by S T Branton
But his men didn’t matter to me as much as the god himself. I couldn’t let that half-wilted bastard slip through my fingers. I did my best to keep a low profile and avoid being drawn into the battle that still raged and increased my pace. Focused now, I raced toward the back of the hideous fortress. A lapse in tree coverage forced me to dart through the open, the sword hilt tucked safely out of sight, but I was soon immersed in the trees once more. The sounds of war grew muffled behind me.
After a moment, I slowed. It was easy to be surprised while running, and it was as easy for tunnel vision to set in. The god could be anywhere, so I had to stay vigilant.
I wound around a bend and reached the edge of a small clearing in which pale, blurred figures moved about. The noises that reached my ears weren’t even close to human, merely growls and screams. I drew the Gladius Solis and stole up to the edge of the trees for a better look. As I did, a different scream pierced the hush of the woods. This one was much, much closer to what I was used to. Someone was trapped.
I ran in, poised to strike, and stopped dead in my tracks. Oxylem cowered amid a pack of creatures I’d never seen before and attempted weakly to fend them off. His clothes were tattered, and shreds of material lay where the beasts had torn them and let them fall. Bruises bloomed on his grayish skin. His eyes locked on to mine, filled to the brim with panic. The creatures noticed his gaze and turned curiously to see what had barged in on their little party.
“What the fuck is this nonsense?” I asked.
The translucent, waxy skin, the bloodshot eyes, and the protruding fangs told me these things were vampires, but they had virtually nothing in common with the vamps back east or the ones in the rest of the compound. They were beefier, although they moved with a grace that implied speed, and the gnashing teeth in their mouths were huge and fearsome—the kind of mandibles that would rip out an entire esophagus, no problem. Their heavy lower jaws protruded, which might have been a little funny if I wasn’t so sure they could kill the shit out of me.
The closest one faced me and hissed through its teeth. Flecks of foamy saliva flung from its mouth. Its shoulders raised, and a pair of disturbingly muscular, flesh-toned wings unfurled. Each of the five long fingers on its hands ended in a ragged claw.
To top it all off, they had tails. Pointy, barbed tails lashed around their feet like snakes.
“This is wrong,” I said. “Everything about this is wrong. What the hell happened to them?”
Your guess is as good as mine, Marcus said. His voice carried a hint of revulsion. For now, I suggest you save your concern for what is about to happen to you.
The freak vamps circled like vultures closing in on a carcass. Nothing remotely resembling language passed through their throats, but they watched me with sharp, unsettling intelligence.
I did a quick headcount. “Eight,” I said. “Cool. This is gonna be interesting.”
The vamps I had gotten to know and love were fond of mobbing and overwhelmed through numbers. It was a technique I learned to embrace because their enthusiasm only served to make my job easier. In stark contrast, these new guys were in no hurry to attack. They remained at a distance, observing and calculating. I could sense the gears turning in their heads.
What they were thinking, I could only guess.
My knowledge of these monstrosities is nonexistent, Marcus warned. I will do my best to be of technical assistance, but we have ventured into truly unknown territory, perhaps for the first time.
I shrugged. “It was bound to happen sooner or later.”
Whenever I spoke, the neo-vamps watched my mouth move. They had completely abandoned their original target. Oxylem shivered, reluctant to move. He said nothing.
“What?” I looked at each of the monsters. “Now that I’m here, you’ll make me wait? Let’s get this over with.” I paused to really absorb their appearance. “Holy shit, you guys are ugly. I’ve seen week-old roadkill with more charm.”
My brazen insults worked. The trio in the front raised their hackles and displayed even more of their impressive dentistry. I assumed a fighting stance as their grotesque bodies coiled low for a spring.
Three of them released at the same time and flew directly at me. The angle made them appear huge, and I barely spun out of the way in time. One of them caught my poor, embattled jacket on those nasty claws and left a good-sized rend in the fabric.
I danced to the left. “Good thing distress is in style.”
Their next strikes glanced off the burning blade of my sword, and they hissed in pain from the blisters on their skin. That brought some satisfaction, but I noticed that the other five had gradually tightened the circumference of their circle. They hunted me the same way pack animals hunted prey. If I slipped up too badly, I was done for.
Prioritize your targets, said Marcus. Focus on individuals instead of the group at large. It is the only way to keep from becoming overwhelmed. Take a deep breath. You can do this.
The medallion warmed against my sternum. It made me smile.
“I learned from the best,” I said. I set my sights on the central vamp and got down to business. It backed up in preparation for another attack. I didn’t dare close the distance myself. That would leave me vulnerable on either side. Instead, I hung back and exercised patience in an effort to draw out the aggression. A striking enemy, I had discovered through much trial and error, was more likely to make a mistake.
But that didn’t happen. The vamps peppered me with manageable but more or less constant blows designed to wear me down, make me tired, and force me to slip. They obviously wanted to rip me open right then and there, but instincts—and possibly training—told them to take the slow and steady route. It was infinitely more frustrating. I matched them to the best of my ability until I couldn’t take it anymore. I was unscathed, and this was a waste of time. Oxylem now crept toward the perimeter of the clearing.
I could not afford to lose him.
“Can we maybe speed this up a little?” I asked the vamps. “I have somewhere I need to be.”
They didn’t care. All they wanted was to continue their obnoxious pattern until I gave them the chance to incapacitate me. I’d seen it dozens of times on nature programs in the days when I still had tv. The crucial difference was that the prey in those shows didn’t have swords. I’d used mine for defense long enough.
It was time to switch to an offensive play.
The next volley proceeded as usual. I fended the vamps on the sides off with a deft hand and turned fluidly to block each of their attempts. The one in the center leapt at me, braced for the blade, and expected to be knocked back. This time, I hooked the sword under and jabbed at the vamp’s unguarded abdomen. With the move, I risked a brutal eyeful of claws. Their very tips scratched along my cheekbone, but the pain was such a shock that it caused the vamp to curl up by reflex. It screeched, and I twisted the blade.
In lieu of ash, a torrent of thick, blackened blood spurted from the wound. I made a face. “What the hell kind of vamp doesn’t turn to dust when it dies?” The only answer I received was in the form of a lethal tail that whipped toward my face. “Oh, shit!” The sword sliced it neatly in half. More blood fountained out. The orphaned tip twitched on the ground. “Gross.”
I looked at the vamp, who had slid off the end of the blade. Its hands opened and closed, and the eyes dulled rapidly. When it finally died, the others stood motionless as if in shock for a long moment.
Then they all sought vengeance at once.
This was the fight I’d wanted all along. The Gladius Solis had an amazing reach when I was crowded. Some of them left the ground to hover awkwardly directly above my head as they slashed downward at my face and eyes. I ducked, aimed, and sliced a wing. That vamp crashed to the ground and knocked against another as it fell. I ran them through while they stumbled to regain their footing. As I straightened, I slashed a third out of the air. The severed wing dropped into the mud and its former owner shrieked.
The vamps becam
e less intimidating with their foolproof strategy in shambles. But that didn’t make them physically weaker. Whatever Delano had done to cook these hybrids up was way more effective than feeding them human blood alone. They couldn’t be outfoxed, backed into a corner, or turned on one another. They thought fast and acted faster. They communicated and worked as a team. I had to pick each of them off, one by one, and not allow them to rally. At the end of seven out of eight, I was bloodied, tired, and madder than a fight had ever made me.
“I don’t have fucking time for this!” I shouted at the last vamp. “Just die already, you sack of shit.” It lifted off clumsily and hooked around to try for a divebomb. “Oh, come on!”
I tracked it through the air, and when it reared back to swoop down, I ran forward, jumped, and dragged it down by its leg. It thrashed for freedom and gashed my arm badly, but I hardly noticed. I severed its head, dropped the carcass, and looked for Oxylem. I expected him to be gone, but the weirdo lurked a few feet into the trees and simply watched me.
He fled the moment he realized the last vamp was dead.
“Damn it to hell!” I burst out. “Get back here, you shitfaced creep.” He didn’t stop, so I gave chase and cursed the whole way.
Chapter Thirty-Six
The woods ended without much warning on a bald, rocky shore that sloped down to the gray ocean. Oxylem was still a good way ahead and hurried to a dinghy moored on the water. He had a hell of a time untying the ropes with a single arm, but he was lucky. I was too shocked by the rest of the scene to pay attention to what he did.
The god and the dinghy were dwarfed by the massive ships that moored offshore, shrouded in the fog. They took up the entire view for as far as I could see and filled the sky with rigging, masts, and sails. Each smooth, dark-wood hull gleamed, even in the dull light. I stared, dumbstruck by the enormity of the fleet—and the realization that we’d found the reason for that massive lumberyard operation. The grain of the wood reminded me of skin in a weird way that made my stomach turn.
Victoria! Oxylem is trying to escape.
I snapped back to the moment and jogged along the shore. Choppy waves lapped restlessly at the bottom of the much smaller boat. Oxylem had the end of the hitching rope in his hand, the knot half undone. Tiny green buds sprouted from the stump under his shoulder.
“That’s a neat little party trick,” I called and pointed to the regrowth. “I bet it’s gotten you out of a whole bunch of scrapes. It won’t get you out of this one.”
He whirled and promptly lost his balance and fell to his knees in the cold surf. I ambled up to him and placed the tip of the sword beneath his chin. Oxylem’s lip trembled.
“Please don’t,” he whimpered and reached his hand toward me. He still held the boat’s rope in shaking fingers. “Please let me go.” His watery blue eyes swam with tears. “I have to go.”
“Uh-uh.” I shook my head. “I decide who goes where because I’m the one with the blade and both my arms. You’ll stay put until you tell me everything that’s going on here.”
Oxylem blinked. A few of the tears, huge and crystalline, spilled over onto his sallow cheeks. “He forced me,” he said in a hoarse whisper. “All of it. He forced me to do everything. All those—” His voice cracked, and he choked up. “All those trees. All that ugliness. I didn’t want to!” The god clenched his fist. A bout of near-hysteria washed over him. “Of course I didn’t want to. They were my friends!”
“But you did,” I said. “Why?”
Oxylem was weeping now. “I had no choice. You don’t understand. You’re a human. You could never understand.”
I moved the sword closer to his skin. His Adam’s apple bobbed as he swallowed hard. “Try me,” I told him. “I might surprise you.”
“Please,” he pleaded. “I have to leave. If he finds me here, he’ll kill me.” His eyes rolled in their sockets as he tried to look around without moving his head.
“I could kill you, too,” I reminded him. “And I’ve already found you here. Not him.”
A frigid chuckle sounded behind me. “I would think twice about that if I were you.”
I whipped around and brought my sword up. It wasn’t enough. One strong blow knocked me aside. It wasn’t enough to send me sprawling, but the breath left my lungs.
I regained my footing on the rocks and raised my head.
“Delano?” I asked.
“Hello, darling.” Lorcan’s Apprenti stood before me, a far cry from the slender, pale-eyed man I remembered. He was glorious now in a terrible way, beautiful and cruel. Black wings adorned his shoulders and arched over a sharp, dark suit. The back half of his body was constantly wreathed in shifting shadows, and when he lifted his hand to brush an invisible speck of dust from his sleeve, I noticed that delicate scales now covered his skin. He examined Oxylem through cat’s eyes, the pupils little more than diamond slits.
The tree god shrank down, away from Delano’s reach. But the Apprenti moved with feline speed, seized him by the neck, and lifted him like a ragdoll. Delano’s jaw unhinged and consumed the entirety of Oxylem’s face.
I wanted to stop him but my whole body was frozen to the spot, paralyzed by horror. Marcus’s silence filled my ears.
Delano unlatched from Oxylem’s body and tossed the dry husk into the waves. It was nothing more than a hunk of driftwood now. We both watched it bob out to sea. The seconds passed like hours. My mind had gone numb.
“Look at me,” Delano said. “Quickly, before it’s over.”
Without thinking, I did as he asked. His long dark hair shimmered into golden laurels, the way Oxylem’s must have been before he lost himself.
“Beautiful, isn’t it?” Delano twined a lock around his finger and smiled fondly. “He was always a lovely boy, but he would never have survived. He was too sweet. Too gentle. Too unwilling to fight.” His smile turned into a mirthless chuckle. “I forced him to grow up because I knew he couldn’t. And after he inevitably failed, I would be able to take his essence as my own.”
Something clicked in my head, and I gasped. “You’re stealing their power,” I said. “This is why you’re killing the gods.”
“Why else?” he asked as if it were the most obvious thing in the world. “Their only usefulness to me comes in the form of what I can take from them. I am a vessel, my darling. They are the waters of tribute.” He gazed pensively at the ships. “It took you a long time to find these, you know. I was worried that perhaps you had lost some of the razor’s edge that had brought you so far. I admit I underestimated you, for here you are after all—the only thing in this horrid world that has yet to disappoint me.” He glanced at me and raised an eyebrow. “That said, if you wanted to know my grand plan so much, all you needed to do was ask.” He laughed, the sound simultaneously menacing and musical.
“Spill it, then,” I said crossly. The shock had slowly worn off, and the remnants of my patience were dangerously thin.
“They were for my army,” he said simply. “Hyrrik’s abundance of manpower combined with Oxylem’s resources produced magnificent results.” He beamed at the ships in the manner of a proud parent. “They are perfect. Exquisite. I planned to load them up and send them to the Asian coastline. Not a single god has managed to gain and keep a foothold on that whole continent. There is no opposition. My following would have swelled by the millions. From there, on to the seat of the world.”
“Yeah, screw that,” I said. “I’ll burn every last one of these ships.”
Delano laughed again, utterly nonplussed. “Do as you please,” he said serenely. “You’re a fool if you think this is my only plan. Indeed, it is but one of many. And every day, my power grows. No mere human can dream of stopping me.” His roving eyes settled on me and cut through to my core the way they had that first time at the slaughterhouse. “Darling Vic. I wonder what you’ll taste like.”
I suppressed a disgusted shudder. “The only thing you’ll taste is this sword.”
Delano smiled indulgently. “Yes.
Soon enough.”
I scowled. That wasn’t the kind of response I’d hoped for. He didn’t give me the chance to reply. The great wings on his back beat up a whirlwind, and in the next instant, he was gone, had risen out of sight into the murky sky.
“Fuck that guy,” I said and rubbed my hands over my eyes. “Shit.”
Chapter Thirty-Seven
I sat down on the damp rock and didn’t care that my ass was soaked in less than a minute. Dry asses were for winners, and I had let Delano escape.
The ocean lapped at the smooth edge of the shore and tugged at Oxylem’s abandoned boat. Having nothing else to do, I retied the rope to the best of my ability. Someone in this community probably had some use for it. Maybe Smitty could use it to fish or something.
My head still reeled from Delano, from seeing what he had turned into and hearing the extent of his plans for the future. I had trouble wrapping my mind around the reality that he consumed other gods and condensed them into…what? I sure as hell didn’t know, and neither did Marcus.
I have never seen anything like this, the centurion admitted. And although I am not sure what we could do in opposition, I feel that we should remain here for a while to guard against his return. At least then, we could attempt to issue a warning.
“Yeah,” I said absently. I was simply grateful for the quiet and the solitude. It was the kind of tranquility I hadn’t truly experienced since we’d arrived at Fort Victory. It felt amazing to lean back on my hands, close my eyes, and decompress to the sound of the sea. The salt breeze cleansed my tension, and I embraced it.
Besides, I knew it wouldn’t be long before the others looked for me. The Weres followed their noses toward the briny scent of the water and found the shoreline first. The rest of our forces followed. Luis’s trucks rolled across the rocks and pulled into a neat line facing Delano’s abandoned fleet. I glanced over my shoulder to see him and Deacon get out of one of the vehicles.
