by Justin Sloan
Dammit, she thought, preparing herself. She hated the idea of hurting dogs.
“What’d you do, Cammie?” William shouted, running up beside her with his rifle at the ready.
“Refused to take shit,” she replied, then motioned him back. “Get the others to the ship and hold them off if they make it past me. Protect Kristof.”
“You’re going to take them all on? By yourself?!”
She nodded and turned back to the approaching crowd, then began to strip. This caught a couple off-guard, but when she dropped her pants and transformed into a large wolf, half of the remaining force broke ranks, screaming as they retreated.
To her pleasure, this included all but the largest of the dogs. She smiled as best a wolf could. That sound of whimpering, them running with their tails between their legs, meant they got to live another day.
There couldn’t have been fifteen or so men left at this point, she thought, and charged forward to meet them head-on.
Shots rang out from both sides, one zinging past her and exploding into the ground, another flying just barely over her head. Even if one hit her, she wouldn’t care. She’d recover from it…probably.
A man had lumbered over to her, club raised, when a shot from the airship hit him and he fell back. The next was hers and she leaped, taking him down with ease. Blood splattered on her next attacker and he cursed, giving himself away so that Cammie had enough warning to move around him and pull out the bicep muscle on the arm that held his ax.
Leaving him to scream and likely bleed out she transformed, grabbed the ax and the club from the two men, and swung at a group of three. With her Were speed and strength, they were nothing to her.
The next man blinked, clearly not used to seeing a nude woman covered in blood and wielding two weapons coming right for him.
It didn’t last long though, since she lodged the ax in his skull before transforming again. Using his collapsing body she leaped for the next, catching his skull in her jaw and twisting, bringing him down so hard that his body twitched twice and went still.
Growling, she spun, eyes piercing the few remaining men.
They ran…all but one.
Instead of giving chase, she transformed and approached, smirking at the line of piss on his green army pants.
His hand opened and the machete he’d been carrying fell to the ground, followed by the man himself a moment later as he collapsed to his knees.
“Please, please,” he begged, staring at her in shock.
“You will tell us where to find the others.”
“I will.”
“Good.” She tried to wipe the enemy blood from her face, but her arms were covered in it too. “Your shirt,” she demanded, and when he took it off and threw it to her, she wiped the blood on her face just before it would have dripped into her eyes, then wiped a little smile on her stomach so that her breasts were the eyes. The man just gawked, confused and full of terror.
“Turn that frown…upside down,” she commanded, tracing the smile with her finger. She laughed, then cut the laughter off and got in his face. “What’re you looking at? Get the fuck up and go deliver yourself to my men so they can debrief you. Hurry your ass!”
His love handles jiggled as he ran and she found herself kinda liking the chubby bastard, even if she had been going to kill him a moment ago. Maybe it was the fact that he was the first shirtless guy she had seen in some time who didn’t have perfect abs; not that she disliked a man in shape, but she was starting to feel like everyone around her was perfectly fit, and that was just annoying.
Luckily the shirt was big enough that she could tie it around her midsection, and on the way back she found a corpse with a vest on. She appropriated the vest so that by the time she made it back to her clothes, she wasn’t completely nude.
She lifted her clothes and considered them, then realized that if she put them on right away they would be covered in blood and she would be sticky as hell.
“William!” she shouted.
“Yeah?” he leaped down from the ship and started walking over, but froze when he saw her. Several other heads peeked over the side of the ship as if they weren’t sure it was okay to look or not.
“God, my bush and nips are covered, okay?” she shouted. “It’s not that big a deal.”
“Um…” He took another couple steps over, then pointed at her belly with a confused shake of his head. “The…smiley face?”
“I’m fucked up, that’s all,” she told him, and laughed. “Just, tell Derryl to grab a couple canteens if we can spare ’em. I need to get cleaned up.” She glanced around the battlefield and started picking up weapons. “Oh, and tell the sailors over there that, no, they cannot watch.”
“Yes, ma’am.” He ran back to relay the message.
Soon she had a couple of cool new axes and a club in her arms and two old-looking rifles slung over her shoulders. She made it to the ship, where Derryl had thoughtfully left the canteens.
She unloaded the weapons, glancing around to see that her orders had been followed—not that she gave a damn, but figured Royland wouldn’t like it if she knowingly let a group of guys watch her bathe—and then got down to scrubbing the blood off. At least most of it hadn’t dried yet. Dried blood stained the skin if left for too long; she had learned that from experience.
The vest worked well as a washcloth, and when she was done she dressed in her old clothes. She had gathered up her loot and was going to board when she heard growling from the other side of the airship.
Great, she thought. More of those damn dogs.
Then her heart froze at the sound of Kristof’s voice. Her legs moved on instinct, claws extending from her fingertips, and she rounded the ship to find the boy there, rubbing the ears of one of the dogs.
It growled playfully, then rolled over for him to rub its belly.
She just stared for a moment, horrified by the thought of what she could have found, and tried to block that out with reality.
“What’re you doing off the ship?” she demanded, voice stern.
The dog was up in an instant, growling at her with its teeth bared.
“Down, girl,” Kristof ordered, patting the dog’s head. The dog relaxed, though she still cast an untrusting glance Cammie’s direction. “She was scared,” Kristof explained. “I helped her.”
Cammie didn’t know what to make of that, so she just turned. “Come on.”
“You heard her. Come on, girl,” Kristof told the dog, and the two started following her.
“Wait, no.” Cammie spun, unable to process that he thought the dog would be coming too. “She’s with them. She’s one of the enemy.”
“No, she’s not!” Kristof knelt, wrapping his arm around the dog’s neck. “And if she stays, so do I!”
“Everything okay down there?” William called, glancing over the side of the airship with an amused look.
“Looks like we have ourselves a new pet,” Cammie said through gritted teeth, then waved Kristof and his new dog forward to join them. “This ought to be a fun one to explain to Royland.”
“Thank you thank you thank you,” Kristof exclaimed as he and the dog bounded up ahead. There was a small growl as they boarded the ship, but the boy knew how to comfort the dog like Cammie had never seen.
She shook her head at this turn of events and boarded. Near the forward mast, she found the chubby outsider surrounded by her sailors.
“What you want us to do with this guy?” William asked, watching as she stowed the loot. He held a sword to the man’s throat.
“He’s with us now,” she replied, tossing the guy his shirt. It was bloody in places, but it would do. “Name?”
The man looked like he was about to break down crying. “Hines.”
“Okay, Hines, whatever the hell kind of name that is.” She walked over, took William’s sword, and stuck it into the deck. “As long as you play nicely, we won’t tear your head off. Got it?”
He looked at her like she was ins
ane, but he nodded.
“Good.” She turned back to William and ordered, “Get us airborne. Chubs here’s going to tell us where the bad ones are so we can kill them, and where the good ones are so we can schedule some play dates.”
Hines closed his eyes and bowed his head, then told them, “I’ll do it.”
“I know you will,” Cammie replied. “I just said so.”
“On the condition that you don’t kill my family. And…the other families.”
“Hines, Hines, Hines.” She strode back over to him, lifting his face to look into his eyes. “I’m the good guy here. That means the only people who die are the ones who come after me and mine. Got it?”
He nodded skeptically.
“Well, you will soon enough, if you don’t yet.” She turned and saw William still standing there, watching in awe, and gave him a look.
“Right, yes.” With a wave of his hand he ordered everyone to their positions, and soon they were taking off, following the directions of their newest captive.
Cammie was damn exhausted, so she retreated to the captain’s quarters. She knew more trouble was coming, and needed to get some rest.
CHAPTER TWENTY
Toro Inner City
Valerie and Robin spent their evenings watching and observing, occasionally checking in with the others, sometimes staying at the soldier’s house. There were two ladies, sisters, actually, they could possibly pass for, though it was a bit of a stretch.
“Notice how she leans slightly to the left,” Valerie said, observing the one Robin would impersonate. They stood on the street looking at a menu at the same soup place Valerie had seen that night she had found Robin, while their two potential victims window-shopped across the street.
“A spinal disorder?” Robin asked, sipping her tea, and Valerie gave a slight nod.
They had used their army friend to procure a few generic garments so that they could move about as neither soldier nor slave, though they had to maintain a low profile and keep on the move to avoid anyone asking questions. Toro wasn’t exactly a small city, but it was exclusive enough that people would ask questions if they didn’t know who you were.
“Val, you sure this’ll work?”
“Yes.” Valerie smiled, then nodded for them to move so as to seem inconspicuous. They moved forward a bit so that if the ladies noticed them at all it would seem as if they were the ones following.
“I’m sure glad one of us is so positive.” Robin adjusted the hem of her dress, a long, beige one. Apparently, women’s fashion in Toro had regressed to be quite conservative.
“With the Gathering occurring within the hour, I can’t see how any attitude other than positive would help us,” Valerie noted. “And in case you forgot—”
“Yes, yes,” Robin chuckled, “you’re the most amazing thing to walk the Earth.”
“I was going to say something about the two of us being unstoppable when we work together, but you’re welcome to your opinion.”
Robin cast a playful look Valerie’s way, then turned to look at the nearly-full moon above. “Tonight… I can’t believe it’s tonight.”
“Come on, let’s get in position.”
Valerie motioned her to keep up, and together they made their way to the high-end hotel-turned-apartments where the two ladies were staying.
“You don’t feel bad about this, do you?” Valerie asked, then moved with vampire speed to shimmy up the side of the hotel and to the window they had figured belonged to the ladies’ apartment. She had it open in an instant.
Robin followed, ducking through the open window and landing with a roll. “Me, feel guilty? Not in the slightest. You saw the way these two treated their slaves.”
Valerie nodded, moving to check herself in the mirror. She had cleaned up nicely after their travels through the slums and over the last several days had kept up her hygiene. This was a big night, and the last thing she needed was for some soldier to address her in any way, as a slave or soldier, and then recognize her tonight.
“Where do you think these ladies got their dresses, anyway?” Robin asked, pulling them from the closet and laying them out on the bed. They were certainly nice—fancy ball gowns, one dark green and the other lavender—but they had a very old look to them.
“From the dead,” Valerie quipped jokingly. Then she cringed, realizing it could in fact be true. But no, more likely they had found old department stores or chests full of clothes or something like that.
“You got issues,” Robin stated, sitting on the bed next to the dresses. When she noticed how Valerie was looking at her she cocked her head, leaned back, and bit her lower lip.
Valerie took a step over, hesitant, and then paused at Robin’s laugh. “What?”
“Yup, real issues. What were you going to do, make a move on me while we waited for those two? What if they walked in on us?”
“I… Who said I was going to make a move?” Valerie could feel her cheeks flushing. “You looked lonely. I was going to comfort you.”
“Uh-huh.” Robin lowered one of the shoulders of her beige dress so that the top of her breast was exposed. “How about now? Do I look like I need comforting?”
“Very much so.” Valerie laughed. “And you look like a big jerk for teasing me.”
Robin stood, came over to Valerie in two long strides, and kissed her passionately. “When this is all over, I promise…no more teasing. Only the real thing.”
Valerie gulped, suddenly unable to keep her mind on anything other than Robin’s moist lips.
Then her senses kicked in, and she smelled the two ladies’ perfume before she heard their voices.
“They’re here,” she whispered, motioning for Robin to take her place, then moved to the bathroom. They waited, and as soon as the door had closed behind the two sisters and one was starting to comment on wondering who had left the dresses out, the two vampires moved in.
Just like that, it was all over. They didn’t kill them, but drained enough blood to leave them woozy and at the edge of consciousness and left them bound in the closet. They would untie them later, or someone would find them. While they were jerks to their slaves, that wasn’t quite egregious enough for Valerie to justify killing them.
They quickly changed into their dresses, Valerie doing her best not to look at Robin and tease herself further. However, when she turned to ask if Robin would zip her up, she couldn’t help noticing the way Robin was looking at her.
“What?” she asked.
“Just… I’ve never seen you in a ball gown.”
Valerie twirled. “You like?”
“I love it.” Robin stepped over and with one hand on her lower back, almost on her ass, she held Valerie in place to zip up the dress. Valerie was about to return the favor when she felt Robin’s warm lips on her neck.
“You’re just…mean.”
Robin pulled back and turned. “My turn.”
“Meaning you want me to zip you, or tease you?” Valerie zipped the dress, then stormed off to splash cold water on her face.
“Maybe you’ll kill better when you’re a little worked up, no?” Robin called from the other room as Valerie quickly applied makeup.
“Maybe we should get out of here before those ladies start kicking the wall and trying to scream,” Valerie suggested, walking back out into the main room while drying her hands on a small towel. She almost wanted to keep it—the towel was nicer than any she had seen before—but she tossed it over her shoulder instead.
Robin nodded and then smiled in a way that barely seemed hers at all. She had so much makeup on that Valerie almost thought she was the woman whose identity she was stealing for the night.
The two made their way outside, slowing as they passed the doorman to ensure they were seen.
“You look stunning, Mrs. Tepia, and you too, Mrs. Tepia,” the doorman told them, holding the door.
They shared a smile as they exited—if a man who saw them at least twice a day didn’t notice anything off about
them, they doubted anyone else would. At most, Val figured, he would think they were wearing too much makeup.
Valerie was lucky to have practiced walking in heels many times in her life, but was a bit worried at how Robin kept stumbling.
“You sure you’ll be fine?” she asked.
“Shut up and find out where this place is.” Robin followed the directions the staff sergeant had given them, and soon they saw others moving toward another hotel that had survived the chaos years.
“Find out who’s who, don’t draw too much attention to ourselves, and be ready to get out of there and head to the stadium when it’s time. We’re going to want to be close to the council, if possible, to figure out when and how the coup is happening.”
“But it’s tonight, yes?”
“That’s what we think …”
A man stood at the entryway to the hotel, but just smiled and nodded at them as they entered. Since everyone was in such nice clothes, Valerie’s best guess was that everyone here was in the elite class; the rest of society knew the consequences of trying to impersonate one.
They entered to find the ballroom decorated like an old ship, though Valerie thought it more closely resembled an undersea graveyard. Sails hung from the ceiling, and odd bits of flotsam had been used to decorate the walls. Whoever had put this together had spent a lot of time on it, and she was willing to bet it had been the slaves of the town.
In the midst of this parade of people Valerie knew were horrible, at least on whatever level it was that allowed them to operate in a system with slaves, there was one of the most beautiful sights she had seen in quite some time—a band. Back in France there had been music, though not much. She had only seen two live performances ever, and one was on a particularly strange night when the Duke had wanted to celebrate and give his inner circle a treat by playing his clarinet. It was the one time she had felt close to the Duke, the one time she had thought there might be a shred of humanity left in him.
