitch.”
Carol lost her fight with consciousness and closed her eyes. When she next opened them, it was morning. Trinh still sat next to her bed, her chin tucked against her chest, sleeping. Carol pulled the IV out of her arm and squirted Trinh in the face with saline.
Trinh woke up, sputtering. “What the hell?”
“That’s what you get for Cosbying me, bitch.”
Trinh took the IV line from Carol. “You need that stuff. Not cool.”
“Funny though. Besides, I think I’m full. I have to pee like a racehorse.” She raised her arms and followed the leads hanging off of her to the machines next to her bed. “Can we disconnect all this shit now? I feel like a Cisco IR529 router.”
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