by Art DeForest
Thomas relaxed his stance a bit and continued to watch his friend. Tango’s short muzzle allowed him rudimentary speech, but Thomas’ longer muzzle and canine tongue rendered him almost unintelligible in anything but his human form, and he wasn’t willing to change just yet. Nodding in acknowledgment, he straightened and took a step toward his companion.
Tango watched him intently as he approached. He noticed the deep red gashes on the lycan’s forearm and hung his head in shame. “Couldn’t stop.” He mumbled as he looked at the ground.
Thomas continued on toward him, transforming to his human form in the span of three steps. He put his hand on Tango’s shoulder. “I know, Tango.” He said, consolingly. “You were controlled by that damned collar.”
Tango reached up to the woven silver strap that surrounded his throat and touched it appraisingly for a moment. “I can think again.” He said in a questioning tone.
Thomas, getting that Tango was wondering how that could be, all of a sudden, motioned to the bent and crumpled remains of the antenna lying on the ground. “Once I broke that antenna.” He said. “The signal controlling you was stopped.”
Tango studied the crumpled bit of metal briefly before trying to hook one of his claws under the collar, preparing to rip the hated device from his neck.
“Don’t,” said Thomas urgently, grasping Tango’s wrist with a restraining hand. “That thing will probably explode if you don’t take it off properly. I don’t want you to end up like Ivan.” He finished, recalling what Sara had told him during their telepathic conversation earlier.
Tango’s claw remained hooked under the collar for a moment longer as if he were considering if it was worth the risk to get rid of the collar. The very thought that he could be controlled again made his forearm tense with the desire to rend it from his neck. His intelligence and trust in Thomas stopped him, however. Reluctantly, he dropped his arm back to his side. “Now what?” He asked.
“Now,” Thomas said, his expression grim. “I need to get down into the facility and free the rest of our friends.
Tango immediately turned and headed toward the narrow ventilation shaft.
“You can’t come with me Tango,” Thomas said as gently as possible.
“I must save the others,” Tango growled out around his large fangs.
“If you get within range of that underground transmitter, you’ll be just another slave that I have to deal with.” Replied Thomas, bluntly.
Tango stared at Thomas for a few seconds. The clawed hand that had just dropped away from the collar around his neck seemed to start creeping back up to it of its own volition.
Thomas reached out with a reassuring hand and stopped the movement. “Look,” he said, softly. “I need you up here, anyway. We could have bad guys showing up at anytime and I need you to handle things if that happens.”
Tango looked at him suspiciously for a moment before reluctantly agreeing to stay above ground. As much as he wanted to save his friends, he knew he’d be no help until he could remove the collar from around his neck.
Seeing the big cat’s acquiescence, Thomas turned to face the ventilation shaft. He could tell, right away that he wasn’t going to fit inside its narrow confines while in battle form. Slipping through the ductwork in human form and nude from his latest transformation, was not going to be fun, but he didn’t have time to go back to the bike for his clothes. Sighing in resignation, he knelt down and pulled the camouflaged grate from the vent’s opening and carefully slid headfirst into the shaft. The close confines of the vent, his greater than human strength and the friction of bare skin against metal allowed Thomas to control his descent down the shaft with relative ease.
Before long, the shaft ended in a T-junction. Feeling around briefly, Thomas’ hand soon found the wire from the antenna and he used it to dictate his course through the ducts and toward the transmitter.
As he crawled and shimmied through the narrow conduit, the creaks and groans of the thin metal started to grow louder and louder. Thomas figured this was the original point of ingress for the Abandonado assassin, but he’d failed to take into account their difference in size before trying to retrace her route.
With a mental shrug, he continued on, inching his way through the dusty metal ductwork. Up ahead he could make out the dim light cast from a room, through a rectangular hole in the side of the metal. Guessing that this was his destination, he picked up speed in anticipation of getting free of the confining space.
In retrospect, this might not have been a good idea. Thomas was about two feet shy of the opening when the duct gave way, shearing off at the nearest joint just in front of Thomas’ hand with a shriek of tearing metal. The end of the section where he lay dropped precipitously for about three feet before coming to an abrupt halt as the support structure of the ductwork behind him tried to hold on.
The jarring stop was all it took to dislodge Thomas from his precarious perch. He slid down the duct like a child on a slide in the park. The smooth surface of the duct gave him no opportunity to stop himself. Before he knew it, he was dropping into the room below. He did manage to get his hands over his head and avoid a concussion as his body impacted the concrete floor below.
He landed with a loud thump and a groan. Dust rained down on him from the damaged structure above, causing him to sneeze. Shaking his head, he tried to regain his wits before opening his eyes to look around.
The first thing he saw was the concrete floor covered with institutional gray, linoleum tiles. As his eyes moved along the hard surface, they locked on a pair of clawed feet. His gaze continued to travel up the well-muscled legs clad in chocolate brown fur to a broad chest before finally taking in the shaggy, angular head and neck of Ryan, his oldest friend, and pack member. Ryan stood in battle form, facing him. Shiny silver collar reflecting the dim light of the room.
Thomas slowly regained his feet, one hand held out in supplication. “Easy, Ryan,” he said in a soothing baritone. “You know I’m here to help.”
A low growl issued from Ryan’s fanged muzzle as Thomas stood up straight. “Come on, dude.” He continued on. “I don’t want to fight you.”
The growling grew louder as Ryan slowly lost the battle for control of his own mind. The brief pause that the internal struggle caused gave Thomas a chance to glance around the room.
Jade hadn’t even tried to hide the transmitter. It sat on top of a desk in one corner of the room. The wire from the antenna was clearly visible, snaking down one white wall to the back of a decent sized box with buttons and led lights on its surface. Two stubby antennas stuck up the back of the box.
The respite was over. Ryan lunged across the room with liquid speed at the same time that Thomas charged toward the transmitter that was spewing its message of domination to all his friends.
Ryan, in battle form, was faster than Thomas wearing his human skin. Thomas was reaching out to grab the hated device when he felt the tremendous impact of a furred shoulder in the small of his back, hurling him forward to collide with the desk and the transmitter that was sitting on it.
Pain lanced through him, and he felt his spine pop. His legs went numb, and he started to slide off the desk as they started to give way. Thomas’ natural healing ability took over, transforming him into his battle form to affect the healing of his spine. It was the main reason that lycans were so sought after in certain circles as mercenaries and soldiers. A simple transformation healed almost any wound and left a capable fighter still alive to carry on the battle.
Thomas felt his legs respond as he flowed into battle form and spun around to face his friend. He wasn’t fast enough to block the blow that came streaking in from the side. Ryan’s open hand made brutal contact with Thomas’ skull and sent him crashing onto the desk and trailing four deep slashes across his face and muzzle.
The lycan Alpha came to a stunning stop against the wall behind the desk. The back of his head hitting it with a hollow Thunk! Shaking his head to clear the spots flashing before his ey
es, he raised his clawed hands defensively, preparing to fight his lifelong friend.
Ryan was staggering backward and shaking his shaggy head. Thomas slid slowly off the desk amid the scattered pieces of what had once been the transmitter. As He watched, Ryan collapsed to his knees and transformed back to his human form.
7
Dust drifted through the cab of the big Suburban as Sara and her captors bounced down the rutted, dirt road. Sara sat in the third-row bench seat at the very back of the vehicle. Her hands and feet were unbound. Jade was supremely confident that Sara would not be able to accomplish anything devious before her finger could press the detonate button on the remote in her hand. Sara was waiting for the right time to prove her wrong.
Jade sat sideways in the seat just in front of Sara’s. Legs stretched out so she could keep an eye on her victim. She was a bit disconcerted that Sara was sitting there so calmly, hands folded in her lap with her eyes closed as if they were taking a pleasant road trip to grandma’s house.
Sara was as calm as she appeared to be. Centuries of life had taught her that getting excited and overreacting seldom accomplished one’s goals. She wasn’t resting, however. Even now, her mind was linked to Kangee’s as her huge, raven familiar circled high above the two SUVs. He was currently showing her mind’s eye a picture of her staff, planted in the ground beside the road. With a little mental urging, she got him to widen out the vision, so that she could see where exactly her staff was positioned.
As the vision shifted to an aerial view of the staff’s position, she saw that it was still in the bottom of the canyon where Tango, Brett, and Ivan had first cornered her. A lump formed in her throat as she thought about the gentle bear creation who’d become her friend.
She quickly regained her composure, however, channeling her grief into the ice cold rage that was centered at her core. Rational thought returned, and she realized that Thomas must have planted the staff there for a reason. With a mental command, she sent Kangee ahead to the canyon so he could give her a real time view of what might be going on.
It only took Kangee a few minutes to reach the spot, well ahead of Sara and her captors. As she had anticipated, the overhead view showed a pickup truck parked sideways on the road, just past a blind corner at the bottom of the canyon. Further inspection from above showed several lycans hidden in the brush on either side of the road.
Schooling her features to show no expression, she opened her eyes and looked around. They had, perhaps, a mile further before starting their descent into the canyon. Her eye’s locked briefly with Jade’s. The enforcer stared back, exuding confidence and menace. Inwardly, Sara smiled.
They got to the edge of the canyon and started their descent. The Suburbans crawled down the steep slope. As they eased around a switchback about halfway down the canyon wall, Sara focused her eyes intently on Jade and began chanting softly under her breath, calling to her blood as it ran in the Asian vampire’s system.
Power seeped into Jade’s mind like a mist, soft but insistent. Sara knew she had to be subtle. One misstep and she would, quite literally, lose her head. Jade’s gaze became fixed as the blood shaman insinuated her power more fully into the assassin’s mind.
Jade shook her head as if she were trying to wake from a doze, her expression bemused. Sara was impressed with her mental toughness. She’d rolled the minds of many vampires over the years. Jade was as tough as any of them had ever been.
The enforcer’s eyebrows drew together in concentration as she tried to decipher what was wrong. Shaking her head once more, her attention was drawn to Sara’s intent stare, and she put two and two together. “Bitch,” she said groggily, starting to raise the remote.
Sara’s eyes widened in alarm as she felt the vampire fight her for control. Millimeter by millimeter, Jade’s thumb crept toward the red button on her remote. Redoubling her efforts, Sara changed the flow of her power from a soft mist to a freight train, in an attempt to overwhelm her opponent.
Jade’s spirit seemed to close in on itself, shrinking to a shiny black ball of onyx at her core. Sara pressed with all her might, but couldn’t overwhelm her completely. Jade’s spirit stopped receding and started trying to push back. Her thumb made another microscopic movement toward the button that spelled Sara’s doom.
“What the fuck?” Shouted the driver, slamming on the brakes as the pickup truck across the road came into view. Only vampire reflexes saved the SUV behind them from crashing into their rear end. As the dust from their passage engulfed the vehicles in a tan colored cloud, six lycans in battle form leapt from concealment and charged toward them.
The driver and passenger of each SUV pushed open their doors and staggered out to meet the attack. Eyes turned crimson, fangs slid into position over bottom lips and fingernails extended into talons as the lycans of the Grand Junction pack collided with their foes.
The decision to sit sideways in the seat and not buckle herself in, came back to bite Jade on the ass as she was thrown against the front seat and then down onto the floorboards. The remote went skittering out of her hand, coming to rest in some unknown corner of the interior.
Thanks to the impressions she’d received earlier from Kangee, Sara was ready for the driver’s action. She converted the forward momentum of the sudden stop into a dive over the seat in front of her, landing hard on top of Jade.
The assassin’s eyes turned crimson, and two-inch fangs dropped from her upper jaw, clicking into place. A loud hiss escaped her as her lower jaw distended and her mouth opened beyond human capability. She snapped viciously at Sara’s throat.
Sara got a forearm across the vampire’s throat and pushed her back down to the floorboard, trying to defend against the attack while simultaneously searching Jade’s hands and the surrounding area for any sign of the remote.
Sara’s divided attention cost her as Jade wedged a knee between them and got her hands on the blood shaman’s shoulders. Full vampire strength that was enough to lift a mid-sized car came to bear, and Sara was hurled across the cab, crashing to a halt against the passenger side door. Her head impacted with the frame at the door’s top hard enough to see stars. Her shoulder contacted the window with enough force to shatter it. Pebbles of tempered glass rained down on the ground outside. As the window collapsed completely, Sara’s body started slipping through the newly created opening toward the rocky ground outside. She got a hand up in time to prevent the fall but didn’t have a chance to pull herself back in before a small, delicate fist that felt like a sledgehammer struck her in the chest, sending her flying the rest of the way out of the vehicle.
Air whooshed out of her lungs as her back impacted on the jagged rocks and bushes that lined the road. She was thankful that she didn’t have to breath to keep moving. Nevertheless, pain lanced through her as she rolled back to a standing position, telling her that she had, at least, one broken rib as a result of the dual impacts of fist and ground.
Snapshots of the battle between Thomas’ lycans and the vampire guards impressed on Sara’s mind as she charged back toward the Suburban. The quick glance showed that the lycans superior numbers were giving them the upper hand.
Dismissing the pain in her ribs, Sara charged back to the Suburban. Looking through the shattered window, she saw Jade, on hands and knees, scrambling under the seats trying to find the remote. Throwing the door open, Sara grabbed a handful of lustrous black hair and jerked the petite form out of the vehicle. Her own strength had Jade’s body flying fifteen feet through the air before she hit the ground and rolled back to her feet with catlike grace.
“This is better.” Said Jade around her fangs as she took up a combat stance. “I’d rather kill you with my bare hands, anyway.” She finished, holding up hands whose nails had grown into razor sharp claws.
Sara smiled, her features going feral as she took up her own stance. “Bring it, bitch.” She said in reply.
Jade’s form blurred as she crossed the intervening space. Sara’s eyes widened in surprise at j
ust how fast her opponent was. The eye movement was all she had time for as Jade appeared before her, launching a flurry of punches and kicks that had the blood shaman staggering to defend herself.
She managed to block the first two sweeping attacks from Jade’s hands, but the movement left her open for a knee strike that sent her crashing to her back inside the open door of the Suburban.
Being on her back between the two rows of seats was both a blessing and a curse for Sara. It meant that Jade’s follow-up attack could only come at her from the front. The sweeping claw attacks that she’d first used would be caught by the frame of the vehicle. That same impediment to Jade, however, also inhibited Sara’s own swirling attack style.
Jade lunged, clawed fingers outstretched to gouge out Sara’s eyes. Sara got a knee up in time to prevent the strike, but as she pushed her away, the vampire’s claws cut bloody swathes down Sara’s chest and abdomen as they tried to find purchase to keep Jade within striking distance.
