by Janie Marie
A sudden change in wind direction hit her hard. She held her breath and cursed her heightened senses as she fought the urge to throw up.
She’d been so absorbed in watching the unaware group of zombies and trying not to puke, that she didn’t notice David had come closer.
He lifted his hand to her cheek. “I know it smells awful.” It took a tremendous effort on her part not to lean into his hand, and she sighed as she stared up at him.
A faint smile touched his mouth as his thumb caressed her cheek. “You will get used to the stronger smells. Continue breathing out of your mouth—that should help you from feeling too sick.”
Unable to respond, she nodded and wondered how he knew what was bothering her. David smiled before his gaze fell to her lips, and she couldn’t stop herself from looking at his mouth. Before she could scold herself for being so tempted to close the gap between them, he had lowered his hand and stepped back.
Gawain pulled her to his side. “We’ll let you have at them, Jane.”
She gave herself a mental shake and focused on the disgusting scene in front of her. The others flanked her position while David and Arthur stood behind her.
“Start when you are ready,” Gawain said. “They’ll notice our presence rather quickly, but keep shooting. We will be right here, should you require our assistance.”
Jane tuned everyone out and selected her first target. The woman had obviously been dead for quite some time. Her wild black hair stuck up in every direction, and her graying skin stretched tight over her bones. A wicked skeletal smile was visible where her lips had once pressed together. The skin was completely gone on one side of her mouth but that didn’t stop a guttural groan from leaving her.
The sound would have previously made Jane shake, but not anymore. She raised the rifle and aimed.
It was different from using her M9, which she had grown comfortable with, but even without ever using such a weapon, she felt confident when she found her mark. She squeezed the trigger, hitting her target exactly where she’d expected to, and without pausing to even watch the body collapse, she moved on to the next, placing precise kill shots until her magazine was spent.
Finally, her presence was acknowledged. Her victims turned, snarling and letting out raspy groans of hunger. They started toward her, but Jane was in a trance. She changed out cartridges as if she’d been performing the exchange every day of her life. The zombies fell one after another until no more posed a threat.
Lowering her weapon, a satisfied smile spread across her lips. She took in her slaughter, noting the efficiency of her assault. The bodies lay in almost a neat pile. Not one single corpse had come closer than her first kill.
She felt a bubble of happiness at her success and turned to look behind her. Immediately, her eyes met David’s. “How did I do?”
He chuckled and smiled. “Perfect, sweetheart.”
“Perfect?” Gawain shouted. “That was awesome!”
“Thanks.” She grinned, proud of herself and giddy from their praise.
A sound in the streets grabbed their attention, abruptly ending her moment of triumph.
David snatched her elbow and pulled her to his side. “Stay close.”
She nodded back to him as Arthur came to stand next to her, and Gawain positioned himself behind her.
Snarls and growls had her tensing as she searched for the source. She looked around, desperate to locate the oncoming threat. They knew it was coming, but still none of them had laid eyes on their targets.
The sight of Tristan, Bedivere, and Kay running toward them from the south end of the street, and the worried expressions they all had etched across their handsome faces, increased the quickening beat of her heart.
The team moved their positions closer to her. They no longer looked like the carefree men she had been introduced to. These soldiers were frightening monsters. Pale glares had replaced their beautiful gem-colored eyes. They stared down the road, their rifles raised—ready to destroy.
The noise increased, and now Jane could distinguish the sound of heavy footfalls and scrapes brushing against the pavement. She still could not make out what was coming but was relieved when Tristan stopped in front of Arthur.
“Wolves,” Tristan said. “More than we thought.”
Jane sucked in a breath. David reached down and grabbed her hand. “It’s all right.” His strength calmed her fears, but only slightly. This was what they’d been going after, but now it was real.
Tristan briefly glanced at their joined hands. “It’s more than a dozen, David. I counted twenty-five.”
David bared his fangs. “We’ll be fine.”
Jane squeezed his hand, and David darted an agitated glare to her, but softened his look quickly.
“I’ll be okay,” she told him. “Don’t worry.”
“She’ll be fine, David,” said Arthur. “Tristan, get back in formation.”
David looked at her. “Remember what I said?”
“I remember,” she promised. She hoped her terror wasn’t showing. The growls were closer now. She was afraid to look but it was too late to run.
He glanced between her eyes, then nodded to her side. “You have your dagger. Use it if they get to you.”
She nodded repeatedly, scared out of her mind now. “I’ll use it.” Her voice cracked, and so did his hard expression.
“Be brave, Jane. I need you to be brave.”
“Here they come!” Tristan hollered.
She broke eye contact with David and wished she hadn’t.
If she’d thought of the knights and herself as monsters, these beasts were nightmares.
They were much more gruesome than those she’d seen in movies. Most ran upright, reminding her of what she’d thought of as Lycans, while others came at them on all fours, more like a cross between wolves and apes.
It didn’t seem to matter how they ran, their speed made them scarier, and she was frozen in place.
These were true monsters. Their muscles rippled under patches of dark fur. Nothing like beautiful wolves in the wilderness.
Globs of thick saliva dripped from their razor-sharp teeth. Their soulless, black eyes were all fixed on her. She didn’t need to wonder what they might be thinking; the crazed gleam in their black eyes said it all. They wanted to rip her flesh with their bearlike claws, and bathe in her blood as they feasted on what was left of her.
Painful goosebumps erupted across her arms and neck as she began to shake.
Jane’s heart threatened to burst from her chest, and she began to panic more when she looked off in the distance. There were four larger creatures jerking against harnesses held by a more humanoid figure.
She darted her eyes between the man and the four monsters. While he appeared to be a man, the other four were definitely werewolves. But they were not the same as the group running at them. They had clumps of hair clinging to bits of decomposing muscle while ghastly white eyes replaced the onyx pairs the others had.
Her mouth fell open. They’re zombies.
David’s hand closed painfully around hers when she started to hyperventilate. “Now!” he roared and then let go of her.
Then—chaos.
MONSTROUS GROWLS AND GUNSHOTS bounced off the surrounding structures. Everything was louder and more violent than any war movie Jane had ever watched. It occurred to her only a few of them had silencers, as most of the knights’ rifles and handguns fired with loud bangs.
They’d unleashed a hail of gunfire in one direction, but they were now shooting all around them. These new monsters moved at alarming speed, and her group was surrounded in no time. David had told her they were fast, but she wasn’t prepared for this. Her previous targets had moved lazily which made them fairly easy to dispatch as long as you could keep your distance. This was an entirely different ballgame, one she didn’t think she should have been brought along to.
Yet, underneath all the panic, a desire to destroy begged her to let it loose.
With her heart pounding, she
lifted her rifle, aimed, and did not stop shooting. The sound of her own chaotic pulse in her ears muffled the roaring gunfire and snarls, but she didn’t let go of her focus on the fast-moving targets.
Unfortunately, her shots didn’t seem to be effective. She knew her shots were hitting their marks, but wolves wouldn’t go down. As soon as she would hit one, it quickly changed direction, leaving no choice but to switch from one target to another.
Orders were shouted out, but Jane couldn’t understand them. The only thoughts in her head were to shoot and stay with David. She hoped that was all she had to do.
Finally, two wolves fall and remain motionless. Their bodies were littered with shots, revealing the immense resilience these monsters had. There were visible signs of healing, but the blood loss had been too significant for them to recover. Seeing they were indeed inflicting damage on these beasts spurred her thirst for their death.
Out of the corner of her eye, she saw a strong concentration of wolves had broken through the knights’ line. She also noticed Tristan and Bors had exchanged their rifles for the swords. Blade against flesh proved much more effective.
Her knights were powerful and efficient. They were cutting down the wolves quickly now. Unfortunately, her group was still outnumbered.
More knights abandoned their rifles for steel. She realized they were all keeping her at the center of their fight, but one-by-one they were being pulled farther away from her.
The need to stay by David’s side became more evident now. Even though he focused on his targets, he was being mindful of her location the entire time. She didn’t know how she’d made that conclusion, but it seemed something spoke in her mind, a connection of sorts that linked her with everything and everyone around her.
Arthur moved away, which left only Gawain in their company. The count of bodies littered the street, and it seemed they would finish this battle without incident.
Foolish to ever think such a thing.
As if her name had been called, Jane turned her head and saw a figure standing at the end of the street. It was the man she had seen holding the four mutated wolves earlier. He still held the wicked creatures on their leads as they snapped and thrashed in their harnesses, but he remained in complete control.
Jane wished she couldn’t see so well now. His dark eyes moved between her and David, and he smirked, catching David’s attention.
Jane’s skin crawled when he focused on her again. There was an evilness in him she’d encountered before, and dread consumed her heart when his haunting eyes roamed over her face and body before he gave David a knowing look.
David’s posture changed, and his movements became more violent. She knew he saw everything she’d just seen.
He knows him, she thought, and she gasped as a second thought manifested. This is Lancelot.
David started to take aim at him, but a high-pitched whistle rang out and suddenly they were flanked on both sides by more wolves than she could count. “Shit.”
Jane’s confidence began to fade. The air shifted as if Doom had thrown itself over them. She pressed her trembling body against David’s.
“Keep shooting, Jane. We’re still okay.”
They weren’t okay, though. She knew he was only saying what he had to.
David aimed his rifle at Lancelot and fired a single shot. Lancelot ducked it and let out a sadistic laugh before releasing the four beasts in his grasp.
They had already struck terror into her heart, and now they charged right at her. She could hardly breathe as their pale, corpse-like eyes settled solely on her.
David turned his entire attack on them. If the original werewolves had been difficult to destroy, these mutations would be near impossible to bring down.
The others were already heavily engaged, and many were taking on two or more at a time. So far, the knights didn’t appear to have serious injuries, though you could see rips in clothing and taste their blood in the air. The battle was too close now; hand to hand was inevitable.
Her sharp breaths started to burn her lungs when Gawain left her side, and she pressed herself against David’s back even more. She was absolutely scared to death. If being eaten by zombies wasn’t scary enough, now she had to add infected werewolves to her nightmares.
“Jane!” David hollered. “Aim for the infected wolves. Don’t stop shooting.”
She was shaking. “I am.”
“Just keep shooting. We’ll make it.”
“David, I’m running out of ammo.”
She was terrified. They were so big compared to her—compared to all of them. What would she do if they got too close? Would the werewolves eat her alive? Would she be strong enough to fight them off for a little bit?
The others received slashes from the huge claws of the wolves. If they were receiving wounds, she stood no chance.
David pulled the last clip from his belt and slid it inside her waistband. “This is the last one I have,” he told her quickly. “As soon as I’m out, I have to use my sword. Switch to your gun as soon as you’re out. When that’s out, be ready with your sword but stay close. Whatever happens, do not go after them.”
Listening to his instructions, she pulled the last magazine for her rifle. Just thirty rounds. The fight was so scattered now; there was no way for her to isolate anyone. Her knights were overwhelmed, particularly Tristan, who was taking on an infected wolf as well as two others. Jane wasn’t sure which opponent was worse, but Tristan was doing very well on his own. He was nearly as good as Arthur.
He seemed to be the busiest knight at the moment, so she concentrated on that particular, infected wolf with the last of her ammo. Hitting her mark seemed pointless. The monster just wouldn’t fall.
Seemingly out of nowhere, a flame ignited around Tristan. The immense heat could be felt all the way across the field where they fought. The wolves in front of Tristan caught fire before she could blink. Her mouth dropped open in amazement; the flame had come from Tristan’s free hand. He still swung his blade to deliver the final blows with a frightening roar over his victory. Mangled bodies fell in a charred heap by his feet. The smell of burning fur and flesh reached her quickly, but she held back a gag and swallowed the bile trying to rise in her throat.
A loud yell of pain had Jane turning. She knew the voice belonged to Gawain. He was limping, but it wasn’t slowing him down. With perfect timing, he side-stepped the wolf he had been fighting, and swinging his sword, he removed the monster’s massive head from its body.
She smiled, proud of her new friend, but her smile fell when she felt David move away.
“Stay close, Jane,” David said, pulling his sword.
She nodded, panicking now as she put the last clip into her M9 and began shooting. David was moving farther away. She followed but pulled back when the swarm began closing around him.
He battled ferociously. His violent gaze darted in her direction often, but he didn’t slow his fight. He was a ruthless warrior, and had she not known his tenderness, she would have feared him.
Jane didn’t understand why the wolves surrounded him so quickly. It was as if they had been ordered to focus solely on him. Like they wanted him away from everyone else—away from her.
She breathed faster when Lancelot entered the pack attacking David. Her anxiety calmed a little when he didn’t immediately attack, but she was still worried. Although Lancelot appeared human, he was clearly no mere mortal.
A sinister smile stretched over Lancelot’s lips, and his dark eyes gleamed wickedly under the moonlight. She might have considered him handsome, but there was an undeniable vindictiveness in him when he looked David in the eye. He wanted her vampire to suffer.
Lancelot said something to David suddenly, and the vampire roared, shouting words she couldn’t understand. Then they fought.
Their battle was fierce. Lancelot was skilled, but David was better. Yes, her handsome vampire was stronger, faster and more controlled with each attack he delivered or deflected. He was violently bea
utiful. She could watch him all day, but her brief admiration of her maker ceased quicker than it started.
In horrifying unison, the werewolves’ heads turned in her direction.
“Shit!” she screeched, firing until her last round was spent.
Gawain and Arthur had tried to come to her aid, but the wolves were already isolating her. She had to fight.
Without thinking, she pulled her sword. The cold steel felt pleasant against her fingers. She squeezed her grip, and a strange familiarity touched her mind. She felt almost as though she’d been reunited with an old friend. She didn’t let her fascination sidetrack her. A part of her awareness switched off, and she just acted.
Her attacks were swift and accurate. The power behind each swing was unimaginable. Jane was angry, though, and her strikes became wild. Still, she hit her targets with devastating force. She was keeping them at bay for now. If she could just hold her ground, the knights would soon join her.
Thankfully, Gawain was almost close enough to touch her. She opened her mouth to thank him, but he was tackled from the side and dragged off.
“No!” she screamed and realized she could no longer see him.
The wolves were keeping her knights away from her.
Her anger increased. The sounds of blades cutting into flesh and bone, along with an occasional grunt from her companions, filled the gaps between growls. All of it, especially David’s yells for her pushed her emotions into overload.
Tears blurred her vision, but strangely, she wasn’t scared for herself anymore. David, the knights, and her family were the only ones she worried about.
“Jane!” David yelled.
A sharp sting shot through her free arm, and she screamed. Blood quickly soaked through her sleeve from the large gash running down her arm. It hurt a lot, but she let out a fierce snarl and cut into the beast that had scratched her.
She cut off its hand and then ran her sword through its throat. Black blood dripped on her hand where she gripped her sword. She yanked free and watched it drop to the ground with a sickening smack.
Her impressive kill didn’t register in her mind yet. The wolves were dwindling, but another infected wolf was already attacking her, while the rest continued to hold off her knights.