by Greg Cox
Before he could answer her, the frantic fluttering of the departing crows was drowned out by a more foreboding rustle. It’s here, she realized. She reached down and plucked a Beretta from beneath her trench coat. She grabbed on to Michael’s wrist and yanked him to his feet. There was no time to be gentle about it. Ready or not, they had to get away from here.
I’ll explain later, she thought, if we get out of this alive.
Their odds of surviving declined dramatically as a winged demon came swooping out of the night at them. Taloned claws slammed Selene into the wall of the mining shed, knocking the Beretta from her grasp. A single swipe from a colossal pinion sent Michael flying into a nearby snowbank. Her hand, which had been holding tightly to his arm, abruptly found itself empty.
The creature soared over her head, then landed several yards in front of her. It turned around and began advancing toward her, its great wings poised above its mottled shoulders. Despite its incongruous wings and batlike features, Selene recognized the distorted monstrosity stalking toward her. The inhuman visage still bore a warped resemblance to a face well known to her. His intricate golden belt and satin trousers were nearly identical to the garments Viktor had worn when he’d first Awoke.
Marcus?
Once again, an ominous sequence of events emerged from her memory: Viktor striking Singe dead, the lycan scientist dropping onto the floor of the crypt, his blood flowing across the ancient tiles toward the Elder’s tomb….
“I know what you have done, Selene,” Marcus Corvinus declared.
Done? She wasn’t sure what Marcus meant. She feared, however, that he already knew what had become of his fellow Elders. Had Kraven placed the blame on her? Out of the corner of her eye, she spotted the Beretta lying on the snow, a good fifteen feet away. Michael also appeared to be down for the count, leaving her to face the transformed Elder alone. Very well, she thought. I shall not apologize for my actions.
“Viktor deserved his fate.” Her chin held high, she looked Marcus squarely in the eye. Her fingers crept quietly toward the other Beretta concealed beneath her coat, just to be on the safe side. “And Kraven was no better.”
“Kraven has already reaped the rewards of his own misdeeds.” Marcus eyed her thoughtfully, his hideous face inscrutable. He closed his wings, which folded neatly into his back. His voice took on a softer tone. “And, yes, Viktor deserved his fate, many times over. A terrible business, the slaying of your mortal family.”
Selene was so stunned by Marcus’ reaction that her fingers came away from her gun. Kraven already dead, and Viktor’s death dismissed so easily? Hope flared within her heart that the situation might not be nearly so dire as she had supposed. Apparently, the other Elders had been unaware of Viktor’s secret propensity for slaughtering humans, and of Kraven’s role in covering up such atrocities. Perhaps there was still such a thing as true justice within the vampire community. I’d like to think so, she thought, after defending the coven for six hundred years.
“Yet so much effort was spent to conceal this matter from me,” the Elder observed, taking another step toward her. “What do you suppose Viktor had to hide?” His eyes narrowed suspiciously and a more ominous tone entered his voice. “Or perhaps it is you, Selene, as the last of your wretched family, who has something to hide?”
What? She had no idea what Marcus was referring to.
He gazed down on her like a predator. Thin white lips peeled back to reveal his sharklike teeth. Exploding into motion, he lunged at her with bared fangs. She reached for her pistol, but the Elder was too swift for her. He was upon her in an instant, pinning her to the ground. She struggled to break free, but his powerful limbs held her fast. His head reared back like that of a striking cobra, poised to sink his deadly fangs into her throat.
A burst of automatic gunfire came to her rescue. Marcus roared in pain as a fusillade of 9mm bullets tore into his face and neck. Dark blood sprayed from his pallid flesh. He turned angrily toward the source of the bullets.
Michael stood several feet away, squeezing the trigger of Selene’s Beretta. His eyes were black with hybrid fury, just like Marcus’. Sonja’s pendant rested against his chest.
The hail of bullets from the gun blasted Marcus off Selene. He tumbled backward into the snow, and she scrambled back onto her feet. Veering right to avoid being tagged by the Beretta’s furious discharge, she raced to join Michael. Together, they watched in horror as Marcus rose from the snow and began stalking toward them, against the scorching gunfire. Blood streamed down his face, but the silver bullets only slowed him down. Michael’s jaw dropped in amazement.
He’s not just an Elder anymore, she realized. He’s a hybrid Elder.
“Go!” she shouted.
They turned and rushed through the misty forest. Selene noticed with alarm that the shadows cloaking the woods were rapidly lifting as dawn approached. The ceaseless flapping of mighty wings pursued them as they fled toward nowhere in particular.
Selene wondered what would kill her first, Marcus or the sunlight?
The empty flat-deck truck came barreling down the mountain road. Behind the wheel, Ivan Bogrov yawned and tried to stay awake. He had been driving all night, since dropping off a load of timber at Piliscsaba, and now he just wanted to make it back to Szentendre before his exhausted body completely gave out. The sun would be up soon, and he was sorely in need of a hot shower and several hours of sack time. He scratched at the itchy gray stubble carpeting his jowls; a shave wouldn’t hurt either. The snowy road forced to him to drive slower than he would have liked, but at least he had the road to himself.
Or so he thought.
Something dashed in front of his headlights. Ivan slammed on the brakes, and the truck slid to a stop atop the icy road. “What the hell?” he blurted in Russian. He had only glimpsed the figure for a second, but it had looked like a man… sort of. There was something wrong about it, though. He recalled a fleeting impression of slick, shimmery skin and weird black eyes.
Maybe I’ve been driving too long without a break.
Ivan peered through the frosty windshield at the road ahead. He was fully awake now, his heart pounding. Had he hit… whatever that was? He couldn’t see over the hood. I don’t think I hit anything. He hadn’t heard or felt a collision. Should I get out of the cab and check?
He found himself reluctant to venture out of the truck, and not because of the cold. What if it was still out there? Before he could make up his mind, the driver’s-side door was yanked open from the outside. The door clanged loudly against the body of the truck.
Huh? He spun around in his seat.
To his surprise, an incredibly sexy woman stood right outside the cab. Her dark brown hair and glossy black clothes stood in stark contrast to the virgin snow covering the landscape. The tail of her coat flapped in the wind, revealing a svelte figure that appeared to have been poured into skintight black leather. Luscious brown eyes looked him over.
Ivan’s jaw dropped. His eyes bulged. “What the fuck?”
Not that he was complaining, of course.
“Mind if I drive?” she answered him in Russian.
The trucker ran his eyes up and down her enticing body. A hot shower and shave were no longer the only things on his mind. This trip’s definitely perking up, he thought. A smirk showed through his stubble. What the wife doesn’t know can’t hurt her….
“You can sit on my lap and blow the horn,” he said with a leer. “How about that?”
Crunch! A body landed heavily upon the hood of the truck, yanking his gaze away from the leather-clad babe at the door. Ivan threw himself backward against his seat as a monstrous figure glared back at him, crouching atop the hood. Black eyes and jagged fangs drove all thought of sex from his brain. Terrified, he looked back at the woman, to confirm that she was seeing the same thing he was.
This can’t be happening!
Her glowing blue eyes regarded him with amusement. A sly smile revealed the tips of two sharply pointed canines.
“Maybe next time, sweetheart.”
Wampyr! Half-remembered folk tales and horror movies rushed through his mind as he lunged frantically for the passenger-side door. He shoved the door open and literally threw himself out of the cab. His heavyset body slammed into the snowy curb, but he was up and running madly away from the truck before another moment passed. Abandoning his truck, he bolted east toward the rising sun. The daylight called out to him like a life buoy to a drowning man.
Please, God! he prayed. If you let me get away from these freaks, I swear I’ll never fuck another hitchhiker again!
Crouching in front of the windshield, Michael watched the nameless trucker haul ass into the woods. Poor guy, he thought, sympathizing with the panic-stricken driver. A few nights ago, I would have reacted the exact same way.
Now he didn’t even look like a member of the same species. Acting on instinct, Michael had morphed into his hybrid form during their flight from the winged demon. Beneath his bloodstained shirt and jacket, his chest had expanded, its muscles bulging with superhuman power. His skin had taken on a shimmery, iridescent hue. A mane of wild brown hair framed his bestial features, which were more human than a werewolf’s, but still unmistakably feral. Bony claws jutted from his bare hands and feet. The gilded pendant dangled around his neck.
Without giving the trucker another glance, Selene clambered into the driver’s seat. “Get in!” she shouted urgently.
Michael started to comply, then something in the sky behind them caught his attention. His black eyes squinted to get a better look. Noticing his reaction, Selene glanced back over her shoulder.
“Oh, shit,” he growled.
Marcus came soaring out of the forest. He dived toward them, swooping down over the road like a prehistoric bird of prey.
“Hang on!” Selene yelled. She threw the truck into gear and hit the gas.
The sudden acceleration almost threw Michael off the hood. Instead he scrambled over the roof of the cab and tumbled into the open bed at the rear of the truck. An eight-foot-tall wooden fence ran along both sides of the empty deck.
He rose to his feet and grabbed on to the wall for support… just as Marcus slammed into him with bone-jarring force. Michael was thrown backward across the deck, shattering the rear window of the cab right behind Selene’s head. The sudden impact left him dazed and seeing stars.
The Elder’s wings contracted into his back. His claws dug into Michael’s shoulders. He whipped Michael around and hurled him down onto his back. Marcus pounced on his fallen opponent, bearing down on Michael like a ton of steel. Hybrid versus hybrid, they grappled upon the wooden floor of the deck. Marcus’ batlike face was only inches away from Michael’s slightly more human features. Two pairs of molten black eyes testified to their kinship.
This thing is actually related to me? Michael thought as he fought for his life. He tried to break the Elder’s grip, but Marcus was far too strong. The Elder’s eyes widened at the sight of Sonja’s pendant swinging around Michael’s neck. He let out a high-pitched screech of satisfaction as he snatched the pendant, snapping its delicate golden chain with a vicious tug. Then he hit Michael with a backhanded blow that sent the younger hybrid tumbling over the back of the truck.
At the last minute, Michael grabbed on to the floorboards with his claws. He dangled precariously over the edge of the deck, hanging on for dear life. His bare feet hung suspended above the icy pavement behind the truck. Marcus stood astride the deck, watching to see if the other hybrid fell.
Selene! Michael thought desperately. Help!
Through the cracked rear window, he saw her looking back over her shoulder. Keeping one hand on the wheel, she raised her Beretta and fired back through the window. Shattered glass exploded outward as she blasted Marcus with round after round of red-hot silver. The Elder wheeled about angrily as the bullets tore through his undead flesh. The pendant slipped from his fingers, the sound of it hitting the wooden floorboards completely lost beneath the noise of the Beretta. The pendant bounced across the empty deck.
Selene didn’t let up. The relentless barrage drove Marcus back across the truck’s bed and over the edge. His wings snapped open, carrying him up and away from the snow-covered asphalt. He growled furiously as he flapped off into the early-morning murk.
Michael tried to pull himself back up onto the deck.
Is that it? Selene wondered. Is he gone?
Glancing in her rearview mirror, she saw Michael hanging off the end of the truck. Should she stop the vehicle and give him a chance to climb back into the empty bed? What if Marcus was still after them? She eased up on the gas, uncertain what to do next. The snowy road stretched before her, leading to God knew where.
She started to brake, only to spy Marcus diving out of the sky once more. He flew alongside the truck, directly to her left, then careened against the driver’s side of the cab, using his indestructible body as a battering ram. The five-ton truck rocked to one side as if it had been hit dead-on by a wrecking ball… with wings.
“Shit!” Selene cursed. She struggled to maintain control of the truck, the ice-slick pavement not making her task any easier. In the mirror, she glimpsed Michael swinging violently from the end of the truck. Momentum hammered him into the side of the bed. He scrambled to get a better grip on the wooden railing. Hold on, Michael! she pleaded with him silently. Don’t let go!
For a second, she feared that the truck was going to flip over altogether, but, to her vast relief, the vehicle quickly righted itself, planting all four wheels back on the road. Looking ahead, she spotted a tight curve coming fast. She tugged hard on the wheel, barely making the turn in time. Beyond the bend, she saw a high rock wall approaching on the passenger’s side of the road. An icy glaze frosted the craggy granite.
It would be nice if I didn’t run into that, she thought. She steered with one hand, keeping the other hand locked around the grip of her Beretta. She looked about anxiously for Marcus, having momentarily lost track of the homicidal Elder. Where the devil did you fly off to?
A explosion of glass fragments answered her question as a taloned hand smashed through the cab’s side window. Powerful fingers closed around her throat, throttling her. Marcus pulled his head and shoulders into the cab.
“Dead or alive,” he snarled, “you will give me what I want!”
His jaws opened wide, eager for her flesh and blood. Not so fast, she thought, whipping the Beretta around. She opened fire, sending a round right down his throat.
The blast blew him away from the cab and sent him spiraling out of control. Gagging, he coughed up a mass of blood and silver. Selene hoped that would be enough to discourage him permanently, but she underestimated the Elder’s persistence. His flight path stabilized and he swooped around the truck to the passenger’s side of the cab.
Selene got a bead on him and fired off three shots. Marcus dodged the bullets and she squeezed the trigger again. The gun made a doleful clicking noise. Dammit! she thought. I’m out of ammo!
A malevolent grin stretched Marcus’ monstrous visage as he started to climb into the cab from the passenger’s side. Via the mirror, Selene saw that Michael was aware of her danger. Grunting through clenched fangs, he redoubled his efforts to pull himself up into the truck bed so that he could come to her defense.
She knew he wouldn’t make it in time.
Marcus’ claws reached out for her….
Selene yanked hard on the wheel, swerving to the right. The speeding truck scraped against the solid rock face, smashing Marcus between them. He wailed in agony as his back and wings were crushed against the granite outcropping. Immortal bones snapped like twigs. Selene rode the rocky wall for at least thirty meters, holding hard on to the wheel. Sparks flew where the cab’s metal frame scraped against the stone.
Sorry, Michael, she thought. The wild ride threw Michael against the side panels of the truck, but Marcus had it much worse. Blood gushing from his spinning frame, he tornadoed down the side of the truck and
out the back. This time, his battered wings did not spare him a nasty landing. He crashed to earth amidst the snow and gravel, hitting the road headfirst. A cloud of dust and frozen powder billowed up into the truck’s tail-lights as Marcus rolled to a stop in the middle of the road. Watching in her mirror, Selene allowed herself a smile of satisfaction. The mighty Elder looked like roadkill.
But not for long.
As his demonic form receded into the distance, she saw Marcus rise slowly to his feet. The ugly bastard had survived! Grimacing in pain, he tried to close his wings, but the injured pinions refused to tuck back into his shoulders. Scrapes and bruises covered every inch of his unsightly flesh. Blood trickled from multiple wounds. He glared murderously at the fleeing truck, but made no move to continue his pursuit… for now.
We’ve hurt him, Selene concluded. That will have to be enough for now.
Checking on Michael, she saw that he had finally managed to make it back into the truck bed. He watched Marcus’ dwindling figure warily, before finally accepting that the chase was over for the time being. His hybrid attributes dissolved back into his flesh as he reverted to his human guise. He lifted something from the floor of the bed, then made his way toward the cab.
A weary groan issued from him as he awkwardly climbed through the shattered rear window and dropped into the passenger seat beside her. Cold air invaded the cab through the broken windows. Bullet shells and shattered glass littered the floor and seat cushions.
He was visibly exhausted. Sweat covered his face and chest. He was breathing hard.
She knew just how he felt.
“Are you okay?” he asked.
She massaged her bruised throat, which was still tender where Marcus had throttled her. That’s nothing, she thought. I got off easy.
She gave Michael a reassuring nod.
He stared blankly at the snow-covered road ahead. She could tell he was trying to process what had just happened. “He’s a hybrid, isn’t he?”
“Yes,” she said. There would be time enough later to share her theory as to what might have triggered the Elder’s transformation. Her own mind was still reeling at the concept. Something is seriously wrong here, she realized, even more than I had anticipated. Why had Marcus attacked them, especially if he didn’t care about Viktor’s death? What did he think I was hiding?