by Karen Greco
Vampires have superhuman strength, but a vampire on Berserker blood? I felt invincible. I was invincible.
I powered through at least a dozen guards and didn't even break a sweat. Then I came face to face with Leila. A sick smile spread on her face.
There were no more secrets in the room now. There was no doubt that I walked among the undead. No doubt that Max was a Berserker.
"Interesting," she said, her voice barely a whisper. I felt the wheels of her bioengineering brain turn in every subtle shift of movement that my vamp-enhanced senses picked up.
I shifted my body so that I was between her and Max, who had gone from Berserker to blood-drained human passed out on the floor. With Max's blood coursing through me, I shivered and tingled, telling me that I wasn't only borrowing his physical strength. My fingers itched to throw a spell, see if Berserker blood affected my magic too. But Leila was already looking at the two of us like a science project.
Her eyes shifted to Dr. O, who was still heaped on the floor, his battered, bloody body barely hanging on. She still had the blade, and Dr. O still had Druid magic to syphon. I shifted my form to block her view of him, but she just turned her attention to Max again. Crap.
"So many choices," she cooed, lips twitching up into a cold smile, showing her fangs. "Who shall I choose?" She eeny, meeny, miny, moed with the knife.
There was only one way to end this. I dove towards her, pulling back at the last minute as she swept the blade across my middle. A long slice ripped through my clothes and into my skin, drawing blood. A small jolt of magic jumped from my body into the knife. The power was visible, moving like blue lightning, as it climbed up the hilt and into in her hand. Her eyes went wide.
I football tackled her just as she made her move towards Max, knocking the knife out of her hands. I heard the metal skitter along the floor and I hoped it was out of her reach. With both hands free, her fingers twisted and her lips moved, throwing a silent curse at me. The hint of Berserker power behind it sent me reeling back as a stabbing pain ripped through my skull. I pressed my fingers into my head and tossed off what was either a half-assed healing charm or a spell to boil water. Either the pain would disappear or my brain would boil like a ham hock.
Instead, nothing happened. But my racing metabolism diluted her spell enough to pull me out of my stupor. I charged her again, this time plunging my sharp claws into her side. I flung Leila aside, away from Max, a chunk of her flesh ripping off as momentum severed her skin from my razor-sharp nails.
She pressed her hand to her side and removed it. The skin around her abdomen was raw, but it healed over instantly. Another curse hit me, and I was slammed against the wall behind Max by invisible arms. With the ache in my head subsiding, my focus was better. I countered her curse with my own spell.
"Solutus!" I cried. The word was barely off my lips when I was dropped on my ass, surprised that it actually worked.
Leila scowled as I scrambled to my feet. "Well, aren't you a right little monster."
"Apple doesn't fall far, does it?" I shot back while we circled each other
"You make Mommy proud," she said, her luminous eyes flashing venom.
Her hands began working as she prepped another spell to throw at me. Against her, my novice magic was practically useless in the iron-covered room. I needed to take Leila down the vampire way.
I hauled my body towards her and shoved my arm into Leila’s mouth before she could finish the spell. Her fangs sunk into my forearm and I felt her voice box vibrate as she tried to finish the incantation around a mouthful of my flesh. I closed my free hand around her throat, cutting off the sound before she could utter it. But it was too late. Her spell hit me right in the gut, sending me flying across the room. I landed with a splat against the wall, then slid down, stunned.
Through my brain fog, I saw Leila move for the witch blade. I hurled myself forward, tackling her at the knees. She nailed a solid donkey kick to the side of my face before she sprawled on the ground. I snatched her by the leg as her forward momentum continued towards the knife. Her fingertips tickled the hilt as I hauled her back towards me. I heard her mutter another spell and her leg turned to molten lava. I yelped in pain and dropped it, watching the third degree burn blisters bubble up on my bare hands before my vamp healing kicked in.
The curse gave Leila just enough time to reach the knife. I sprinted towards her, chasing her down before she could snatch it, but she was too close. There was no way I'd reach the blade before she did. Instead, I dove past Leila and wrapped my body around Dr. O just as she plunged the knife at him, shielding him with my body. The blade burned as it entered my lower back, and I gasped as I felt a rush of power spill out of me. The knife vibrated so hard it picked up a tone. Leila's sharp intake of breath told me that my magic was flowing into her.
"I hope it hurts you like a bitch, too," I muttered under my own pain.
Before she could respond, the room was rocked with an explosion, and the few guards that remained were tossed from their station by the cellblock's door. Glass shattered, followed by stone, sheetrock and metal tumbling from the far wall. The room filled with a fine, grey dust. Several long, low honks echoed through the room.
"Nina?!" Al's voice bellowed through the mayhem. "Where the hell you hiding?"
I squinted, a pair of headlights beaming into my eyes and the shape of the box truck coming into focus. I burst out laughing, choking on the acrid dust as it settled around us.
Leila swore and twisted the knife in deeper. The snake tattoo rattled and hissed, writhing under my skin as it held onto my mojo. A sticky wetness covered my back but the original rush of power from my body slowed to a trickle.
How the hell was I beating the blade?
The sound of the truck's backdoor sliding open was followed by footfalls landing hard on the cement floor. An almost unrecognizable Lincoln, the large Alpha from Moose Cabin, fought his way through the wreckage, tossing the large boulders that made up the old walls like they were nothing more than stone. I cringed at his half-turned appearance — a wolf-like torso with human appendages, a human mouth with large, yellow wolf teeth, a bulging forehead, and mix fur and human skin quilting its way around his body.
It wasn’t a full moon, so their transformation to wolf was limited. They almost looked more frightening this way.
"Go find the wolves!" I yelled at him, which turned into a groan as a new stab of pain lurched through my back.
Leila forced the knife in deeper, as if that would kick-start the flow of magic. The snake undulated on my skin and my magic didn't budge. Leila shrieked in frustration and yanked the knife out of me. I winced again. The blade clattered to the floor and I saw that it was charred black and rendered useless. I panted, eyes tracking Leila, while my body knitted itself together. She turned in a circle, surveying the damage. She grinned at me, and I shivered.
"Quite the mess you've made," she said, her eyes glowing. Standing straighter, the air crackled around her. I tensed up, hoping I'd have enough time to deflect whatever spell she was readying.
"Hello, daughter." Gramps’ voice came from behind the truck. Then he stepped through the path that Lincoln had cleared through the rubble. "I thought you were dead."
"Daddy," she cooed. Her smile chilled everything in the room. "I thought I smelled that backwoods magic of yours."
"You're using an awful lot of that backwoods magic yourself," he said, barely cocking an eyebrow.
"You taught her well," she said, giving me a brief nod. "But not well enough."
"You murdered my daughter," he said. His voice went soft and the lines on his face looked deeper and more drawn as he remembered Babe.
"She didn't like you," Leila hissed.
"She was afraid of the dark magic," he said. "And was right to be. You could have used a little of that fear yourself."
Leila cackled. "Fear it? Please. I wield it. It does my bidding."
"Hmmm," he said, moving his head in a slow nod. "You don't respect it,
child. To respect it, you need to fear it. And not respecting its danger? That's your undoing."
She glared at him as her small hands began to turn in on themselves, her deft fingers working around a complicated spell. Her hair began to lift from the electricity running through her body while her lips formed a silent curse. Gramps was at the ready with his own spell, quicker with experience at throwing it. Whatever he tossed at her, she took it right in the gut, doubling over at the force of the magic. Her breath was ragged as she stuttered out a reversal spell. When she raised her head, her lips were a faint blue. Damn. Gramps threw a death spell at her. It only failed because the iron was taming his considerable power. The witch was not playing.
But neither was Leila. Her voice shrilled through the room as she landed her own spell. Gramps suddenly dropped to one knee, a wrinkled hand clutching at his chest. Gore rose in my throat as the old man's face went from beet red to a grey pallor. While she didn't get all of it, she was still juiced on some of my magic, and her constant chanting made the spell hard for him to break.
"Who's undoing is it now, old man?" she crowed as he gasped for air.
I snatched a piece of rebar poking through the smashed wall. It still had a hunk of cement attached to one end. Holding it like a baseball bat, I swung it at Leila. Between the weight of the makeshift weapon and the vamped up velocity of my swing, the rebar flew from my hands and headed directly towards her. She dropped to the ground at the last minute, the rebar just missing her and embedding itself into the far wall. But the distraction meant that she released her magical grip on Gramps. He slumped to the floor, unconscious. Bounding towards her, I took a leap just as she brought herself up from her knees. We both went tumbling to the ground, arms and legs twisting as we rolled from impact.
I heard her faint voice, barely a whisper, and knew she was spelling. Untangling myself from her limbs, I sent a sloppy punch that landed across her cheek just as I tumbled backwards. She scrambled up from the floor, pitching her body at me before I could stand. Leila pressed her knees into my chest.
I looked up at my biological mother into eyes exactly like mine. Same shape, same vibrant green color. My snake tattoo rattled a warning as Leila pushed out another spell. I reached my right arm up and gripped my hand around her neck. Squeezing, I pushed my body up while she tried to maintain her balance on my chest. Whatever spell she wanted to hit me with was temporarily squashed.
Her knees still balanced on my chest, I dropped my back to the floor, then levered up my legs, using momentum to push me upright and send Leila off of me. The element of surprise meant I landed on my feet while she was left sprawled on her ass. My triumph was short-lived, however, as she started to spell again.
"Can't this woman stop with the damn spelling?" I grumbled. The energy she raised pricked at the hairs along the back of my neck. I kicked out at her, my frustration landing in her solar plexus. She snatched my ankle and yanked me down. I twisted as I fell, taking the impact with my hip rather than my tailbone. I released a string of curses — salty language, not spells — at a maneuver I should have evaded. Even though Leila's real source of power was her magic, she was still a vampire. And my rising frustration made me sloppy.
I didn't have the right gear to fell a vampire, so I had to knock her ass out. Vamps were much easier to kill than drop. Add the witchy stuff into it, and I understood why Leila created the hybrid in the first place. Getting both under control was damn hard. I had to shut off her ability to spell, but so far I was only successful in interrupting the onslaught.
I pulled myself into a crouch. I wasn't going to beat her as a witch, but with the Berserker blood coursing through me, I could take her down as a vampire. Leila was spelling again, and this time I allowed the force of her magic to slam into me. I felt it light my insides on fire. The burning started in the pit of my stomach and radiated out from there, through my very soul. A hiccup escaped me and a puff of smoke slipped from my lips. I choked on the scent of my own entrails burning. I gritted my teeth, more from disgust than pain, and hoped that the burn wounds festered only briefly before my Berserker-enhanced speed healing kicked in. Because that was just gross.
Once I felt my body begin to heal, I exploded out of my crouched position and rushed her like a defensive end. The sound of her "oomph" on impact was satisfying. I knocked Leila off-balance and carried her body ten feet until I slammed her back into a wall. Her eyes bugged out at me, and I smiled, smoke still trickling out of my mouth in sporadic intervals. I pressed my right forearm against her throat, pinning her against the wall. I blew a smoke ring in her face, and smiled.
"Nina, catch!" Gramps shouted, tossing me Leila's charred witch blade. I snatched it, one handed, from the air. The weapon was useless to syphon her power, but it was still sharp enough to send into her heart.
I pressed the blade’s tip against her chest. Saliva dripped from the corners of my mouth. I waited, not sure for what. For her to tremble in fear? For her to apologize for being a shitty mom? For her to bring Babe back from the dead? Instead, her lips twisted into a smile.
"What the hell are you waiting for?!" Gramps yelled. "Stick her with the damn knife!"
I pulled the knife back but hesitated again when she lifted her chin in defiance. Realization threatened to overpower me. She didn't think I could do it.
My body surged with power as my anger rose. Without hesitation, I slammed the knife into her heart. She let out a surprised squeak from the force of the blow. I pressed my forehead against hers and stared at her eyes as life began to bleed out.
"The storm's coming." Her whisper was followed by a small throaty chuckle. The blood pooled in her mouth, dripped down her lower lip. "And it's going to break you. It's going to break all of you."
Her head fell to the side and she closed her eyes. I yanked out the blade, hoping it was sharp enough to take off her head. But Max's strong hand grabbed my forearm just as I swung the first hack at her neck. To be truly dead, her head had to come off. Then she'd turn into a pile of dust and ash.
"What are you doing?" I seethed. "I have to finish this."
He shook his head and tried to pry the knife from my grip. "We need her alive."
"Alive?" I repeated, strengthening my grip on the knife. "What kind of sick game are you playing?"
"She's gonna wake up," Gramps warned from behind us.
"It's not a game," Max said, his voice even. I noticed he was wearing part of a bloodied guard uniform. The pants hung low on his hips, shirt unbuttoned, showing off an impressive set of abs. "Colton needs her alive."
"Mary Jane?" I asked. What they hell did the U.S. government want with Leila?
“And where are we supposed to put her?” Frankie’s voice echoed through the now quiet room as he climbed over the mess of concrete, stone and rebar. "Sorry I’m late, love. Good god, what the hell did they do to him?" He dropped to his knees beside an unnaturally still Dr. O.
Tears warmed my eyes as I watched Frankie cradle Dr. O's limp body. I turned to Max. "You can’t hold her. She can magic or vamp her way out of this prison."
"Bertrand said he had a place to contain her," Max said. "She can't get out."
"What's the point of keeping her alive, Max?" I ask, itching to bite someone, anyone, as my frustration grew. His was the closest neck. "We can't trust Bertrand. Or Colton," I added, glancing at Leila's face when I thought I saw her eyes flutter.
"Put that damn knife back in her heart," Gramps hollered. He saw it too. "Goddamn amateurs."
I knocked my elbow into Max's face, hitting his eye, and then stuck the knife back into Leila's heart.
"Thank you," Max said, blinking a few times. He clamped iron manacles on Leila's wrists.
"Those won't completely neuter her magic. She's too good a witch for that," I warned, thinking about her strong spell crafting in a room surrounded by the metal. Her magic was too strong to rely on the usual safety measures. "And if you pull that blade out, you'll have the vampire to contend with."
&nbs
p; "Leila’s not as good with the vampire," Max said. "She's not as comfortable with brute force as you."
I scowled. "But she's still a vampire. Don't underestimate her, Max. And don't let Bertrand get cocky."
Frankie lifted Dr. O up off the floor. "We've got to get him out, love. He needs medical attention."
"Where are the wolves?" I asked, turning my back to Leila and Max. She was his problem now.
"They're in the truck," Gramps said. "That Masshole werewolf shuttled them into the back while you were beating my daughter's human sheep senseless."
I nodded at him. "Can the witches ride with them? Or have the werewolves turned?" I suppressed a nervous giggle at the irony of breaking the witches out of certain death only to lose them because we stupidly housed them with a bunch of turned werewolves.
"The ones that are turned are in no shape to kill anyone," Lincoln said, coming around the back of the truck. "They're barely alive themselves."
Gramps shuffled around the bodies piled on the floor, liberating a set of keys clipped to a bloodied guard's belt loop. "I'll go free the witches."
"You make sure those wolves don't snack on our people," I said to Lincoln. "I doubt the witches have enough magic left in them to fight off a rabid dog."
He gave me a curt nod before disappearing behind the truck again. I walked away from Leila, leaving Max to deal with her, and made my way over to Frankie. He looked at me, pain etched in the slight lines around his eyes. "I don't know if he's going to make it," he said, his voice barely above a whisper. "He's lost a lot of magic, and that’s what kept him alive for almost as long as me."
I blinked back tears and looked at the old man's noble face. "If he must, at least he'll die with the people who love him, and not alone on a cold slab of iron."
Frankie's jaw tensed at my words but he kept silent, and I understood his pain, born of grief. Mortality bothered vampires more than it bothered humans. Vampires literally lusted after life, and before I engaged with my dormant witch, I found the idea of death almost unbearable. But with the witch serving as a grounding force, death didn't strike me as so permanent anymore.