Luna’s eyes were like two green, glowing pearls. She dropped the bone in her mouth and rose out of the water on two legs. After a few seconds, she grasped the dripping strands of her fur and bowed in a mock-curtsy. “Mr. Gray.”
Dorian responded with a snarl, then exploded through the water. Luna dropped below the lake’s surface just as he reached her. Gouging out swaths of the murky liquid, he searched frantically for her. A splash near the shoreline revealed her dripping hide and he gave chase as she crawled up onto the muddy sand.
She fell to all fours and fled south towards a massive building of iron and glass. The Crystal Palace. Crashing through the front door, Luna ran alongside the aeronautical machines and engines on display for the Royal Aeronautical Society’s exhibition.
Hot in pursuit, Dorian’s claws slid across the concrete floor and he smashed into an old aluminum triplane with a steam engine. The chassis crumpled on impact, trapping him for a moment directly in front of F.H. Wenham’s original wind tunnel.
Instead of using the valuable seconds to escape, as Dorian took to peel back the bent metal and free himself, Luna paused to switch on the massive wind tunnel. She sidled along its tunnel-like length as the engine reached full power. Caught directly in the machine’s path, Dorian was battered backwards by the forceful wind it generated.
Luna jumped on top of the high tube and then up towards the wooden basket of a crimson hot-air balloon suspended above it. The wood split as her claws sunk into the wood and her hind legs fell back, leaving her dangling in the air.
Dorian was pinned between the triplane and the wind tunnel. He roared in anger. With astounding strength, he ripped out the steam engine from the crushed plane, heaving it at his foe as she tried to scramble upward. The dynamo struck her full in the back, sending her crashing into the wind tunnel below, destroying the machine and cutting off the gale-force tempest.
Dragging her free of the wreckage, Dorian opened his jaws and placed his teeth over Luna’s throat. “You will not hunt humans in my domain.”
Her eyelids blinked, the only movement she dared to make. “Why? We are the true predators and they are but sheep.”
He growled deep in the back of his throat. “This is your last warning.” His fangs sunk slightly into her fur.
Luna’s eyes blazed with fury, but she whimpered. “As you say.”
Dorian released her and stood up. Perhaps he could control her after all.
CHAPTER 20.
T
HE CRYSTAL PALACE
Four shadowy figures crossed the Serpentine Bridge as a thick fog descended on Hyde Park. Sage, Van Helsing, and Inspector Clarke had traveled together to the spot in Sage’s vision where she knew that Luna would be.
The Inspector carried his double-barreled shotgun and percussion revolver. Rather than standard shotgun shells, Van Helsing had emptied the buckshot from the casings and filled it instead with a mixture of magnesium and Demon Fire. Once fired, the shot burned instantly upon contact with the air, sending out a spout of fire from the weapon—as if from the mouth of an enraged dragon. After witnessing the destruction of its bite, they had named the new ammunition Demon Spit.
Van Helsing wore his long sword, throwing knives, and his repeating crossbow slung across his back. The weapon was loaded with 220-grain lead bolts ending in a hollow tip to deliver the maximum amount of damage. But Sage was the deadliest of the three by far, without the need to carry any weapons.
Majaris emerged from the darkness, following Sage’s telepathic instructions to join them on the bridge. “It’s about time you three turned up,” she chided. She carried a long steel-chain whip ending in a vicious spike on the tip that Van Helsing had constructed to be both lightweight and deadly. As an extra precaution, he had dipped the entire length of it in holy water. Sage had been embarrassed, but eventually relented to Van Helsing’s urging that she add in a mixture of her spit to the coating. Who could say what impact it might have upon dark creatures.
“I was about to go in without you.” Coiled around Majaris’s shoulder, the end of the whip dangled as a snake might from a tree. Majaris wore a hood to cover her face, but Van Helsing could still see the delicate marks on her skin from the chemical burns she had suffered. Sage had healed her broken legs easily enough, but the acid had sunken too deeply into the flesh to be fully repaired. He fingered the scars on his own face. They now shared a common reminder of their hatred for the accursed Vârcolac.
“Remember the plan,” said Van Helsing. “We kill her as quickly as possible before she has time to heal or escape.” The other three nodded silently.
The ruined entryway of the looming Crystal Palace announced that their quarry had already arrived. A crash came from the inside of the building originally built for the Great Exhibition. More resided inside than just simple exhibits on show for the public.
Van Helsing signaled for stealth. He prompted the Inspector and Majaris to move forward into a flanking position. Two fingers and a fist indicated that he and Sage would attack from the center. Van Helsing raised his repeating crossbow and ran up the center steps with Sage trailing close behind.
The inside of the building was a ruin, the displays smashed and thrown to the floor. Instead of finding only Luna, they came upon her and the grey male werewolf. He was standing above her in the center of the room surrounded by planes and engines. The Inspector fired instantly.
“Wait—” Sage’s words came too late.
A plume of fire struck Dorian in the ribs, showering Luna and everything around them in sparks. Dorian fell to the ground, rolling in agony as he tried to extinguish the flames. Luna leaped to her full height on her hind legs, roaring as she charged. She only gained a few steps before the steel spike from Majaris’ whip wrapped around her neck, plunging deep into the sinew above the she-wolf’s clavicle. That would not have been enough to stop her attack, had Majaris not anchored the chain around a large engine block. The chain held her in place, stopping her advance. Luna grunted, then howled in agony as the holy water and spit began to burn. Where the chain touched her, the fur died and fell away. The skin around her neck first began to melt, then started to boil.
Dorian rose unsteadily to his feet and took one of the bolts from Van Helsing in the chest. The lead tip deformed on impact, sending some of the shards to crack his ribs, while others passed completely through his body and exited out the back, leaving a gaping hole in their wake.
Van Helsing crouched to fire again as Dorian fell to the ground gasping, but Sage conjured a gust of wind that knocked the crossbow from his hands with a word.
“Leave the grey werewolf to me,” she said. “He is not to be killed.”
“No! We must kill them both, they—”
Luna tore the metal propeller from a nearby plane and threw it spinning through the air at Majaris. She ducked, releasing her hold on the whip’s handle. The propeller hit its true target, cutting into the engine block and loosening the chain.
Luna’s paws smoked as she tore the metal links off and threw them to the ground with a growl. She fell to all fours and rushed towards Majaris.
“Look out!” Van Helsing forgot his crossbow and drew his knives, sending them spinning at Luna before giving chase.
The Inspector aimed his Demon Spit shotgun at Dorian once more. Sage had to decide which friend to help. She summoned the same blast of air used to disarm the hunter, this time creating a wall that deflected the plume of fire that shot from the Inspector’s weapon.
The knives had not slowed down Luna as she barreled toward Majaris. Seeing the impending threat, the woman turned and began to climb onto the wing of a large, wooden biplane.
“Inspector!” Sage yelled, pointing. “Help her.”
Luna reached the biplane and set to tearing apart the wings as Majaris crawled across to the other side.
The Inspector reloaded and fired, this time hitting Luna with a fountain of fire. She spun around, halting her attack as flames rose on her back and shoulders. She fel
l with a whimper to the ground and began rolling in torment as she attempted to extinguish the blaze.
Van Helsing drew his longsword, preparing a decapitating blow—until Dorian slammed into him, sending the hunter skidding backwards.
“Dorian, stop!” Sage prepared a spell to freeze him in his tracks.
Majaris had recovered her whip and now spun it cracking over her head before lashing it around Dorian’s torso. He rumbled in pain as the spike buried deep into his stomach.
Van Helsing found his balance once more, swinging his sword in a mighty arc. Dorian caught the blade in his claws, but suddenly dropped to his knees as the whip began to sizzle and burn his flesh. Van Helsing took one hand off his sword and drew a glass-tipped bolt from a lead-lined case strapped to his hip—one filled with Demon Fire. “Your kind ends tonight!”
With a curse, Sage turned her spell of immobility upon Van Helsing and causing him to freeze—or so she thought. Impossibly, the man turned to glare at her. The patch on his face had fallen off, revealing a demonic red eye glowering hatred.
Sage called upon her power again, but found it somehow beyond her grasp. Something in that fiery gaze was disrupting her abilities. That eye was unnatural.
Van Helsing turned back to Dorian, preparing to end the werewolf, but a smoking Luna flung herself at him, slashing the Demon Fire from his hand. The bolt smashed against an engine block and ignited with a loud whoosh. The surrounding area burst into liquid flame. The wooden planes and kites went up like matchsticks. In seconds the entire room was nearly consumed in a budding inferno.
Facing the unbearable heat, Sage and the Inspector fell back towards the entrance. They escaped out the front as the flames spread. Luna snarled, seeing her opportunity as she pulled the burning steel whip from Dorian’s abdomen in a spray of blood. Dragging him to his feet, the werewolves slid across the debris-strewn floor before crashing through the nearest window and landing on the grass outside. The fire spread across the floor, following the path of the fleeing creatures and cutting off any hope of pursuit.
“Majaris!” Van Helsing yelled to her. She was now cornered against the wall with the fire crowding her on all sides. Smoke filled the room. She coughed violently as she crouched low to the floor, desperately seeking fresh air.
Van Helsing flung off his cape and smashed the cap on one of the steam engines, letting the water inside soak the fabric. He used his demon eye to pull the curse close about himself in a tight circle of protection. Wrapping the wet garment around his face and chest, he ran through the fire. It seemed impossible for anyone to make it to help Majaris, but the flames themselves seemed almost to shy away from him.
Majaris was unconscious by the time he reached her. He quickly removed the damp cape and spread it over her, extinguishing the flames and embers devouring her hair. Unbearable heat surrounded them on all sides. Van Helsing’s vision grew blurry and the smoke choked his lungs. A sudden glimmer caught his eye. He leaned down and retrieved the metal whip, ignoring the pain as the heated handle burned his own skin. With a roar of defiance, he lifted Majaris over his shoulder and flung the tail of the whip upwards towards the second-floor railing. The spiked tip wound around the railing and held. He tested the weight, then took two steps forward and swung out over the fire, releasing his whip to hurtle through the same hole the creatures had made.
A safe distance away, she cast a healing spell on Majaris as the Crystal Palace burned to the ground. As the worst of the wounds slowly closed up, Sage seemed satisfied as the still unconscious woman began to breathe easily. The Inspector had gone to summon a fire brigade, hoping to prevent the blaze from consuming the entire park.
Not even the Demon Fire could damage Van Helsing’s Damascus steel sword. After the fire began to smolder, he had gone back to retrieve it from the ruined building before joining them once more. He held up his hand as she turned to heal him. “I’ll live. What the hell were you doing in there?” He sheathed his longsword over his back.
Sage glowered. “I told you not to kill the grey werewolf.”
Glancing down at Majaris, Van Helsing produced another patch and strapped it over his right eye. “And I told you both I was sworn to destroy any Vârcolac I come across. Why wouldn’t you want it dead?” He took out a small container and began applying a pungent smelling salve to his burned hand.
Her fingers twitched at her sides. “There are some secrets you have been keeping as well; like what was under that eye patch of yours?”
Van Helsing shrugged. “I won’t let anyone stop me. Even someone as powerful as you.”
Sage readied a spell in case he tried to attack her. She wondered if she would be able to stop him if he did come at her.
Van Helsing paused, noticing her defensive posture. “Thank you for healing Majaris.”
She looked down at her friend. “Thank you for pulling her out of the fire.”
He bowed his head. “Tell her I am sorry.”
“For what?” Sage asked.
“That our partnership is at an end.” He retrieved his singed cape and threw it over his shoulders. It was ragged and filled with holes.
The man seemed to truly care for Majaris. “You are leaving then?” Sage relaxed her hands and let the brewing spell dissipate.
The scarred and burned face smiled back at her. “I hunt better alone. Don’t get between me and my kill again.” With that warning, he turned to follow the tracks of the two monsters across the park.
Majaris awoke in pain as the Inspector returned with the fire brigade and formed them into a bucket line stemming from the shoreline of the Serpentine. She sat up winching and watched the men work as they efficiently drew buckets of water. They passed them hand-over-hand to finally be thrown on the brush and buildings surrounding the twisted metal husk of the Crystal Palace. The Inspector shouldered his part of the work, rolling up his sleeves to work in the line as the men tried to contain the fire he had helped to create.
“What happened?” Majaris asked finally.
Sage felt suddenly cold. “You passed out from the smoke. Van Helsing barely pulled you out.”
Majaris tried to rise, but she frowned and stayed where she was. “I meant with Van Helsing. Did you cast a spell on him?”
Sage walked over and pulled her to a standing position. “I tried to.”
“What do you mean tried?” Majaris asked.
Sage pulled her friend in close and hugged her. “That man is more dangerous than either of us thought. He can disrupt my magic. His patched eye holds a powerful dark magic.”
Majaris looked around slowly. “Where has he gone?”
Sage sighed. “To hunt the creatures alone.”
“We can’t let him do that!”
“Majaris, I know he means something to you, but you must stay away from Van Helsing.”
Majaris pulled back from Sage. “You should understand. Dorian needs your help, and he needs mine.”
“I need you,” Sage said.
“No,” Majaris shook her head, “You have grown far beyond needing my help. Mergi cu bine, Shuvani.”
Sage saw that she was determined. “Ramas bun, Majaris.” She pulled her close once more and the two touched foreheads in farewell.
CHAPTER 21.
P
ART WAYS AT DAWN
Van Helsing followed the pair of tracks through the park for close to an hour. The pair of wolves were moving slower than usual. That was good. It meant they were badly injured. As he entered the Kensington gardens, the frequent sightings of spots of blood began to decrease. They were healing. He needed to catch them soon!
He treated his own wounds as best he could, dabbing an aromatic salve and wrapping the ugliest sores in bandages. He kept moving, following signs leading him towards Holland Park and on to Ravenscourt. His breathing steadied and the burning on his skin seemed to fade. He wondered again if the demon magic lent him some unnatural vitality. Nothing on the scale of the healing power Sage or the Vârcolacs had at their disposal o
f course, but something that made him stronger than most men. Like everything in his life, he wondered what cost would be demanded in return.
As the sun rose brilliantly over the hills, his thoughts turned again to Majaris. She was better off to be free of him.
Suddenly, he came across a strange sight. The footprints stopped. The creatures had paused here for a time. There were strange scuffs on the ground, as if they had rolled around. Mating? No, there was no rhyme or reason for this pattern. Towards the edge of the clearing, the tracks changed—growing smaller and more human-like. Further on there were only a man and woman’s footprints. They had returned to their human form.
The prints seemed to part ways, the man continuing to the right towards the Wormwood, and the woman circling around towards Hammersmith. Had she doubled back to ambush him? He had few weapons left, only two knives and his longsword. If he abandoned the trail now, he might never catch up with the female. Judging the opportunity to take her in a weakened state worth the risk, he continued his pursuit. He followed her back as she skirted the edge of Hyde Park.
Van Helsing caught up with her as she was throwing a park bench through the window of the John Lewis drapery. The glass shattered as the wooden seat crashed through. She must have been shopping for a dress as she was stark naked. The human female hadn’t seen him yet and she climbed in through the shattered window. What was it Sage had called her—Luna, that was the Vârcolac’s name...
Slowly he drew the longsword at his back and removed the patch covering his right eye. Extending the curse in a wide bubble in front of him, Van Helsing peered into the shop. Luna held up a flowered piece of fabric to her breasts, then discarded it. His cheeks reddened as she bent over to pick up a silk camisole. Focus. She was beautiful, but a murderous monster.
Box Set: The Wolf of Dorian Gray Series: Books 1-3 Page 41