“Maybe I’ll kill you now, after all,” Maledictus growled, “So that I can carry on your torture without being forced to listen to your relentless fucking banter!”
Head still swimming, Zane’s eyes swam in an effort to focus on his attacker once again. In the daze and confusion, he caught sight of something that brought a smile to his face, and he felt a flower of confidence bloom in the back of his mind.
“That sure does sound swell, asshole—it really does—but, before you go through with all that, y’know, killing and bringing ponies to their knees and whatnot, you might wanna work an extra step into your plan.”
Maledictus sneered and started towards him, clenching his fists. “Not that I particularly care what a dumb shit like you thinks, but what—pray tell—are you babbling about?”
Zane was already laughing at what he knew was coming.
“You might want to watch your back.”
Raith had never met Zane’s informant, Ben, nor was he particularly trusting of the call that the club-owner had made to the clan. Though he’d been curious how somebody would have access to their private line, the message took precedent over any other questions he might have had.
Tracking the signal on Zane’s phone, Raith had been able to follow his friend, who Ben had expressed a concern for after leaving his club in shambles to pursue a suspect. Raith knew that Zane was a heavy-handed warrior, but it wasn’t his style to terrorize huge groups if he could avoid it. Not that Zane was particularly kindhearted when it came to strangers, but, for him, taking the time and energy to break a few strangers’ faces was time and energy that could be better applied to breaking their target’s face. The only exception Raith, or any of the others who were privy to the call, could make was Maledictus.
To get to him, Zane would’ve bulldozed the entire city and never once batted an eyelash at the bloody mess he was leaving.
So if this Ben’s club was recovering from Zane rocketing out of the scene like a bat out of hell, it was a safe bet that the target he was pursuing was one that Raith was every bit as interested in seeing brought down.
And, as luck would have it, his deductive reasoning wasn’t wrong.
Unfortunately, Zane had obviously bitten off more than he could chew in trying to take on Maledictus in his new body on his own.
Raith was already in his therion form and putting more and more distance from the Dodge Viper he’d used to get to the lumber yard. Ahead of him, near a trio of wood chipping towers, he saw Zane—looking like he’d just called the late Joseph Stryker’s mother a “whore”—cowering in the shadow of…
Well, somebody’s been doing some reconstruction!
“—want to watch your back,” Zane, despite his appearance, was laughing at Maledictus.
Whatever he’d just said sparked some suspicion and Maledictus, and the towering, tail-wielding, horned creature started to turn to face what was coming.
Raith, however, was faster.
Raith, moreover, was eager.
Zane had only made half of the turn to face the incoming threat before the incoming threat came down on him. It was no longer incoming, it was no longer waiting—no longer stalking or planning or sneaking—and, as the whirlwind of Raith—a flurry of teeth and claws slicing air and flesh alike to a chorus of ravenous snarls and grunts—collided with the monster Maledictus had become, the threat became relevant.
Raith’s powerful therion hands pinned Maledictus’ arms to the ground and he began snapping his jaws at his face. Before his teeth could sink into the monster’s sneering face, though, Maledictus’ tail wormed over his shoulder and twisted around his throat, holding him back.
“My my, aren’t you a big doggy,” Maledictus growled. As they continued their struggle, the monster’s only eye glistened and widened. “Wait! Are you…?” he cackled and kicked Raith off of him, shooting to his feet, “Yes! That is you! You’re the dog that lived inside Zaney-boy with me for all those years! I see Zane was polite enough to put you in fellow fleabag’s corpse. Isn’t that precious!” He frowned as he took in the sight of the now-heaving, snarling creature before him, “Too bad, though. I liked you better then; not nearly so fucking panty and growly.” He shifted his one-eyed gaze to Zane, smirking, “I’m afraid your doggy went rapid, boy; we had to put ‘im down!”
Zane’s body shook with rage, the act causing his tortured muscles to ache. He wanted to get up; wanted to help his friend and finally take down the monster that had plagued them for so long; wanted to, but he was too damn weakened from his injuries.
Looks like somebody could use a pick-me-up, Zoey’s psychic voice echoed in Zane’s mind, and a small flask dropped between his knees. Drink up, Prince Valiant, we need you at your best.
“Z-Zo—”
Nuh uh! Hiding myself from tall, dark, and truly heinous is tough enough with his new auric awareness without you advertising that Raith didn’t come alone. Now drink!
Zane looked down at the flask, shuddering at the idea of what he knew was inside it, but scooped it up and began twisting the cap. Ahead of him, Raith had dropped to all fours and had begun a slow, calculated process of circling Maledictus; arching around him and forcing him to turn his back to Zane to keep him in his field of vision.
Smart, Raith, Zane smirked, opening the flask. Even with the blood caked in his broken nose, the smell of Zoey’s enchanted synth-blood made him recoil. The stuff was potent, the contents within the flask alone having the raw, revitalizing impact of a full grown human’s blood supply, but with the added medicinal and rejuvenating effects that only magic could supply. Though Zoey was a powerful fighter, Gregori’s initial interest in her when she’d been brought on to the Vailean Clan was her research in blood. Coupled with her science and the magical abilities of somebody known only as “The Gamer,” who seemed to exist only as an online entity consisting of chemical formulas sent via email and way too many World of Warcraft screen-caps, they’d co-created the vile-yet-miraculous elixir.
Zane sighed, asking himself if being broken and bloody was really so bad.
ZANE MURDOCH!
Zane flinched and nodded, setting the flask down long enough to reset his nose—groaning in agony as he did—before retrieving and gulping down the disgusting substance.
He lurched. His body tried to reject the liquid from its taste alone…
Until his vampire anatomy sensed what it offered.
Then…
Clarity!
Strength!
Vitality!
Zane inhaled sharply, his vision and senses coming in so clear he could count the mosquitoes in the air and feel the trace amounts of blood inside each and every one of them. Sounds came in sharper and clearer, the nerves of his skin went electric with the heat waves surrounding him—each cell of his body telling his vampire mind which directions led to a warm body teeming with blood—and, with his strength returning to him, the urge to destroy Maledictus followed.
He has a broken rib, Zoey offered. Second from the top on his left.
Zane smirked, thinking Serena’s name, knowing that Zoey would be able to “hear” it.
Of course. Zoey answered what they both knew, She’s been making his life a living hell, but she won’t be able to hold out much longer.
Zane frowned at that, mentally bringing up the possibility of Zoey getting Serena’s location from Maledictus’ mind.
You think I wouldn’t have tried that already? Zoey’s voice, even without the benefit of actual sound, made Zane flinch. Pain receptors work differently than memories. Wherever he’s holding Serena, he’s taken the steps to not be read by anybody!
Zane sighed, So much for being a dumb shit…
“Well look who’s up and walking,” Maledictus taunted Zane, “I was wondering when your bitch-ass would—How the hell…?”
Zane smirked as the realization that he was no longer crippled by his injuries dawned upon Maledictus, and the monster turned quickly to look back at Raith, hoping that the therion might have som
e clues as to how such a thing was possible.
Instead, he got a clawed hand ripped across his chest and a giant, wolf-like leg driven into his gut.
As Maledictus was thrown from his feet and launched towards Zane, the revitalized vampire vaulted into the air. Using the airborne monster’ shoulders as a makeshift springboard, Zane flipped over him; drawing his legs in as he cleared the hurdle’s frame and delivered a powerful kick into Maledictus’ blood-gushing chest—centering the attack just below his heart; taking a morbid satisfaction in feeling the already broken rib shifting under his feet.
The added force of the kick sent Maledictus—shrieking in agony—soaring ever upward before he slammed into the siding of one of the massive wood chippers, catching his midsection on the railing as he fell back onto the stairwell beside it.
Zoey shimmered into view then as whatever auric shield she’d been hidden under was lifted and she focused on the platform.
Almost instantly the metal began to squeal.
As the fixture groaned and rumbled, more and more of the supporting beams—spitting nuts and bolts under the auric strain of Zoey’s efforts—buckled and pitched. Finally, succumbing to the compromised support system, the stairway began to collapse. As one-third of the triangle surrounding the mountain of partially-covered woodchips began to come down, the neighboring platforms began to drag downward with the collapse, putting strain on the other two columns.
“Raith! Zane! Little help!” Zoey nodded to one of the other columns.
Neither of them needed an explanation.
Jumping into overdrive—reveling once again in the renewed vitality—Zane cleared the distance in a fraction of a second and began kicking the support beams. Though his vampire strength was enough to warp each of the metal fixtures, it wasn’t until Raith caught up and began climbing the structure—putting all of his sizable bodyweight into the weakened system—that the column began to buckle.
Time to call it a show, boys! Zoey called out to them, This thing’s about to come down on Maledictus, and we don’t want to be around when he digs his way out!
Zane roared and glared back, “ARE YOU FUCKING KIDDING ME? WE FINALLY HAVE A CHANCE TO KILL HIM AND WE’RE NOT GOING TO—”
Raith growled, throwing his body back and forcing the platform to pitch against the strain—the onslaught forcing it to follow after the collapse of the first and, with two-thirds of the entire structure now dragging on the only intact column, beginning to cave the entire network in on itself—before dropping to his feet and yanking Zane off his feet.
“No! NO! LET ME GO, RAITH! LET ME GO!” Zane fought against Raith’s grip, only to have Zoey’s aura bind him as the two of them started back towards the entrance of the lumberyard. “STOP! FUCKING STOP IT! PUT ME DOWN! HE’S STILL GOT HER! THAT SON OF A BITCH STILL HAS SERENA! LET ME GO!”
Behind them, the towering structure crashed down, burying Maledictus in a cage of twisted metal, machinery, and sawdust.
They all knew it wasn’t enough to kill him—hell, it wouldn’t have been enough to kill any one of them with such minimal injuries!—but still they fled. Before Zane could plot his escape from Raith and Zoey’s hold and get back to the monster, he felt the familiar tickle of Zoey’s aura in his head and the world went dark.
ZOEY SMILED, LEANING INTO HER LOVER’S CHEST as they gazed up into the night sky. She was still catching her breath from their run, and with each ragged breath she inwardly cursed her therion lover’s stamina and the pressures it put on her to keep up. Still, it was tough to stay mad at him. She sighed, readjusting herself against Isaac’s chest.
She still felt guilty for having to drag Zane away from the lumber yard and the trapped Maledictus, but she’d known that no good could’ve come from sticking around. Plus, with the new intel that he and Celine had gotten from his informant, she was confident that they’d have another shot at him soon enough.
It had been the right thing to do, but it had still hurt like hell to see Zane hurt like that; the hope and eagerness to get Serena back drifting from his eyes after he’d woken up in the car.
“We haven’t even gotten naked yet and we’re already out of breath,” Isaac chuckled, bringing Zoey back from her thoughts.
“Didn’t think an auric like me would have what it takes to keep up, hm?” Zoey grinned up at him, turning her sky-blue gaze to his forest-green eyes.
The beauty of nature shone between them.
As a therion—a shapeshifter; what some might call a werewolf—Isaac thrived in this element. He was as much a part of nature as the trees growing beside them. She ran her finger across his broad chest as she remembered their first encounter in that same forest. As a member of the clan of Vail—which had been founded in a troubled time between Serena’s parents, a pair of perfect vampires who’d faced a great deal of troubles from Isaac’s kind; a complicated time that had resulted in some complicated clan rules—she was forbidden to have any contact with therions. Though set in bigoted claims, the danger to be had was too great to risk any sort of association. Yet, shortly after Zane had brought Serena back to lead the clan, and stumbling across during a walk Isaac—overhearing him play his violin and being lured to him—everything had changed. He flipped her world completely upside down and she found herself reveling in the feelings Isaac brought out of her.
He was exactly what she needed, and with him by her side she knew that she could find a way around any troubles.
“I love you,” she whispered against his chest, allowing any negativity to leave her body for the time being.
She felt his hand on her chin as he raised her head to face his own; his green eyes were glowing in the moonlight as he smiled down at her.
“And I love you, Zoe,” he leaned in and pressed his lips to hers in a soft kiss.
Zoey felt all of the tender feelings he had for her in that one kiss, and she felt a sudden need for intimacy. Wrapping her arms tightly around his neck, she pulled him down to deepen the kiss. Groaning, he easily sped up the process of undressing them while keeping his lips on hers the entire time. Neither one wanted to part from their kiss, yet neither one could hold back the sudden need to become one.
In a last attempt, Zoey finally allowed her aura to swirl around them, ripping through the remainder of their clothes to feel Isaac’s bare skin against her own. The heat he offered her from his natural body temperature set off the already growing warmth she was feeling and she found herself wrapping her legs tightly around his waist. Isaac, still not breaking the kiss, was able to embed himself in her sweet dampness and let out a loud growl into her mouth as she took him.
It was then, under the beauty of the moon and lying in a bed of grass, the two lovers lost themselves and allowed their concerns to melt away from the moment.
After showering together and changing into some fresh clothes, Zoey and Isaac made their way down the halls, headed for the cafeteria. Noticing Zane sitting alone in the community room—stared far too intensely at the blank television screen—Zoey had nodded Isaac to go ahead without her and see what was bothering him. As she approached, Zoey grimaced as she got a better look at him and noticed that Zane’s injuries had yet to be treated; the multiple wounds and lacerations he’d received still bleeding out as he sat there, staring. She sighed, looking back towards the cafeteria, where Isaac stood, looking back to her.
I need to talk to him about everything that’s going on and make sure that he gets to the infirmary. She sensed Isaac thinking that he could go with her and she shook her head, He’s still a man at heart, hun, he won’t be able to open up to me with you around. I’ll catch up soon, I promise. She offered a reassuring smile to Isaac who, understanding the friendship she had with Zane, nodded and turned towards the cafeteria.
Zane turned to her, scowling, “You think I can’t tell you were just talking about me? Like it’s normal to just stare at people for long, silent periods?” He shook his head, “Let me guess, you’re hoping some one-on-one time is going to make me cry li
ke a baby over all this?”
Zoey glared and took a seat next to him, “Probably wouldn’t hurt to cry. I know I’ve cried a few times over this already, and I’m sure I’m in for a few more, too. Where’s Raith? I thought you two were going to talk.”
Zane scoffed, turning away from her, “My pride’s been hurt enough by everything that’s happened tonight to just let myself start sobbing like a little bitch-boy. As for Raith, I told him what I’ll tell you now: that I’m fine on my own and that I don’t want to talk.”
“Is your pride also the thing that’s stopping you from bandaging your wounds?” Zoey pressed her hand to his arm. “You keep all your tears bottled up inside while you let yourself bleed all over the place, is that it? Do you think that putting up a front like this will make you strong enough to save Serena? What happens when the time comes to kill him once and for all and you’re passed out from blood-loss? Do you really believe that you’re going to be able to defeat Maledictus this way; by letting yourself fall apart at the expense of your emotional constipation?”
Zane raised an eyebrow and turned to face her, “Wait… you want me to take a shit on Maledictus?”
She coughed out, letting out a loud retching sound, “No! Not consti—God! Ew! What the hell’s the matter with you?”
Zane paused, shaking his head and looked away, staring off at the blank TV once more, “Plenty, I’m sure…”
Zoey looked over, “Zane? Please, if you won’t do it for yourself, do it for us—for me and for Serena.”
Zane sighed, his shoulders sagging at that. “It’s just… that fucking bastard! He dragged me through the ringer; he caught me off guard, beat the ever-loving shit out of me, and then dug into the wounds and planted all the right taunts… just like he always has.” He whimpered, leaning forward as he pressed his hand to one of his open wounds. “I mean, I knew he was a sadist with his words…but I’ve never been the one looking up at him while he was dishing it out. It’s even worse than before, ‘cause now I can’t just tell myself that it’s just a voice in my head.”
Scarlet Dusk Page 9
