Hot, delicious blood filled her mouth as the force of her lunge carried them to the floor. The man gurgled, unable to scream or breathe. She ripped free, tearing out his jugular and larynx in the same vicious motion, spraying herself with more blood. The flesh tasted so good.
The connection with herself and Moreau centered her, kept her from losing herself to the urge to devour it and the man both. She spit the pieces of him out, disgust tainting the purity of the joy that had saturated her on not one, but two kills.
An explosion rocked the fort.
What light there was beyond that provided by the windows vanished.
Sir Balzac had destroyed the water wheel as he had promised, giving the signal to Sir Dupont, and they still had not located the heirs.
A shriek drew her attention from the dead man beneath her. His mineral feline had been much further down the hall and was now clearly Rampant, and just as clearly fixated on Loretta. She charged with preternatural speed that defied her craggy flesh.
Without thinking, Loretta whipped free one of the dead brigand’s many pistols and took aim. Only to find that she couldn’t. The sensation as she tried to lock onto her target was akin to what she felt when she tried to read. Some link in the chain of events that enabled her brain to make sense of what she was doing and act with clarity was simply missing, and her shot went wide.
The feline beast leapt. Loretta threw herself backward, striving to put her sword between her and her attacker, knowing that she would be too late.
Something struck the oncoming beast squarely in the forehead. It ripped her head around and simply careened onward, hitting the ground hard in a tumbling, stunned lump as Loretta ducked aside.
Malin stood in the doorway to the office, empty sling in hand and a grin upon her face. “I did it!”
Loretta gave her a nod of thanks and darted forward to slam her blade up under the Rampant beast’s ribcage, piercing her heart. The beast quit moving.
“I think I’m going to be sick,” Malin said, looking away.
Loretta couldn’t blame her for that. There was blood everywhere and three dead bodies. Any girl would feel troubled by that. Except for Loretta, because she had been transformed into a beast and filled with bloodlust. Even now, looking upon her kills, she felt nothing but pride.
Then it hit her.
Malin was a beast, like her. Malin, unlike her, was repulsed by the killing and violence they had just unleashed.
Loretta stared at her, horror making her stomach sink. If what she was experiencing was not because she was a beast, then what on earth was wrong with her?
Screams and shrieks sounded nearby, louder and more familiar than the ones coming from outside. The merchant had gone to the heirs.
Loretta took off down the hallways and rounded the corner to reach the next stretch with rooms.
The merchant stood in the hall, his back to her, arm extended in obvious focus while his beast grappled with another. The new one was silvery, more liquid than solid, and instead of legs, she possessed a thick, serpentine tail.
The merchant’s reptilian beast shrieked in pain, managing to tear herself free of the silvery beast and hurl her opponent down the hall. The silvery beast hit the floor with a splash, her form recovering quickly. She was naked, with small fins down the bottom and spine of her long tail, and clearly Rampant. She also seemed to be completely unharmed, her hungry gaze falling upon the merchant, looking right through the beast between them.
The merchant’s beast was smoking from several places. The Rampant beast must have burned her. But what was a Rampant beast doing inside the fort? Fluid as it was, there was no way the walls of the fort could have kept it out, but to get this far in without being noticed defied reasonable expectations. Rampant beasts were not known for their subtlety.
One of the heirs had been ill, Loretta recalled the brigand saying. She must have Fallen.
“Tuerie,” the merchant said. “Are you harmed?”
“It’s nothing,” the reptilian beast said. The green light shining from her hair and eyes grew more intense as she readied herself to attack again. “You’ll want to harvest this one, sir. She could be useful.”
“What do you think I am trying to do?” the merchant snapped.
Loretta could feel it then, his anima, open and trying to accept the beast’s own. She couldn’t let this man harvest that beast. She could not let someone experiencing something as horrible as she had become bound to this criminal!
Loretta leapt, sword swinging in a silver arc as she attacked.
The merchant’s reptilian beast struck, launching herself backward and catching Loretta’s blade in her claws. The strength of her opponent was overwhelming, as was the mass behind her strike. Loretta was tackled out of the air and hit the ground hard.
The beast opened her mouth, revealing pale, hook-like teeth, and lunged for Loretta’s throat. Loretta was barely able to get her arm up in time between herself and the powerful jaws. They clamped shut, tearing through flesh. Something snapped in Loretta’s arm. She screamed.
So did the merchant.
Tuerie released Loretta’s arm and leapt free of her, rushing to her keeper’s aid.
Head spinning, Loretta flipped herself back up onto her feet.
The merchant had been driven back by the silver beast, who was now once again locked in combat with Tuerie. The man was pulling himself upright, once more trying to harvest the Rampant beast. Loretta could sense his anima accepting the rampaging, intangible lashings of the Fallen heir’s anima into himself. He’d have her soon.
“No,” Loretta cried out, and staggered forward.
A gunshot rang out and the merchant staggered to the wall with a scream, arm falling to his side, limp and bleeding. Loretta glanced back to find Moreau, weapon drawn and shaking, standing at the intersection of the hallways.
“Hell of a shot,” she said.
He scowled. “I was aiming for his head.”
She shook her head. Of course, he had been.
They were both hurled backward through the air as a force unlike anything Loretta had ever experience tore free of Tuerie, flinging the Rampant beast away. Loretta tumbled across the ground, barely managing to turn her roll into a recovery that made her land in a crouch instead of careening into the wall.
The outer wall of the hallway was gone, along with the roof. Tuerie’s tail whipped around the broken wall and she and the merchant were both gone. Loretta gaped. She must have been holding back so that her keeper could harvest the newly Fallen heir. That, or she simply hadn’t wanted to destroy the building.
Loretta’s stomach clenched, and she thought she might be sick. How close had she come to dying?
The heir hissed, rising up from the wreckage to fix her silvery eyes upon Moreau. He was still pulling himself upright, clearly dazed by the explosion Tuerie had unleashed.
Loretta put herself between him and the Rampant beast, sword at the ready, injured arm held close. Keeping her balance was difficult. She felt hot and her head too light. She spared a glance for her injury. Was Tuerie venomous on top of everything else? Too late to do anything about it now.
Malin rounded the corner. “What the—”
“Take care of Moreau,” Loretta said. “Don’t let him die.”
The silver beast slithered over the wreckage, moving in a way no organic creature could hope to match. Her liquid, or perhaps semi-liquid, body enabled her to slide through and over wreckage in a way nothing else alive could imitate.
A young woman, only a year or so younger than Loretta hurled herself into the hall from the adjoining room, her arms bound behind her back. She spun, back to the beast and facing Loretta. Her anima flared, ready to lash out and sever Loretta’s connection with Moreau.
“Don’t hurt him!”
Him? What did she mean? Recognition dawned on her. The girl before her was Una Leloup. Which meant that the beast behind her was the male twin, Ulrich. How
was that possible?
Loretta had no more time to speculate, because the beast sprung forward, not attacking her, but his sister.
Chapter Eleven
More Than One Shot
Sigmund Moreau hurt.
Something had happened to his shoulder when that blast had thrown him back, and his arm refused to obey with the alacrity it should. For that matter, his entire body resisted his commands. He was sticky. Why was he sticky? As he finally managed to force himself to sit upright, he realized it was because he was covered in blood. It was leaking all over him from a dozen little injuries, mostly the result of large splinters that had struck him like shrapnel when that merchant’s beast had blown up the wall.
Small hands grabbed his shoulders and helped him gain his balance before he could fall back to the floor. Malin, he sensed through their roots. She was terrified. It was all the former thief could do not to completely freeze up. She may have grown accustomed to violence on the streets of Saunet, but not combat. Not like this. She hadn’t been ready for a proper mission. None of them had been, perhaps himself least of all.
Sauvage was hurting, he could sense that as well. She was also in a state of panicked confusion. A young woman’s voice reached his ears, half commanding, half pleading. Her anima lashed through the air, striking at his connection with Sauvage and Malin. He gritted his teeth and focused his will to resist. No man could stand for long against a properly trained diamond soul’s wrath for any real length of time. Fortunately, this young woman was not yet properly trained. His connection with his beasts held, though fresh pain blossomed in his head, preventing him from banishing the dizziness.
“Don’t hurt my little brother!” Una Leloup, for that was the only person it could be, cried out. Her anima struck again. Again. And again. Pain flared in his head, overwhelming that which had previously saturated his body. He grunted and held. They could not afford for his beasts to become paralyzed or lose their connection to him now.
Her cries of anger turned into panic, then pain. Her spiritual onslaught vanished and, with it, enough of the pain that Sigmund was able to once again see clearly. That was the thing about pain. It was a paradoxical thing that could either completely cloud one’s awareness or create a heightened sense of clarity and focus. Provided one knew how to utilize it.
Sigmund did. Pain was an old tool, almost a friend, really. Now that his roots were no longer under threat of being severed, he called upon that tool once again and everything that was happening around him snapped into place.
The Rampant beast—presumably Ulrich Leloup—had attacked his—her?—sister from behind, and only Sauvage leaping into action had saved the future baronesa from being slain. Sauvage screamed in agony, pain making her muscles seize up.
Sigmund had seen enough electrical beasts weaponizing their energy to recognize the effects upon the body. What on earth was this beast? He could identify neither its bestia nor its orbis seed. Serpentine, metallic, liquid, electrical…and unless he missed his guess, toxic. It was hard to say, but he’d learned to track the wellness of his beasts long ago, and, in addition to a broken ulna in her left arm, Loretta was dealing with venom in her blood stream from her exchange with that glowing reptilian beast, and a toxin that was trying to work its way through her flesh.
The Rampant beast coiled about her, striking at her with its blunted head and needle-like teeth while Loretta tried to counter-strike and pull away. Neither worked. What strikes she was able to land at such close range had no effect, either bouncing off, or, in some disturbing instances, sliding right through the beast without harming it.
The tail and the Rampant beat’s semi-liquid state kept Sauvage locked up close where her enemy had the advantage. Teeth tore at Sauvage’s flesh. Small wounds, but each time contact was made electricity pulsed through Sauvage’s body, making her muscles try to seize up and another toxin began working its way through her blood. If Moreau didn’t act immediately, Sauvage was going to die.
“Get Una,” he ordered Malin, reinforcing his command with mental urges through their roots. There was no time for her to hesitate. The heiress to the Leloup Barony had to be protected, and he had to save his beast. He staggered forward as Malin took off, grabbing the future baronesa and dragging her out of reach of the struggle taking place in the hallway. Una screamed at Malin but her anima was so unfocused that it couldn’t sever their connection, thank the Goddess.
His hands shook too badly for a clear shot, so he hurried forward. There came a point, especially when operating with heavy buckshot, that range simply canceled out accuracy. The Rampant beast slammed Sauvage into the wall with all of its considerable strength, somehow shifting its liquid mass around to strike even harder. Sauvage gasped for air, and Ulrich Leloup lunged for her throat.
Only to encounter the barrel of Sigmund’s weapon. He pulled the trigger and the beast’s face vanished as it was blasted back.
It didn’t so much release Sauvage as melt from her as it toppled over to the floor in a writhing mass that was half puddle, half serpent. Una Leloup shrieked behind him, calling him a number of colorful obscenities. Were the situation less dire, he would have made an effort to commit a few of them to memory. They were quite inventive.
“You’ve been poisoned twice over,” he told Sauvage, grabbing her as she fell. “And your arm is broken. We need to get you to—”
The Rampant beast rose up and struck, tail whipping out, stretching in a way flesh couldn’t imitate so that it became like a chain flail. Force equals mass times acceleration. The thought struck Sigmund in an instant as he recognized what the beast was doing, shifting its liquid mass to maximize both.
The tail wasn’t the only thing it lashed out with. Its anima was just as Rampant as it was, and Sigmund opened up his own anima to accept it into him. It slid into him like it was always meant to be a part of him. That did nothing to stay the incoming blow.
Loretta tore his shotgun from his hand and fired it into the oncoming tail’s clublike end. The liquid exploded all over her, the toxins in it sinking into her flesh.
She began to stagger upright, dropping the gun in favor of her sword. He could sense a headache forming behind her eyes as she struggled to aim. “It would have been good to know that beasts have trouble with firearms. It’s simple hand-eye coordination. Reading, I can understand, it’s a purely human thing, but this makes no sense!”
Sigmund raised an eyebrow. “You didn’t know?”
Sauvage glared at him. “Of course not.”
He continued to look at her. Hadn’t she ever wondered why everyone armed their beasts with cold weapons, and those almost exclusively melee? Malin’s own simian bestia had been just close enough to human that, with a little training, he’d been able to help her get a more than decent handle on a sling.
“Shut up!” she snapped.
A groan drew their attention to the writhing beast on the floor. It, or rather she—Sigmund always had trouble thinking of non-Rampant beasts without a pronoun—showed no indication that either of the shotgun blasts had done any real damage. The vestiges of her Rampant state faded away, revealing a delicate, slightly androgynous face and a decidedly feminine, if slight, torso. Despite the silvery color of her flesh, the features were similar enough to Una Leloup to make them instantly recognizable as relations.
“Do you think,” Sauvage said hesitantly, gaze affixed to the transformation occurring before her eyes. “That what was done to me…” she gestured vaguely at the beast.
“I don’t think so,” Sigmund said, slowly. “It’s possible, but unlikely.” It was rare, but occasionally someone everyone thought was a man because of the flesh they’d been born with actually had the soul of a woman. A femella.
It was one of those things that wasn’t discussed in polite company, and it was made complicated by the fact that the only way to know for certain whether such was actually the case was whether or not the individual Fell. Sigmund thought it more likely that
such was the case with Ulrich, rather than a wizard casting a heretofore unknown form of magic spell. One phenomenon was actually known to occur, whereas the other he’d only ever heard of from Sauvage, who, while earnest, was hardly an unbiased source.
Gunfire, shouts, and the sounds of combat reached them. Figures dashed about the grounds outside the ruined building. Sigmund let out a long sigh. “I really wish that merchant’s beast hadn’t blown up the wall.”
Stealth was out of the question now, even with all the chaos. Several brigands, a motley mix of men and women, had clearly spotted them, and they had both beasts and guns.
“If you hurt Ulrich, I’ll kill you!” Una shrieked, getting free of Malin to go to her Fallen brother. Sister, now, Sigmund supposed, though it may have always been sister, if unacknowledged.
“Hurt it?” Loretta scoffed, nearly losing her balance. “It nearly killed us!”
Una Leloup glared at her.
“With your permission, my lady,” Sigmund said dryly. “Perhaps you can allow us to rescue you before killing us?”
Someone took a wild shot at them. He threw himself upon Una, tackling her to the floor. More gunshots sounded and splinters fell upon them as the bullets struck the wall behind them.
“Rude of them to interrupt,” Sigmund muttered.
With a look of startled incredulity, the heiress to the Leloup Barony choked out a laugh.
“There we go,” he said. “Now hold tight to me, this is going to be uncomfortable.”
“What are you—” before she could finish, Sigmund wrapped his arms around her and rolled out of the building through the empty space that had once been a wall. There was a drop of nearly a foot to the ground, which they hit with a jarring thud, before he rolled them both into the space under the building.
“There now,” he said. “We have cover. And if you throw up a few blankets I’m sure it will be right cozy.”
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